#like...i'm working part time because i'm hoping to get actual work in my field

[eccentriccryptid]

.

[buckets-and-trees]

I’d like to point out this man’s insane hotness🥵

Also… imagine needing a place to sit and Bucky tells you to sit on his lap😍

I've been sitting on this one for ages, Shannon, I'm sorry! But I was waiting for a storyline that truly swept me away because this look and the potential for this moment couldn't be squandered if I was going to take a stab at it...

Poison Blood from the Wound of the Pricked Hand

Characters/Pairings: Post TFATWS!Bucky x curvy!Millennial Female!Reader Word Count: 3k Summary: You've made a life-altering decision, and even though it feels like the only choice you could have made, you hope it's the right one, and you hope the man you're being forced to rely on tonight will help you accomplish what you need to, or else your life could be at stake - not to mention the safety of so many others.

Content/Warnings: intense physical intimicy, but no actual smut (I know, shocker)

Author Notes: Possibly the last piece for the Deliciously Debauched Labor Day Weekend! And, yes late, but the final piece to complete out my collection for @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer - week twelve "what should I wear?"

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

“How are things going in there?” Bucky called loudly to you.

“Um…” There was a long pause, before you called back, “Fine.”

You glanced at the clock.

You knew at this rate you were going to make the two of you late. But that only ate at you more. You weren’t trying to cause problems.

Or, rather, you weren’t trying to cause more problems. You already felt like a walking liability.

All you had tried to do was get out of the danger of your brother’s organization.

You had finally gone to the authorities, looking to make some kind of deal for safety, maybe witness protection, you didn’t know exactly how these things worked, only that you had to leave.

But evidently things had been even worse and more complicated than you knew, and the price for safety had come with strings.

They needed more information, and they saw you as a means to be able to get it.

And so they’d dangled a deal that required you to play your part as a trusted member of the family one more time.

You had only been gone for just over twenty-four hours, so it wasn’t likely that your brother would suspect your defection yet. But it was so recent that you still felt unsettled over whether you’d made the right decision - especially now that it wasn’t a clean break and you were being used be the people you expected to be the good guys.

“Are you sure?” Bucky’s voice broke through your thoughts again.

You shook your head. Since he was in the other room, there was no danger in him seeing your doubt and uncertainty.

Of all the moving parts in this scheme, Bucky was possibly the only piece you thought you might be able to trust. His reputation preceded him as someone more than capable of handling any dangerous situation, but he also seemed to harbor a question in his mind over working this operation and trusting the government agencies who had a hand in this.

You sighed, then bit your lip. The clock ticked relentlessly, each second a reminder of your indecision. Your eyes darted between two outfits laid out on the bed, both chosen with care but now seeming woefully inadequate for the task ahead.

You sighed, your eyes darting between the two outfits laid out on the bed. One was a sleek black dress, form-fitting and elegant, with a high neckline and long sleeves that would conceal the nervous goosebumps prickling your skin. The other, a tailored pantsuit in deep navy, exuded an air of professionalism and confidence you wished you felt.

Both outfits were carefully chosen to blend in at the high-stakes charity gala where you'd be making your reappearance in your brother's world. But which one would better sell the lie? Which one would make you look like you hadn't just betrayed everything you'd ever known?

You ran your fingers over the cool silk of the dress, then the crisp wool of the suit jacket. The clock's incessant ticking seemed to grow louder with each passing moment, mocking your indecision.

You needed to look like your old self, the trusted sister, and you’d worn clothes just like these a hundred times before. But now?

And with the added caveat of needing to have a brand new man on your arm and sell that he was a valid new part of your life, too?

You grabbed both hangers and went out into the living room of your apartment where Bucky had been patiently waiting for you.

Bucky's eyes widened slightly as you emerged from the bedroom, clothes in hand. He was sitting on the couch, hands in his lap, already dressed in a sharp looking suit with leather lapels - edgy but impressive. For a moment, you were struck by how different he looked from the dangerous operative turned superhero you knew him to be. He looked like he could effortlessly blend into the opulent setting you expected tonight.

"I can't decide," you admitted, your voice hesitant. "Which one do you think would be more… convincing?"

Bucky's gaze flickered between the two outfits, then back to your face. His expression softened, and you saw a glimmer of understanding in his eyes.

"The dress," he said after a moment. "It's more in line with what you'd typically wear to these events, right? We don't want to raise any suspicions by changing your style too drastically."

You nodded, grateful for his insight. "You're right. Thank you."

As you turned to go back to the bedroom, Bucky's voice stopped you. "Hey," he said softly, his blue eyes searching your face. "We don't have to do this if you're not ready."

For a moment, you were tempted to take the out he was offering. To tell him you couldn't go through with it, that you'd made a mistake. But then you thought of your brother, of all the people he'd hurt, and you steeled yourself.

"No, I can do this. Besides,” you thought of all the things you’d learned in different meetings and conversations and reports today, “this is our best chance to get the information we need to bring him and the rest of the organization down.”

“But it doesn’t have to be you,” he insisted.

You tilted your head and smiled sadly. “But it should be.” They had been planning to try and infiltrate tonight’s gala before you had presented yourself, but with you, you were practically a golden ticket into the event and into so many more of the areas once inside.

Bucky nodded, a mix of admiration and concern in his eyes. "Alright. But remember, I'll be right there with you the whole time. If anything feels off, just give me the signal and we're out of there."

You nodded, grateful for his reassurance. As you headed back to the bedroom to change, you couldn't help but wonder how convincing you and Bucky would be as a couple. You'd only known each other for a day, and while he seemed kind and protective, there was still so much mystery surrounding him.

As you undressed, you tried to calm your racing thoughts. You'd been to countless events like this before, schmoozing with the elite and corrupt. But never as a double agent, never with the weight of so many lives hanging in the balance, and certainly not since discovering the secret that had shattered your world and opened up your eyes to the fact that everything your brother was involved in was corrupt and dangerous.

As you slipped into the black dress, you couldn't help but feel like you were putting on armor for battle. The silk clung to your skin, cool and familiar, yet somehow foreign now. You zipped it up, fingered the neckline, then pressed your hand to your heart and took a deep breath.

In the mirror, you saw the woman you used to be—poised, elegant, the perfect sister to a powerful man. But your eyes betrayed you, filled with a storm of emotions you'd have to learn to hide in the next few minutes.

You applied your makeup with practiced precision, each stroke of mascara and swipe of lipstick another layer of protection, of disguise. Once satisfied with your appearance, you squared your shoulders, and put the lipstick in your clutch.

You emerged from the bedroom, smoothing down the fabric of your dress. “I’m ready.”

Bucky’s eyes roamed over you appreciatively, and you felt something pool in your stomach - the attraction to this man you’d been trying to ignore since you’d been introduced to him early this morning. You could not have a crush on this man who was supposed to infiltrate your brother’s organization with you, steal information, and try and get both of you out safely.

It would be too much of a distraction.

Bucky's lips quirked into a small smile.

“What?” you asked, suspicious.

“You forgot your shoes,” he said simply.

You looked down and sighed.

“Nervous?” he asked, his tone kind, soft.

"Bucky," you said, looking back at him, "how are we supposed to explain your presence? Won't my brother be suspicious of a new man in my life?"

"We've got a cover story. I'm a potential new investor in your brother's 'business ventures.' You met me at a networking event last week and thought I'd be a good fit for tonight's gala."

You raised an eyebrow. "And you just happened to sweep me off my feet?”

"Something like that," Bucky replied with a roguish smile. "We'll keep it vague - a whirlwind romance, sparks flying. Your brother will be more focused on the potential investment than on our relationship."

You nodded, trying to quell the butterflies in your stomach. It wasn't just nerves about the mission now; the idea of pretending to be swept off your feet by Bucky wasn't entirely unpleasant.

"Right," you said, forcing yourself to focus. "I'll just go grab those shoes."

You hurried back to the bedroom, slipping on a pair of elegant black heels. As you turned to leave, your eyes fell on a framed photo on the nightstand - you and your brother at last year's gala, both smiling widely. Your stomach churned. How had you been so blind?

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the guilt down and away. You needed to do this. There was no other path in your mind now that you knew the truth. Your eyes flicked from the frame to the luggage packed next to your door. When you’d left yesterday, you hadn’t taken anything with you, not wanting to draw suspicion. With this return to your place and the cover of being swept into something with Bucky, it gave you the cover to pack some of your things - luggage that was being picked up and taken care of for you by one of this “rich investor’s” staff to go with you on a two-week vacation to a private island in the Phillippines. It was a perfect cover, provided you could sell it.

He was so handsome, with his dark hair styled perfectly and his strong jawline. Still sitting on the couch, he radiated confidence and charm, making it easy to see why he was chosen for this mission. You couldn't help but feel slightly nervous under his intense gaze.

Bucky's eyes flicked over your ensemble. "You look beautiful," he said, his voice low and husky.

Your heart skipped a beat at the compliment, feeling self-conscious under his scrutiny. "Thank you," you replied shyly.

You’d been so worried about all the other logistics of tonight, you hadn’t thought about the believability of you and Bucky until now.

“Come here,” he said, holding a hand out to you. You crossed the room and took it, gasping as he pulled you down to sit across his lap.

“Bucky,” you protested, insecure about sitting all of your plus-sized body in his lap. You had never been comfortable with your few previous partners in this situation, but he pressed one cool vibranium finger to your lips, while his other hand moved softly up and down your back.

“Don’t be nervous,” he whispered. “You’ll need to look comfortable around me when I touch you, and if your brother is going to believe you’ve agreed to go away with me tonight, I can’t touch you for the first time while we’re there.”

You nodded. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, and you shivered.

You felt a flush creep up your neck as Bucky's lips brushed your cheek. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, but you could feel the strength in his arms as he held you. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself further. He seemed unconcerned, even happy to hold all of you, and the contrast between his warm flesh hand and the cool metal of his other arm sent tingles down your spine.

"Is this okay?" he murmured against your skin, his breath hot on your neck.

You nodded, not trusting your voice. Your heart was racing, and you weren't sure if it was from nerves about the mission or the proximity of this dangerously attractive man.

Bucky's hand traced lazy circles on your back, and you found yourself relaxing into his touch despite your better judgment. "We need to look natural together," he explained softly. "Like we can't keep our hands off each other. It'll sell the whirlwind romance angle."

You swallowed hard, trying keep it together.

Bucky's hand continued its soothing motion up and down your back, and you found yourself leaning into his touch despite your better judgment.

"Tell me more about your brother," Bucky said softly. "What should I expect?"

You tensed slightly at the mention of your brother, but Bucky's steady presence kept you grounded. "He's… charming," you began, choosing your words carefully. "Charismatic. He can make anyone feel like the most important person in the room. But there's always an agenda behind it."

Bucky nodded, his fingers still tracing patterns on your back. "And how does he usually react to you bringing someone new around?"

You sighed, leaning your head against Bucky's shoulder. "He's protective. Suspicious. I haven’t brought many men around. He'll probably try to get you alone, size you up."

"I can handle that," Bucky assured you, his voice low and confident.

You lifted your head to look at him, suddenly struck by how close your faces were. His blue eyes were intense, searching yours. "Bucky," you whispered, "what if I can't pull this off?"

His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing softly across your skin. "We will," he said firmly. It didn’t escape your notice that he’d said we, not allowing you to feel alone. "You're stronger than you think, and I've got your back.”

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. "Underneath that charm, he's calculating. Always looking for an angle, a way to use people. And he's dangerous when he feels threatened."

Before, you hadn’t questioned his cold side, thought it to usually be warranted, protective of you and the family and his organization. But now you knew better, illusion shattered.

Bucky nodded, his expression grave. "I'll be on high alert," he assured you. "We'll have to make sure he sees me as an asset, not a threat. But remember, we're not there to confront him tonight. Just to gather information."

"Right," you said, trying to calm your racing heart. "Just information."

Bucky's hand resumed landed on your thigh, and he squeezed reassuringly. You put your hand over his.

"Good," he murmured, eyes dropping down to your coupled hands. "That's the kind of reaction we need."

You nodded, trying to focus on the mission, on the act you needed to sell. But it was becoming increasingly difficult with Bucky's strong arm around you, his warm breath on your neck.

"We should practice," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "What if... what if we need to kiss?"

Bucky's eyes met yours, a mix of surprise and something darker, more intense. "Are you sure?"

You nodded, your heart racing. "We need to be convincing, right?"

Without another word, Bucky's hand slid to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer. His lips met yours, soft at first, then with growing intensity. You melted into the kiss, your hands instinctively moving to his chest. The stubble on his jaw scratched lightly against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

For a moment, you forgot about the mission, about your brother, about everything except the feel of Bucky's lips on yours. It felt electric, a spark of something real amidst all the deception you were about to undertake. His metal arm tightened around your waist, and you gasped softly into his mouth.

When you finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Bucky's eyes were dark with desire. "That was..." he started, then cleared his throat. "That should be convincing enough.”

You nodded, unable to form words. The kiss had felt all too real, and you were struggling to remind yourself that this was just part of the act. You couldn't afford to develop real feelings for Bucky, not with everything at stake.

"We should go," you managed to say, glancing at the clock. "We don't want to be late."

Bucky nodded, but neither of you moved.

Then you leaned in and kissed him again. He returned your kiss, metal arm pulling you even closer. Your hands tangled into his hair, and you shifted in his lap so you could press your chest flush against his.

"We really should go," you murmured against Bucky's lips when you had to break off for another breath, but made no move to pull away.

He hummed in agreement, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. You melted into him, all thoughts of the mission momentarily forgotten. There was only the warmth of his body, the softness of his lips, the gentle scrape of his stubble against your skin.

Your hands roamed over his broad shoulders, feeling the strength coiled beneath his suit jacket. Bucky's flesh hand slid from your hair down your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps. You gasped softly at the contact, and he took the opportunity to trace your lower lip with his tongue. Heat pooled in your stomach as you parted your lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss further.

His vibrainum hand continued its exploration down your body, while his warm, flesh hand stayed at the small of your back, anchoring you. You lost yourself in the sensation, forgetting for a moment about the dangerous mission ahead. Bucky's kisses were intoxicating, making you dizzy with desire. His metal hand traced the curve of your hip, sending shivers through your body.

Suddenly, the sharp ring of a phone cut through the haze of passion. You jerked away from Bucky, reality crashing back. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a sleek black device.

"It's time," he said, his voice husky. "The car's waiting downstairs."

You nodded, trying to catch your breath and calm your racing heart. As you stood up from his lap, you smoothed down your dress, acutely aware of how close you'd come to losing control.

Bucky rose as well, adjusting his tie and running a hand through his slightly mussed hair. His eyes met yours, filled with…

Filled with what, you weren’t sure.

If you made it out tonight, maybe you might have a chance to find out.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Read more stories from the Deliciously Debauched Labor Day Weekend!

👀

What do we think? Do we want to see more of them?

I think this could be a post-TFATWS and pre-Thunderbolts kind of thing maybe. idk.

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[boyfhee]

ㅤ ꣑୧ㅤㅤ:ㅤCANDLELITㅤㅤ𝒻t.ㅤㅤ성혼

﹙10097﹚ SYNOPSIS . . . the dating scene sucks, especially when the only person you want to be with is your roommate.

꣑୧ GENRE . . . roommate au, 'i hate them but they're hot' kind of energy

꣑୧ WARNINGS . . . profanities, drinking i mean lots of drinking we need alcohol shortage here, sunghoon smokes, mentions of one night stands, one very suggestive make out scene in the fourth section, undertones of cheating but not from sunghoon or reader, implications of sex although it's very light

꣑୧ NOTES . . . hi ( _ _; ) drowning in nervousness as i'm posting this. it's my first long fic after months ... i think the last one was in may or june 23 ... so please be nice >< don't know why but this didn't turn out how i wanted it to and it's definitely not one of my proudest works, but i hope u guys like it nonetheless huhu TT happy reading and please rb and drop feedback, it's highly appreciated ^_^

001. WHERE THERE’S HEAVEN THERE’S HELL

sunghoon is spiralling again. 

a part of it is because of the endless assignments from classes, but that’s no news. he knows it’s his fault for procrastinating and waiting till two days before the due date to even think about working on them— unlike jake who somehow attends classes probably four times a week and is seen in the football fields instead, and still manages to be the first one to submit his essays. it’s admirable, annoying at most. when he sat down to do his sports science project three days before it was due, sunghoon realised why his professor gave them two months to finish it. 

but realising your mistakes and working on them to be a better version of yourself are two different things.

for one, sunghoon believes those assignments are useless. no one cares about the impact of sports on society, maybe except heeseung and jake but again, in sunghoon’s mind, those two are never important. second, he’s too perfect to be working on himself. sunghoon is the best version of himself. he was born the day his uncle died, and his dad inherited the entire chain of restaurants his family owns across the country. he’s too amazing to be worrying about getting a degree he can buy— he thinks the university should be honoured he’s choosing to study— but that’s simply because his mother doesn’t want him to turn out like his sister. 

back to the matter at hand— as he puts the beer can on the table and sits back on the couch, his eyes travel to the door yet again. seventh time in just a minute, he’s keeping a record of how you make him wait. 

if there’s one thing he hates is being irresponsible ( coming from the great king of irresponsibility himself. ) you said you’d be back by twelve, and it’s half past one in night and not a soul knows your whereabouts. thirteen texts, seven missed calls, his phone is at forty-one percent and sunghoon is at his limit. if it wasn’t for your mom he wouldn’t give two flying fucks about where you are and how you’ve been.

sunghoon is actually surprisingly obedient and well-mannered, as opposed to the popular belief. he gave you and your mother the whole tour of the apartment the day you moved in. even made some coffee which isn’t much but your mother had loved him. he could see it in the way she looked at him with those sweet eyes, holding his hands as if he was her own son, and asking him to look after you. 

‘please take care of my daughter,’ sunghoon thought he was getting married. instead of a wedding bell there were warning sirens going off. to this day he doesn’t know why she asked him that, minutes after she saw a dead cactus in the balcony that he killed by overwatering. he couldn’t even say no to her and just nodded, looking over at you briefly and noticing how you look like you were a bit embarrassed. sunghoon doesn’t know why he’s so serious about ‘taking care’ of you. he thought it would be easy, but you had to be devil’s favourite spawn and sunghoon happens to be your target.

however, he can’t take this anymore. he has a morning class and waiting till two am while drinking beer has done more damage to sunghoon than it should. he gets up from the couch with a sigh, leaving the empty cans unattended for a night as he makes a mental note to clean tomorrow. it isn’t until a click from the door stops him in his tracks. 

“i’m back,” your voice is quiet, a yawn following immediately after your words as you look down while taking off your shoes. you’ve been drinking again, sunghoon can tell it from a mile away. 

“you’re late,” he speaks over the silence, hands on his torso as he’s giving you those squinted eyes and doubtful looks. if sunghoon didn’t know any better, he would assume you fucked someone at the club with how messy you look at the moment.

“yeah well, we had to take gigi to the hospital,” your lazy voice isn’t much louder than a whisper. you stumble towards your room, a hiccup followed soon after by the same quiet and slurred tone. “she ate something weird,”

he huffs at your words, knowing it would very well be just another excuse. “you could’ve at least texted,”

“my phone died,”

“i’m sure your friends would be happy to lend you their phone,” he pauses when he feels himself getting a bit annoyed. a soft sigh falls off his lips as he looks down at the tiled floor before looking up and speaking in a much calmer voice. “i’m just saying it’s not exactly safe to be out alone on the streets this late at night,”

“i wasn’t alone,” that piques his interest. “jay drove me back,”

and sunghoon felt his whole world stop. “jay?”

“yeah, jay, park jongseong,” your voice is surprisingly sweet when you take his name and it bothers sunghoon for some reason. his face scrunches up when you bite back a smile, hoping it’s the alcohol not because of what he thinks it is. “he’s nicer than i thought,”

sunghoon is not unfamiliar with the name park jongseong.

he hears it every day on and off the campus, more often than he likes. first things first, he’s just as popular as jake, for being american, which brings sunghoon to the question— why in the world would he leave america to study in korea when jay could have attended one of the ivy leagues with his face and money?

and the second and more important question, why in the world is park jongseong dropping you home at two in the night?

sunghoon only watches you in disbelief and astonishment as you stumble to your room, mumbling something incoherently. your words ring in his ear like sirens. ‘he is better than you’ jay is better than sunghoon. he scoffs almost offensively in your direction. that has to be the biggest lie of the twenty-first century.

he follows you to your room, reaching out to grab your arms when you almost trip but you manage to balance yourself. he opens the door and turns on the lights for you. “why were you with him to begin with?”

“oh, you don’t know?” and you turn around with eyes wide open as he shakes his head like a deer in the headlight. “he asked me out,” 

sunghoon didn’t get a single ounce of sleep last night. 

it’s your fault, clearly. had you been back earlier on the time, nothing would’ve happened. and jay— sunghoon sights at the thought of him, eyes narrowing as he grits on his pen as if he’s going to break it into two. 

“dude, are you hungry?” jake pokes sunghoon by his shoulder, dragging the latter out of his trail of thoughts. 

“what?” sunghoon shoots a blank look, one that makes his friend sigh in concern. afterall, it’s not everyday he sees sunghoon chewing on a pen. “i’m not,”

“you’ve been out of it since the morning,”

and sunghoon has been out of it since jay’s name fell from your lips. 

he’s not your friend, definitely not the first guy you’ve called by his name after sunghoon. but something doesn’t sit right. even after tossing and turning in bed for the whole night, he can’t figure out what bothers him more— the fact you said jay is better than him, or the fact that he asked you out on a date.

it’s the first one, he convinces himself. who you date is none of his business, he can’t be arsed enough to care about your love life or relationship status. ( although, he does care a little because he’s nosy. ) what bothers him more is that jay is, to put it in simple words, a player. all that face and no empathy for emotions is a waste, and to think you don’t know this— or maybe you do and yet still chose to go out with him, is beyond sunghoon’s comprehension. 

“what do you think about jay?” he asks abruptly, catching jake’s attention, looking at him a little too intently for an answer. 

“he’s a nice guy,” a casual reply before he gets back to his assignment before jake looks back at sunghoon with newly found interest. “he turned in my spanish essay last week, oh and drove me back from the bar a few days ago after you ditched me. why?”

sunghoon simply shakes his head, getting back to his books even though his focus is nowhere near studies. at this point, he doesn’t know if it’s jay distracting him or you. even your words keep playing over and over again in the back of his head. jay and nice in the same sentence doesn’t seem fit. sure, he helps his friends and drops his girl back home, but that’s only three days before there’s a new girl in his arms. 

002. RUNNING OUT OF SANITY

sunghoon doesn’t hear the door click open when you come back from your classes, too busy in the balcony while humming a tune that you recognise immediately. you take off your shoes, noticing how he taps his foot along with the melody, and it’s quiet in the apartment, apart from the sound of traffic and wind rustling through the trees around.

