#lmao I have once again said too much in tags... hello is anyone here. hi

[bacchuschucklefuck]

I don't think I've seen you mention it, but for your class!swap au, do you have any idea of what you'd turn the other Bad Kids into?

genuinely love the way this ask is worded first of all. I am like a great magician ur right and the bad kids are my victim. I am like their joker if you will. anyways I do! I've definitely brought this up on this blog before (in nonrebloggable untagged text posts so I don't blame you for not seeing them lol (I don't blame you regardless of that tbh bc that's a weird thing to do)) but the rundown is: kristen -> sorcerer, gorgug -> cleric, fig -> barbarian, adaine -> artificer, fabian -> rogue

[tathrin]

Ehehe, hello, I am here to feed the procrastination gremlin! Those prompts all sound fun, but 21 and 28 are speaking to my heart rn.

Maybe 36 to if you feel up for it but it's your writing and you decide how many you wanna do<3

The procrastination gremlin thanks your mightily! Because I tend to Get Too Long when I write thing, I'm going to preemptively separate these out into their own posts and just assume that I'll ramble too much for it to make sense to do them all in one lmao. Also I will definitely do all three because yes more gimleaf yes. This is an ask meme that I will literally always be accepting prompts for (although if somebody sees this in the tag in like a month or so and wants to send one in, maybe include some context so that I know what that random number I just got in my inbox means? lmao). So, prompt taken from this; anyone can feel free to send other numbers in at any time. Literally.

#21....on a place of insecurity.

Gimli stared at his reflection in the round silver mirror, his hands paused even though his braids were still half-undone. "Do you ever wish that we had crossed the Sea sooner?" he asked.

Legolas blinked at him, cocking his head in that familiar birdlike tilt of confusion that Gimli knew so well.

"Sooner?" Legolas repeated. "How could we have come sooner?" A frown furrowed his smooth, beardless face; a temporary crinkling of skin that would never show the faintest wrinkle. "You mean before Aragorn died?"

"You're right," Gimli sighed. He tugged at his braids, their once-bright copper laced so heavily with strands of silver that he sometimes felt like he had just walked out of a snowfall. "We could not have, of course. But...do you ever wish..."

"Leaving sooner would not have spared us the pain of his death," Legolas said quietly. "It would only have meant that we would not have been there for him when it happened; only have meant that we would not have been there for Arwen or their children either. Knowing of his death only from stories brought by later travelers would not have spared us anything, I do not think; knowing of his death without having been there ourselves would, I think, have only made it hurt the worse, my dear."

"Yes," Gimli said, "yes, of course. I did not mean—"

He stopped. Legolas had walked up behind him and bent down to look over Gimli's shoulder into the mirror. It should have looked awkward, the sight of Legolas's long spine arced at such an angle, but elves were spindly, lithesome creatures. Wood-elves in particular seemed to be as supple and spritely as saplings, and Gimli had yet to witness Legolas contort himself into a position that strained his pliant bones.

"Gimli," Legolas said, "what is wrong?"

"Nothing," Gimli said. He lowered his eyes and his fingers both, twisting his remaining braids into place as quickly as he could without mussing the pattern of the plaits or dropping strands. He scowled, even though he knew that doing so would only deepen the wrinkles that already lined his eyes. "Nothing is wrong."

Long, smooth fingers pressed gently on his own calloused ones until they stilled. Gimli looked down at the overlap of those long digits across his own, the one set brown and spindly as twigs yet unblemished by time or strife; the other pale as underground mushrooms and gnarled by both time and heavy forge-work.

"Gimli," Legolas said. "Tell me."

Gimli turned his hand so that he could enfold those long brown fingers in his own and gave Legolas's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Nothing is wrong, my love," he said again. "I am only feeling melancholy this morning, it seems. Think no more upon it."

He raised the elf's ageless hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to those smooth knuckles, then released it so that he could continue with his braids.

Legolas did not rise. Instead he dropped lower to fold his arms across the back of Gimli's chair, his bright eyes studying the sight of the dwarf before him in the mirror. Gimli avoided his gaze, focusing instead on the intricate plaits that hung from his chin, but he could feel the weight of Legolas's eyes passing over his face, searching for the answers that Gimli would not give him.

He did not find them.

"Will you not tell me?" Legolas asked at last. His voice was soft, his eyes full of sorrow. "Please?"

Gimli sighed and let the braid in his hands droop loose and unfinished down his chest.

He looked up into the mirror again at last and met Legolas's searching, worried eyes there. He looked at that smooth, beardless, beloved face waiting there behind him; unchanging and unchanged from the day they had first met so long ago and far away in Rivendell.

His eyes flicked sideways to his own reflection, to the wrinkles that time had carved beneath his beard; to the strands of silver that wove through the bright copper braids that hung before him. He reached out and pressed his fingers to the mirror, to the sight of the lines around his eyes, and sighed.

"I would not be so old," Gimli said quietly, "if we had come sooner; that is all. I only wonder if you wish, sometimes, that we had. That is all."

Time did not pass in Aman the way it did in other places; or if it did, then it did not feel as though it did, and it carried no trace of decay with it. Gimli had not aged a day since they had first set foot upon these white shores—but he had aged two hundred and sixty-two years before that.

He was still hale and hearty, for dwarves—especially the dwarves of Durin's line—often lived many years longer than that, and rarely weakened before the very ending of their days came upon them. But he was no spritely youngster of sixty-two, either, moping because his father had deemed him too young to go along on a Quest; nor was he a mature youth of not quite one hundred and forty, boldly striding forward at last upon a Quest of his own, all bright brown eyes and ruddy copper beard.

Gimli was old, now, and he looked it. He could see it every morning when he looked in the mirror to do his braids, or every afternoon when he caught sight of his reflection in the cooling barrels at the forge or in some clear, still pool that held Aman's crystal waters. He could see it, and he knew Legolas could as well; how could he not, when he was surrounded by the contrast of all the smooth, beardless, ageless faces of his people?

"Are you tired?" Legolas asked, and his light voice was a dry croak. Shadows as thick as Mordor's fogs filled his eyes, and Gimli turned from the mirror with a cry and caught Legolas's hands with his own.

"No!" he cried. He knew that Legolas was not asking after Gimli's slumber, or weariness from working the forge; was not asking about anything as simple as a day's ordinary exhaustion. He was asking if Gimli was tired of life; if he was tired of eternity. If he was ready, at long last, to claim the gift of his own mortality.