“i don’t like people who smoke,” smoking is not on your list of likes, but you find yourself next to sunghoon whenever he’s with a cigarette. just like now, when you return from yet another one of your dates— or meet-ups as you prefer to call it right now— with jay. it wasn’t really planned. you bumped into him after classes and he was on his way back home, so you asked him for a coffee. 

he almost jumps at your sudden voice but manages to compose himself, scowing at the distaste in your expression before scoffing, the cigarette still dancing between his lips. “good think, i’m not looking forward to be liked by you,”

he studies the frown on your face, glares as if your eyes are shooting daggers in his direction. it’s amusing to him how easy it is to get on your nerves. he leans against the metal railings, hair falling over his forehead. his eyes stay on your for a few seconds before he holds the cigarette between his index and middle finger, putting it away from his mouth and blowing out the smoke in your directions. he laughs mockingly when you step back, fanning out the smoke with your hands, cursing under your breath.

“are you crazy?!” you exclaim in annoyance, coughing slightly at his poor attempt at entertainment. your frown deepens when he mumbles a quiet apology although not meaning it, from the looks of it, and lifts the cigarette back to his lips. 

“you’re back early,” he states casually, tapping the cigarette butt and watching the ash fall down from the balcony before a taunting chortle falls off his lips. “did jay dump your ass or something?”

your nose scrunches up at his actions, although mostly at the tobacco you can still smell in your air. you look down at the road, watching a mercedes passing by. “no, he had to go somewhere so he left early,”

“i knew it! he’s good for nothing,” and he drops the cigarette to the floor, crushing it with his foot even though at the back of his mind, he knows you’re going to yell at him for cleaning that up. “what kind of guy can’t even spend time with his girlfriend?”

“we’re not dating,”

“that’s worse!” he emphasises, and a pause follows as he looks at you with a confused expression. “wait— didn’t you say he asked you out?”

“he did, but he said he wants to wait until exams are over,” there’s a hint of displeasure in your voice. his eyes travel down to your fingers, especially the ring you’re fiddling with before they’re back on your face when you speak again. “we just decided to hang out,”

he practically scoffs at your words, quite literally in disbelief. a knowing sigh comes out of his mouth as he stands straight, this time standing with his back against the railing, feeling the cold metal though his thin white t-shirt. a part of him wants to laugh at your stupidity and point at how naive you are, while another part of him wants to find jay and beat him to pulp. he doesn’t know why there’s anger pooling in his stomach at the mere thought of jay just messing around with you. 

“what a sick bastard,” he huffs with a tincture of annoyance in his tone. “how much do you want to bet he’s playing with you?”

“you’re the one who’s sick,” and even though it clicks with him that you’re referring to a few minutes earlier when he smoked all in your face, sunghoon still frowns when you call him sick. “he’s just prioritising his studies, there’s nothing wrong with that. at least he doesn’t smoke while being all up my face,”

you two just bask in silence after that.

he doesn’t have much to say— actually he does, but he doesn’t know how to put it in a decent, coherent way. of course, your reaction won’t be the most pleasant if he told you he wants to punch jay’s good for nothing handsome face. he wonders what you’re thinking when he looks over at you. you seem happy whenever you talk about your supposed ‘future boyfriend,’ yet it’s evident that you’re upset. he likes to think you’re having your doubts too. it's reassuring to him for some reason— because that’s good for you, of course. if you’re upset, you have your doubts, and if you have your doubts you might not fall victim to whatever sick game jay is playing. 

“oh, actually, he doesn’t smoke,” but then you speak in a matter-of-fact way, as if comparing him to jay before giving him a mocking smile. “he’s better than you,”

those words ring in his mind for a good while. 

you go back inside and he hears you shut the door to your room as an annoyed sigh falls off his lips. hearing that jay is nice from jake was another thing, but hearing to say he’s better than him leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. and he doesn’t know why he���s feeling this way, these little changes in how he usually is, it’s new. it’s frustrating him out. 

it isn’t until his phone vibrates that he’s dragged out of his ocean of thoughts. his brows furrow when he notices the time, having realised that he basically wasted the entire noon even though he didn’t attend classes after giving heeseung an excuse that he’s sick. his eyes squint at the sender, and then a groan escaping his lips when he opens to read it. 

noh chaeun  4:15pm hoon! my last two classes have been cancelled are you up for some coffee?

sunghoon doesn’t reply, rather leaving his classmate’s messages on seen, too bothered by his inner turmoil to spend time with her. it’s not like him to be this way, to be so bothered over something that doesn’t concern him. you’re definitely not someone so significant and jay is definitely not the first guy you’re with. in fact, he has seen you kiss that guy from one of your classes— as much as he hates to recall that incident now— and had sneaked up to tell your mother about it over the phone when she had called you.

you’ve never had a serious relationship, not after meeting him. in his head, you always came back to him and he’d be lying if he hadn’t joked about it with his friends during the initial few weeks after you had moved in. when he had mentioned to jake that you’re pretty and his friend had teased him a few days later, saying his ‘crush’ was with this other guy, sunghoon, did in fact, say he doesn’t care because you always come back to him; or rather his apartment, actually, but whatever fits the joke. 

that day, he had a good laugh out of it and the joke died back then itself, more so after he started complaining about you to his friends. your habits, your actions, the things you say that tick him off, your quirky and quick remarks— everything. perhaps, even about your habit of arriving late on weekends from parties and ruining his sleep because you forget the key most of the time, so he has to wake up and open the door for you, but not guys, never guys. 

it hurts his head to even try and figure it out, to find the reasoning behind the pang in his chest every time you mention jay. he likes to think it’s just harmless competition although for no reason, even though both of them have done plenty of things to piss each other off just for the fun of it. sunghoon thinks he can live with it and walks back inside to the living room, until he sees you walking out of your room on phone with someone, the name of he who shall be mentioned rolling off your tongue again, and he finally pulls out his phone with a frustrated sigh. 

sunghoon  4:21pm sure, i’ll pick you up in ten

“actually, my mom wants to invite your family over for dinner this weekend,” the girl in front of him speaks with a smile after muttering a quiet thank you to the waiter after he gets their order. “she’s very grateful  for the donation your dad made for our art gallery and wants to thank properly,”

“talk to my parents, then,” it’s a simple reply, too bland and forced for her liking.

sunghoon hasn’t spared her a single look in the past ten minutes that they’ve been sitting together at the table. firstly, he doesn’t know why he drove to a restaurant when she asked for a coffee. it’s not even close to dinner time, and the awkward yet sweet smile on her face didn’t make it better for him, so he ordered starters and drinks to drag their little impromptu dinner out. 

“sunghoon, to be honest,” chaeun tries to strike up a conversation again, despite the constant lack of effort from his side. “i want you—”

“hey, isn’t that jongseong?” and he cuts her off immediately, finger pointing outside the glass panes beside them as he stares in the direction behind her with brows knit together in shock. “who’s that with her?”

“jongseong?” she repeats the name before turning her head, forming an ‘o’ when she spots a familiar figure through the multitude on the streets. “ah, that’s myung jihye. she has been pursuing him for a while. i guess he finally agreed,”

“they’re dating?!” his voice is full of surprise and disbelief unlike hers, so seemed to be happy for the girl instead. he stares outside with a heavy silence as the couple disappears between the crowd before looking at the girl in front of him.

“oh, i wouldn’t say that…i don’t know but it’s possible they are.” it doesn’t miss her attention how sunghoon’s fingers tighten around the fork. “everybody in our major knows jihye has crush on him and they’re probably a thing by now,”

and he wishes you were here with him right now so that he could show you the true colours of the dear guy you’ve been going out with, the one who’s supposedly ‘better’ than him. he wants you to realise that his words weren’t false and he isn’t sick, after all, and if you’d cry, he would be down to tell you it’s not the end of the world. that there are a hundred other guys better than jay, ones who won’t even breathe in front of another woman, who’d treat you better— hell, i can treat you better if you ever give me a chance— and then a pause in his train of thoughts.

he looks at chaeun, who’s looking back at him with a perplexed look and her own set of questions. his mind replays those words yet again, and he screams internally.

what the heck?!

surprisingly enough, sunghoon has been thinking about jay for the whole evening now, obviously not in a good way. his eyes keep travelling to the knife stand on the kitchen island occasionally and every single time, he has to convince himself that murder is not the right answer to anything. 

for some reason, he can’t stop imagining your smiles while on date with jay. not that he has ever seen those— wish i could— as he slaps himself out of his state of mind yet again. not only that man is playing with you but on jihye who’s apparently his girlfriend? he lets out the ugliest scoff known to mankind, because in sunghoon’s head, jay is a sick joke made by biology.

he waits for you to return from your shopping spree for about an hour, having beer as a company. he tries to stay awake although his eyes get droopy, and then every ounce of sleep leaves his body when he hears the door unlock. 

“yn,” he practically jumps out of the couch, it almost scares you. he accidentally bumps into the living room table on the way, knocking an empty can of beer to the floor but too busy to bother picking it up. “i have to tell—” his eyes go down to the eleven shopping bags in your hands, as he counts them. “— wait, what did you shop so much for?” 

“oh, i have to attend a family wedding next month,” his chest feels warm when he sees you smiling and looking so excited, and it’s making him go crazy on the inside because he doesn’t know what is happening to him. for some reason, he starts imagining you in a gown, like the one you wore for the fresher’s party, but then he forces his mind to get back to the point. “i’m thinking of asking jay to be my date,”

and his heart drops down to his stomach.

this has to be a fucking joke, and he tells himself. for a split second, he thinks he didn’t hear you properly. maybe you said jake because, well, jake did tweet a ‘date for rent’ form five months ago when he needed money to buy tickets for a post malone concert that cost more than his gentle monster glasses ( not that he got any money but at least they got a good laugh out of it. ) 

you remove your shoes and put the shopping bags on the couch before sitting down as well, letting out a heavy sigh. “you look like you saw a ghost,”

“a ghost would’ve been better,” he catches you looking at him when he mumbles under his breath, sort of grateful you didn’t hear him before sunghoon would rather not have another argument with you over how jay is not only a bad choice, he’s the worst choice. 

he looks over at you when you pull out your phone, fingers fluttering over the screen as you text someone with a giddy smile. he considers telling you what he had seen earlier, but god, he loved to see you smile like that. the way you press your lips together to suppress a grin, looking ever so happy as if you have won a lottery. he doesn’t think you’ve ever smiled like that at him, and it aggravates him even more when he realises that you probably smile like that every time you see jay. 

jay is getting everything he isn’t deserving of, and it pisses sunghoon off down to his bones. 

but again, he can’t bring himself to tell you the truth. you look too happy for your own good, it pains him physically to even imagine your reaction when you’ll come to know the truth. and then he pulls himself together, telling himself that it is your fault in the first place to trust someone like jay and ignore the warning signs he was giving you. 

in the end, he leaves without having any further conversations with you, going to bed two hours earlier than usual even though he knows he isn’t going to get any sleep. sunghoon is convinced he’s losing his mind, faster than a day ago actually. he lets out a frustrated groan and covers himself with his blanket, hoping to catch some sleep. 

it’s going to be yet another long day tomorrow.

003. A CHANGE OF STANCE

sunghoon thinks you’re hot.

what the fuck?

“i asked something,” you remind, pulling him out of his trail of thoughts and he flinches slightly, making your brows furrow in confusion. “how do i look?”

“huh— what? oh,” he takes in your appearance again. hair down, make up done— you’re wearing your favourite lip tint? and the best dress he has seen you in so far, looking so mind blowing it actually blows his mind and short circuits his brain. 

even your favourite lip tint … sunghoon doesn’t know why he’s looking at your lips in the first place but little does he know he’s fucked. 

absolutely. completely. fucked.

nonetheless, he manages to compose himself, clearing his throat and sitting up ever so elegantly on the couch, legs crossed, the magazine still in his hands. “you look…t-terrific,” 

you can’t help but get even more confused at his words, wondering if it was a bad idea to even ask him for his opinion, even though you play along. “like in a good way or a bad way?”

“in a terrific way,” he blurts out, eyes wide open as panic settles in slowly inside his stomach, and he’s stuttering, shocked, surprised, fucked, again. “you look terrific in a terrific way…so terrifically terrific in the most terrific way possible,” 

“are you high?” 

well, he would say he is! never in the two years that he has known you did sunghoon think he’d find himself floored, figuratively, and speechless, literally, at the sight of you. and he’s not saying you look bad on other days. you look good, in fact. good as in plain and presentable, but never in a good good way and definitely not in a hot way, of course. 

“anyway, i’m going out. receive my parcel for me if it arrives,” you move to put on your shoes, taking a few seconds to pick between the two you think would suit your outfit. for a moment, you consider asking him to help you choose— as you look at him up and down peripherally, and he looks terrified. and you shrug it off, grabbing one of your loafers.

“where are you going?” he asks after a good minute of silence, sounding calmer than earlier as he gets off the couch and walks up to you. his nose scrunches up in disapproval as your hands move to one of your jimmy choos for a brief second, before you decide to go back to your initial pick.

“date,” he takes a moment to register your words, despite this happening many times.

a date. he scoffs softly, looking away, arms crossed. 

a date, again. sunghoon doesn’t give a fuck. 

“with jay,” you continue, this time with a sweet smile on your face that makes his heart flutter for some reason. maybe, he does give a fuck. 

now, sunghoon should feel bad for his fellow friend of a friend because he’s on a date with you, but instead he wants to snap his neck in two. the name is starting to give him an ick— jay this, jay that. you’re hanging out with jay, having coffee with jay, going on a date with jay, shopping with jay, next would be going to bed with jay— he pauses immediately, shaking his head. he doesn’t really like the sound of that.

“whatever,” he tells himself when you walk out of that door, looking all pretty and excited. he doesn’t know why he’s getting so worked up over a date, that too with someone who— according to sunghoon and chaeun— is dating someone else. he would pay to see you back home all miserable and he would point fingers at you and laugh, saying he told you already while you had your conscience and rationality clogged up with the possibility of getting dicked down. 

but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re on a date with jay fucking park. and you’re looking hot. 

he sighs, slouching back on the couch, looking outside at the bright blue skies and then sighs again. he needs to be lobotomized.

it’s three in the noon and sunghoon is drowning himself in misery and pity. and soju.

a glass after another and then another, along with two empty bottles already on the table. even the owners are giving him a weird look and heeseung can only let him ruin his reputation so much.

“there, there,” the senior takes the half empty bottle of soju from his hand and puts it aside, sighing pitifully at sunghoon. “that’s enough for today. you need to stop drinking,”

“heeseung,” sunghoon looks up at the guy in front of him, looking horribly pitiful, eyes a bit unfocused from the alcohol settling in his system. “do you know yn?”

and heeseung pauses for a few moments, not knowing what prompted him to ask this question. more so when you and heeseung went to the same highschool and even were in the music club. he nods slightly in doubt, raising his glass to his lips. “of course,”

“do you think he’s pretty?”

“of course,”

“do you think she’s hot?”

“of course,” it takes heeseung quite a few seconds to respond and sunghoon sort of wants to punch him in the face for agreeing because he feels a certain way when others find you hot— but he would claim it’s soju giving him heartburns. “why are you even asking this suddenly?”

“she went on a date with jay,” he responds in the most miserable and sullen voice known to mankind. his shoulders practically slouching at the mention of he-who-shall-not-be-mentioned, finger tracing the rim of the glass in front of him with incoherent whines falling off his lips.

“so what?” jake interjects, beckoning the owner for yet another bottle for soju. it was necessary, as heeseung had warned earlier while arriving at the restaurant, considering sunghoon’s impromptu text about wanting to meet up. 

“jake, did you hear what i said? she’s on a date with jay. park. jong. seong,” the youngest spells out every syllable, sitting up straight as he gets defensive. “she thinks he’s madly in love with her or something but she’s wrong! the day i went out with chaeun, i saw him with jihye and guess what? chaeun said everyone knows they’re a thing but apparently, yn doesn’t know this. i’ve told her so many times that he is not worth it but she won’t understand she’s fucking dumb oh my god,”

and…silence.

absolute fucking maddening silence that made sunghoon go even more insane before jake finally decides to speak, albeit in disbelief. 

“that monologue was unnecessary,” the foreigner pours in another glass for the three of them, filling them up completely, knowing this is going in a new direction yet a one that has been anticipated by both him and heeseung. “besides, since when do you care about her?”

“she’s my roommate,”

“you like her,” heeseung exclaims, and silence follows again for a few seconds before sunghoon gasps scandalously, slamming his glass down on the table which turns a few heads in their direction as jake mutters an embarrassed apology for it.

“i don’t,” sunghoon speaks in a voice much calmer than his previous tone, even leaning in towards the table to put emphasis on his words. jake pours himself another glass, scoff at his words while shaking his head mockingly which only pisses him off more.

“i knew this would happen,” heeseung continues, stating it as a matter of fact while nudging jake to pour him a glass as well. “saw this coming from a mile away when you cried over her going on a blind date the last time you got drunk,”

he can’t point out when that must’ve happened, but he doesn’t refute his words, simply letting his eyes travel across the room for a few moments. the frown on his lips deepens when he meets jake’s knowing gaze as he gets defensive once again. “i’m telling you, i don’t like her,”

“you said that about hello kitty but she’s everywhere in your room now,” he turns his phone with the screen up when he feels jake’s eyes on it, or particularly on the hello kitty sticker on his phone cover as the boy nudges him for another glass. “go on, you’ll need it.”

and sunghoon does, drinking more than he usually does thanks to jake filling his glass again and again for the sake of his sob story. the cab drops him in front of his apartment and he stumbles his way to the elevator. the silence sobers him out for some reason as he leans against the walls of the elevator and thinks about you.

perhaps you’re still with jay, sharing smiles and stories, kisses if you’re brave enough. he likes to think you are not, that you would chicken out— it makes him feel better about himself. he imagines you holding hands with him and then shrugs that thought off his mind just as quickly, huffing at the bitter taste it leaves in his mouth as he walks out of the elevator once it reaches his floor.

sunghoon planned to take a shower and sleep, but every thought water downs to nothing when he spots you crouching next to the door with knees pressed up to your chest. he can’t see your face, but he knows you’re sad, and it makes him stop in front of you, his heart accelerating when you look up at him with glistening eyes.

you look miserable.

and sunghoon has no reaction. he’s frozen, hands on his side as he stares at you. he was supposed to laugh at you for your stupidity. but you look so utterly sad and heart broken, god, he wants to punch jay in his throat. yet again, every single thought leaves his mind when his eyes fall back on your face, his hands instinctively opening out to you as he speaks in a voice as soft as a feather.

“let’s go inside,”

004. CANDLELIT 

“he said it was a bet,” you speak over the silence, fiddling with your fingers. you look up at sunghoon— who’s sitting with legs crossed in front of you while you’re curled up in one corner of the couch. “and that he never meant to drag it out for so long but he didn’t know how to tell me,”

“a bet?” he scoffs bitterly, looking away for a fraction of a second before his eyes are back on you. “what an asshole,” 

it’s not the first time sunghoon has said that. in fact, asshole is all and the only word he uses to define jay. you still think it was a stretch, for jay isn’t that bad. sure, he lied to you and played with your feelings— which you will never accept that you had feelings for him because you don’t want to look pathetic— but he wasn’t rude. well, at least he paid for all the three dates you two went on with the locations being some high end restaurants or bakeries. 

on the other hand, sunghoon stares at you in silence. his eyes trace over your sullen face, and then to your fingers. for a second, he considers holding your hands…roommates can do that at least, right? to comfort one another, but then he catches you looking up at him and he averts his gaze to a distant corner. “don’t start crying now!”

“i’m not! i didn’t even like him that much…” and he can’t help but suppress his smile at the pout on your face as you refuse to look at him. it’s adorable, he never thought he would ever say that, but it’s true. your mannerisms are cute, you’re cute, and it’s eating his brain cells.

“is that so? you talked about him like you two were in love or something,”

“stop it!”

he stares at you quietly for a few seconds again. even though you’re being defensive out of embarrassment right now, trying to prove to him that you’re not heartbroken, sunghoon knows you’ll be crying the moment you’re behind the closed doors of your room. on other days, he wouldn’t care so much. not more than giving a few pats on a back and telling you to suck it up despite the concern in his voice. today, however, he feels differently.

you got played. it’s your heart that’s broken. you feel like a fool, and yet sunghoon is sitting in front of you, trying to find words amidst awkwardness and hesitation. his heart feels heavy for you. it’s unfathomable on his part.

he suddenly remembers the day you mentioned that jay is better than him. he almost scoffs at that, again. well, you might harbour feelings for the american guy but at least sunghoon never had you holding back your tears. and he swears it would never come to that, if you ever have feelings for him because sunghoon would be a better boyfriend— and then he comes back to his senses as soon as those words register inside his brain, cheeks heating up at the sudden thought before he clears his throat. 

“do you want ramen?” he manages to change the topic ever so swiftly, getting up from the couch and already walking to the kitchen without waiting for your response. apparently, getting away from you would ease his heartbeat, although hearing your voice has just as much effect on him as your presence or a mere thought of you.

“are you cooking?”

he lets out a breathy laugh at your words, getting two packs of ramen from the shelf. “of course, do you think i’d ask you to cook when you look like you went through a divorce and lost the custodies of all your three kids?” 

you frown at his words, although ending up laughing at them just a second later. it’s hard to not laugh at how silly he is sometimes, if you ignore his annoying tendencies. sunghoon puts the water to boil, fighting back a smile at the sound of your laughter. it’s better than seeing you all sad over a guy who doesn’t deserve you.

you get off the couch as well, making your way to the kitchen, wanting to help him since he listened to your sob story. it’s quiet, and you hear slight rumbling outside as you take a quick look at the weather outside through the windows and then within a few seconds, thunder pierces through the silence hanging in the room. 

sunghoon flinches visibly, freezing in his stance before the sound of heavy rain fills the kitchen. he turns on the electric stove and it blows out. all the lights in the apartment go out, darkness settling in and disturbed just as quickly as the room fills with bright flashes of light, illuminating your face for a short second before it’s dark again.

“wait, i’ll get my phone— oh,” you reach out for the back pocket of your trousers, quickly get your phone and turn it on for the flash light before it powers off. “out of battery,”

he takes a blind step into the darkness when it thunders again and he notices you standing with your arms around yourself when the light surges in the room for a moment again. he hopes you won’t push him away if he puts his arm around you, but then you two bump into each other. a quiet apology finds its way out of your lips, and he can tell you’re flustered. 

“where are the candles?” he asks to distract you from the fact that he’s holding your hand and pulling you aside gently, so you don’t crash into each other again. your hands feel oddly warm in this cold weather, and it only flutters his heart even more.

“second shelf from the right i think,” your voice is interrupted by thunder again and your hands instinctively tighten around his fingers. and then a loud thud follows, causing you to gasp slightly. “are you okay?”

“i can’t fucking see,” his voice is strained, oozing off pain as he lets go off your hands. you open your mouth to speak before he bumps into something again. something falls off the counter, perhaps the spoon by the sound of it and he apologises shortly after. it’s harder to navigate around his own apartment, more than he had imagined.

sunghoon manages to find the candles, setting them on the counter with pure intuition before lighting one of it up with the lighter he always carries around in his pocket. he turns around, almost bumping into you and before he could say anything, he sees you pressed up against one of the counters, face illuminated by the dim candle light. 

you’re close, too close, he’s afraid you can hear his heart going crazy at the proximity. his mind is telling him to step aside but he’s too lost looking in your eyes, ( as you are too ) with you looking so impossibly beautiful under the faint golden glow. 

“is this okay?” he whispers softly and you simply nod, not a word coming out of your mouth as you find yourself entranced by his face. sunghoon has always been aphrodite’s son, as his admirers would call him, and now that you’re seeing him so closely, you’re realising he’s something much more beautiful.

it doesn’t slip your attention how his gaze settles on your lips for a quick second, your body tensing up at the sudden movement. your breath hitches as he leans closer, dipping his head down. your heart is racing while he feels like his heart has stopped— it’s timeless, as he finds himself just a few centimetres away from your lips, not wanting to stop even though he gives you a chance to pull back, whispering softly, “can i?”

you nod. and sunghoon doesn’t waste another second, capturing your lips with his. 

it’s still at first, with your lips only pressed up together for a few seconds. it’s only a few seconds after he pulls back ever so slightly, and then tilts his head to the other side and goes in for another kiss, this time moving his lips slowly against yours. he feels you tense up for a brief while and then melting as you kiss him back, your fingers lacing around his tenderly. you flinch when it thunders again, breaking the kiss, but feeling shivers down your spine as you feel his breath on your lips. 

he takes a few seconds, fingers ghosting up your hands to rest on your waist, tugging you closer as he brushes his lips against yours. “focus on my lips,”

and he kisses you again, this time a bit more firmly, albeit it’s slow and gentle at first, his lips moving against yours in a way that's both comforting and exciting. but as the moments pass, he presses in deeper, more insistently. he lets his body press more firmly against yours, his chest touching yours as his tongue gently teases at the seam of your lips. it was working, the way his lips move against yours, it calms your nerves from the thunder but lights them up again when he nibbles gently on your lower lip, his fingers digging into the skin of your waist as he continues to kiss you so fervently. 

it takes a passing second for you to realise what you’re doing. it surprises you, however not enough to pull back, or maybe the way his tongue feels against yours stops you from doing so. you’d be lying if you say you hadn’t thought of kissing him before— as early as two days after moving in. and now that you’re actually kissing him, everything feels like a fever dream.

he tucks your chin up with his fingers, pulling you in closer to deepen the kiss. he is a good kisser, sunghoon uses that to boast about himself, he has always been good at this— kissing, bragging, making your knees weak, and all you could do was melt into him wet and sloppy kisses that he plants on your skin. 

he dips his head down to your neck, pressing sloppy, open mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, pulling your blouse aside to get a better access to your collarbones and shoulders. it felt like his body has a mind of its own, and he’s only following right behind. when a soft gasp leaves your lips, he moves back to your lips again, wanting to swallow every little sound you make that makes his mind haywire. 

your breaths are heavy, hands around his neck with fingers grazing the skin of his nape. a movement that makes him moan softly in the kiss as he presses you against the counter, holding you between his arms. his hand that's resting on your hip moves up, tracing the curve of your waist and then sliding under your shirt to rest on your bare skin, lips curling up in a subtle smirk as he hears you gasp yet again. 

“sunghoon—” you pull back, getting a quick glance at his half-lidded eyes when the lightning from the thunderstorm fills the room. he can still feel your laboured breathing on his lips and it does nothing but pull him in even more. after all, sunghoon would be lying if he said he didn’t imagine doing this with you.

“we’ll stop,” he pecks your lips, then trailing his lips down your jawline and to your neck, leaving a trail of gentle kisses along your skin. “when the candle goes out,” 

005. WHERE THE LINE FADES

when sunghoon wakes up the next morning, he’s met with cold empty sheets on the side and the memories from last night start flooding his mind. his heartbeat accelerates at the mere thought of you, especially how you were last night and every time his name fell off your lips in bliss and pleasure— he would’ve preferred waking up to you rather than emptiness. 

he lays idly for a few minutes and stares at the ceiling, looking for where it all had started. was it the day you told him jay asked you out? maybe not, he doesn’t like to think of himself as a jealous person. it must’ve been when you asked for his opinion on your outfit, he tells himself, you looked too good to be true that day. a few seconds more and he sits up with a soft groan, seemingly unable to find answers to any of his questions.

the weather seems to have improved as he notices the cosy sunlight outside. he slips on this shirt before walking down to the shared bathroom, rubbing his eyes softly and brushing his fingers through his hair with a sigh. he puts his hand on the door knob and looking up in surprise when it opens on the other side.

“oh,” the slight hint of shyness on your face doesn’t escape his gaze, just like how enchanting you look this early in the morning with hair wet from the shower. you bite slightly on your lower lip before the awkwardness in the air is disturbed by your voice. “morning,”

actually, it must’ve all started the day you moved in.

“morning,” he replies back, rubbing his nape and looking away. the weight of questions lingering around makes it hard for him to look in your eyes. “would you like to have breakfast?”

you nod and follow him into the kitchen after making a short trip to your room. 

you steal a few glances at him while eating your breakfast, feeling your palms sweat at the thought of bringing it up to him. you avoid it for a few minutes, tossing the question around in your head while trying to make small talks about the ketchup, as bad as it could get. it feels a bit suffocating until you finally decide to address the elephant in the room. “so about last night—” 

“it was a mistake,” he cuts you off immediately, a heavy pause following shortly after. he looks up in your eyes for the first time since the morning. “let’s just forget it,”

and his words leave a bitter taste in your mouth. it could’ve been just another one night stand for you had it not been with sunghoon— your roommate, the person you see everyday, the person who managed to give you butterflies the day you moved in. your fingers tighten around the spoon and you consider arguing back for a moment before you push that idea further back in your head.

it could be just another thing added to the lists of things that have been buried, like the time you and sunghoon almost kissed in the elevator last year.

“right,” you nod quietly, convincing yourself that it’s not a big deal. that he’s just another guy in your life like jay. actually, you don’t feel like wanting to compare them anymore. you don’t know where the line marking the difference fades. “of course, yeah,”

you don’t even like the sound of that.

“yeah,”

you don’t wait another minute before leaving your unfinished breakfast on the table and going to your room. his eyes follow your movements, conscience nudging him to chase after you. he contemplates it for a while, and then you walk out with your bag. “i’ll see you after classes,”

and then sunghoon doesn’t see you for the rest of the morning.

or the day, in fact. usually, you two end up bumping into each other at least once, but sunghoon doesn’t see you around for the whole day. he skips spanish, deciding to go back to his apartment earlier than usual. he turns on the tv, deciding to watch a football watch with beer on the side while waiting for you. an hour passes, then another, and another.

there’s no sign of you.

it isn’t until he rings up a few of your friends that he hears that you’re staying over at giselle’s for the night. he wouldn’t blame you, couldn’t, not after everything that went down a night ago. you needed some space and so did he, but somewhere inside he wondered if he should’ve been honest with you when you brought up that topic during breakfast instead of saying the first thing that came to his mind and dismissing it.

but, he dismisses it again, letting you be on your own for as long as you need, knowing you’d come back soon.

which you do, the very next day, much to his surprise. he had expected you to avoid him for at least a week. he notices the way you look when you return early in the morning, tired and exhausted as if you hadn’t got a single ounce of sleep. there’s silence engulfing him but you walk to your room before he could even open his mouth to speak. and then you ignore him for the rest of the day.

he starts feeling annoyed at some point, trying to come up with a reason for your actions. he tries striking up conversations with you and you give short responses, or just nod. when you walk away without answering him when he asked about your day, sunghoon wanted to grab your wrist and pull you back for a second, but he dismisses that idea just as soon as it pops up in his head. he doesn’t even realise how quickly time passes in silence, not until he returns from heeseung’s apartment after spending two nights and one day with him and jake and checks his phone, realising it’s already close to being a week till you’re gone radio silent. he notices a few texts, mostly his study group that have been planning meet-ups to study, one that he rarely attends. his eyes especially squint in confusion at the texts from your mother, saying she had been trying to get in touch with you but getting no response. 

he was on his way to his room when he heard the door unlock. a pause, the click of the doorknob strikes through the silence, followed by your footsteps. he takes a few seconds to sort out his thoughts before speaking. “your mom texted me since you weren’t picking up her phone,”

“my phone died,” you give a simple response, almost too quickly for his liking. he lets his eyes follow your movements as you take off your shoes and jacket, putting it on the couch. 

it takes him back to the day you told him about jay asking you out. 

it was exactly the same— you arrived late, your phone had died. he was asking the same questions, albeit laced with annoyance. today, it’s hesitation, maybe slight doubt. sunghoon can’t stop you from seeing jay, but the idea of you being with him bothers him more than expected. so, he follows up with yet another question. 

“where have you been?” he asks, wanting to maintain a casual demeanour even though his heart is pounding in his chest just from being near you. he isn’t expecting any response, actually, however he’s met with surprise when you actually reply. 

“with jay,” the words fall from your mouth as if you’re used to them, used to saying his name. there’s an awkward pause before you clarify. “we had dinner together. he wanted to apologise properly,”

“that’s— that’s great,” he manages to squeeze out, but sunghoon thinks jay could’ve left you alone instead of meeting you if he wanted to apologise so bad.

you definitely had feelings for jay, even though they didn’t go as deep for you to come home sobbing your eyes out the day you learnt the truth. to sunghoon, that is enough of a reason to hate him even more. just the mere thought of your heart sinking whenever you’d even think of jay made him fist his hands, nails almost digging in the palm of his hands. 

sunghoon doesn’t have much experience with girls. in fact, none at all. flings are one thing, and girlfriends another. he has had both— none too serious. the first time someone asked him out was in highschool, although he’s surprised it didn’t happen much earlier. that time, just agreed to go out with her because his friends were in relationships too and he didn’t want to fall behind. it wasn’t soon before it turned into a competition after he got into university. not his best self, it isn’t something he’s proud of now that he thinks about it. 

and sunghoon isn’t half better than jay in that aspect, although obviously not as bad as to bet on going on a date with another girl while he already has a girlfriend. however, if you had feelings for him— as he thinks while watching you walk to your room— he wouldn’t let a single tear fall from your lips. 

“about that night,” he follows you into your room, practically hearing his heartbeat echo through his ears. he gulps nervously when he notices you looking at him with a sliver of hope in your eyes. “it wasn’t a mistake,”

“oh,” and you stop in your tracks, having no idea how to respond. an awkward pause follows as you bite your lower lip habitually before speaking, feigning a casual tone. “well, we can still put it behind—”

“i don’t want to,” he blurts out, cutting you off mid sentence. you notice how his voice is quiet as always, yet there’s panic and anxiousness behind those eyes. “i mean, i tried to, but it’s difficult. you’re always on my mind,”

there’s a silver of determination behind his voice. it’s surprising and equally anticipated. sometimes, he feels like he thinks of you every minute no matter what he’s doing. it was never this bad, these days even the regular banters between you two give him butterflies. and sunghoon understand that he might be far from your type in men. perhaps, you actually prefer someone like jay, who treat you to a fancy dinner to apologise, or maybe that guy from a few months ago who can’t remember the name of. 

you and sunghoon can be polar opposites and he would still be standing here, fingers fidgeting nervously with the hem of his denim jacket, looking so uncharacteristically out of place. he would choose to have this talk again, as much as he hates confronting, because it never about who your type is and always about the fact that you’re sunghoon’s type— as he realises this when you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, looking at him with lips pressed together. you look cute, more so when you’re awkward, and he can’t believe he’s coming to terms with this but god, he is falling for you. 

he is falling hard, and falling deep. it’s nothing like him, you make him nervous, almost as if knocking him out of air whenever your eyes meet, and he would gladly suffocate to death. it was quiet with too many questions hanging above his head, and he noticed the way you fiddle with your fingers with the cutest expression known to mankind and sunghoon knew he was screwed. 

“i’ve got it so bad for you, yn, really,” —he speaks as if he’s out of breath due to the nervousness— “really bad. i tried to keep you out of here,” he said, pointing at his chest, cheeks flushing red as the words fell off his lips. “but you won’t go, you just won’t.”

and sunghoon has never been so…out of place, for the lack of better words. it’s amusing, even to you, the way he is right now. the sunghoon from three weeks ago wouldn’t even care but he, now, is pouring out all of himself, as if stripping him naked of his emotions and letting him see what lies behind the suave smiles and prideful words. as if showing you how easily you have him going crazy, right out of his mind and how he can’t help but just stare blankly as his eyes travel down to your lips occasionally— as they do now— and it leaves you in a frenzy when you notice it. 

“i can’t stop thinking about that night— not in a weird way, just…” and you’re just standing in front of him, trying not to laugh at his antics. he’s cute, a pause, what the fuck. and then you just go along with it, knowing there’s no point denying it anymore now that you two are having this conversation.

you notice his little mannerisms, like how he can’t look in your eyes for the life in him, how he keeps shifting his weight from one leg to the other. it’s adorable, especially the way he can have all the attention in the room with just his mere presence. that’s sunghoon for you, with a presence so heavy it’s loud even when he’s silent. it’s so loud you can practically hear his mind, of all the words you know he wants to say but can’t. there’s a hitch in his breath, his eyes meet yours for the first time in the past few minutes— i like you— they say, and the next thing sunghoon knows is that you’re kissing him. 

“i like you too,” you whisper against his lips after pulling back, your lips brushing against his. sunghoon feels like every single nerve in his body has been sparked, giving him goosebumps when you slowly intertwine your fingers with his.

of course, you know how he feels even before he could say it out loud. maybe, he just made it obvious for you to guess, otherwise sunghoon likes to think of himself as someone who can hide his feelings well. he lets go of your hands as soon as he feels you lace your fingers with his and instead, cups your cheeks ever so tenderly and leans down to capture your lips with his, smiling in the kiss. “i love you,”

˃ᗜ˂ : if you made it till here, i'm sending each one of u kisses >< thank u for reading, i hope u liked it. ps i had to put my heart aside and write jay's name ... never again will i put my man thru this huhu TT he's too good to do these things

[nathaslosthershit]

Long Distance (LN4)

Summary: Long distance relationships are hard, especially when they both have very time consuming careers

Warnings; Angst (a whole lot), no happy ending in this part (will happen in pt 2)

Request: hi!! requesting a lando norris x female uni!reader if possible reader being a medical student or a one of the engineers on the paddock 🧍🏻‍♀️

Lando wasn’t known for being the smartest on the grid. He, like many other drivers, had only a few years of school to his name. But that still hadn’t stopped him from being able to somehow ‘woo’ a woman quite the opposite. 

His girlfriend was currently in her last year of medical school. While he was unbelievably proud of how far she had come, the difficulties of long distance have gotten to both of them, and there wasn’t much hope once she graduated and was off to a medical training program. With her studying for finals and Lando being off to a new country every two weeks for Grand Prixs, their relationship has been rocky to say the least.

Constant lack of communication and missing each other's calls had led them to have tons of unspoken dialogue. Each unanswered call created the smallest bit of resentment that just continued to grow and grow. 

No more sweet ‘goodmorning’ or ‘goodnight’ texts, no more wishing her well before a big test, no more sending ‘good luck baby!’ before qualifying. Just a few ‘how are you doing?’ and other bland messages you’d send to a coworker, not your significant other. 

After weeks of little communication, they had finally scheduled a ‘zoom date’. Not particularly the most romantic date they had been on, but it's the best they could do with their schedules. Lando called in late at night for him while his girlfriend had a lunch break in between labs. Time zones be damned.

Lando was 25 minutes late leaving only 35 minutes to actually talk to one another.

Her wifi was spotty so it kept freezing.

Finally, with only 5 minutes left, Lando decided to make a joke that there is no reason for her to continue going to labs, as he would be happy to be her ‘sugar daddy’. This was not very well received by his girlfriend, who responded with a quick “fuck you” and hung up early.

Lando was joking, a bit. He loved his girlfriend and saw a future with her, he just couldn’t stand long distance and any job in the medical field was bound to take up most of your time. He wanted her, but he also wanted someone who could be by his side on race day. That just wasn’t something that was possibly currently. 

He supported her. He loved to brag about how smart she was and how she was so dedicated to helping people. But that came with setbacks.

After a quick message from Lando (‘I was kidding darling. You know how proud I am of you. Lighten up a little, yeah?’), which she ignored, she was off to her labs in a worse mood than before. Things couldn’t go on like this. 

He hadn’t heard from her in three days. His “how are you, love?” and “Miss you lots. Hope your class is going better than my neck training :(“ went unanswered. She knew she was being petty, but maybe a relationship was just too hard for her life currently. 

After three long and stressful days of silence, she called him. With no message asking what she needed to speak about, Lando feared he already knew.

“We can’t keep doing this” She said after they quickly exchanged a ‘hi, how are you?’ ‘I'm good, how are you?’. 

“Baby, I told you it was just a-”

“I know that Lando! It's just that this isn’t the first time you have mentioned me quitting my career to be your housewife or whatever unrealistic idea you have stuck in your head.”

“I don’t need you to be a housewife! I don’t want that for you. I just try to let you know that you don’t need to worry about your future as much because I will always be there to help you.”

“But I want a career! I want to work hard so I can have a good future. You need to get it into your head that your career isn’t the only important one.”

“I don’t think that! Me wanting to let you know that I support you no matter what isn't diminishing your career plans! It would be nice if you started to show a little more support. I am so sick and tired of all our conversations revolving around you and how your day was. If classes are rough, or you are stressed, you don’t respond to me. I never know where I land with you. But god forbid I try to mention how hard my day was. I am just as sick of it.”

She didn’t know how to respond. It seems that all the times she has been more focused on how she was feeling she completely forgot to check on how he was doing. Before she can even muster out an apology, Lando jumps back in.

“Maybe you are right. I don’t think I can do this either. Not anymore.” He feels his stomach dropping as he says the words, not fully meaning them.

There is a long silence, moments where she wants to apologize, to try and reconcile. In that moment all of the good memories of their relationship come flashing back to her, as if her mind is begging her to do something. But she doesn’t. 

“Then I guess this is it.” She finally says. 

“I guess so.”

Part 2 out now!

[casuallyanidiot]

Omg your yandere coworker *chef's kiss*

I imagine he's just frustrated and angry because he can't believe he's fallen for a loser like reader. Like they are such a mess all the time. So soft and easy to tire. They look so out of place in this workplace environment.

But over time it starts to click that all he was to do is take them away and keep them at home. Reader shouldn't even be at work! Reader should be sitting pretty at home like the good little spouse he knows they are all that they are good for!

Man he'll have to come up with a plan to make that happen wouldn't he?

Thanks! He's awful! :)

I think the worst part about Yan coworker is that he believes he's actually a good person. Maybe if he just acknowledged how scummy he was, he wouldn't be half as bad.

He he's had enough of you stumbling all over yourself like an idiot. Yandere Coworker pulls you aside one day into a storage closet. He's trying so hard not to snap and fuck you stupid against some half empty shelves, so instead he settles for gripping your arms. Isn't he a gentleman? Anyways, he lays it out for you.

"You need to quit," He says simply. His voice is gruff and firm, and you blink in surprise. "What?" You stammer out. He's tall, intimidatingly so, and you tremble as he holds you. "No, no I'm not- I can't quit! This is my job! I know you don't really like me, but that's out of line," You hiss out and squirm away from him.

Yandere coworker realizes you really are very, very dumb. There's nothing in that stupid little head of yours, is there? You can't even tell how much he's looking out for you. You're crumbling under the weight of this job, and he can't stand seeing you so unhappy.

But he makes enough money for the two of you. He can handle this while you can't. In fact, the more he thinks about it, he can't figure out just what in the world you would be good at. He tries to picture you as successful at anything and comes up blank. Huh... You really are good for nothing. Except,,, you would probably do well if you didn't have to do anything at all.

Yandere coworker starts to think about how much prettier you would be if you got proper sleep. He likes the way you look in corporate attire (That is on the rare occasions where you don't look like a hot mess), but he bets you'd like to be in expensive and revealing loungewear even more. The only thing you would have to do is keep your house tidy, and keep yourself nice and presentable for whoever provided for you. Yeah, you'd be perfect for that. And guess what? He could give you that.

Yandere coworker knows that you're far too stubborn for your own good. He begins to actively sabotage your work. He inserts spelling errors into your reports, changes the numbers of any potential client before you have the chance to make a sale. He allows himself to be more officially promoted, and with the new power he has, he assigns you increasingly difficult tasks.

You try and report him for essentially bullying you, but the complaint is thrown out with little care. He's one of the best employees the company had ever seen, and you were just some bumbling broad who couldn't even spell their own name right on official documents.

Before long, you're fired. Yandere Coworker uses his position in the company and many connections he has to essentially black list you.

You can't get a decent job in your field anymore. Plus you begin to get behind on rent and bills. Your life is going to shit, yet you still refuse to take him up on his many offers. It's infuriating, and he just wants to put you in a place that he knows you'll be safe and happy in.

Yandere Coworker just thinks your too dumb to realize how kind he's being. He hopes that you're smart enough to recognize how nice the trunk of a luxury car is. After all, you're going to be there for a while until he can get you to his home where you'll never have to use that useless brain of yours again.

[shuenkio]

Halloween's Love | Psh. 🎃

Paring: Sunghoon X M!reader | Genre: Smut.

Synopsis: A fun day turning into a hot Halloween when Sunghoon saw you in that witch costume that he brought for you.

Cw: Heavy smut, cursing, belly bulge?, mentioned of cum, gigantic Sunghoon size, curse, aggressive sh, bad language.

Non proof read | Eng is not my 1st.

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

🍁AN: Advance Halloween special for y'all after haven't active for 4-5 days. Again I'm still nerf in the smut field so, hope you can read peacefully ;)

It's the fall season, which means today was Halloween time. Also this is the first time in your relationship that you spend with your Boyfriend, Sunghoon. Even though it's not quite fun however since Sunghoon was here, everything is completely fine.

As for the Trick or Treat approach in the evening, You have nothing to wear for the costume since you forget to buy one, but lucky enough Sunghoon was quite thoughtful as he brought you a nice costume, just in case, and very unexpectedly one. A witch. It was quite revealing just for the thighs Abit but it's still appropriate for the public. Or not for Sunghoon?

Meanwhile Sunghoon, he was dressing up as a pumpkin man, you have never thought he would before, the fact that he was the cold one. However, this one is different from the pumpkin man you had known, Sunghoon was wearing loin clothes above his pants underneath, and a tight polo tank top that was clinging on his tone skin, if this isn't the pyramid head reference, you didn't know what else.

But actually what's going on inside his head? That's what you thought. The whole evening of trick or treat was fun, full of laughter and smiles, everywhere you explore the whole neighborhood. Everyone compliments that both of you and Sunghoon fit perfectly for the theme and as a couple too. Which somehow draws a satisfied smile on Sunghoon's face under the hot pumpkin head.

Getting back home, a basket full of candy. This year was the best year that you've spent your entire life. So fun so good so far. On the other hand, you noticed that your boyfriend was taking time in the bathroom to change, rather than longer than usual, and it makes your worries slightly. Heading toward the bathroom, you knocked on the door to ask how was him, but all you got was a Heavily breathing, like.... He was moaning?