"Legolas, no," Gimli said, squeezing those spindly fingers so tightly that had they been the frail twigs they seemed they would have snapped beneath the pressure of his grip—but elvish flesh was strong, so much stronger than it looked. So were dwarven spirits, and Gimli had no intention of ever growing weary of the world, not so long as Legolas was in it. "I promise," he assured his elf, raising first one hand and then the other to his lips. "Never, Legolas. I am here with you, and I always will be."

Legolas's smile trembled, but it was a smile. Gimli counted it as a victory, and pulled the elf up out of his crouch and into Gimli's lap. He had too much leg to fit on such a short chair, of course, but the two of them were used to that problem; it was no effort at all to fall into the long habits that had his ankles curling sideways under the chair, his elvish flexibility making easy work of the awkward position.

"Then what troubles you?" Legolas asked. He snaked his long arms around Gimli's shoulders and leaned his beardless cheek down to rest upon Gimli's head. "My love, please. Tell me."

"I am old, Legolas," Gimli said. He unwrapped one hand from the elf's slender waist to press his fingers to the cobweb of wrinkles beside his eyes. "You can see it plainly on my face. Old, as no one else in Aman ever will be."

"Bilbo is old," said Legolas.

Gimli rolled his eyes. "Yes, all right," he said. "And Sam, too. But aside from them, everyone else here is an elf—"

"Or a maia," Legolas interrupted. "Or one of the Valar. Or—"

"My point," Gimli cut him off loudly, "is that age is writ across my face in ways that elvish faces do not age. I am only sorry, my dear, that I can do nothing to erase those lines, these streaks of silver; only sorry that you cannot spend eternity beside a dwarf in his prime of life, but must instead contend with these wearisome wrinkles."

Legolas drew away far enough that he could gape down at Gimli. "Wearisome?" he repeated. "Sorry? Gimli!"

"I know, I know," Gimli soothed, "it is a little enough thing, I suppose, and I am not ungrateful; I am only sorry for your sake, my dear—"

"Sorry!" Legolas said again. "Gimli, you everlasting fool of a dwarf! Is this what you've been fretting over all this time?

"...Yes?"

"Gimli!" Legolas squawked. "Oh, my beloved idiot! I feared you were growing tired of forever, and were going to have to leave me! Instead you've just been pouting over how handsome you are?"

"Handsome!" Gimli exclaimed. "Legolas, enough. I am sorry beyond words that I made you worry, but that is no call to mock me—"

"I do not mock," Legolas said. His lilting voice for once was as firm as stones. "I adore every inch of you, Gimli. Yes, even the wrinkles; yes, even the silver in your beard!" He shook his head, scowling down at his dwarf. "Perhaps especially the silver in your beard, for it gleams like mithril in the moonlight, even as the ancient lights of lost Trees are said to still gleam in the locks of the Lady Galadriel, oh Lockbearer!"

Gimli sputtered, heat rising fast in his cheeks. He tried to push the elf away, but Legolas tightened his grip upon his shoulders and refused to be budged from Gimli's knees.

"And your wrinkles," he continued in a softer voice, "are the signs that our years together have etched upon your face, even as your clever hands carve beauty into simple metal and plain rocks. How could I help but love them, when they trace our story out upon your face for all to see?" Legolas leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the sparkle of crows-feet that framed first one eye and then the other, then traced the deep tracks that lines Gimli's mouth and nose beneath his beard. Finally he raised Gimli's hand and pressed a long kiss to those ruddy, wrinkled fingers.

"Legolas, I...I feel I've been a fool," Gimli murmured. He found himself once again unable to meet Legolas's eyes, this time because of the blush that darkened his cheeks with a blaze of hot mortification.

"You have been," Legolas agreed, "but fortunately I knew you for a fool long before I knew you for anything else, my love, and so I am not bothered overmuch."

A watery laugh spilled from Gimli's lips, and he could not help but smile. "And you are as irritating and irreverent as ever," he retorted.

"Of course I am," Legolas agreed, and hopped up off Gimli's lap and the low chair upon which he sat and grinned down at his dwarf with a twinkling smile. "Some things do not change with the passage of time—but even though my face does not show it, I have very much been changed by knowing you, my dear Gimli, and I would not trade a second of it in exchange for a single lifted wrinkle or silvered hair."

"Well," Gimli said, "I am glad to hear it, and sorry now that I did not voice my concerns sooner."

"So am I!" said Legolas. "But I cannot hold it against you when I did not voice mine either, although in my case it was because I feared to pressure you into extending your time in life beyond your own comfort for my sake alone."

Gimli stood and took his elf's hands in his and held them tight. "Forever is only barely enough time to spend at your side, Legolas," he said, "but as it is all the time the world will give us, I will take it; but I will accept not a second less than that, and would not see that time shortened for any reason even if it was only for your own comfort, and not my own. I can think of no greater purpose for one's life than to bring comfort to one whom I so love."

Legolas beamed down at him, his pale eyes bright with unshed tears. "Well!" he said. "That is all sorted, then!"

"Indeed it is," Gimli agreed. He knew that the smile spreading behind his beard was the sort of soft, misty-eyed grin that Peregrin Took had always labeled "absurdly sappy," but he could not help himself; he felt as though he was fairly brimming-over with love, and he could not contain himself from letting it show upon his face, erstwhile sappiness be damned.

"In that case," Legolas said, his damp gaze dancing suddenly with dry mischief, "let me get you out of that tunic and into our bed and I will find all your other wrinkles and properly express my love for them, too."

Gimli decided he could finish his braids later.

[totally-not-deacon]

It's WIP Wednesday, my dudes!

Tagged by @throughtrialbyfire! Thanks a bunch!!

In turn, I'll bug @miraakulous-cloud-district @kookaburra1701 and @rogueshadeaux if ya wanna!

Sooo, I haven't had as much time to write as I usually would, thanks to condensed courses kicking in. Thankfully it's only for the next two months. And most of the writing I have been doing isn't directly part of AR, but a future may-not-ever-be-published-cause-it's-just-that-self-indulgent sappy epilogue lmao. That one started out as getting a scene out of my head, and then it just... exploded. I'll give y'all some of the main fic I've chipped away at, and as a treat, a little bit of epilogue that won't spoil TOO much of what's going down under the cut.