A flash appears on your face once it clicks on your mind, yet you try to brush it off just because no way Sunghoon would do it, right?

But isn't that weird that it sounds like he was pleasuring himself. Somehow you didn't want to disturb him, but some part wanted to know if he's alright just in case.

As you open the door wide, your thoughts come to life. He was like what you're thinking. Your face grows even redder as you saw a glimpse of his tip before quickly turning around and looking away. Sunghoon was surprised to see you, a shame of embarrassed washing over him, however did he mind, no he don't. He was just catching off guard, you catch him in a moment like this.

"I-im sorry, I didn't mean to" Nervously mixing with excitement, you apologize. Sunghoon didn't know what to say so he responded back with another apology instead. Weird.

"It's not your fault M/N, I got carried away because y-you did wear the costume I brought for you" He explain, rubbing the back of his nape as he cover his crotch with a towel on, while your back still facing his.

"so... That was the only reason?" Swallow hard, in disbelief he was turned on by you wearing this witch costume, it was that sexy?

"No um it's hard to— say M/N but it have been a long time since I saw you in um y'know, showing off your skin and I want to ask— nvm" Sunghoon quickly turn around from facing your back, as his word slipped out what's from his mind. It's obvious what he wants from you. You gaze grow soft, once you realize he wants to make love with you— and turn this relationship to the next level.

"love! Why don't you tell me in the first place there's nothing to be embarrassed about, I can give it to you, now say the word" You state, turn to face him as he slowly turns to face you back and unfortunately, his towel falls off, accidentally revealing his massive length right there.

"You didn't mind? Uh yes i-i do want it, a... Lot"

"that's what I like to hear" You smile as you return him back with a kiss while your naughty hand, wrapped around his cock.

////

The bed's shaking from the movement of both of you, especially Sunghoon. He didn't hold back from what he meant that he wants it a lot. Even better, he's the one who suggested that fucking you in this sexy revealing Halloween costume on, was one of his dream and now you fulfilling it.

His rhyme was rough, and aggressive like a damn wolf, the way his cock moved in and out of your hole, the wet sound shatter alluring in this room, didn't do any favors but to make it more heat and aroused in the bedroom. It should be a crime, that his size was gigantic, very. The way his balls clap together and are full of load, lord if only he was asking for this earlier, you biting your lip, groaning in pleasure as he pounded on you very hard.

"fu-ck Sunghoon ~ you gotta speed it down, m-my hole won't hold on if you are this rough" you cry out in bliss, even if he would you'd not complain about it, this session was life changing.

"No M/N you feel too good to not, SHebal, you're so t-- tight ahmmm" His head throwing to the back, whimpers under his breath when he hit his sweet spot, as he continue to arching his hip, buried himself deeper and thrusting harder inside of you, chasing for that crazy climax, while snuggle his hands around your waist.

Subsequently, it became worse, the pace of his hip grew more uneven, the outline of his cock on your belly appeared extra clearly, as you both breath became more hitch and patted heavily, chasing for the perk.

But who was the one that feeling insane and drive themselves crazy about this fuck? There's no other than Sunghoon. Seeing his own work on your body, just giving him a satisfied achievement to himself, not only the way your dick bouncing up and down, leaking in pre-cum, as he is, back shooting you like there's no tomorrow only to make him, overwhelmed by amusement or should you say, it make him overstimulate?

"For God's sake, M/N fuck fuck fuck FUCK I'M CUMMING CUMMING—" waste no more time, Sunghoon feel a huge wave of orgasm building inside of him, as he spilled all his cum, finally empty himself inside of your ass, tighten his strength around your waist even harder as he thrust all in.

Eventually, both bodies collapse on the soft bed, since Sunghoon passes out already while still inside of you. Soon after, you also follow his orgasm through, cumming on your own abdomen, undone.

Once it's settled, you lay there beside him, taking some moments to catch your breath as you are facing him on the bed, staring at his wasted expression that he did for himself, adorable.

The atmosphere turn into quite and peaceful once again after this intense FUCK. The way his cock still in you, meaning that even if he was not in his mind right now, he'd still be close to you, in any way possible, and that the way he loves you, and you love him for that, also.

"Maybe you really want it, haha but look, you're the first to pass out"

[the-moon-loves-the-sea]

As someone about to be 24 in a few months, does it really get better the older you get? Genuinely confused and wondering because I feel like everyday I'm dragging my feet to just catch up to my peers -Sun

I promise, it really does. Our twenties are rough. That’s our very first decade on our own! You’re just getting started. And your peers who seem like they’re miles ahead of you aren’t really on the same path as you — not any more, not like when we were all in school and we had the same things to learn and the same few years to learn them in, and someone else would tell us when we were through. Now it’s all up to you what comes next.

So all of the ones who have lovers now, or their own place, or a bank account or a couple of dogs or a sense of personal style — none of them are on the same paths either. One of them will raise three kids and then years later start again with two more and do everything differently, and the first kids won’t know how to forgive them for it. And the one going on to their second degree will realize ten years later that they really hate the field they studied for. And they’ll decide to drink less or work less and have to live with the quiet when they slow down, and they’ll move in with their lovers and learn they don’t know anything yet about what they want in love or how to get it. Everyone starts over, over and over again. It’s not a race, it’s a rhythm.

But maybe you really are spinning your wheels and you don’t know how to get traction. How’s your depression? I needed meds, not the anti-anxiety meds they recommended me but proper adhd meds that took years to get. I needed my own space too. I needed new ideas. How kind are the people around you? Do they think good things about you? Are they constantly in crises? Does hearing them stop you from hearing yourself? I had to leave my hometown. I had to unlearn a lot. If you can’t leave, can you find one new person? One quiet place to think? One new author, one new song that’s angrier or lovelier that you can dance to at night or sing to yourself through a long day?

Did things get bad when you were still a kid? You might need extra time with the part of your mind that got stuck young and scared. Somatic therapy is really good. Music helps, and green space, and time working with someone who needs your company — kids or animals or older patients. Most schools and hospice programs need helpers. Making things for yourself helps too — trying until you learn what you like to write or eat or plant, not because it’s mature but because it’s yours.

And maybe you’re actually quite good at some things that you haven’t noticed because they feel easy to learn. How’s your photography, your writing, your memorization, your patience with small kids or spreadsheets or cleaning the little corners of a place? Maybe you don’t know; maybe it’ll take time to find out. If you’ve been diagnosed with anything like neurodivergence or chronic pain, the nearest town to you might have a vocational rehab center that’ll work with you to find your strengths and work you can do.

Anyway, I’m proud of you. You’re looking for hope. There is as much that’s good in the world as all the bad, and some of it is near you. I hope you know you belong here and we need you.

[buckevantommy]

alternate 8x06 where Buck doesn't race ahead:

They go to the movie. They share popcorn and hold hands and Buck watches a captivated Tommy more than the screen. He's thinking about date nights where they don't have to worry about two cars or parking. He's thinking about going to sleep next to Tommy and waking up beside him instead of one of them rushing back to their place for clothes or bc they have a shift soon. He's thinking about the drawer he gave Tommy turning into half a closet and all of Tommy's things in his space becoming their space..

..and then he remembers: Tommy has a garage with a carlift and engine parts and a muay thai setup. Tommy has furniture. Tommy has a yard and a garden and trees. Tommy has a house.

Buck turns his attention back to the movie. Now he's thinking about the illogical nature of asking Tommy to move into the loft: it's not fair to Tommy and also it's not the best idea. He doesn't know what the best idea is, yet, and maybe he won't know until he talks to Tommy.

Because that's where he went wrong in the past: moving in with girlfriends without actually talking about it first, it just sort of happened or was expected. and they all left him. He doesn't want Tommy to leave him. They've been together six months and haven't talked about the future. Buck is thinking about the future now so he needs to talk to Tommy - see where he's at and how he feels.

Back at the loft after the movie, in Buck's bed after sex, Tommy can sense Buck's restless mind. He checks in, because he always does, and Buck hesitates. Then asks: "Do you ever think about the future?"

And Tommy says sure, so Buck presses for details, curious, and then it's Tommy's turn to hesitate. But he mentions some stuff about work - flying certain crafts, heading up a training program, a few bucket list items, but all in all just keep doing a job he loves and keep renovating his little house or maybe there's a little holiday cabin that needs some work.

Nothing about Buck. Nothing about a partner or a family. Buck's heart does something funny in his chest, something uncomfortable, and his nerves kick in properly.

"What about you?" Tommy asks, and Buck swears he tenses under him.

"Captaincy, one day, I hope. I travelled a lot in my youth so I don't really have the bug for that anymore, but I was alone then. I think I'd wanna go places if I wasn't alone. And I don't wanna live here forever, obviously." He means the loft, but he's not closed off to the idea of living outside LA. And since he has no self preservation, he adds: "And.. you." He doesn't say mention getting married or being a father, because that feels like too much all at once.

His nerves are having a field day as Tommy remains quiet.

Buck leans up, terrified and desperate to see Tommy's face. "Do you.. see me in your future?"

They're naked and pressed together under the tangled sheets. Tommy's hand has stilled where it was tracing soothing patterns on Buck's arm. It isn't right. The air feels charged in a bad way, like waiting for lightning to strike.

"Evan.."

"I love you." He doesn't want to say it like this, not for the first time, but it suddenly feels urgent, like tommy has to know right now and maybe it'll change the way he just said his name - like an apology, like a regret.

"You don't love me. You love the idea of me."

And that- that's not true. And it hurts. And Tommy's face has fallen. "No, I-"

Tommy sits up, dislodging Buck, and swings his legs over the side of the bed.

"Wait- where are you going?" Tommy's gathering his things. He's getting dressed. Anxiety and dread swirl in the pit of Buck's stomach.

"I'm going home."

Home. It hurts to hear. "You don't have to leave-" Buck knows he's pleading, he doesn't care. He scrambles off the bed, tugging on his boxers as Tommy reaches for his shirt.

"I think it's for the best."

"No, it's not- we can talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about."

Buck stills. Tommy's holding his jacket, standing at the top of the stairs, trying to school his features to hide his emotions. He does that. He hides things. "What's happening right now?"

For a brief moment, tommy lets devastation show on his face, before it's tucked away behind a mask.

"I thought.." He doesn't know what he thought. He'd hoped Tommy felt the same, that they were on the same page. Six months in and he can already picture a life with Tommy.

"I'm sorry."

Sorry you thought this was more than what it was. Buck feels sick. His heart is stuttering. "Tommy-"

"Goodnight, Evan."

It feels like Goodbye, and Buck can't find the words to make Tommy stay before he's disappearing down the stairs and the loft door is closing behind him.

Sometimes lightning strikes the same place twice. Maybe it's connected to the string of bad luck that's followed him his whole life. Maybe he's jinxed, or cursed. Or maybe it's his own fault, his choices acting as a conductor for the kind of carnage most people only experience once.

[hiitsm]

Bound by Trust: Navigating Turbulance Together

Part 3.

You hesitate to open up to your girlfriend about what's happening at home because you've been explicitly instructed not to share it with anyone.

Angst, Hurt, a little bit detailed physical abuse by a parent (reader's), lot's of Comfort & Fluff

-

Part 1 , Part 2

Kindness

-

"And we talked to Ingrid's parents through FaceTime the whole night. I don't understand much of the Norwegian language, but I'm trying. I'm even doing better with Duolingo, you know," Mapi had been chatting non-stop in the car since you and Alexia picked her up from her place. Now, a little late, you headed straight to class and emerged two hours later, feeling utterly exhausted.

With Mapi sandwiched between you and Alexia, you made your way back. Ingrid had already been in class ahead of you three, working on her own project with other classmates.

"Mapi, we love you, but we're going to drop you with Ingrid now. You can talk her ears off now," Alexia playfully announced, gently pushing Mapi towards Ingrid as class finally ended.

"You can't get rid of me, Ale, we have football practice now," Mapi exclaimed, flashing Alexia a wide grin. You couldn't help but sigh inwardly; you had completely forgotten about Alexia's practice this afternoon. You had been hoping for a little bit of time together.

Sensing your disappointment, Alexia turned to you with a hopeful smile. "You and Ingrid can come watch us?" she suggested, her eyes bright with anticipation.

"I actually can't, I need to finish some papers," Ingrid replied with an apologetic smile.

"It's okay, I'll watch the two of them by myself with my own homemade ham and cheese sandwich," you declared, already imagining the delicious treat. After all, you were quite the foodie.

"Amor, you made one for me too, right?" Alexia interjected, her expression hopeful.

"Of course, mi vida. I think you would break up with me if I didn't make you one," you teased, rolling your eyes playfully.

As you sat outside on the bleachers and watched the team emerge from the locker rooms, Alexia shot you a grin, taking a hearty bite of her ham and cheese sandwich. You couldn't help but smile; watching her devour the sandwich in one swift motion was almost as impressive as her skills on the field.

You've always loved watching her play football. Her determination is inspiring, and her coaching skills are nothing short of amazing. With each movement on the field, she exudes confidence and passion, leaving you in awe of her abilities.

"Did you like watching me?" you hear from afar, Alexia walking up to you.

"I'll always like watching you, you are absolutely amazing, Ale!" you cheer, feeling a rush of pride for your girlfriend's talent. She sits next to you, and you lean your head on her shoulder.

"I'll have to leave soon to score some dinner before my practice," you tell her quietly.

"I can come with you so we can have dinner together," she offers, and it makes your heart flutter with warmth.

"Ale, I love you, but it's Thursday. Your mother always makes your favorite on Thursdays," you remind her with a chuckle.

"That's true amor, you know me so well. But are you sure you'll be fine on your own? Do I need to pick you up after practice?" she asks softly, her concern evident.

"I'll be fine, amor. You're exhausted and should go home to rest. If it makes you feel a bit better, I'll text you as much as I can. Deal?" you propose, offering her a reassuring smile.

"Deal," she agrees with a nod. "Now you need to kiss me, or the deal won't work," she adds with a playful grin.

You roll your eyes at her playful demand but lean in anyway, sealing the deal with a tender kiss.

As you had dinner alone and then headed to practice, things didn't quite click on the field. Trying out the defensive midfield role left you feeling out of sorts, but you tried to convince yourself that you just needed more time to adjust. By the time practice was over, you were exhausted and relieved to see your father waiting to pick you up.

The car ride home was silent, save for the soft hum of the radio. Wanting to reassure Alexia, you quickly sent her a text, letting her know that you were on your way home after a draining football practice.

Suddenly, your father broke the silence. "Things were a bit tense at home today, so you should be careful with your words and how you approach her," he advised, his words always leaving you feeling uncertain and insecure.

"Okay, I'll just be myself," you replied quietly, mentally preparing yourself for what awaited you at home. Your father sent you a reassuring smile, but deep down, you couldn't help but feel conflicted. All you ever wanted was to be yourself without constantly worrying about setting off a bomb with every word or action. You couldn't blame your father for his caution, but a part of you resented the constraints it placed on you.

As you walked into the living room, your mother was immersed in her work at the dining table, papers scattered around her. You greeted her with a simple "hi" and shared a bit about your football practice. Everything seemed normal, until your father retired to bed and exhaustion pulled you towards your own room.

"Are you going to your bedroom to sleep or to scroll on your phone all night?" her voice suddenly cut through the air, sharp and accusatory.

"To sleep, like always," you replied, confusion evident on your face. Sure, you might send a text or two to your girlfriend, but nothing out of the ordinary.

"I don't believe you. And why weren't you here for dinner?" she pressed, stepping closer to you. You instinctively took a few steps back until your back met the wall.

"I had football practice, and I always have dinner at university before that. You know that, right?" you answered quietly, trying to keep the situation from escalating.

"So now you think I don't know about your hobbies?" she erupted, her voice escalating to a scream. Gripping your right arm tightly, she shoved you further into the wall, your heart racing with fear and confusion. What had you done wrong?

"Mom, please, can I go to bed?" you pleaded, tears beginning to stream down your face. But before you knew it, she lashed out violently with her fist, while still gripping onto your arm with her other hand.

Terrified and desperate to escape, you managed to break free from her grasp and fled to the door. "This is not okay," you declared, tears now flowing freely. "This needs to stop."

Your mother's plea for you to stay fell on deaf ears as you grabbed your football bag and ran out the door, knowing you needed space and safety.

In your panicked state, you ran for what felt like miles, your mind consumed by fear and confusion. Eventually, the rational part of your brain urged you to stop and catch your breath. It was cold, and you realized you didn't even have a coat on. Lost and disoriented, you fumbled for your phone in your training pants and dialed the only person you knew you could turn to: Alexia.

"Hola amor, how was practice?" her soft voice greeted you, instantly causing tears to well up in your eyes

"Alexia," you managed to choke out between sobs.

"Si, bebe, what's going on? Are you okay?" her concern was palpable, and you could hear the shuffling of movement on the other end of the line.

"Alexia, my mother hurt me," you trailed off, unable to articulate the turmoil raging inside you.

"Amor, where are you? Please keep talking to me" Alexia's voice was steady, but you could sense the worry beneath the surface.

"I don't know where I am," you admitted, your panic rising.

"Can you describe what you see?" Alexia's tone remained gentle as she tried to guide you through the chaos.

You strained to describe your surroundings, hoping that Alexia would somehow find her way to you. In the background, you could hear hushed voices, likely Alexia speaking to her mother, and you clung to the hope that help was on its way.

-

I'll be back next week :)

[bvidzsoo]

I know you want me

⨳ Mafia!Hongjoong ⨳ 

∞ Author: bvidzsoo

∞ Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x female reader

∞ Warning: mentions of drugs, murder and illegal activities ∞ Word count: 3.5k ∞ Genre: non-idol!au, mafia!au, police officer!au, enemies!au ∞ Rating: nc-17 ∞ Summary: Working in the police was no easy feat, especially when you had been chasing after a mafia lord for the past six years. No matter how hard you worked and tried to find evidence, Kim Hongjoong always somehow came clean. But one day you finally get a lead that will help you succeed in your mission...or perhaps you've trusted Kim Hongjoong a little bit too much with your wine.

∞ A/N: Hongjoong's part is here, I hope you enjoy it! I think the tags for Wooyoung's part weren't working and that makes me a bit angry? Anyways, check out the other parts if you're interested! ^^ Next I will be posting Yeosang's part. Let me know what you thought of Hongjoong's part ^^ I'm not starting a taglist for this one, sorry<3 (you'll have to lurk around) Feedback is much appreciated and I hope you enjoy!

⨳ Listen to this before or while reading! ^^

∥ Hongjoong ∥ Seonghwa ∥  Yunho ∥ Yeosang ∥ San ∥ Mingi ∥ Wooyoung ∥ Jongho ∥ 

            In my field of work nothing was handed to you on a silver plate. The fact that I went to work daily was already a risk factor of losing my life—and unfortunately, with the passing of years and the many enemies I have made, I didn’t have to go into the office or out on the field to get killed. It was enough to sip my coffee on the balcony, or to go grocery shopping, or even just lay in my bed while watching a movie to unwind after the long day I’ve had. The city was a chaos, per usual, and the crime lords were on a rampant, wreaking more havoc than usual. There was a big influx of drugs sneaked into clubs and other entertainment areas these past two months that had officers, detectives, and even higher ups working their asses off in order to find the one behind it all, but almost each time we came up empty handed. It seemed like whoever was leading this illegal operation was a mastermind and made sure their steps were untraceable. Except that I wasn’t dense like my colleagues, I had my eyes set on one person since we’ve come across the illegal substances.

Kim Hongjoong.

Biggest mafia lord in the city and possibly wanting to expand his business overseas, it didn’t take long for me to connect the dots. It was Hongjoong’s doing, no doubt, but because he was too good at what he was doing, I couldn’t prove it. Not yet, at least. There were few things that could stop me—death being one of them—and I had been breathing down his neck for the past three months. The Kim Enterprise led by him, on the outside, seemed like an inoffensive car dealership that had multiple deals with overseas companies and collaborations with the biggest existing brands. However, once you looked through the cracks and investigated the Enterprise with a critical eye, you realized everything was hidden in plain sight. The cars they imported and exported often times were filled with either illegal substances or weapons that Mr. Kim should have never gotten his hands on—he also wasn’t shy to admit all the money laundering he’s been doing for the past six years.

But somehow, he always came up clean, without the possibility of directly blaming him for all the mayhem and crime he’s committed. He had great men backing him up, unfortunately, and I had been forced to dig deep and into ugly places in order to finally find something of value, something that would finally put him behind bars and destroy the empire he’s built for himself. He was no stranger to me or my colleagues, but perhaps the most infuriating part of our strictly professional relationship was the fact that he was always eager and happy to let us raid his warehouses and headquarters—perhaps because he knew we’d find nothing of actual value that would finally put an end to this fiasco.

Not tonight though, finally I found a little piece of evidence that fit our puzzle the right way. He wouldn’t be able to argue its authenticity, perhaps because it came from one of his insiders that had grown sick of all of the mistreatment and threats he’d been forced to take. The world of a mafia lord was sick and twisted, dark and unforgiving. The man who had given us a small piece of information had been placed under surveillance for his own safety as we know Mr. Kim too well, he’d definitely kill our informant the second he lays hands on him, and we couldn’t have that right now. We still need this person for further information and insight about Mr. Kim’s thorough plans. We finally had a real lead and we couldn’t let it go to waste.

That is why, in true fashion to myself, I had sent a formal invite to Mr. Kim for a quick dinner to discuss business. He loved being over the top, but he also loved declining our formal requests to meet up, and so, proposing to have dinner together is something I know he never turns down. Perhaps he liked the thrill of sitting at a table with an officer that’s been after his ass for the past six years, perhaps he enjoys the power play and the rush he gets every time one of our evidences get debunked by him. Not tonight, though, tonight will be different. My colleagues have been against me going alone to the fancy restaurant—which definitely wanted to refuse our request as they were fully booked, but upon pulling a few strings, I got us a table. After all, it was Mr. Kim’s favorite restaurant, they couldn’t refuse him if I used his name for our reservation.

“You’ve been just promoted, Y/N,” My colleague and also closest friend, Irene, said with a worried expression on her face, “you’re not supposed to head out onto the field so heedlessly.”

“But it’s not headless, Irene,” I grinned at her as I tidied my desk, feeling triumphant that I managed to book the table for tonight, “It’s necessary.”

“You’re trying to show off to him, and that’s dangerous and headless—”

“It’s an intimidation tactic, and to be honest, I do deserve to show off after everything I had to go through because of him.” I muttered as Irene sighed defeated, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“And if he refuses?” I chuckled as I gave Irene a knowing look.

“Kim Hongjoong refusing a meeting when he thinks he’s still got the upper hand and can humiliate me once again?” I shook my head as I pushed my chair back, “Impossible.”

“Fine,” Irene’s jaw clenched as she shook her head, “But wear a tracker and a camera, and alert me if things get out of hand. I refuse to have a repeat of last time—”

“It was an accident.” I sighed, frowning at the memory, “He didn’t mean to hurt me, the attack was aimed at him and I was there at the wrong time—”

“Whatever narrative you’ve told yourself of him protecting you is pure bullshit, Y/N.” Irene’s tone was harsh and I knew I couldn’t argue with her anymore, “He kills people for a living, he gets innocent people hooked on drugs, and he terrorizes those who refuse to work for him. He did not save you, he wanted you dead. You saved yourself, end of discussion.”

And perhaps Irene was right, but she wasn’t there when it happened. When the fire was opened and aimed at me, had Mr. Kim been a second too slow, I would be lying six feet under now. But Kim Hongjoong sprung up from his hiding place and yanked me behind a wall that kept the bullets from piercing both of our bodies, his eyebrows furrowed and a pissed look on his face as I tried to catch my breath from the sudden adrenaline rush. And Irene wasn’t there when Hongjoong killed every single one man that aimed their weapon towards me. She wasn’t there when he drove me back to the station and waited almost four hours until I was done with reports and a medical check-up and a visit to the higherups to drive me back home. Irene definitely wasn’t there when I noticed two of Hongjoong’s most trusted bodyguards stand the whole night in front of my gates just to keep watch and make sure I wasn’t targeted again. Kim Hongjoong was a criminal and a bad man, but he had an ounce of goodness in his heart somewhere deep down.

            The lights in the restaurant were dim and gave the place an intimidating aura, I can see why Hongjoong likes it here. The tables were separated and placed at bigger distance, offering privacy for those who wanted it. The table I had been sat at was a separate booth, more towards the kitchens as I was told it was Mr. Kim’s usual table, and I was surprised to find three red candles placed in the middle of the table and rose petals strewn across the white silky tablecloth. It felt prestige and definitely expensive. The whole setting made me feel a little bit uneasy despite the low murmur of conversations surrounding me, and I tried not to fiddle with my fingers anxiously. I had to appear confident and like I was here for serious business, ready to take down the mafia lord that still hadn’t shown up. He was fifteen minutes late now, and I have started doubting whether he was coming. It also didn’t help that the black spaghetti strap dress was tight as fuck as if it was moulded against my body, forcing me to hide my handgun as it was strapped against my inner thigh where its outline wasn’t visible. It was a little uncomfortable sitting down with it as it dug into my skin, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. I’ve had to go through things far worse than this before.

The waiter had served me red wine when I had sat down, but I haven’t touched it yet, keen on waiting for Mr. Kim before consuming anything I was given. I had just started getting disheartened and ready to phone Irene that maybe we should hit a bar since I’m all dressed up, when Mr. Kim finally showed up, looking a little dishevelled. His dyed ginger hair was messy on top of his head and his cheeks rather flushed as he approached the table, sharp cat-like eyes settling on my form with a smirk stretching onto his lips. I gulped and straightened my back, raising my eyebrows questioningly at him once he plopped down in his seat rather unceremoniously.

“Miss Yang, I’m sorry for making you wait.” His voice was velvety as he spoke up, grabbing the white napkin off the table, “Something urgent came up and I had to take immediate care of it, I’m sure you understand with your field of work.”

“Completely, Mr. Kim.” I grinned slyly and Hongjoong hummed as I watched him rub his hands and knuckles against the white napkin, which wasn’t pure white anymore but covered in red spots. My eyes lingered on them knowing that it was most likely blood, and I could feel Hongjoong’s eyes watching me carefully. When I looked up, he had a challenging look in his eyes as he waved his hand lazily towards the waiter who disappeared behind the bar.

“It isn’t a daily occurrence I get asked on a date by a woman like you, Miss Yang.” I huffed in amusement as Hongjoong smirked once again, leaning back in his chair as he spread his legs wide, “May I know how I got so lucky?”

“We should wait for your drink first, Mr. Kim, I feel like making a toast.” I answered with a smug tone as my long red nails tapped against my glass filled with wine, making Hongjoong chuckle as he nodded.

“Very well, I have others things I can chat about either way.” He clicked his tongue, eyes slowly traveling from my eyes down my body, no doubt stopping at my chest as the dress did a shit job at covering my boobs as it should, but for once I didn’t mind, “You look ravishing tonight, Y/N, I wish we met in a setting like this more often.”

“With my field of work I rarely get the chance to dress up all pretty,” I mused, pushing my long hair behind my shoulders, “but tonight’s a special occasion, I had to dress accordingly. And it seems it was a smart choice given that you look handsome yourself, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong chuckled, eyes creasing as he scrunched his nose. For someone who was a dangerous mafia lord, he certainly could look rather cute in a way that seemed almost uncharacteristic, “What a compliment from you, thank you. It’s not often I hear you call me by my name.”

“Casualties need to be put aside when we’re talking about your business.”

“But isn’t that why we’re here?”

I grinned, hand resting on the white envelope placed on the table, “Exactly, but until we get to the business talk, I’ll indulge and play along with you, Hongjoong.”

“I’m afraid I got you wrapped around my finger, Y/N.” I snorted as Hongjoong bit his bottom lip with his eyes boring into mine, one eyebrow raised almost mockingly. But before I could retort anything, the waiter approached us with Hongjoong’s expensive whiskey and bowed upon his departure. Hongjoong hummed and grabbed his glass, raising it as he waited for me to do the same with my glass of wine. As I have said, I intended on making a toast. I couldn’t help but smirk as I raised my glass and titled it towards Hongjoong.

“To the downfall of your enterprise and empire, Mr. Kim.” I couldn’t help but feel elated as Hongjoong’s face fell, eyes hardening as I chuckled and took a long sip of the sweet wine, humming in delict at the expensive taste of the alcohol. Hongjoong almost hesitated for a second, but he took a sip of his whiskey and shook his head as his eyes fell on the envelope. I placed my glass down and traced its surface almost mockingly as I stalled handing the envelope over to him, “You see, Mr. Kim, it’s usually those closest to us that can ruin us the easiest and fastest way.”

“I suppose whatever you have in that envelope won’t be to my liking, Miss Yang.” I chuckled and nodded as I grabbed it and looked at it before handing it over to Hongjoong. I settled back in my seat and grabbed my glass of wine to sip on it as I watched the fearless mafia lord’s jaw clench as he emptied the envelope’s contents and paused as he scattered all the evidence out in front of him. I grinned behind my glass as I took a large gulp of the wine, enjoying the rich taste of it as it bloomed around my taste buds, making me sigh in content as Hongjoong’s neutral mask slipped into one of anger. I chuckled under my breath as I took him in, eyes straying to the exposed skin of his chest as he was leaned forward and wore nothing underneath his jacket. Silver chains hung around his neck and his ears had more than one earring piercing them, his pinkie nails painted black on both hands as a few chunky rings clung to his thick fingers.

He scoffed loudly and I quirked an eyebrow at him as he threw me a glare before looking back down at the papers, his jaw set tight as I swiftly finished my wine. It’s been long I had something as fancy as this one as I usually opted for the cheap beer from the convenience store after a strenuous and challenging day while I sat on my couch in the living room and watched whatever reality show was on at the moment.

“Miss Yang,” I perked up as Hongjoong sighed, tone tight and displeased, “I thought our respect was mutual after all these years of knowing each other and collaborating, yet here you are, meddling with my personal life.”

“Oh, but Mr. Kim,” I interlaced my fingers and placed my elbows on the table as I leaned forward with a fake concerned look on my face, “I thought there were no secrets between the two of us, yet here we are, with proof on our hands of all of your wrongdoings and missteps, Mr. Kim.”

He chuckled as he threw the papers onto the table and tsked, eyeing my empty glass of wine, “I heard you’ve been promoted to Deputy Chief, shouldn’t one of your baboons be sitting here with me instead of you?”

“I couldn’t miss seeing your reaction, Mr. Kim.” I chuckled and he nodded, eyes narrowing as he leaned forward, mirroring my position.

“You should thank me for getting as far as this, Miss Yang, without me you would’ve been useless to the police—”

“If that is what you wish to believe, Mr. Kim, go ahead.” My jaw clenched at his blatant disrespect as I cut him off, “But at least I wasn’t outed by my own brother.”

Hongjoong’s eye twitched as he scoffed and hastily grabbed his glass to throw his whiskey back. I smiled as I enjoyed seeing him in real distress for the first time, seeing him uncapable of stopping me this time. But I also became aware of the subtle thumping of my head, of the immediate effect of the alcohol I had consumed. Could it be so strong that it already got to my head? I thought I had a rather high tolerance for alcoholic drinks.

“I am sure my brother has his own reasons—”

“Like many people I’ve come across, Mr. Kim, your brother grew sick of your schemes and deals, and chose to right his wrongdoings.” I cut him off once again, the headache growing a lot more persistent and disturbing. My body suddenly felt like it was moving a lot slower than it actually was, making me shake out my hands as I leaned back in my seat. Once again, Hongjoong’s eyes fell on the empty glass and my eyes narrowed as he grinned before shaking his head.

“My brother is a fool,” Hongjoong muttered and then gathered the papers and slowly slipped them back in the envelope, “when will you raid my warehouses?”

“Probably tomorrow.” I hummed as I had to blink my eyes a few times to clear the haze that threatened to settle upon my vision, “Can’t let you have too much time at your hands to dispose of all the evidence, can’t I?”

“I appreciate your effort of warning me,” Hongjoong hummed and licked his lips as he paused for a second, watching me closely as my legs started feeling like lead and my arms tingled, “you’ve always been a great asset to my organization, Miss Yang, so aware of everything yet never close enough to prove anything.”

“I’ll do anything it takes to finally take you down,” I hissed, venom coating my voice as I had to force my eyes shut upon the violent headache that seemed to leave me immobile, “I’ve had enough of watching people suffer because of you, Hongjoong.”

“Perhaps you’ll hate me a little more after tonight, Y/N,” Hongjoong chuckled as I tried to gulp but my throat felt parched. I tried to move, but I couldn’t, and I panicked as I realized this wasn’t normal. Whatever this was, it had to be Hongjoong’s doing and as my eyes fell onto my empty wine glass, Hongjoong chuckled and leaned over the table to grab it, “because I have tricked you once again. My brother is my most trusted asset to my organization, I knew we could lure you out if I sent him running to you with forged evidence.”

I tried to sit up and grab for my gun, but even my tongue felt heavy to move as I frowned at Hongjoong, heartrate picking up as I realized I had foolishly fallen into his well-thought-out plan, “Some of my business partners are fed up with you always lurking around our asses, so I had to do something about it if I didn’t want to lose them.”

I tried to speak, but all that came out was a weak sound in the back of my throat making Hongjoong chuckle. My head was pounding and even the dim lights bothered my eyes as I felt dizzy, struggling to stay awake as everything in me was growing soft and calm, “I respect you greatly, Y/N, and quite frankly I like you a lot. It’s hard to find a confident, ambitious, and strong woman that doesn’t abide to my wishes straight away these days. It’s truly a pity that we’re on opposing teams, darling.”

There was a beep coming from his pocket and he grabbed his phone and chuckled as he picked it up, sounding too cheery as I struggled to fight the sleep that was threatening to knock me out for God knows how long, “I told you it would be easy, bring the van to the back.”

I tried to protest as my eyes fluttered open and Hongjoong pushed his seat back and stood with a mischievous smirk on his lips as he slowly approach me, his wide legged pants making him look taller than he was, “You’ve been working hard, Y/N, it’s time for a little vacation, don’t you think? Have you ever been to the Bahamas? I have a really important gig to pull off and I really can’t have you sniffing around my ass like a wild dog.”

I managed to gasp as suddenly Hongjoong’s hands were around and underneath my body, lifting me off the chair as I hung limply in his arms as he stared down at me with pursed lips, “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

And with the promise rolling off his tongue in a whisper, the drug that had been infused with my wine kicked in completely and I couldn’t help but surrender to the serene darkness that lulled me to a deep sleep in Hongjoong’s strong arms.

I need to call Irene once I am conscious again. I didn’t wear a tracker.

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❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^

[leeneir]

Hehy! If you are writing Yandere can I request canons for Iso?

Look at Me Please; Shy Yandere!Iso x Reader Headcanons P.1

I'm working on another req fic as we speak, but I'm taking breaks to do this one bc him being "Mine all mine" is very appealing🥰🫶

And yes, part 1. This prompt just got my Iso loving brain rolling.

Pre Relationship

I want you to think of these like its u and him progressing, as if its a timeline of ur relationship.

- A shy possesive yandere. You are his, no questions. But he doesn't have the courage to show it enough (for now.)

- Iso was always forced to cut off his connections due to the organization, but the Valorant Protocol was different. He found someone there worth going against everything he's known all his life.

- The moment his eyes set on you, he had an overwhelming urge to always be near you and always wanted to know where you were and who you were with.

- He spots you and Jett having flirty banter in the hallway and later during training 'accidentally' shot a bullet which shoots through the wall right next to her head. He barely glances at the wind radiant and mutter a half-hearted apology, but that glance was enough to give Jett the creeps.

- You notice how he's always near or around you and you decide to befriend him like the friendly person you were, you'll notice how his eyes fixate on you as if you were a precious jewel in the muddy dirt but don't pay it any mind.

- While you were chatting, he suddenly blurts out "You're beautiful," and immediately goes red in the face and stammering out apology after apology while he pulls his collar up to cover his face.

- You laugh as you try to calm him down, saying that you were flattered that he thought so. You place your hand on his shoulder while his back is turned to you and he freezes for a good 3 seconds before he looks back at you, his eyes had such intensity as they met yours. You pat and reassure him again, telling him that you thought he was handsome too.

- He decided something that day. Killing Omen wouldn't be worth it because it meant he'd have to cut off the valorant protocol, meaning he'd never see you again. Being with you was better than having to deal with his employers anyway.

- You, and your voice he couldn't get enough of, and your amazing skill and talent both in and off the battlefield, and your pretty face, and your pretty body, and your enchanting self that he wants all for himself.

- Back to actual headcanons. He's always very desperate to get your attention but he's too shy to actually ask for it. Which is why he'll always make sure to outperform everyone during training so that he can receive sweet praises from you that he'll repeat in his head for weeks.

- When you get injured out on the field on the same mission, Iso will go berserk. Even if it's just a graze. All you can do is hope that he'll be ok when he goes silent on the comms.

- Iso does NOT listent to reason and destroys his earpiece as he slowy digs his knife deeper into the enemies throat. How DARE they ruin your perfect body.

- He's always watching. Always in the darkest shadows where you never even know he's there. He has his eyes on you more than Cypher.

- Speaking of him, Iso has threatened Cypher to keep his prying eyes and ear aeay from you. He doesn't deserve to even be on the same world as you. His arena has space for a new corpse if need be.

- He doesn't take snacks offered to him by other agents. If you offer though, he wouldn't even eat it. He'd place it in his room with all the other memoirs he's collected from you.

- As time goes on, he gets braver. He starts putting his hands on your back, he initiates conversations, he offers you private training sessions and more. But that doesn't stop the ever growing urge to hold you, touch you, and keep you all to himself and not let anyone else even look at you.

- No one will get in the way. And I mean no one.

- If you get hurt again, he'll insist he'll patch you up himself. There's no need to go to Sage when he has an excuse to touch you can fix you up too.

- One day, you shoot your shot. You ask him out on a boba tea date, and he has to take a moment to compose himself. YOU were asking HIM out on a date? Was this a dream? Was this a prank by you and the others?

- Either way, he agrees with a soft smile, saying how he's been interested in you for a while and also wanted to ask you out but never knew how to. You laugh, your sweet, sweet, deliciously beautiful laugh he wants to hear more of and you joke about how you beat him to it, before setting up a time and meetup location before going off to your room to get ready.

- You don't notice the way his eyes are eating up the sight of you, and you don't notice how his soft smile turned into one of pure ecstasy and hunger. His face completely red at the idea of going on a date with you and is just so happy that he almost forgot about his plan to cause a minor life-threatening injury to Yoru for being such an asshole to you earlier that week. Almost.

[grison-in-space]

Hi fellow neuroscientist and animal behavior observer! What's up? It's a weird ass time to be a scientist in the US right now. Like there's the doom and despair taking up most of my brain but also I have a lab presentation in 1.5 weeks and my committee meeting two weeks after that. How do you make yourself focus on lab/science stuff?

I'm so sorry it's taken me a while to get back to you; I've been rotating this ask in my mind for over a week now. I hope your lab presentation went well, and I hope your committee meeting does, too. Bear in mind that I am reeling as much as anyone else, but... well, I have had a lot of things happen during my academic career, and I have had some practice with this by now. I was displaced from my home three or four times during grad school, and all but once that was because of climate change related flooding. (I actually cannot remember offhand. That kind of thing fucks with your ability to reckon in chronological time, which is why no one has been able to work out how years work since 2020 at latest.) I did my PhD in Texas, too, which gave me some exciting experiences around campus violence and guns.

But maybe the biggest thing for me is that I started grad school in 2012, right in time for the government sequester of 2013. That was the year Patty Brennan (of corkscrew duck penis fame) published an article in Animal Behaviour laying out helpful tips in case your research is targeted as "wasteful spending" by members of Congress seeking to reduce scientific funding. Brennan's work legitimately is groundbreaking--I started out close enough to her field to be able to say that almost no one was looking at vaginal anatomy when she started and she's really driven the field of reproductive conflict forward by systematically looking at methods by which females exert "cryptic choice" to control their own reproductive futures. But it sounds silly at first blush in a sound bite, so she immediately became a target when her work went viral. And that paper came out a decade ago, and we are no better than when we started.

I've gotten pretty good at working through grief and fear, and I've tangled with burnout more than once. So how do you handle it when everything is overwhelming and frightening?

You sketch out the work you can do, and you do it as best you can. Same as anyone else.

Here's the thing. You're a budding scholar. Whatever your field is, you probably know more about it than anyone who isn't a scholar in your field already, and you care about broader justice or you wouldn't be asking me this. This makes you a precious potential resource for whatever activist cause is nearest and dearest to your heart. You are placed, as a person whose career is focused on the pursuit of knowledge, in a position of great authority. Yes, even as a PhD student, although I do agree that having the PhD makes the things you say even more impactful. But you'd be surprised how far even just "PhD student" can go when you're making a stand.

You are a valuable voice when it comes to the intersection of your expertise and your community--and by that, I don't just mean your discipline and your geographical location; I mean your lived experiences and your identities too. If you burn out, your voice and effort may be completely irreplaceable. So make sure you don't burn out, but don't waste your potential to speak out, either. You can do that by working out what your "beat" is: pick one to two things you care really deeply about working on in the world, that you want to make better, and focus on those. Use your authority to make changes.

Currently, my "beat" is focused on disability justice (especially in terms of neurodivergence) and sex/gender, because those are communities I am part of and that I think deeply about. My work there can take a lot of forms: shoving hard on the pernicious medical thought process that tends to conceptualize disorder and disease as a deviation from a uniform functional population; pointing out the complexity inherent in sex differences and sex itself; building relationships with disabled academics to make networks for one another so that we can better support trainees as well as ourselves building alliances between disability justice scholars and researchers tackling these topics with an eye towards integrating the comments and interests of disabled people into the field of study that theoretically focuses on us. These are topics that tie into my research interests (context dependence, decisionmaking, strategy, developmental plasticity, etc) but also into my sense of justice and the communities in which I spend my life as an autistic queer butch.

Think about the things you care most about making better, and think about how those things intersect with your research interests. Is there a bathroom bill you could write a deposition for explaining how complicated sex actually is? A local news reporter who could use a scientist talking about the long term climate impacts of the new fracking project up the road? A new policy on immigrant familial separation that is going to lead to kids with major attachment issues down the line and increase the odds of terrible outcomes? Creative ways to send promising undergrads from underrepresented backgrounds on for new opportunities if you live in a state where DEI initiatives have been banned? (Man, that was an exhausting conversation to have with the North Carolina folks at my last conference. And the Floridians.) Where will your voice carry the most weight for the amount of energy you allocate to it?

Here's my best stab at practical advice for junior trainees:

Figure out what your limit for practical engagement is and defend it viciously. The thing about being in academia, and about having the PhD for that matter, is that it gives you a lot of leverage for speaking authoritatively about problems in your field and in your community. This, too, can be a form of activism and shaping the world. But if that's the weapon you are making out of your career, you can't also be an effective organizer on the ground for eight different local causes. You can't do everything at once, so pick a limited subset of things to focus on and work on those. Like academia, public impact will suck you dry if you let it, so you have to set boundaries and you have to be clear with yourself about that.

As always with research, your topic should be something you're interested in. Apply your priorities as a human being to your research. Move your project in directions you really care about and which are aligned with your values. Talk with your mentors about how you pitch that to other scientists in your field, of course, but if you're really shaken and scared by the political climate... well, better to apply that to your work than to not be able or interested in focusing on the work at all.

Look for things to celebrate and militantly celebrate them, even if it feels silly. You submitted a manuscript? Make a special dinner. You survived your committee meeting? Meet up with a couple of friends for coffee and cheering. You need things to cheer about, and your job is not going to naturally provide them, so lay out things you can celebrate and celebrate them even if you don't feel like you really achieved anything. (Your PI should help with this, but a lot of them don't. If your PI is absentee, try to find labmates or colleagues to celebrate when you can.) Joy and pride fuel us to keep going; make sure you are feeding them. You do not need money to make this happen, either: there are inexpensive ways to make things feel special, even if your stipend doesn't stretch nearly far enough.

Especially if your lab isn't full of people in your corner, make some friends who feel the same way you do about your "beat". Fellow activists (or just people who care) about your biggest priority are a great choice. Back in the day, I would have exhorted you to join Twitter to build that network; these days, I think most everyone is on Bluesky or Mastodon. You need people who get you and who are in your corner, and you need people who don't have power over your career to help you weather it when the storms rise.

People in the midst of despair don't know the future, either. There will be victories to come moving forward. It will be impossible to imagine them as you are today. The future is murky and uncertain, and you never know what battles you can win until you pitch them. Don't let anyone tell you a battle has been lost until you fight it, and don't make the mistake of thinking that what you do today doesn't matter intensely.

Life is iterative: it always starts from what you do today, and small aggregate decisions have a lot more power over the whole than any individual large one. If you don't like the direction you're going, you can always change direction for a while and see where you go. The best time to plant a tree was ten years ago; the second best time is now.

Find ways to take breaks completely from the political situation. Currently, I have just gotten into Minecraft for the first time, and I am playing a lot of stupid pixelated escapism games. You have to have time to recharge yourself away from all of it. Whatever that looks like to you is good enough. I need, personally, to get back into going for long walks in the woods; that one is one of my old reliable helpful ways to think without getting overwhelmed about it.

So. I don't know if anything has gotten better or worse for you over the last couple of weeks, but I hope for better for you. As for me... well, it's probably time to go back to my grant. We're short on funding going into this mess and who knows if the grant I'm writing for an explicitly DEI-oriented program will survive the coming hammer blows long enough to get it in. Even if it doesn't, I have a couple of book pitches I'll write up and a couple of suggestions for jobs along the way I can take. I can always redirect my effort to a new direction.

Take care of yourselves, friends.

[cosmicbucky]

A chubby reader who's super self conscious of her belly and bust? Like she's strong and stuff, comes with the higher weight, but just....

Cant really wear anything unless it's sweats and a sweater, or a t-shirt. Almost never goes out.