Arenthia Red:

“When this is all over with, I’m moving somewhere flat.” Marasa shivered so hard she felt she’d fall over. Maybe there was a shout out there that would teach her to fly. Wouldn’t that be nice? “I don’t even want to see an anthill after this.” “And yet you’re the one that dragged us up here.” Nebarra grumbled. “And once again, left me to haul all the firewood.” “Oh, you’ll live.” “The day’s not over yet.” “Guys, can we please go inside now? I’m not even sure I still have toes.” No, if any of them was looking worse for wear, it was Lucien. The fact that he was still upright and not lying frozen halfway back down the path was a shock to them all. She wasn’t sure he’d ever acclimate to the cold or altitude. “Alright, alright, we’re going.” Marasa bumped his shoulder playfully before dragging the massive door open, the frozen metal scraping against the stone making their ears ring. Their footfalls echoed across the hall, just as they had the first time they’d stepped through. In fact, it looked like nothing had changed at all. Maybe it had always been like this, even at its founding. “Hello? Arngeir, you home?” she called out, wincing at how loud her little joke was compared to the relative silence of the monastary. “I’m sure he just ran down to the market for some bread and eggs.” Nebarra deadpanned next to her. “Shut it, skeever brain.” she rapped her knuckles against his breastplate. “Rich coming from the goblin wearing an elf suit.” “Are you children done?” Xelzaz shook his head. The gods must have a strange sense of humor when it came to picking their champions.

Self-Indulgence ahead! (set four-ish years post-game in 4E205)

“What’s the name of the ship again?”

“The… Sword of Alinor, I think.”

“Huh, weird name for a passenger ship.” she mumbled, letting her feet dangle over the side of the dock, toes just barely skimming the water’s surface. Must have been repurposed after the war. Marasa’s fingers twisted in the hem of her tunic. She tried to focus on the sound of the waves crashing against the docks, trying to keep the urge to run at bay. She zeroed in on it. This had to be a mistake, just what was she thinking?

“Shouldn’t I be the nervous one?”

“You’ve been pacing for the last hour.”

“I get sea sick.” he said, simply.

“No you don’t.” Nebarra grumbled to himself before taking a seat next to her, putting an arm around her shoulders. She pressed herself into him, sighing. It was uncommon for either of them to show much affection in public – rarely did they let their guard down enough to do so. The change of pace was… nice. Maybe it would last. “Besides, they’ll like you. Probably.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” he said flatly, feeling her laugh quietly against him. “And you’re sure they won’t mind me…”

“Being an Altmer?” she asked, shaking her head. “Not at all. I mean, my first partner was Khajiit, after all.”

“Wait, really?” Had she not told him that? Must have slipped her mind. “He wasn’t one of those… really big ones, right? ‘Cause I’ll fight your ex if I have to, but –”

Marasa snorted. “No, and you don’t have to fight anyone. Last I heard, Ja’zan’s married and been living in Riverhold for decades now.”

“But seriously, what’s got you nervous?” That was his job, anyway. This was more terrifying than any dragon they’d faced together – including Alduin – as far as he was concerned.

“ Besides the obvious? It’s just… Last time, I didn’t even tell them I left, or why. Just… hopped on the first ship out at dawn, didn’t matter where it was going. And now,” she chewed her lip. “It’s been almost fifteen years. What if they don’t want to see –”

“Then they wouldn’t have sounded so excited in their letter.” He rested his hand on the back of her neck, thumb rubbing soothing circles against it. Marasa leaned into the touch. “Besides, at least you’re better at writing home than I am.”

“I’m glad you did, though.”

Only to get you to quit harassing me about it.” he teased.

[bosspigeon]

If it’s not too much, I request all of those companion!Tav questions for Pyre :3c If it’s too much to answer at once, then just the ones that intrigue you the most!

hello this has been in my ask for a while to the point that i had to dig back through my blog to find the post in question! but i have since tagged it so i can find it again~ i have not actually played the game and probably won't be able to for a while, so i'm gonna just answer the ones i can with the info i have! <3

Where can your Tav be recruited? Are they first encountered on the Nautiloid, or in the Nautiloid crash region? Or are they not recruitable until a later act?

i think of Pyre as a fairly early to grab optional companion, and he can only be recruited if you side with/protect the tiefling refugees. i think he might be a contact of Zevlor's that he tells you to seek out for help. an old brother-in-arms~ you will probably find him Chilling and Surrounded By Corpses while casually cleaning his sword.

Do the other companions have special comments or reactions upon recruiting your Tav?

Wyll for sure makes a comment about Pyre being "one hell of a tiefling" (haha) just based on size alone. "So they were definitely exaggerating about his size... but not by much." He's probably heard stories here and there from folks around the camp that know him/know of him. might even have a fun little kind-of-awed war story or two he's been told that are definitely a bit overblown after so long. Astarion just calls him something like a Wall Of Meat and sounds Vaguely Hungry about that. Karlach wants to see if she can goad him into a sparring match~ Shadowheart, ofc, senses Selunite magic and is not pleased...

Does your Tav have any comments or advice when you recruit other companions?

Pyre is going to be polite and not just look straight at Astarion like "You know that's a vampire, right?" but he will probably say something along the lines of "Make sure you keep an eye on the pale one." Definitely has heard glowing reviews about Wyll and Karlach, but probably has some comments on their being... a bit green, but well-meaning and skilled nonetheless. He is polite about Shadowheart too, because he's not the most devout of paladins and is more focused on his vow rather than outright worship, but he's a very Cautious Type, so he's the sort to go down the line and give a Pros/Cons list lmao. "Idk she might betray you, she might not tho you decide" cryptic and not too helpful but he never said he was. He also has a plan prepared on how to kill literally anyone he meets if he thinks they're a threat in any way, and if he likes you enough, he might share <3

What sort of general actions raise or lower their approval?Are there any instances where your Tav can permanently leave the party, depending on player character actions?

Lumping these ones together because HOO BOY YEAH Pyre does not fuck around with certain things. His vow means he cannot sit by and just watch certain things go down. Obviously you won't even meet him if you side against the tieflings, so any sort of behavior that puts them in danger? You are suddenly hearing boss battle music. definitely gonna get some disapproval points for keeping that tome of Thay or giving it to anyone but him so he can destroy it, but he might still stick around, just side-eye you intensely. he doesn't really approve of most types of necromancy, but he's surprisingly civil with Withers. Basically any sort of treating people like chattel or tokens to be bartered, especially children or those who can't otherwise defend themselves gets HEAVY disapproval and to a certain extent straight-up Aggro~

Do they have any secrets that can be revealed? What are the prerequisites for this secret coming to light?

OH BOY SEVERAL. the one he's most careful about? that fact that he is not even a tiefling. he's a cambion. that one is more likely to come out than the rest of it, which is that he's half-succubus specifically. dealing with Raphael, he'd probably make himself pretty scarce, while also warning the player not to trust him. the whole House of Hope situation will have him tense and quierter than usual. He is staring daggers at Raphael the entire time, daring him to say something (which I'm sure he would eventually, if you continuousy involve Pyre in quests with Raphael) and i feel like Pyre's origins would come out specifically upon dealing with either Haarlep or Mizora.

What do they say when the Player Character asks them to stay in camp? How about when the Player Character asks them to come adventuring again?

Leaving him at camp: [Judgemental Grunt]

Come Adventuring: [Approving hum.]

Does your Tav have any escalating conflicts with one of the other companions, like Lae’zel and Shadowheart’s knife-fight?

the only thing that really comes to mind is Physically Depositing Astarion at the MC's feet and telling him to keep his teeth to himself hfdkjshgjl. idk he's kind of the king of staying in his own lane.

[diamagneticcoordinationcomplex]

hi hi its me u know that pink fan who dumped too many words in one comment instead of spreading it out by chapter like a normal person lmao

(psst it was to lure u into giving spoilers accidentally but damn it didnt work இ௰இ)

can i say im an og fan of yours??? i really really loved ur iwft series at first sight since im also more or less an emmet simp and at that time your iwft story was a sight for sore eyes! amidst all the angst and pain, a fun bamf emmet story was something i needed! and then you continued to pump out masterpieces one after another and as you can tell i've been ummmm verrry aware of you like keeping an eye out for something new from you aware-aware haha *refreshes subscription list like a maniac*

and oh i was not being anonymous at all as i thought haha (tbh i feel kinda honored you know me even as far back as my roxana phase the world needs more roxana tbh badass bitches rule my manhwa list btw have u also read the princess 's doll shop its my pfp i love her ヾ(≧▽≦*)o)

i dont usually comment in my favorite authors' stories (tho i should probably do it more often) but when i do its going to be more or less an avalanche of words

actually i do have more thoughts about wonderland simmering in my head but i didn't include it bc i was almost at ao3 character limit lmao so i'll just say it here

i wanted to include ghetsis in my speculations bc i feel like he had a hand in whatever issue the king was having and probably pushed the rift between nobori and kudari. we haven't heard from him yet so its a sneaking suspicion 🤔 i also wanted to include allusions to kyurem since i mentioned the forest of mirrors as a boundary between wonderland and the real world and guess who's the boundary pokemon idk bulbapedia said it was a husk pokemon idk who that is *wink wink nudge nudge* and since our resident amnesiac kudari was there maybe it means something? i also wanted to make some comparisons between kyurem and the king but i felt it was getting wayyy out of hand hehe

also also as you can probably tell i believe that wonderland is very much a real place but it is also a product of a dream since gen 5 had that dream world mechanic dunno how that's gonna fit in the story but its a nice thought

i also have thoughts on the memory hall and why the king restricted the place and why ingo got like conflicting memories but i am running out of words i need to soak my brain somewhere else first byeee have a nice day/night!!!

Hello, pink one! Good to hear/read from you again! I verrrry much appreciated the long comment in the latest Wonderland chapter! :D

(Heheh, gotta keep the secrets hidden~ It's kinda hard to reply to comments without accidentally revealing things lol)

I'm delighted to meet another Emmet simp! One of the big motivators behind 'I wish for truth' was for Emmet to not be a sad sad angsty depressed boy for once. Hence, him being a mysterious, powered up, bamf lol. I'm so very glad my story was able to provide that break from the *angst* that I myself was looking for.

I'm honoured to have someone so aware of my works! Communication on AO3 is relatively limited and I don't get much feedback aside from what's available on there (and social media ain't really my thing), so it's nice to know that there are people who notice and appreciate. The concept of having fans is still somewhat foreign to me cos all I'm doing is writing stuff... (that's all self-indulgent lolol). (btw, I still haven't shaken my habit of refreshing the Emmet tag on AO3 several times a day)

I will admit that my first moments of being a writer on AO3 were verrry... stalker-y? I'd just look at the profiles of anyone who kudo-ed or bookmarked my stuff, which is probably not that creepy? idk XD (I looove Roxana, she's so cool and gosh the art in that manwha is soooo pretty. Oh, I haven't heard of princess' doll shop! I'll definitely give it a look! Thank you for the rec~)

I don't usually comment on stuff much either (bc I'm kinda bad at doing that). So I'm honoured you decided to leave such a detailed, in-depth comment on my work! Thank youuuuu~♡

Oh, I was wondering if you were almost to the limit on AO3's commenting system. It was quite the essay! :D

Now onto Ingo in Wonderland:

Ohhh, speculations regarding gen5 stuff! Ghetsis and Kyurem and dreams hmm? Interesting thoughts you have there~

We'll just have to wait and see if the mysteries of Wonderland will ever come to light... (I have a lotta lore in my head but it doesn't always get onto the paper/document screen)

Oh, I'm excited to read your thoughts/speculations on the whole memory mess! I'll be waiting here (im)patiently~ (>w<)

Thank you for the ask! A good day to you too!

[aehyei]

hello! for the prompt game, can you do yuta + 'i think i’m falling in love with you'? if it could be a bit angsty but also really fluffy (if that makes sense lmao) it would be awesome :D

𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗚

There are exactly three reasons why you shouldn’t fall for a man named Nakamoto Yuta: (1) he had a reputation of being a cheater. (2) he’s your sister’s ex. (3) he always carries a red flag. 

PAIRING : sister’s ex-boyfriend!yuta x reader

GENRE : angst, fluff, mini crack, slight enemies-to-lovers, college!au

WC : 3.12k

WARNINGS : mentions of cheating, cuss words, yuta is low key an asshole in the story...or is he? 

TAG LIST : @annikae @inupinggu​ @ahtisa02​ @severefireangelprune​ @mastergibbs93​ @ukiyokan​ @changminurheart​ @terjeno @rinyx @pu-nch @mark-wife-renjun-whore @myeowmyeow @cheolsgirl @lilacboba @jenoobies @k1lljoyss @stayzentiny @kkotjia @brookgyu @artgukk @love4keum + fill out this form to be added on my general tag list.