And one day Bucky comes to the compound. Reader immediately gets a crush, and has major anxiety over it, like "leaving the room when he comes near" anxiety. Bucky thinks it's his fault, that he's done something wrong and talks to you about it.

He decides to talk to you about it, crying ensues because insecurities, and then the fluff.

Sorry this ask is so long, I'm kinda scrambled XP

hi, lovely! 💫

first of all, don't apologize for bringing this beautiful request into my world! i was beyond excited to have the chance to bring this idea to life, and i hope the direction i took with it does justice to what you had in mind!

second of all, i am so sorry this took me so long to put out, this request is so lovely and i really wanted to make it the best i could.

i hope you enjoy!

matches

pairing: bucky barnes x midsize!reader

word count: 3974

warnings: insecurities and self consciousness, mild body image issues, brief self depreciating thoughts, angst, mutual pining, fluff, swearing, allusions to mature themes, let me know if i missed anything!

please do not read this if you're not comfortable with any of the above topics. while they are not heavily focused on, they are the main theme of this fic

a/n: big thanks to @buckylattes for reading this and catching some of the dumb ass mistakes i made lmao

《《《《 ♡ 》》》》

Being part of the Rescue and Reconnaissance division of Stark Industries wasn't the most glamorous job, but you loved it. You got to work nearly hand in hand with field agents every day, formulating plans for raids, rescues, infiltrations, or general takedown missions to make sure all those involved worked as safely and efficiently as possible. 

You were the one they turned to when a new plan was needed; when they were at risk. There were a few agents who refused to listen to anyone other than you when it came to these times - specifically asking for you to help them through. 

Agent Barnes was one of these people, and though you could never voice it, he was your favourite to deal with. He was always kind and courteous, understanding in the fact that despite not being in the same rankings as him, you damn well knew what you were doing. And, well, it didn't hurt that he always found a moment to be a charming little flirt. 

You have no idea why he had such faith in you. Maybe it was because you always took what he suggested into consideration when calculating next steps. Maybe it was because your ideas were as crazy as his sometimes. Maybe it was simply because he liked the sound of your voice. 

You never knew. 

You never actually met him.

All your dealings with field agents were done from the safety of your control room. You never minded it, though. It was nice, in a way. You absolutely loved doing what you do, but you would never be able to handle being around field agents all the time. Not when they look the way they do, and you…. well, you're you. 

Your thighs touch when you walk, your belly shakes when you laugh, your arms jiggle when you move. You have to painstakingly pick out the right kinds of shirts, otherwise your chest will make it seem like you're three times as big as you really are. 

You were the chubby girl who always hid in the shadows, too afraid to let the world see how bright you truly shine - you were a flame ready to ignite, but no one around you ever offered you a match. 

You were used to it. You made peace with it a long time ago, finding solace in your own company instead of relying on other people to enjoy your time with. It still bothered you from time to time, and you let yourself have days where you wallowed in it, wishing things were different, wishing you looked different. Though, for the most part, it stopped bothering you so much the older you got. 

Until the day you finally met Bucky. 

It was a strange day, being sent to the compound. You've never been sent anywhere before, always planted in your seat while talking to field agents across the world. Yet here you were, being requested by Tony Stark himself. 

You must have spent hours trying to find the right outfit. One that showed off your curves without accentuating the extra pudge around your middle. One that complimented your chest without highlighting the size. One that showed off your ass without making it look massive. One that carefully hid your arms. One that you felt comfortable in. 

It felt like your heart was in your throat the whole time. The butterflies in your stomach turned into a full on frenzy, and you had to take deep breaths every few seconds to stay calm; and to not throw up. 

You barely heard it when Tony said he wanted you working under him. You could hardly process it when he said he created a job just for you. You didn't quite understand it when he told you there was space for you at the compound, and he wanted you here full time. 

All you could do was dumbly nod your head, trying to focus on what he was saying instead of the fact that Bucky Barnes was just outside the conference room. 

By the time the meeting was over, you felt lightheaded. You clutched the contract you were given against your chest and took a final deep breath before leaving the room, hoping to get by unnoticed. It's not like he even knew who you really were, right? 

A gentle calling of your name told you that you were very, very wrong. 

Your feet became rooted in place as you squeezed your eyes shut, focusing all you could on calming your nerves before turning around. And jesus christ, nothing could have prepared you for how beautiful this man actually was in person. 

"Hi," you breathed out, a tiny shy smile gracing your lips. 

"Hi," he said, unintentionally mimicking you. 

His eyes travelled over your face before taking their time roaming your body; you shifted uncomfortably and clutched the contract a little tighter as he stayed fixed on you. A smirk graced his lips, but it was gone before you could really focus on it. 

"It's, uh-... it's nice to finally meet you, Agent Barnes," you muttered sheepishly, hesitantly offering him your hand. 

"You can call me Bucky," he said, smiling warmly as he took your hand in his, sending fire throughout your whole body. "I'd like to say thank you for saving my ass as often as you do, but thank you doesn't seem like enough."

You chuckled, feeling your face flush under his gaze. "'Thank you' suffices just fine, Bucky. I've only been doing my job."

"Speaking of," he started, tilting his head a little as he eyed the contract you held. "You gonna take it?" he asked curiously, his eyes snapping back to yours. 

"What?" you asked, caught off guard by his question.

"The job," he said, gesturing between the contract in your hands and the conference room you just occupied. "You gonna say yes?" 

"How do you know about that?" you asked curiously.

"I know things," he said passively, shrugging his shoulders. "How 'bout I show you around? You can see the place before you decide anything."

You wanted to say no. You wanted to run away and retreat into yourself once more. Though something about the way he was looking at you made it hard to do so. 

So, you agreed. 

And that's how everything started. 

You took the job, moving into the compound a few days after that. You quickly made friends with the girls, and they became your support group; they would help you when it came to shopping for clothes or finding the right outfit for events. They offered to go for walks with you or do yoga - anything you felt like doing, really. You still felt inferior to them from time to time, but not because they made you feel that way; no one at the compound did. 

Only yourself. 

When it came to the boys, it was more or less the same thing. You felt comfortable around them, and you never minded close contact or them seeing you in tighter fitting clothes. 

Everyone was family, and it never felt awkward or uncomfortable around them. 

Except for when it came to Bucky. 

You still grew closer to him over the months of you living at the compound so far, but it hasn't been easy. It was a constant challenge, and it grew harder for you day after day.

When it came to you working alongside him on his missions, everything was great. Nothing with him changed, aside from him throwing out a few more flirty comments. And, since you still had the safety net of being behind comms, you threw some right back at him. 

Once the missions were over, though, it was hard to be around him. You wanted to be around him, but it was nearly impossible. Your feelings for him grew, and the stronger your feelings were, the more distant you became. 

You were careful to only wear sweaters or loose tees paired with sweatpants around him, making sure he would never catch sight of the extra weight you carried around. You quit eating around him; it's not like you had bad eating habits, but you couldn't shake the panic that he would somehow be disgusted, that he would think the reason you're so chubby was because of your diet. You stopped sitting near him during movie nights, and you never hugged him. No matter how much you itched to wrap your arms around him when he came home safe from missions, you couldn't risk him feeling the rolls your body carried, or how soft and pudgy you were. 

It was driving Bucky crazy.

From the minute he finally set his eyes on you, he couldn't get you out of his head. He was beyond thrilled when you agreed to Stark's offer, and he couldn't wait to take the opportunity to get to know you - which was a massive step for him. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling he did something to upset you. 

He grew more confused every day. When it came to conversing over the comms during missions, you two were like a well oiled machine; giggles and flirting and jokes of previous missions. No one would ever know something was amiss. 

Yet when everyone would return home, it was like a switch was flipped. You greeted everyone with hugs and smiles and affection, and Bucky always waited patiently for his turn: but it never came. Instead, you turned to him with an awkward smile and shining eyes and gave him the traditional "welcome home, soldier" that, despite everything, always pulled a smile from his lips. 

He racked his brain every night trying to figure out if he did something, if he said something, but he could never come up with anything. He could never find a reason for the way you would some days leave the room as soon as he entered, for why you always hid away from him when he would catch you off guard in workout clothes or formal attire. He could never come up with an explanation and it was eating him alive. 

The final straw came for him on the night of Pepper’s birthday party. 

He didn’t want to go, he never wanted to go to these things, but ever since you came around he found himself more willing to at least make an appearance; if only to see you. However, he wasn’t even positive if you were going to show up this time, given the way you’ve been so distant lately - and that made him not want to go at all. So he was biding his time, sitting in the kitchen and emptying a bottle of whiskey, trying to not make it obvious that he was waiting to see if you’d wander out of your room before he slipped away to the party.

You stood in front of your mirror for what felt like hours, never before feeling more diffident as you assessed your reflection. You’ve been to some of Tony’s parties before, but this was for Pepper - it was the most grandiose one you’ve attended to date. You weren’t left much choice but to dress your fanciest, and you felt so unfamiliar with your own body as your hands trailed down the fabric of your dress. It was form fitting, hugging every curve you had and accentuating your figure in a way you weren’t used to seeing. The straps were small and the cut was low, it travelled midcalf and had a small slit up the side, showing way more of your leg than you wanted. You had a burning desire to change, but Nat insisted you looked incredible, and Wanda already applied a touch of makeup to match the dress - not to mention you were already running late as it was. 

With one last heavy sigh, you steeled yourself before slipping on your heels and marching out of your room. You thought of anything and everything you could as you marched down the hall, doing your best to pay no mind to the way you felt the fabric clinging to your body with every move you made. God, you really should have put on shapewear. 

Bucky heard you before he saw you, your footfalls echoing through the floor in the same pattern he came to memorize in the months you’ve been here. He took a deep breath, prepared for the fact that you would most likely brush him off once more. He was not prepared, though, for the sight of you as you rounded the corner. 

You were not prepared to see him sitting there, clad in a pressed suit, or for him to quite literally choke on the drink he was nursing as he took in your presence. 

“Jesus, Bucky. Are you alright?” you inquired, conflicted between staying where you stood and approaching him. 

A dismissive wave of his hand had you staying in place, your arms wrapping around your middle as you began to feel exposed to him. 

“I’m fine, I’m good,” he coughed out, refilling his glass as if nothing happened. 

You stood there quietly, completely unsure of what to do next. The silence was becoming louder and louder but you didn’t want to draw his attention to you. Not when you were looking like this. Not when he’d be able to see every curve and divot of your body, the protrusion of your stomach, the ample raise of your chest. You were really starting to regret not changing. 

“Are you gonna stand there and stare all night or head to the party?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the glass before him. His tone was playful, but his voice had a rasp to it that sent a shiver down your spine. 

“Oh, uh - sorry,” you muttered, clearing your throat as you slowly advanced in his direction. “Are, um-… are you gonna join the party?” 

He huffed a small laugh, his eyes finally raising to meet yours only to find that you were looking almost everywhere but at him, effectively wiping the small smile from his face. 

“I’m not so sure,” he said lowly, downing the contents of his glass as he kept his eyes on you. 

You hummed, looking down at your hands before chancing a glance at him; his gaze on you so intense that you immediately looked away again. 

“Well, I- I hope to see you there,” you said sincerely, wringing your fingers together. “You look really nice, Buck” you added quietly, looking up at him just long enough to flash him a warm smile before continuing through the kitchen. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he called after you, the hurt in his voice impossible to miss. 

“What?” you asked in confusion, turning to glance in his direction. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he repeated, leaning back in his chair. “Because ever since you moved in here, it’s like you can’t stand the sight of me.” 

You couldn’t help the nervous chuckle that left you, shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s not true.” 

“No?” he asked, his tone taking on a new edge. “Are you sure? ‘Cause you can’t even fucking look at me right now. You practically run from me when I enter the same room, you do everything you can to avoid me, and let’s not forget the fact that I’m the only one around here who you don’t hug after getting back from missions.”

“Bucky-” you tried to explain, but the lump forming in your throat stopped you short. 

“I just wanna know what I did,” he carried on, voice softer this time. “I don’t know if you’re angry with me or- or if you’re scared of me-” 

“I am not scared of you,” you interrupted, finally meeting his gaze. “Please don’t think that.”

“What else am I supposed to think?” he asked quietly. “Everything is fine when I’m out on the field, we- I get along with you better than anyone. But then I come home, and it’s not the same.”

“It’s not-... it’s not like that, Bucky,” you whispered sadly, unintentionally looking away from him again. 

“Yeah, if you say so,” he said curtly, sighing in defeat as he filled his glass again. “Just enjoy the party, okay?”

“You’re not coming?” you asked, unable to keep the disappointment from your voice. 

“Well, you’re just gonna avoid me anyway. Might as well make it easier for you and stay here,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the twirling glass in his hands. 

“I don’t want you to think like that,” you admitted softly. “I- I don’t mean to do the things I do.”

“Then why do they happen?” he inquired, his eyes meeting yours and displaying a painful mix of hurt and confusion. 

“Because,” you started, feeling your bottom lip quiver. “I mean, look at me, Buck,” you finished, as if that was explanation enough. 

“Believe me, I’m looking,” he said gently. “And you look-... well, I wanna say you look beautiful, but that implies you don’t always look beautiful, so, I- I don’t know what I’m supposed to say,” he added, his voice so low he may as well have been speaking to himself, but you heard every word he muttered. 

“...What?” you breathed out, staring over at him. 

“What?” he questioned, glancing up to catch your eye.

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat but it just kept on growing, forcing you to choke on your words. 

“Hey, wait, don’t-... okay, now I really said something wrong, right?” he asked quickly, starting to panic as he watched your eyes fill with tears. 

Shaking your head vehemently, you delicately wiped your eyes, hoping not to smudge the work that Wanda did for you. “No, you- I just didn’t expect you to say that. I-... I'm not used to hearing that." 

"You're not?" he asked, genuinely surprised. 

You almost laughed, and you probably would have if it wasn't such an embarrassing thing to admit. "No. I'm… guys don't really call girls who look like me beautiful." 

He fell silent for a minute, eyeing you carefully before shifting in his seat, resting his arms on the table.

"You know, I've been alive for a pretty long time now," he said conversationally, as if you weren't on the cusp of a breakdown. "And I've also been quite literally around the whole world in that time. Some of it I remember, some of it… not so much. But even so, do you know what the one thing I can say with complete certainty is?" 

You waited for him to go on for a moment before realizing he was actually looking for an answer. "No, what?" you manage to croak out. 

He smiled softly, relaxing in his seat again. "I have, quite literally, never met anyone as beautiful as you. And I mean in both appearance and personality." 

"But I- I'm not… I don't have the kind of body like the other women around here," you murmured, casting your gaze downwards as if you were ashamed of your words. 

"So?" he asked incredulously. "Do you seriously think that you're automatically not beautiful just because you aren't the same size as them?" 

"No, it- you can't- I'm not-" you tried to argue, but all you could get out were a few utterances before you had to choke back a sob, completely lost on how to express yourself. 

"Is this why you've been avoiding me? Have I done something to make you uncomfortable?" he asked anxiously, fighting the urge to approach you. 

"Yes. I mean no, I-" you cut yourself off with a sigh, taking a moment to consider your answer. "I've been too embarrassed to be around you. I-... I was afraid you'd be repulsed by me and that I'd lose you." 

"Repulsed by you? A woman who puts fucking goddesses to shame?" he asked in disbelief. "Did me choking on my drink earlier not prove how taken by you I am?" 

"Is that what that was?" you wondered, letting out a watery laugh. 

"Yeah, that's what that was," he confirmed with a soft chuckle. "A guy does a real life spit take when he sees the girl of his dreams looking like the focus of a goddamn renaissance painting and she doesn't even realize it," he mumbled in exasperation, yet his eyes carried a playful sparkle. 

"The girl of your dreams?" you repeated in shock, your voice a nervous whisper. 

"Was that too cliché?" he questioned, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

"Maybe a little," you said playfully, sniffling quietly. 

"I know how it feels, you know," he said softly. "To feel uncomfortable in your own body. But if you'd let me, I'll spend every day proving to you that I see you as nothing short of perfect." 

You could only nod, giving him a weak smile as you fought back a wave of tears. "Yeah, I-... I could do that, too," you agreed quietly. 

He grinned softly, greedily taking in your appearance once more before tearing his eyes away. "Come on," he urged, downing his drink before standing up. "You owe me about seven dances." 

"Where does that number come from?" you asked with a laugh, watching as he approached you. 

"For how many parties you snubbed me at so far," he replied casually, stopping as he stood before you. 

"I never snubbed you," you grumbled, peering up at him. 

"Sure you didn't," he teased, carefully wiping the tears from your face. 

"Do I still look okay?" you asked nervously, fidgiting slightly under his touch. 

"Gorgeous as ever," he replied sincerely. 

You couldn't help but grin, laughing a little anxiously. "Okay. Come on, or else we won't have enough time for all those dances." 

Bucky laughed happily, taking your hand and rushing to join the party, having you giggling in his wake as you did your best to keep up. 

You let him whisk you away for the rest of the night, leading you through all the dances you owed him; and a few more, for good measure, as Bucky put it. 

He stayed true to his word, and there wasn't a second that you spent with him where you didn't feel like the most ravishing woman to walk the earth.

Especially when he took his precious time in the dark of the night to memorize and worship every inch of your body over and over again.

So as you sat here now, watching from across the room as he danced with the crowd, you couldn't help but feel foolish. Foolish for letting your thoughts take away the extra time you could have had with him, foolish for ever thinking this incredible man would ever judge you for something so trivial. Foolish, foolish, foolish. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" you heard from beside you, ripping you from your reverie.  

You turned your head, grinning as you saw the very man himself had taken up the seat to your left. "What, get tired of dancing already, old man?" 

He gasped, feigning offense as he took in your words. "I'd watch who you're calling old, sweetheart," he warned playfully. 

"I'd watch who you're calling sweetheart. I happen to be a married woman now, you know," you replied jovially.

"Married, huh? Should've known I didn't stand a chance," he lamented, shaking his head. "How about a pity dance?" he suggested with a grin, holding his hand out to you. 

You giggled softly, taking his hand with a grin of your own. "Lead the way, Mr. Barnes." 

"Anything for you, Mrs. Barnes," he replied with a wink, leading you to the dance floor. 

And just like he did three years ago, he whisked you away and led you through a whole seven dances; and a few more, for good measure. 

You were a flame, finally ignited, and Bucky was your match.

[alicechess]

Art x reader part 2

Note: This hasn't been proof read, so my bad if it's not the greatest I smashed this out in like 4 hours. So not the highest quality chapter. I might fix this up at one point, heavy maybe.

@ch1hvro

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You felt ill after the shift, it could be explained, it absolutely could be, right? Just a coincidence, a man dressing up to be a dick, then point at the plastic ring on your hand because he thought it was amusing, and joked that it was him who gave it. Yeah, just a joke, coincidence. You settled on it being a coincidence. 

As soon as you got home, you took the ring of and but it on your bedside table, you didn't want to wear it, you were meant to Halloween night, but it completely slipped your mind. 

However, that night, you heard on the news he somehow escaped the morgue today, in the morning. The news reporters stated the injuries, and allegedly a few people who work in the medical field said how unlikely it would've been for him to survive. They then stated that the poor mortician was brutally murdered too from him, because of course he had to do it. Does that mean it is possible he came to your work today? If that was him, why? He didn't have any blood, or any visible injuries at least. He moved perfectly fine. 

You shook your head, there was no point in thinking about it. If you saw him again, then it absolutely wasn't a coincidence, as there would be no way to justify it. You then turned the TV off, then went to bed. The thoughts of him stuck in your mind as you laid there, the whole day repeating over in your head. How his attention was stuck on you, why that specific Cafe, and although again, the ring may just be him being a dick and not knowing. It still bothered you, all of that happening within the span of an hour. Eventually you fell asleep, your dreams, of course, had him there too. 

The next morning you awoke in a cold sweat, your heart racing rapidly. Once you glanced around and noticed you were in your room, you felt relief.

Just a dream

Maybe you needed to ignore the news, take a break from social media for a few days or even a week. You had no doubt some people would be talking about stuff, but you just had to hope you wouldn't overhear anything. Maybe it'd be good to take a day off, though you knew your boss would be pissed and so as your co-workers. You've barely taken days off the whole year, maybe 3 at most. 

You decided to send a message to your boss, explaining that you have some family stuff going on, and if you could take the day off tomorrow. 

Hopefully he'd be fine with it.

You started getting ready, after showering

--------

You walked into the door of the Café, the ringing bell irritated your ears. You walked into the back, you had to do a bunch of dishes from last night since one of the other workers had to leave early. Your co-worker spotted then greeted you, "Hey, you look like shit."

You rolled your eyes, "Wow, what a nice way to say good morning Charlie." 

They gave you a cocky smile, "I know I know, I'm wonderful aren't I?"

That damn smile was contagious, "Aww, and I've got you smiling too."

A small chuckle left you, "Yeah yeah, anyway, how longs your shift today? Anyone else in?"

"Uhh, till about 4. I have another job on the side to earn extra. And no, Laurie left about 10 minute ago, she had to leave early as she had an appointment."

"Ew, that's gotta be painful, and god damn it, it would've been nice having a third for today.

"It's painful, but moneys money, world can't go on without it." They sighed, "And I'm trying to save for a new car, the shitbox out there ain't gonna last much longer." They said, taking the eggs out the frypan. "Anyway, can we talk more during our break? Can't have customers complaining."

"Yeah sure, that'd be great actually." They then walked out with the plate of food. 

Your morning was a lot easier to deal with after that interaction, although you hated to admit it, they were annoying at times but you loved them. They were a great friend, and made working a lot easier to tolerate.

You filled the sink and placed the dishes in there, cleaning the least dirty to the most. More and more dishes came, but you tried your best to stay ahead. The dishwasher was going to take forever and only could do a small amount at a time, so this is unfortunately a job that had to be done.

After about an hour, you were close to being finished, and so was the dishwasher. After, you put the dishes away, then went up to your Charlie to check if they needed help with anything.

"To be honest, not really, business is slower than normal, which is a fucking relief." They whispered, so none of the customers could hear. 

"Nice, is Chloe gonna be here soon? It would be nice if she could cover the register, and we can chill in the back."

They shrugged, "Not sure, she's meant to be here at some point today but that's all I know."

You groaned, "Alright, since business is slow should I just sweep and mop now?" 

You heard that cursed bell ring, and you heard a honk. You instantly turned around, wondering what that noise was. 

"What the fuck..." Charlie muttered under their breath.

Your eyes widened, bile rose up in your throat. You stood still for a few moments as you locked eyes with that fucker, then you sprinted towards the staff toilet. You leaned over, the breakfast you ate not longer ago instantly came up. Your throat burned as acid tore at your throat. You clenched the toilet bowl as it kept going. You body shook rapidly from fear and shock.

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

Why is he here, it was meant to be a fucking coincidence. Do I have a murderer stalking me?

You weren't sure what to do, but after about a minute you heard your Charlie running over.

"Hey, hey!" They said crouching down, rubbing your back. "What the hell was that? Are you okay?"

You nodded, "Yeah...." You croakily mumbled, your legs wobbling as you slowly stood up.