PLAYLIST : (i knew you were trouble • taylor swift), make you mine (acoustic) • public), (perfect two (acoustic) • auburn)

 PROMPT USED : “i think i’m falling in love with you”

AUTHOR’S NOTES : THIS TOOK TOO LONG TO FINISH I AM SO SORRY >_< btw the fic is lowkey related in to jaehyun story ‘New University? It comes with a new crush!’ so check that out too!

“SO YOU’RE TELLING ME YOU PERSONALLY MET THE 127 MEMBERS!?”

You groan in annoyance, staring at Yuri in disbelief. “Yes I did. One of their members used to date my sister. How many times do I even have to say this?”.

“Oh my god! You’re so lucky! Why are the new students always the lucky one?” She whinnied, stomping her feet on the ground as if she was a kid who’s having a tantrum. “I’m not lucky, 127 are jerks. All of them are.” 

“Well how do you know that?!” 

“Nakamoto Yuta cheated on my sister.” You stated, blankly. 

Yuri blinked at you, then covered her mouth in pure shock. “Wait really?! Oh my god, that’s a scandal! 127 boys are known to be the perfect seniors!”. 

“Yuri, I would love to continue gossiping with you, but I’ve got to go. I got to make an important phone call.” You lied, taking the phone out of your jacket’s pocket before letting out a fake smile and turning your heels. “Wait—Y/n! Let’s talk again later!” The older girl shouts from your behind, waving her hand. 

You didn’t even look back, nor did you look forward to even meeting her later. 

“Name?” 

“Jeon Y/n.”

“Age?” 

“17.”

Chunja nods her head while lazily slouching at her seat, “Write your number here, Ms. Jeon.” 

You did as she said and passed her back the pen. Chunja signed your id, “Welcome to NCITY University, hope you enjoy your stay here or whatever.” 

“This isn’t a hotel.” You narrowed your eyes at her and clicked on your tongue, leaning more at the table before snatching the id out of her hands. You walked away to the other side where your first class is without even thanking her.

“She’s creepy.” Jinyoung peaks his head from the corner. “No. She just knows her stuff,” Chunja scowls at her little brother, grabbing a crumbled paper to throw at him, “And don’t you have class?! Be responsible for once and don’t be late!”. 

“Noona, chill! I still have to get my sugarcake to class before I go too. You know, to show how much of a boyfriend material I am?'' Jinyoung smugly says, referring to the new freshmen over a month ago who he has a crush on. “I told you, don’t even bother her—you know what? I’m telling mom.” 

“But Noona! I’m a big boy now!” 

There’s a huge difference between you and your sister and anyone could see it even without glasses. Your sister’s the bubbly type, talkative and adorable, while you’re the complete opposite: quiet and composed. And honestly speaking, when the news of your sister dating spread, you were happy for her at first. You knew how much she always dreamed of having her own love story. 

But when you met Yuta, you instantly saw the red flags. He had tattoos on his arm, ear and belly piercing (don’t ask how you know that), and the way he styled his hair in a comma. He looks like the bad boy that came out of every girl’s dream. You really don’t give a shit or two for bad boys, but there’s something about Yuta that radiates a huge dick energy. 

No, you don’t mean it in a sexual way. You mean it in a way that you know he’s the exact meaning of trouble. 

So just like any other good sister would do, you warned her about Yuta but she kept defending him at all costs. The more she speaks about him with hearts in her eyes, the more you grow to hate her boyfriend. 

“Is that Y/n?” Taeyong lets out a huge shit eating grin seeing you, he puffs his chest and chuckles in surprise. “Oh, Y/n! Long time no see.” Doyoung was no better, his voice sweet enough to fool anybody but his eyes showed something else. 

Oh, another thing you hate about Nakamoto Yuta: his fucking friends. Whenever your sister forces you to come with her to every party 127 throws, there will be no day that they’ll let you live your life down. Hell, you didn’t even really want to spend your college life in NCITY University, knowing all the shittiest boys you know are here, but thanks to your mom, here you are anyways. 

You didn’t give any of the two the blessing of your attention and walked past him, making sure your shoulders bump theirs for good measure. 

“Crazy bitch,” you hear one of them mutter under their breath. You freeze on your tracks, clenching your fists tightly. But instead of punching them in the faces, you continued walking away. 

“Y/n, I don’t know you go here,” Jaehyun’s eyes widened seeing you. “That’s probably because it’s my first day.” You reply coldly, pushing past him too. 

Jaehyun’s the sweetest out of everyone, at least. If the rest are the worst, he’s just bad. 

“Well, well, well, Jeon Y/n.”

Speak of the devil. 

“How’s Somi? Is she doing good?” Yuta asks, leaning his whole body on the wall just beside where you stand to cover your way. “Who even gave you the right to speak her name?” You laugh dryly, poking your tongue in the inside of your right cheek. “Ahhh, I see you never changed. Still overprotective over your little sis? Tell me, Jeon, is she still crying over me?” 

God knows how much you want to break his jaw right now. 

“Get out of my way, Nakamoto and no one gets hurt.” You threatened, stepping a step closer. For a minute, you forgot who you were talking too. But you were reminded that this was Yuta, the cockiest man you ever know, so instead of stepping away, he inched closer. 

“No offense, but I feel like getting threatened by a cupcake.” 

You just have no time for this. 

“Look, just stay away from Somi. Don’t you have a heart? You slept with her own best friend you prick.” 

Yuta narrowed his eyes at you, slowly licking his lips, “That’s what she told you? Huh, Somi, you’re more than I expected.” 

“I don’t care what you expect from her.” You raised both your hands to the air then shook your head, leaving the Japanese man alone in the hallways. Yuta looked down at the floor and noticed an id that may have slipped out of your hands. He tried to glance around to find you, but seeing that you were gone, he decided to pick it up. “Jeon Y/n, not so smart to drop your id where I am.” 

“Where is it? Fuck, where did I put it?” You mumble to yourself, patting all the pockets you have then rummaged inside your backpack. “Hey, it’s past time for freshman’s classes. Are you okay? Do you need help?” A girl who looks older than you asks, kneeling right beside you. 