"Stay there if you need to, I can handle the front for a bit." 

You shook your head, "I'll be fine, it's fine. Just give me a minute and I'll clean up."

"Look Chloe should be here soon, when she gets here I'll explain you were sick so you had to leave. Got it?"

You rolled your eyes, "I'll be okay, I just got nauseous.-"

"No, you're heading home when she gets here."

You wanted to argue, but you knew it was probably a good idea. You didn't want to see... it again. 

"Fine, can I help just till she gets here?"

"Yeah sure, just don't overwork yourself and let me know if you feel ill again."

You nodded, moving towards the sink to splash water on your face. "Alright, I'm gonna head back, don't rush yourself I can handle it." They patted your back again, then walked off.

You looked down at your shirt, and thankfully there was no vomit. So, you went back to helping Charlie. As soon as you were in the doorway you spotted him, sitting down. "Hey, is it okay if you could pass this to the customer in the clown suit real quick? I just need to prepare another order."

You nodded, trying to not show your fear to them. "Yeah, of course!"

While you walked over, you noticed his eyes were on you. You looked at the floor, knowing it was rude but you were so afraid. You put the pancakes down in front of the clown. "Here's your order... sir." You mumbled, giving a forced smile. As you starting walking away, he beeped the horn. 

"Did you need something?" 

He nodded, gesturing you to come closer.

He looked at your hand, a frown forming on his face. But not a second later is was replaced with that eerie smile. He stared at you as he purposely knocked the plate down onto the floor. It shattered onto the ground. He covered his mouth, giving an exaggerated 'Oops' face. A few customers looked over giving a confused and concerned expression.

Your face turned into a thin line, what the fuck "I'm sorry sir, I'll be back." You quickly muttered, walking to Charlie, "Hey, look I can't do this right now, can you please talk to the clown? I'll do whatever you were doing before. I'm just really uncomfortable around him."

They nodded, noticing you were shaken up. "Yeah that's fine, but what's going on? You look horrified, did something happen?"

You shook your head, "It's nothing, just can you help him?"

"Okay, I'll do that now, you just need to make a strawberry milkshake for table 5 while I deal with the clown."

"Easy." You immediately started to work on it, you scooped the ice-cream, poured the milk and strawberry-flavoured syrup and then blended it. You occasionally heard words from your Charlie while they were trying to communicate with the clown. But of course it went nowhere. As you were pouring the milkshake into a plastic cup, they came up to you. "I have no idea what he wants, he's not responding at all to me. I clean up the mess, but I don't know what else to do. Was he at least responding to you?"

"Yeah, I guess, but I really, really don't want to talk to him. He's... scaring me." You glanced at the floor, feeling embarrassed. 

"It's okay, I'll figure something out. Other customers are starting to feel uncomfortable as well. Fuck, Chloe needs to get here soon."

"Yeah, hopefully, should I contact the boss?" 

They nodded, "Can you contact Chloe first? We need her here soon."

"I'll do that now, I'll try and make it quick." You hurried out to the back again, pulling out your phone. You dialled her number, but it immediately when to voice mail. "What the fuck..." You murmured, trying again. And again. You groaned, then decided to send her a quick message.

Y/n: Hey, are you still coming into work today? 

You hoped she'd read it soon, then you dialled your bosses number. Thankfully, you heard her voice on the other end. 

"Hello?"

"Hey, I heard from Charlie that Chloe would be coming in today at some point. What time would she be here? She isn't picking up any of my calls. "

You heard a sigh on the other end, "Give me a moment."

After 15 seconds of rustling sounds, she answered. "Alright, it says she'd be on around 2pm till 8pm. Is she not there?"

"No, she's not. It's 2:30."

You heard another sigh from your boss, "I'll try and contact her, that's all I can do. Is that all you needed?"

"No, I was wondering what to do about a customer. One of them is making me and Charlie uncomfortable. He keeps.... just doing stuff."

"If you want advice I need more details." 

You took a deep breath in, "For one he's in a clown outfit, which in itself isn't bad but it's just how he's acting doing it too. If that makes sense, and he purposely broke one of our plates, and acted like it was all funny. He then wouldn't talk to Charlie, only me. It's just such bizarre behaviour."

"Normally threatening them with the police will cause them to stop, but if he continues call the non-emergency line for the police. That's it."

"Alright, thank you."

"Bye." She said, the line ending.

You walked back to the register to talk to your Charlie. "Chloe was meant to be here at 2. What the fuck do we do? She isn't picking up my calls, she's not answering my messages and the boss just told us to threaten the clown with the police but fuck that I'm not comfortable with it I don't know him and he's scaring-"

"Calm down, you're gonna be okay. This isn't a big deal you'll be fine we can figure this out. I'll talk to him."

You glanced over your shoulder to look at the clown. He was sitting there, his chin resting on his hands, giving you a wink. 

"God fucking damn it." Your muttered under your breath, he waved at you, then gesturing for him to come over again. "He wants me to go over again, what do I do? What the fuck do I do?"

Charlie bit their bottom lip, "I can go over if you like and try again, but I doubt he'll listen."

"Fuck, fine, I'll fucking doing it." You whisper-yelled, immediately going over towards the clown. You noticed most of the customers had left. How had no one called the police yet? Maybe they thought it was someone trying to be funny? 

"Hello sir, is there anything I can help you with?"

The clown told you to stop, raising his pointer-finger. He then went through the garbage bag next to him. You heard the sounds of metal hitting metal, making you feeling almost as sick as before. He pulled out an envelope. You stared at it for a moment, noticing brown splotches over it. It looked like dried blood. You also noticed how there was a bump inside. You were about to place it down, but he gestured for you to open it.

You stared with widened eyes, really not wanting to. "I'm sorry sir... I-"

The clown gestured one more time, a deep frown on his face. You were afraid, so begrudgingly, you open it. And inside was a chunk of blonde hair, with a small amount of dyed-blue strands. You pulled it out and saw a piece of someone's scalp was attached. The blonde hair looked identical to Chloe's. You placed it back down onto the table, stepping back. 

"Why.... what did she do to you?"

You knew what he did. It was obvious. But all you wanted to know is why. Yeah she could be bitchy at times, but she never had bad intentions. Not anything worthy of her fucking dying.

The Clown silently giggled, slapping his knee like it was the funniest joke in the world. He pointed at you, mimicking a horrified look and then continued laughing. 

"Oh fuck this." You muttered, Charlie looked over and saw the terrified look on your face. "Charlie we need to get the fuck out now!" You yelled, grabbing their arm, dragging them into the kitchen. To get out through the front, you would've had to walk past him again, and that was not something that you wanted. 

You shoved them inside and slammed the door shut, locking it. "Grab a knife Charlie." They didn't ask questions, just grabbing it off the bench. The clown was walking over towards the counter, where you'd pass food through to the person at the register. He stood there smiling. 

"Nope, don't look just fucking get out." You urgently said to Charlie, grabbing their arm and leading them to the back door. You unlocked it ran out with them. You rummaged through your pockets and grabbed your keys, your hands shaking as you tried to open the car door. 

"Y/n your tires have been fucking slashed!" 

"Oh for fuck sake!" You yelled, this time they dragged you. You dropped your keys while they pulled you, "My keys!"

"It doesn't matter Y/n! There's a fucking psycho chasing us." 

You followed them, running to the nearest store. You looked behind, noticing the clown was behind, with that fucking garbage bag thrown on it's shoulder. 

As Charlie ran into the store, they yelled to call the police. They didn't care about scaring the workers, they just needed to make sure the both of you were safe. The woman at the register looked confused. They ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind the both of you. They fumbled with their phone, dialling the emergency number. 

"What's your emergency?"

"There's a fucking psycho chasing after us! He's trying to fucking kill us!" They yelled, sounding hysterical. 

"Okay, calm down. Are you safe right now?"

"I think so, we've locked ourselves in a random stores bathroom. We don't know where he is right now."

"Okay, what did he look like?"

"He-he was wearing a black and white clown outfit, like the one from the news!"

"Alright...." The operator said, sounding like they thought it was a prank call, but they still continued.

"What store are you in right now?" 

Charlie turned to you, "Do you know where we ran to?"

You shook your head, "I-I wasn't paying attention, I'm sorry!"

"It's fine." Charlie murmured, "We don't know, but can you guys track the phone?"

The woman sighed, "Yes we can, but if this is a prank call you will be in serious trouble."

"We aren't fucking lying, my fucking car tires were slashed and this fucker gave me an envelope with co-workers scalp in it! Get the damn police here right now or we could get brutally murdered!" You screamed at the operator.

"Please calm down, the police are on their way." The operator said, "Please stay on the line, are you hearing anything outside of the bathroom?"

Charlie spoke up, "No, it's oddly quiet out there, I... I don't know where he is. I don't know if he followed us in or not. We didn't look around."

The only thing you could hear was cars driving by, it was otherwise painfully silent.

"Fuck what happened to Chloe, oh god I hope she's okay. Please Chloe be okay." You whimpered, dropping to the ground. "Fuck I'm sorry Chloe, I'm so sorry." Tears welled up in your eyes, then started streaming down your face.

Charlie knelt down, placing their phone on the tiled floor, "Hey, it's okay, Chloe might still be out there. Probably not in the best condition but still maybe out there." They gently hugged you.

You sniffled, "What if that psycho grabbed my keys, I'm not even going to be safe in my own fucking home." You sobbed, "I didn't even do anything to him!" 

"I know, some people are just messed up, but you'll be okay, I'll make sure of it. No ones going to hurt you." 

Eventually, you heard the police sirens and them shouting. After a few moments they knocked on the bathroom door. You immediately unlocked it, running out. "Did you find him?" You asked, your eyes showing the hope in this being simple, like maybe he was waiting outside or something stupid. But of course, reality didn't work that way. 

"The only people we found were the workers here, I'm sorry." One of the officers said, "Do you have any injuries?"

You and Charlie shook your head.

"Alright, we're going to need to take you in for questioning."

--------

[quirkwizard]

Final Chapter: A Look at the Ending of MHA

With the manga of My Hero Academia finally coming to a close, I thought I'd give my opinions about how the series ended. I will be covering everything from Chapter 424 to Chapter 430. This is going to mix my thoughts on the ending, a proposed rewrite, and a lot of responses to people's criticism towards it. Because I'm going to be real with you all: the past two months have been the most frustrating and exhausting experience I've had with this fan base. 

I have been writing this since the finale ended. In that time, I've been listening and taking in all the discourse of fans in order to make a more informed opinion. It's been miserable trying to read through all the thoughts people had about the finale. The sheer amount of opinions that were based off misinformation or misreadings of the series has been staggering. So, if I sound more exhausted or if the writing comes across as more scattershot then when I normally do something like that, that's the reason. And, as always, if you have anything you want to discuss, whether it be about the post or the ending, feel free to ask about it.

Review

Miscellaneous Notes:

So there are some bits of the story I wanted to talk about, but didn't feel the need to include full on diatribes about.

-Oh hey, Koichi from Vigilantes is here, that's so- and he's gone.

-Even when Izuku is his peer, Aizawa still finds time to be a jerk to his students.

-Mirio is the number one hero. Makes sense, but it does feel out of nowhere with how little Mirio has been relevant up until now.

-How on Earth is Miriko still working, let alone as a hero? She's down three limbs and in arguably worse shape then Enji.

-Man, they are really taking Kai to task these past few arcs, aren't they? I mean, I get why, but jeez. It's honestly sad to see what's been done with his character.

-I like how All Might's light returned to his eyes. It's a good way to show him getting his spirit back after all this time and reigniting hope in himself..

-So if Eri's horn is back, does that mean her power is back? Kind of wish we had something saying about why she isn't healing people. I get if it's her choice or the recipients choice not to do so, but there needs to be something for that.

Hospital Visit

This works as little cool down from the big battle, especially since we really needed to see some of the immediate consequences on the main characters. I actually like a lot of the stuff with Bakugou. After all this, he finally understands Izuku, shown by them getting similar injuries, and lets himself be emotionally vulnerable about wanting the two to be rivals. And we finally got some thoughts on part of Izuku here, like his regret about seemingly failing to save Tomura and how he doesn't feel hurt about losing out on "One For All". How he's glad that he even got this chance in the first place. I do feel the need to mention All Might saying that Izuku saved the "soul" of Tomura. I think a lot of people missed or ignored that line. It's important to Tomura's death, but I'll get more into that later.

Speaking of consequences, I don't mind Izuku losing out on "One For All". In the grander scheme of things, "One For All" doesn't need to be a thing anymore. With "All For One" gone, it no longer has a purpose to exist. And as we've all seen with All Might, someone holding that much power over he world is a problem, regardless of whether it's used for good or evil. Having it gone helps even the playing field and will push for the idea that people should rely on themselves and each other instead of focusing all on a single symbol. What's more, I think Izuku having to sacrifice it and lose it gives the ending a lot more weight. Because Izuku sacrificed the thing that made him a hero in order to stop Shigaraki. To me, that's one of the most defining aspects of a hero: the willingness to sacrifice something important to themselves to help others.

UA Stuff

All of the things happening at UA are fine.  I do like that Aoyama chose to leave 1-A of his own volition instead of being forced out. Plus, now Shinso is in the Hero Course. Good for him. I've never been all that invested in Shino's story, but this is a good way to get him into Class 1-A without making an exception or replacing any of the core cast members. I liked Mirio's graduation speech. I think it works with his arc of trying to inspire other people and trying to honor Sir Nighteye's memory. And they got to have their own little party. That's nice.

Honestly, I find myself having very little to say about all of this, at least the parts within the school itself. I'm all for a calm after the storm to talk about what happened and to build up characters. I'm honestly glad we're back at the school to help ground things after that massive battle. But I think there may have been too much time spent on this. It just feels a little longer than what's needed. Like the bits with the cotton girl feel like they weren't needed for the story and could have been better used setting up or wrapping up something else.

Todoroki Family Prison Visit

The Todoroki family drama has always been one of the stronger plotlines, especially in the latter half of the series. And I believe that it ended on a pretty strong note. It's to the point where I struggle to really say much about the resolution of it.  I do like how Shoto asks for something as basic as his favorite food. I also like how Dabi let go of his hatred towards Shoto, who was as much of a victim as he was in all of this, but still held on to it for Endeavor. Because in spite of what a lot of fans seem to think, the manga does take Enji to task and isn't saying he should be forgiven.

Dabi being in this condition is pretty awful, but I concede that it was necessary for him to have a resolution with the other Todorokis. I'll get to my thoughts on the condition of the villains later in the post. So for now I'll just say the metal coffin looks equal parts cool and horrific. I think it's too long at least in the wrong places. I understand that this is an important part of the story. But when it takes up so much of the chapter it's in, I feel like at least something should have been given to the other family members. They aren't the main players of the subplot, but they still could have used some resolution.

Afterburn

Now, there are those who say Enji got off too easy. Uh, no, he didn't. The man lost everything he strived for in the number one position, something that turned out to be totally hollow, and is left severely injured after the battle, due in large part to Dabi. Now the only thing that would bring his life purpose, his family, is all torn apart by his own actions. Now he's resigned himself to seeing his dying son, who hates him with every burnt fiber of his being, every day until Dabi dies. Enji's punishment is to live on, knowing what he did and failing to ever put his family back together. That's not a happy ending, that's a sentencing.

Which is something I do find frustrating about the end of their arc. While we get solid conclusions with Natsuo and Dabi, how Shoto, Fuyumi, and especially Rei feel about all this and their relationship with Enji is ambiguous at best. At least with Shoto and Fuymui, we had some idea of where they stood with their father before now, but Rei is still not clear. I'm not sure about the implications with Rei and whether she's still with Enji. I choose to think that she isn't just trying to help him out in the few panels we see them together, but it's not exactly clear. Which certainly does leave the door open for some... less than favorable interpretations.

Commissioner Hawks

I'm not sure how to feel about Keigo's conclusion. On the one hand, I don't mind where he ended up as the head of the Hero Commission. It's still a way for him to help heroes to make their lives easier without getting involved as a hero. And if there is anyone that can clean up the Hero Commission, it's the guy that's worked under them his entire life. On the other hand though, it does kind of feel like he did got off scott free for a lot of the stuff he did while under the Hero Commission, namely killing Twice. It never feels like Hawks personally was taken to task for his part in all of this. So now we have a murderer as the head of the Hero Commission. 

It doesn't matter if he was under orders to do it or not, nor if there were extreme circumstances that pushed him to such actions. The pragmatic side of me does see the reasoning of that, but the story enforces that what Hawks did is a bad thing and does so constantly. Nothing about the manga takes Hawks to task for what he did or makes it feel like he's been punished for that. He may have lost his Quirk, but we don't really know how he feels about that. Which is weird considering how much of his life came from having that Quirk. Unless his comment about not being ashamed of his "filthy wings" as long as he got to help Tokoyami? Maybe it will make more sense on another read.

Spinner and Izuku

I feel like this scene is pretty underrated. Heck, it may even cemented Spinner as one of my favorite villains. To me, it really goes to show the tragedy at the core of Spinner's character. That, for all of his desire to change things or help out his friends, he was too weak to see any change made for himself. So he attached himself to idols like Stain or Tomura. He was always manipulated or pulled by something else. Whether it be the radicalization of Stain or the machinations of All For One, his hopes were used against him, his mindless actions given meaning by peons. All it did was lose him everything. He was, ultimately, a kid who was in over his head and was turned into a monster because of it. The monster everyone saw him as.

And while I've heard some people complain about Tomura only having a message for Spinner, I think that's more about the relationship Tomura had with the rest of the League. They were aligned together for a mutual goal and had some care for one another, but I don't think they ever understood or were close to one another. Spinner is the only one Tomura had any kind of real closeness. That's the whole point of the gamer line, as silly as it was. So, while to the rest of the League, he was Shigaraki, the force of destruction and change, to Spinner, he was Tomura, a friend who he wanted to fight for. My only issue, again, is some unfortunate openness with the ending. Spinner writing a book to spite the heroes is fine, but it leaves this unfortunate implication that this book will be used to radicalize more people. I don't think that is the intention, but again, it's not very clear.

Everyone Do Your Share

I was originally frustrated by how much of the final chapters spent on the cleaning up of things, especially since there were so few chapters left. However, looking back, I do feel it's pretty important to reinforce the idea of everyone trying to help in their own way, no matter how big or small it may be. And in doing so, show the changes on every level possible. It's there to show how things are changing by how people act and see heroes. We've got the civilians doing their part to help the heroes, and we've got the next generation changing their perspective on heroism. All thanks to Class 1-A and their efforts. It's just a nice and efficient way to show things changing from a broader perspective.

Which leads me to the stitch mouth kid. I saw people begging that this kid would be the new Tomura and show that society is still bad and broken. As if something like that wouldn't undermine the entire point of the ending. The whole point is that anyone can be a hero in any way, as long as you are willing to reach out and help others. And people who see a problem can and should do something to help people. They should help when they have the chance before it is too late. So having the old woman reach out to help another lost child is a nice way to tie up that point. And the whole point of all this is that the heroes, especially Izuku, don't need to do everything themselves. 

The More Things Change

Many people were upset of the idea of aspects like hero rankings and the Hero Commission not being abolished by the time the series ended. I disagree. I never thought that the rankings themselves were bad or wrong, nor did I think the story ever shows that the rankings are bad. That only seemed to be an issue with Enji and that had a lot of personal issues behind it. Every other hero seemed to be perfectly content to do hero work regardless of the rankings. Now, the Hero Commission, I can understand more. It's shown to be morally gray with its power. However, I don't think the existence of this kind of system is inherently wrong. Having oversight to heroes isn't a bad idea. It's just that the usage of it use to a lot of problems. And most of those people that propagated it are dead and gone.

Further still, there are people that say nothing has changed in the setting. That, since these systems are still in place, it's always going to be like this. Again, I disagree. Because of the massive devastation wrought by Tomura, it gave Japan a fresh start with the current generation. This gives the country the chance to overhaul those systems, even if they are still around. At the end of the day, systems are made up of and by people. The story makes it clear many times how important it is to win the crowd over. And if you win the hearts and minds of the people, it could go on to propagate massive change to the system. If enough people want to change and push for it, things will change. Saying that "things didn't change because systems can't be changed" is such a horrifically pessimistic take on the ending.

The Death of Villains

I've mentioned it before, and I'll say it again: I don't mind Toga dying. By extension, I don't mind the villains dying either. While it may seem tragic and pointless for her to die, I do think that is kind of that point. And no, I don't think this means that she "couldn't be saved". I think it's more of a tragedy. She was the one that people could have been saved before, but it was far too late to help her given how far she had gone. And her dying isn't a failing of that. Because Toga's ultimate goal was to live and die on her own terms. Specifically, being able to express herself and her "love". And to a lesser degree, to have someone try to understand her. I think her dying to save Uraraka is a good end to her character. By extension, that's how I feel about a lot of the villains' deaths in this. They got what they wanted, tragically died in order to see it through to the end. At least there's some peace for them, in that respect.

There's also a matter of "saving". I think a lot of fans took this too literally. To me, "saving" was more about reaching out and trying to understand villains rather than simply fighting them. "Saving" was never going to be the same as "redeeming". Because let's be real, there is no redeeming these people. Not because they can't be redeemed, it's because they don't want to be redeemed, and I think it'd betray their characters to do so. They are unapologetically bad and have hurt a lot of people. Every member of the League is complicit in the deaths of thousands and throwing an entire country into chaos. They aren't wrong for fighting the system, they're wrong for killing countless people to do so. And I have to ask what the other options are? You either have them be forgiven and turn good, which would be insane given the crimes they committed and their characters, or have them locked up forever, which is a fate worse than death. At least in death they can have some form of peace by escaping the consequences of their actions and all the suffering they went through.

Izuku x Uraraka:

Yeah, I'm kind of confused about why it turned out like this. I'm ignoring all the shipping concerns that come from it. I'm more focused on the story and characters. The whole idea of Uraraka and Toga's shared story was about understanding your feelings, both towards yourself and other people. Especially how bad it is to repress and hide your feelings. The whole catalyst of Toga's story was her being forced to repress herself. So having this whole subplot end like this is really odd if Uraraka doesn't express her feelings. That's not mentioning all the hints, setups, and teasing that pushed these two as a potential couple that fell through by not having any conclusion. I honestly wonder why Hori, or his editors, decided to back down like this. 

Which, hey, now may not be the best time for a confession, but it's still jarring not to see anything come of it after all this time. Especially since so much of the chapter is about the two talking about their feelings. So why is it written like this? Now, I want to dismiss the popular concept that Hori changed this because of death threats between the two. While it's not something I'd put past obsessive fans, there hasn't been anything to substantiate the claim. So, barring rogue translators, my only guess is that Hori or an editor didn't want to do the reveal now and wanted to focus more on the important parts of the two's connection about inspiring one another. I can understand that, but it feels like a part of their dynamic is missing without any real acknowledgment of the two's feelings.

Izuku and Uraraka:

And I say all that to preface that I do like a lot of this scene and I do think it's important to each of the characters. Because Ochako is being open with her feelings here. It's just not the feelings that were being set up all the way in the first chapter. It's the two trying to connect and come to terms with their own failings with their villains. Only to have Izuku reach out his hand, reaffirming that sometimes all people need is a small act of kindness. Though it's hard to always do that, he's willing to do it because he's just that good of a guy. And having Izuku say that Uraraka is his hero is more heartfelt and important to these characters and the story at large then any confession could have been. 

And then we have the rest of Class 1-A coming to help as well. It works as a good parallel to Uraraka saving Izuku back during the Dark Hero Arc. It fits with the idea of heroes saving and helping one another. My only major issue is that I kind of wish we had gotten a little more with Izuku talking about his own feelings regarding Tomura, but we already got that back in Chapter 424. All and All: am I still disappointed that Izuku and Uraraka didn't have any romantic resolution? Kind of. It's less that I wanted them to get together and more I wanted some kind of resolution for it. But I still think what we got is good and that people are focusing way too much on what isn't there than what is there. Which I feel like is a problem with a lot of the ending, but we'll get to that.

Class 1-A Futures:

I do wish we got to see more of the future of Class 1-A, even if they were brief snippets. There are glimpses of Shoto and Bakugou. Bakguou's is alright, and I do like the final bit about no one connecting Shoto and Endeavor. I think that's a good ending for him. The most we get with any kind of detail are Shoji's and Urarak's groups. And I guess Shoji had a good future? Look, the Heteromorph plotline is arguably one of the worst parts of the whole manga. It may even be worse than the Stars and Stripes arc. So I can't exactly muster a lot of enthusiasm seeing it resolved by Shoji in the end. I suppose him thanking the people at the riot was nice? That whole part of the story honestly deserves its own post talking about it.

On the flip side, I'm fine with Uraraka's ending. Because I think people tend to conflate a lot of what makes up "Quirk Counseling", mostly thanks to people like Curious and Toga. One is part of a cult that wants to destroy society and the other most grievously targeted by it. From what we've actually seen of it, such as Tamaki's flashback, it just seems to be a lot of training and understanding your Quirk. Toga was just an unfortunate case where the system as it was couldn't help her and could only try and fit her into a niche. So I don't think expanding it is that big of a problem. Plus, expanding could include more extensive counseling that is more tailored to each child. I do think it's kind of odd that Iida and Momo seem to be stapled on to this ending, though. I'm not sure how this works as an end for either of them. I guess their roles as leaders of the class?

Great Teacher Izuku

Look, I don't mind Izuku having this job. Do I think there could have been other choices for this? Yes, but this is by no means bad. Being a teacher is a lot more respectable in Eastern cultures. Especially since he's teaching at the best hero school in the country, if not the world, it is certainly a high-profile job. And he is still being a hero in his own way and helping out the next generation as a teacher. More importantly, I still think that Izuku achieved his dream of being the greatest hero. The man brought down the greatest villain in human history and was one of the two people responsible for causing a massive shift in the way the world of heroes works. He is truly the world's greatest hero. There is no debating that. This is like some kid wanting to go to space to be the greatest astronaut. They not only go to space, they're the first person on Mars. They also stop the martins from invading Earth, killing the king of the martins, and save humanity. Now injured, they instead teach other cadets how to be astronauts. Would they not have success in their goal of being the greatest astronaut? I don't think anyone could match up with that.

However, my issue is with everything surrounding it. There isn't any set up for him becoming a teacher. It gives us the sense that this was the back-up option for when his real dreams feel through. Especially since Izuku gave everything he could to try and be a hero, and it doesn't happen until the very end of this manga. Which doesn't seem like the intention, since Izuku seems happy enough, but I heard a lot of people saying that. It's lacking in that catharsis and satisfaction that you'd expect from an ending. But you can have an ending that's not exactly happy and still be cathartic, and I think that still applies here. And another problem I have is that he's teaching at UA. Yes, he's helping out the next generation of heroes, but he's not helping out the people that need it most. The kind of people who don't make it into UA. The kind of people like Tomura, Spinner, and Twice. Those are the kind of people that should be getting help like this. Why not put him in a position with a much greater ability to help people? Finally, wasn't the whole point of All Might's arc? That there are other ways to be heroes and life outside of hero work? Why not have that aspect of the story be resolve with him instead of Izuku? He was already going down that route to begin with. Why repeat the same idea?

Walk and Talk

Again, I'm going to have to counter a major talking point I've seen in the fanbase. No, Izuku is not unhappy in his job. He seems to enjoy it and is in fact very good at it, as seen when talking to his students and the plate kid, Dai. He's only unhappy in one panel, in which he's being talked down to by Aizawa. No, Izuku is not forgotten by the world. He's mentioned in the same breath as some of the greatest heroes in the series, has his own statue with the rest of Class 1-A, and is so famous that people know his real name and is of such mythical status that people question if he is real. No, Izuku's friends did not abandon him. The most that Izuku says about that is that it's difficult for all twenty members to get together. He's still probably seeing them in smaller numbers. And I can tell you as someone who has had trouble even getting a quarter of that number of people into a single time slot, it's going to be difficult to get twenty people with separate schedules and lives together.

As for everything with Dai, it's fine. His perspective is pretty important as we get to see the changing worldview. With the demystification of heroes and the elevation of other roles in helping others, young people are now all getting into different fields. The talk around the statue is pretty good as well. Having Izuku effectively talk to a younger version of himself is a good way to close out his arc and all the insecurities he's had over the manga. However, part of me feels like this kind of talk should be done with the stitch-mouth kid. We do actually see him as a part of UA students with Kota. I think having Izuku end up talking to him about his Quirk could have been a good way to end his arc by having him be able to help someone similar. Not to say that the Dai stuff was bad or pointless. It just feels odd to include the guy that's supposed to be the metaphorical spirit of Tomura, put him in Izuku's class, and have them not interact.

The Suit

Again, this is another point where I don't have a major issue with it. At least, I don't have an issue getting the suit itself. I have some issues with the semantics. Did it take too long to build? I wouldn't say that. It was revealed in a piece by Horikoshi that it took all of All Might's vast resources to build, and it lacked a lot of the proper safety features. Having it take some time before it's battle ready for Izuku makes sense. However, that isn't in the manga, at least as far as I can tell. Maybe this makes more sense in the volumes, where stuff like this is included all the time. For real though, these people built this in secret for eight years, and they are just now letting him find out. Was there really no explanation you could have added to make that make more sense?

It creates this odd juxtaposition of endings as well. It gives the feeling of the story wanting to have its cake and eat it as well. Someone wanted Izuku come to terms with being Quirkless and to have a life outside of hero work. The other person wanted Izuku to still fight and be a hero. I also wonder why not just have be both at the same time instead of doing this twist. Make it clear that heroes have a lot more time, both thanks to Hawks and the contributions of the many heroes in the world all working together. Izuku doesn't need to be a full-time hero to save people and chooses to be a teacher to help people in a way that only he can do. That way, he can still be a hero that isn't necessarily the profession while being a professional hero without a Quirk.

Final Thoughts

Now, what are my final options for all of this? I think that ending was pretty solid, leaning good. I do agree that it's better than what is on offer than a lot of shōnen series and a good enough ending for the story. I'm not saying it's amazing or perfect. Though I do find myself more satisfied than frustrated. I get a lot of what the story is going for, and it makes sense. It just needed some refinement to really work. As for what everyone else has said about it, I honestly think that a lot of people are overreacting. I wouldn't go as far as to say people are "lacking media literacy" or that they are "reading in bad faith" like others have on either side of the debate. I just think this as a case where the context and delivery of it resulted in a lot of confusion. And more often than not, people will tend to go with the worst version of the implications. This is not helped by the leaks and bad translations which fans ran away with, as well the built-up hype and headcanons, which poisoned the well for a lot of people.

However, I cannot deny that there is part of the fanbase that is simply not getting the manga. I don't want to use the word "tourist", because that's a No True Scotsman fallacy, but it's starting to feel applicable here. The people who simply aren't reading the manga, whether it be through engaging with it solely through other people talking about it, or trying to look at it anything beyond the most kneejerk and surface level reactions. Because a lot of people tend to conflate what My Hero Academia is about or what its story is conveying. And unfortunately, those are the people with massive followings. Anyone with a differing opinion is drowned out in the sea of angry comments. And I think we really need to get away from that. What I'm saying is that you read the story as it is. Focus on what is happening and what it is trying to say. Don't force a meaning or headcanon on something that wasn't there and don't rely on word of mouth for what the manga is about. Just focus on what the story is trying to say.

My only hope is that this will pass, and calmer heads will win out. That once it's stepped outside the zeitgeist, people will be able to analyze it as a whole. If not, then I'm terrified to think that this will become My Hero Academia's legacy: a bunch of stupid jokes made by people who can't bother to read the official version of the story or try to understand a culture outside their own even when it plays a vital role within the story. If not, then I can hope that maybe something else will come to replace it. Because I'm not sure if this is truly the end. I've heard rumors that there's going to be something akin to Naruto: The Last or the Naruto Wedding Special coming out after the anime ends. If not that, who knows who other kinds of side material will come out to follow up on the world or characters. Which would make sense. The ending doesn't feel like an ending as much as it does "And the adventure continues." Which could be why I'm not as affected by this ending as other people.

There's certainly the cultural side and how that surrounds the manga. I'll always stand by the fact that this manga is a Japanese story by a Japanese author for a Japanese audience. And there's a lot of cultural context that goes into the series. I keep thinking about how a lot of Japanese fans seemed to like the ending and how much I wished I had the context to understand it. Another part of it is how much I'm thinking about Hori. Because for all the popularity of it, being a mangaka is one of the most stressful jobs in Japan. One where the artist has much less say over how their story goes. I'm so curious about what went on behind the scenes to make My Hero Academia turn out the way it is. Was all this Hori fumbling his own story, whether that be through incompetence or failing health, or were there outside forces pressing on him to do things a certain way? It's like how people became more forgiving of Kubo or Toriyama once they found out how hamstrung they were by their higher ups. I suppose only time will tell.

Rewrite

Now, time for the Rewrite portion. As a reminder, I do try to keep to what the manga does as close as possible. For example, I personally would just let Izuku keep some version of "One For All" if the ultimate conclusion was him still being a hero. However, it's obvious that Hori didn't want to go that route with it, so I'll be sticking to him getting with the suit.

Starting things off, we'll be in the hospital with Izuku and All Might recovering. We're told about "One For All" leaving him, and we'll get some reaction from Izuku about it. He will be sad but resolved. He may not have "One For All", but he's still alive. He's got the skill and will to help people without it. And he still wants to do that, even in his own way, because he still has value without "One For All". This could help soften the blow of Izuku losing out on "One For All". That and it's at least something to try to tie up Izuku's self worth issues. This will also be something confirmed by Inko, putting a nice little bow on all this with her being more properly encouraging of Izuku as opposed to how things were in Chapter 1.

Then we're going to reveal how many people want to talk to Izuku. Reporters are going to be hounding Izuku for his story, considering how he was key in stopping Tomura. Which he obviously can't do right now due to his condition. After some time, he will eventually recover enough to give a press conference. This will also be where we get the varying opinions on Tomura, having a panel overwhelming Izuku with questions and thoughts. Izuku is now going to use his newly found position to try and change things for the better. He's going to emphasize the importance of the role of the other heroes and not have it all focus on him. He's going to use it as a platform to talk about who Tomura was and why he did what he did.

It's going to be something emotional and vulnerable, something propping up Izuku as a person rather than the hero Deku, working to prevent another situation like All Might where everyone keeps putting them on pedestals. This way, we have both the validation of Izuku saving everyone and wanting to bring about change on the societal level. It shows him being a hero in the traditional way with the defeat of All For One, now he's being a hero in the non-traditional way. This will be cutting into some of the time we have at UA, but to me, I don't think a lot of what's in that part is ultimately necessary to what the story is trying to say.

For the sake of this, Hawks will still be working as the head of the Hero Commission. He'll talk about how he feels free now that his Quirk is gone and everything that came with it, more so than ever before. However, he still wants to make life easier for heroes so that they can feel this kind of freedom. He initially didn't want the position, but felt the need to take it on after everything that's happened and make things right, implying the guilt he feels over his actions. Plus, it has some nice irony of Hawks still being trapped within the Hero Commissions. So him taking the role is more of his own penance and a punishment.

So while Izuku is fighting on the public front, changing the hearts of the masses to enact change, Hawks will be fighting on the political and systematic front, using the devastation of the country as a fresh start. He'll encourage groups of heroes to work together rather than focusing on the individual. He'll push for a greater level of training or vetting when it comes to people who can get a license for hero work. Most importantly, a greater level of accountability and transparency in both heroes and the Hero Commission as a whole.

Lady Nagant will remain in jail, but it's more for reasons of atonement rather than wanting to wait and see how things play out. Hawks will try to offer her some deal or reduction as a way to make things right, but she feels like it's the right thing to do rather than trying to pretend it never happened. This will also be the part where we explore some of the points with Hawks we talked about earlier. Lady Nagant can even question if the Hero Commission is needed, but Hawks can talk about all the reforms he wants to do with it.

For Chapter 426, we're shortening the Todoroki family time, and it will only take up half of the chapter. I will have some confirmation on whether or not Rei was able to move on from what Enji did and do more to cement how Enji is alone now. He may be resolved to change and make things right, but he is not getting his family back. That ship has sailed. Instead, we'll be sticking to everything involving Hawks and Toshinori in the latter half of this, with him talking to Lady Nagant and him discussing his plans for changing the ranking systems in general. I think it'd flow a lot better, works with tying up another character so closely tied to the Todorokis, and gives us more time for other stuff.

However, we're keeping 427 mostly intact. I think Spinner's material is good, and everything that got brought up needed to be mentioned one way or another. The most I'd do is cut down on the ending gag, since it frustrates me so much, and some of the interviews since we may not need them as much with how I'll be changing things in those sections. I am removing the Kai part of the chapter as well. I like Kai, but this honestly feels pointless in the grand scheme of things.

The biggest change will be that I'll include a bit where, instead of Izuku saying to make it a comic book, he'll remind Spinner to think about what would happen if someone like Spinner read it. About how important a book like that could be and how it should be written, but also how it could hurt someone who reads it. Spinner will remain silent in response, thinking back on how he saw Stain and how he was puppeteered around by the likes of One For All and the PLF during the Final War.

I think you could do a nice parallel between Izuku and Spinner here. They were two young men who were ultimately racialized and hurt by their idols and their lack of self-worth. Again, it's showing Izuku thinking about himself more with what has happened to him and tying that to Spinner's own situation. Plus, it prevents something like Spinner's book from having the unfortunate implication of turning out to something like the MLA book.

We're cutting Chapters 428 and 429 in half and stitching them together. Specifically, all the stuff with the new Class 1-A and the Old Class 1-A will be removed. I just feel like we don't need to focus on this as much as other parts of the world or story. Preferably, I would want them to get together. With the Bakugou and Shoto being seen bit, we're throwing in Izuku as well. There needs to be some confirmation that people did in fact see him as a hero as well and confirm that the three are in fact the new Big Three of UA. I'm not asking this to be the norm of it like they do in Naruto. I just feel like there should be some external validation.

The fight between Toga and Uraraka will be around and released to the public. Her death will be seen as something tragic to the world and help spark the change we see later on with people empathizing with villains like her. This could also lead to Izuku seeing it and being the impetus for Izuku and Ochako talking about their feelings. Yes, this chapter will include a confession for Ochako to Izuku. It won't be during a breakdown, but it needs to be put in somewhere and might as well be here. I'll even settle for an implication. Up to you on whether or not you think this should solidify them as a couple, but I feel like you have to include that in order to complete all of the set-up in the series and especially with Toga.

The new Chapter 429 will instead be a two-year time jump into the future before everyone is graduating. We can still start it off with some of the "where are they now" bits, but not have it take up too much time. With the final embers of "One For All" starting to fade out, Izuku knows this is the end of him as a proper hero, but it doesn't matter to him. He got to be the greatest hero in history who literally saved the world. He doesn't define himself by having a Quirk or not and knows that he can still help people without a costume on. Izuku plans on either going into counseling, charity work, or even trying to get a job at the Hero Commission. Up to you on this one. He still wants to help and stop the various hurting people of the world from ever becoming like anyone from the League ever again. Make it clear this is something Izuku wants.

This is when Toshinori gives him his graduation gift: the suit. Between Toshinori's remaining resources, gifts and gratitude from the various people across the world, and contributions from members of 1-A, they were able to build him the suit. Toshinori kept it from Izuku because it wasn't ready until a few days ago, needing to be properly prepared and built as opposed to the rush job that was the dangerous prototype he used. Izuku, of course, has notes and ideas for improvements on the suit. Toshinori reaffirms that Izuku earned this, and he will still be a worthy hero and successor, Quirkless or otherwise. The chapter ends with Class 1-A and 1-B graduating. I know that two years seems short, but I think that the timespan is enough of a time gap to get the suit together, at least with how I am setting it up, and to have the embers of "One For All" fade. 

The alternative route is that, knowing that the embers are running out, Izuku still wants to be a hero. So he's spent the last two years trying to prepare himself for that, putting as much time into training and learning how to use equipment made for him. He doesn't care if he isn't going to be the top hero. He's going to do what he's already been doing: helping people, because that's all he really wanted out of life. That this whole experience changed how he saw himself and hero work. You could even say that it's the prototype for him, eventually becoming the suit. Maybe even combine them both, with the former being a backup plan after hero work. And while I have never been the biggest fan of the whole "Quirkless Hero" concept with how little it's supported in the world, I think we can let it slide because it's the finale. But I wanted to mention it because I thought it'd be an interesting path for the story to take.

Then the real chapter 430 will cut to the future, roughly five to six years. I could take or leave Izuku being a teacher, but for the sake of this, let's say that he is one. Heroes have more time off, so he decides to help educate people. We'll get a similar series of panels that will focus more on the world with how it is now, mainly in relation to Class 1-A. This will show a lot more of how the 1-A kids have grown and the affects they have on the world, like Uraraka actually interacting and helping a kid like Toga come to terms with their power to show how Quirk Counseling has become a tool to help people. I think we really need more scenes like that to really show that things have grown and changed with the world. Izuku's suit will have changed as well, commenting on how much he's been involved with the modeling and planning throughout his most current iteration.

Toshinori will be living his life and still teaching at UA. He talks about how all the kids want to be like Izuku, especially with Kota, and that they never stop talking about him. He jokes to himself about how he feels like he's been forgotten. Cut back to Izuku's old school with the kid in the back. Events will happen similarly to what they did in Chapter 430, with Izuku meeting a kid similar to himself at All Might's statue. There will be the usual stuff he said, trying to encourage the kid, making comparisons to himself, maybe even showing the photos All Might took of him when he was training. He gets a call about an incident and needs to leave. He tells the kid to never forget about the hero he can be and to never stop striving to be that hero. The final words of the series are the ever-iconic "Plus Ultra".  This is beyond cheesy, but if we're going to end the series, we might as well end it with some cheese.

[lucygxybaird]

imagine if you and billy have a fight, and you end up storming out, slamming the door behind you. you don't even bother with a horse, instead just striding into the woods that border your home, leaves crunching and twigs snapping hard underfoot. nor do you keep track of where you're going, just letting your anger push you like a hand at your back.

eventually, you can feel your rage cool, draining away the way the warmth of an evening will seep into the ground as the sun sets. which -- you realize with a start, looking around you as the shadows deepen and a few stars even wink into life over head -- has actually snuck up on you, the sun slipping away as you fumed over what billy had said to you.

(and, the longer you walked, as you regretted what you had said to him.)

you start to panic as you realize that you're not even sure how far you've gone, or if you've maintained a straight line through the woods. what if you've taken a turn somewhere? or even so -- say you get turned around in the dark? maybe out in the fields, there's still light to see by, but the tree limbs are greedy with the moonlight. their brittle fingers tear the silver streamers into pieces, rendering them nearly useless.

without really thinking, you start to run in the direction you (think, hope) came from, the pounding of your heart and the pounding of your feet creating a thunder that drowns out everything else.

well -- nearly everything else.

because in the distance, but growing closer all the time, you see a tiny spark of golden light bobbing around, frantically, like a frightened firefly. and then you hear your name, called over and over again in a voice gone hoarse with desperation and repetition.

it takes you just a moment more to recognize it.

"billy!"

you start to run again, toward billy, toward his light, which grows brighter as he gets closer to you. he's running, too, his longer legs eating up the distance more easily than yours. in a few moments, you're in his arms, crushed against his chest so tightly that you can barely breathe.

"what were you thinkin'?" his words are muffled because he's buried his face against your hair. "you coulda gotten lost, you coulda been hurt, somebody dangerous coulda found you--"

"i'm sorry," you whisper, clinging to him. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry--"

his arms tighten around you. maybe he can hear the tears brimming in your voice, even as they rise to the waterline of your eyelashes, or maybe it's just plain relief that gentles him. "it's okay," he says softly. "you're alright. i got you, okay? you're safe."

you sniffle. "and i'm sorry about before--"

billy presses a kiss to the top of your head. "me too," he says, and pulls back just enough to frame your face between his hands, lantern dangling from one wrist. "honey, you just gotta understand. it's not that i want to leave you behind when i gotta do my work. an' it's not that i don't think you're capable, or strong. i know you are. i know you can help."

he pauses to kiss your forehead, earning a small smile from you.

"but i don't want you in this life anymore than you already are, just for lovin' me," he says. "an' i want you to be safe. if somethin' were to happen to you..."

your lips part, ready to offer comfort, but he shakes his head. he's not done.

"i don't think you understand," he says, his voice even rougher now, "what you mean to me. i have lost everyone else. my family is gone, mr. tunstall is gone. darlin', you're all i got. i know waitin' for me to get home is hard, especially with all this fightin'. but i need to know that you're safe. if i didn't have you to come back to..."

billy clears his throat. "well, i'm...I'm just not sure i would really have much to live for at all. you understand?"

you nibble on your lower lip. you do, but he's right -- you hate watching him leave on a raid, knowing full well that you might never see him again. you hate the waiting, when your nerves are pulled so achingly taut that every second feels like an hour, and your mind plays a nightmarish concerto on those tense strings. you want to go out with him. you can ride well, and shoot, and you're even a dab hand at first aid. you can help.

you reminded him of that tonight, reminded him that, in fact, you have helped before. more than once the regulators have needed an extra hand when one of their number -- including billy, god forbid -- have been snatched up, whether by the law or by the seven rivers gang.

billy didn't like to hear that, and you didn't like to hear that he never, ever wanted you to do anything like that again.

but --

"yes," you say finally, rubbing determinedly at your eyes with one hand. "i understand."

and you do. you just don't like it.

billy smiles, like he knows exactly what you're thinking. his hand cups your jaw, thumb smoothing over the point of you chin. "i know," he says. "i wish there was a better way. but there just isn't, right now."

you bury your face against his chest. "i know."

he keeps an arm around your shoulders, guiding you toward home. "come on," he says, leaning down to press another kiss against the crown of your head. "let's just...go home."

home. it's a simple word, but it reminds you -- the both of you -- what you have together. what you have to fight for.

you lean against him as you walk. you nod. "let's go home."