“No, I’m fine—”

“—I’m Nam Hyunjae, by the way! And you are?” Hyunjae introduces herself with a warm smile, helping you even if she really doesn’t know what you need help with. “I don’t need your help.” You decline, being as polite as you can but you were sure that you sounded rude instead. “No biggie, you’re like the new friend I met last month.” 

You were half impressed at how she didn’t sound offended even if you tried to push her away. Maybe some people are just too kind for this world. 

“I...lost my id.” You admitted, neck and ears flushing out in embarrassment. You couldn’t believe that you just lost the most important thing as a student. Not to mention, but that id also contains your personal information. Whoever took it knows where you live, your number, your name, and your birthdate. 

“That’s awful! Come on, I know the perfect person who could help us!” Hyunjae gasps, then stands up, dusting off her jeans before lending out a hand to help you stand up. You stared at her hand then back at her. “I can stand on my own…uh, thanks.” You say, standing up after.

“Oh yeah, I knew that,” Hyunjae flashes an awkward smile then removes her hand, “anyways, come with me. Chunja works part time for the school, so I think she could help you with your id.”

You followed her to where Hyunjae claims that Chunja always stays on; that's basically on the other side of the whole campus, so you were able to tour yourself around. There was two things you noticed: (1) Hyunjae’s just like your sister—talking and bubbly. (2) This university is fucking huge. You didn’t really listen to half of what she’s talking about as you breathed in the fresh air.

“—That’s Chunja! Chunja! Over here!” Hyunjae calls a familiar looking girl who’s busy texting someone on her phone. Chunja looks up then where the both of you stand and that’s when you realized that she’s the one who made your id in the first place.

“Hyunjae? What are you doing with a freshman? Their class started like 15 minutes ago.” Chunja frowns noticing your figure. You sensed that she really didn’t like your company but not to worry, you also weren’t fond of her either. “Ahh, this freshman lost her id and I thought maybe you could help us find it!” Hyunjae answers her old friend.

“An id is one thing students in NCITY University could not replace. This place has a strict policy about that. No id, no entry; which means this freshman could never enter the campus ever again which also means that i’m not helping at all.”

“Oh come on! Chunja!” Hyunjae whinnies, skipping over to the girls side. “Let it slip for once, it’s a common mistake! Anyone could lose their id.”

“It’s fine, I could talk to the dean—“

“Nonsense! Chunja will help us, she’s really a kind hearted woman. Come on Chunnie…please?”

Chunja’s frown deepens after hearing the nickname Hyunjae called her. She sighed and slipped her phone back into her pocket. “Fine. Just…never call me that again.” She then proceeded to look at you. “First things first, do you know who took it?”.

You shook your head.

“Where did you last see it?”

“I was holding it then after talking with Yuta—oh shit. Oh.” So your id is with that fucker. You inhaled sharply as anger started bubbling deep in your chest. “I’m going to kill that son of a bitch.”

“You know Nakamoto Yuta?” Hyunjae asks, eyes widened. You sighed, “Yes but it’s complicated and I—“.

Hyunjae didn’t really let you finish when she started squealing and jumping up and down like her butt was on fire. Chunja winces and shakes her head disappointedly, “Don’t mind her. She’s always like this when it comes to 127 members.”

“I met a girl named Yuri a while ago and she acted the same thing. Is 127 that popular here or whatever?” You scoffed, not actually believing people love those jerks. “Yuri? Oh to hell with that bitch. She’s bad news—every dirty gossip comes out of her mouth. Yuri can’t keep a secret and tells everyone all the dirt she hears.”

“You actually know Nakamoto Yuta personally!? Oh my god! Oh my god! You’re so lucky!”

You slightly cringed at Hyunjae, giving her an annoyed look. “Knowing that prick isn’t lucky, he’s a normal person to begin with.”

“Prick?” Chunja chuckles. “What did Nakamoto do to you?”.

“Nothing. He had done something to my sister but that’s not the point here. What’s important now is that Yuta has my id and I know he’s not going to give it back to me without anything in exchange.”

“Why don’t we ask him nicely? Oh! Oh! This is a good opportunity to approach 127! Especially Doyoung oppa.” Hyunjae sighs dreamily, literal hearts showing in her eyes. “I’m saying no,” Chunja stares at her and blinks. “I’m saying no too,” you agreed.

Just then, your phone dinged.

unknown: i know you want something back, but listen, i want something too. how about we do a friendly exchange and we’ll both get what we want?

“Who is it?”

You grit your teeth. “Nakamoto.”

“He must’ve gotten your phone number in your id, text him back or something.”

you: what do you want from me yuta?

nakamoto yuta: simple. i want you to understand that i did not cheat on your sister. i’m not that kind of man.

you: go to hell.

nakamoto yuta: oh? no id for you then.

you: fucking bastard.

nakamoto yuta: that’s not nice :(

nakamoto yuta: but you can be nice by meeting me later at 6 at the convenience store near campus. who knows? maybe i will give you back your id <3

You left him on read, exchanging unreadable looks with Chunja. Sure, you hate her, but maybe that’s because she just reminds you of someone who’s like you.

It was too easy to say that you skipped the first day of university but so hard to realize that yourself. You can’t believe you're forced to pull yourself out of class just because your sister’s ex-boyfriend stole your id. And you also couldn’t help but feel bad for Chunja and Hyunjae—your two seniors who also skipped their classes of the day—to help you get your id back.

And to be honest, the two girls were fun to be around with. Hyunjae’s all about sunshine and rainbows while Chunja’s all about the dark and stormy seasons. It’s amusing to see them call themselves friends when they are obviously the opposite of one another. It makes you wonder: why can’t you have friends? Why do you love pushing people away before they could even get close?

“You okay, kid?” Chunja asks you, puffing her cheeks. “Yeah, I-I’m fine,” you didn’t mean to stutter, but thank god that she chose to ignore how distressed you sounded. “So we’re meeting Yuta? As in that hottie? In the convenience store? I think I’m gonna faint.” Hyunjae exclaims, fanning herself with both her hands.

“Well don’t. Yuta isn’t the prince charming you're thinking of.” You grumble.

“No, not at all. He’s the villain, that one hot papi villain.”

You had trouble showing how annoyed you are the more you hear Hyunjae gushing about Yuta. Does no one really know the true colors these boys have? Do they all think they’re the perfect kind of boyfriend?

“Hyunjae, shut it.” Chunja shuts her friend, noticing how uncomfortable you looked. Hyunjae kept her arms up, closing an imaginary zipper on her lips. You sighed heavily, bringing both your hands on your hair before pulling on it’s strands, “Nakamoto Yuta is my younger sister’s ex-boyfriend, and he isn’t the most loyal one.” 

“Oh…my…god…” Hyunja might’ve forgot that she zipped her lips, because in the next second, her jaw dropped. “Well, that took a turn,” Chunja bit her lip, her heart clenching for you, “If you want, I’ll meet him instead and give him a piece of his mind.” 

You chuckle bitterly, shaking your head, “Nah, if someone’s going to beat his ass, that’ll be me.” 

What made you trust these girls easily? They just have something in them that makes you comfortable. You felt warm, welcomed—is this what friendship feels? 

“Well, it’s almost six. The decent thing to do at least is to drop you off at the convenience store.” Chunja wrapped an arm around you, ruffling your hair. For some reason, you were like the little sister she never knew she needed. Don’t get her wrong though, she loves Jinyoung too. You let yourself be dragged, too coped up yourself. 

“Hey, Y/n,” Hyunjae calls, making you humm. She pouts, “I’m sorry for not shutting up about you-know-who, I didn’t know he was a bad person. Your sister didn’t deserve what happened.” You cracked up a smile at this, shrugging, “It wasn’t your fault. Besides, I couldn’t blame you.” 

“Are you saying you find you-know-who and his friends attractive too?” 

“What? No!” 

“Thought you’d never show up,” Yuta says, his eyes scanning the chips area of the convenience store. He didn’t have to look at you to know that you’ve arrived. “My id,” you demanded, making sure he knows you aren’t here to mess around. 

“That fast? Don’t you want to catch up?” Yuta imitates a pout, finally facing you. His grin widens seeing how pissed you are, “I missed you, Y/n.” 

“Sounds like it’s not my problem.” You hissed, blood boiling once again. You want nothing but to slap the cocky smile out of his face. Yuta sighed, leaning his back on the nearby wall, staring at you with hooded eyes, “What made you think it was me who cheated? Did Somi never tell you about the kiss she shared with the guy she met at the club?”. 

“Don’t twist the story, Nakamoto.” 

“I’m not the bad guy here, Y/n. I didn’t cheat on her. But if breaking up with the girl who kissed another guy not just once, but twice, is bad, then maybe I may be a bad boy.” Yuta says, reaching for his pocket to reveal your id. 

“My id!” You yell, a little relieved to see it. You tried to grab it, but Yuta immediately raised your id on the air, making it difficult for you to reach. “Hey! Hand it over, you asshole!” 

“Not until you believe me.” 

“Why the hell will I believe you and not my own sister?” You stand by your ground, not afraid to back out. Even if Yuta’s face was close to yours, you still stubbornly stayed in your place. “Because,” he shrugged, his eyes slowly dropping on your lips before looking back in your eyes, “I’m telling the truth. And one of the things I hate the most is when someone turns their backs on me.” 

You cursed under your breath. If you’re stubborn, so is Yuta. 

“I fucking hate you, Nakamoto. But fine, let’s say I believe you. Now my id?” You grumble, taking a step back to create some space in between the two of you when you accidentally stepped on the wrong side and lost your balance. Yuta immediately wrapped an arm around you, pulling you towards his chest so you wouldn’t fall. 

You both gazed at each other’s widened eyes, mouth opened wide in surprise at what happened. But then Yuta grinned afterwards, a teasing glint in his eyes, “I think I’m falling in love with you, Jeon Y/n.” 

“W-Wha—” 

“Here,” Yuta helps you stand up properly and passes you back your id, “See you at classes tomorrow. I’ll take the word that you believe me.” 

And with that, he left you inside the convenience store still flustered over what happened. 

Wait…what did happen?

© AEHYEI, 2022

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 305: Worst Intervention Ever

Previously on BnHA: Shinomori, whose name took me an entire week to memorize, was all, “nice to meet you Deku, I’m ten feet tall, do you want to know how I died?” and without waiting for an answer explained that he kicked it from old age at forty thanks to good ol’ OFA. Deku was all “wait a minute, then how come All Might, who’s fifty-five and is definitely dyeing his gray hair, is still alive?” First and Shino were all, “we really have no fucking clue but we think it’s cuz he’s quirkless, JUST LIKE YOU!” So basically, since quirkless people don’t exactly grow on trees these days, Deku is probably going to be the last user of OFA. The chapter ended with Nana being all, “psst, Deku, about my grandson. Uh, can you kill him?” which is sure to lead to a very interesting conversation this week.

Today on BnHA: Nana And The Gang are all “so, Deku, how can we put this delicately. The thing is, we’re pretty sure that AFO really fucked my grandson up, so on the off chance you can’t save him, how would you feel about, you know... [throat slitting gesture].” Deku is all “idk you guys, I kinda feel like he’s really just a traumatized child at heart and he’s in a lot of pain and stuff and so I should try to help him.” The Vestiges are all “BUT WHAT IF YOU CAN’T” and Deku is all “BUT I WANT TO TRY, DAMMIT” and the Vestiges are all “well when you put it that way, we, uh, were just testing you, so congrats, you passed!” The chapter ends with First being all, “ANYWAY SO WHY DON’T YOU TWO SHY BOYS STANDING OVER THERE IN THE SHADOWS COME SAY HELLO” before we CUT AWAY FOR ANOTHER WEEK, goddammit.

seriously, Nana

just... have you met Deku?? look, if you really want Tomura dead, just sic him on the U.A. first years and tell Shouto and Honenuki that it’s a training exercise

oh my god lmao

we’re too far away to see Nana’s face here so I will just assume that she turned and is staring DIRECTLY INTO THE CAMERA for this one line lmao. “I just wanted to clarify in case anyone felt inclined to take my dialogue out of context and spend an entire week complaining about it”

oh my god?! are you all purposely trying to make me sad??

someone stop me before I launch into an impromptu rant about all my Tomura feels. WHY IS NOBODY STOPPING ME. oh my god but yes, exactly. he’s just in pain all the time. this is exactly why I think Tomura has such high redemption potential even though so far he seems to lack so many of the redemption arc essentials such as feeling remorse, wanting to change, and taking responsibility for his actions. the reason why I’m willing to overlook all that in his case is because Tomura has essentially had zero agency his entire life. AFO molded him into a killer by making sure he was in constant mental agony, and making it so that the only thing that even slightly relieved that agony was killing peeps. like, please don’t think I’m making excuses for him or anything, but if you take a child and manipulate their existence to make it virtually impossible for that child to grow up as anything other than a killer, and basically never give him the chance to be anything else, then no shit he’s gonna be a killer?? he’s basically never had the choice not to be. it’s never been an option for him. anyways I feel like I am EXPLAINING MYSELF SO BADLY but nonetheless I am prepared to die on this hill

anyway so now Nana is all “that’s a rhetorical question btw because Our Hearts And Minds Are One so we can feel everything you feel bro.” so yeah, that’s interesting

now Banjou is getting started on the “let’s try and talk Deku out of wanting to save Tomura because it’s insane” part of their OFA Mystical Space Void Reunion agenda

look, Banjou, I feel you, I really do. you guys don’t think it’s realistic that Deku can defeat Tomura without killing him. so if it’s a choice between killing Tomura vs letting Deku and everyone else in the entire world die, then duh, you think Deku should kill him. I get it! and if this were a real life mass murderer I’d totally agree with you. but the problem is that this isn’t real life, this is a sympathetic shounen villain with a tragic past who might as well have FUTURE REDEMPTION ARC RECEIPIENT stamped on his forehead at this point

so First is all “look, there’s absolutely no doubt my brother has fucked this kid up good and proper by now”, which, again, fair

though, that’s kind of exactly my point though. everything that Tomura is, everything he’s done, he’s done because of AFO. AFO has so effectively shaped his personality and his worldview by this point that it’s all but impossible to penetrate that. he’s AFO’s puppet. but the problem is that rather than treating him like a victim, you all are treating him like a casualty. like he’s already a lost cause. but good luck trying to convince Deku of that

WHOA WHAT, RANDOM SUPER-IMPORTANT AND BIZARRELY UNRELATED EXPOSITION DROPPED IN JUST LIKE THAT??

way to still not reveal Sixth’s name, btw. THE PEOPLE WANT TO KNOW, DAMMIT. but also so this confirms something we basically already knew already, which is that not even AFO can steal OFA. it literally can’t be taken away by anyone unless the owner wills it. SO SUCK ON THAT AFO YOU EGG

(ETA: so I have no idea why this was omitted from this translation, but apparently the Sixth’s name was revealed as “En”, which is obviously not his full name but at least it’s something. also he most likely has a fire or smoke-related quirk based on the kanji used, 煙.)

so Banjou is saying that Deku’s “lack of an iron will” could be a disadvantage against AFO. hahaha what?? Midoriya “I’ll break all of my bones without blinking an eye just to protect someone” Izuku lacks an iron will? do tell

he says this is going to be a test of Deku’s determination. well yeah, no shit. but just not in the way you guys think

OH HELLO AGAIN

darker hair again here! but I don’t trust the contrast in these scans at all after last week. his coveralls are way darker than they looked before too, and you can clearly see he’s standing in the shadows now

(ETA: yep, once again the raw shows that his hair is considerably lighter than what’s shown in these scans here. although there’s no mistaking now that his hair is consistently being colored in this slightly darker shade, and it’s not just the lighting.)

anyways lol First was saying something about how AFO can’t steal OFA, and they’ve spent all this time cultivating it as the ultimate weapon against AFO, and blah blah blah. go on then, keep lecturing

NANA GODDAMMIT NONE OF THIS IS YOUR FAULT

girl what?? you did everything in your power to protect your family, and AFO, fucked up man that he is, targeted them anyway. there is one person and one person only to blame for what’s happened to Tomura, and that potato-faced asshole needs a good kick in the balls

NANA GODDAMMIT DON’T MAKE ME COME OVER THERE

SO HELP ME GOD!! I WILL GIVE YOU THE BIGGEST HUG YOU’VE EVER HAD!! THAT IS A THREAT

so now Nana is all “I’m just going to call my grandson a Thing to ensure that fandom has only the freshest, grass-fed no-hormones-added discourse this week”

I don’t even need to drop into the tags to know exactly which specific people are going to respond to this, and what kind of posts they are going to write lmao. everyone’s all caught up in the “that thing”, and meanwhile I’m over here completely hung up on this “nay” that’s appeared out of NOWHERE you guys. look at that. she really said “NAY”

Nana, my love, my dearest, I feel you girl I really do. but he’s not an unforgivable manifestation of pure evil, Deku is exactly right actually, he’s a boy in pain. you guys need to stop questioning Deku’s shounen protagonist instincts here and just let him work his sparkly magic. “let’s try and convince Midoriya Fucking Izuku that he can’t save someone” is a plan that is NEVER going to turn out well you guys

“DEKU GODDAMMIT WHAT IF WE CAN’T SAVE HIM” lmao it’s like an intervention

“DAMMIT DEKU JUST ADMIT YOU HAVE A SAVING PEOPLE PROBLEM!”

RED ALERT IT’S ANOTHER CLOSE-UP OF THE BACK OF MISTER TWO BON CLAY’S HEAD OMG

(ETA: I was too distracted with freaking out about Two and Three to really appreciate how ridiculously handsome First looks in this panel. but on my second readthrough it stood out so much that I had to go back and add an extra bullet point just to talk about how hot he is. look at him. wtf.)

THAT IS DEFINITELY AN UNDERCUT. THE PLOT THICKENSSSS. also those are fucking exhaust vents on Mister Three’s neck. MISTER THREE COULD YOU POSSIBLY BE RELATED TO THE IIDAS, PLEASE TELL ME YOUR SECRETS I’M DYING OVER HERE

so now Deku is launching into what will undoubtedly be a “saving people problems require SAVING PEOPLE SOLUTIONS” heroic counter-speech!

I mean, they can already feel the “lol nah I’m gonna try and save him” feelings running through him lol. ~OuR hEaRtS aNd MiNdS aRe CoNnEcTeD~ and all that. this is just a formality, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love a good shounen protag speech

oh wait hold up, do you mean to tell me that the whole “hearts and minds are connected” thing I was just mocking just a paragraph ago actually allowed Deku to feel what Tomura was feeling?? like literally feel it??

YET AGAIN these Tomura feels are pounding on my front door you guys?? they just will not quit?? people my house is already full of feels, does it look like I need you to sell me any more of them?? -- what do you mean, they’re free??

AW YISS THAT’S IT DEKU. THAT’S SOME GOOD SPEECH RIGHT THERE

I appreciate the contrast here between the Douchebag Triumvirate of Overhaul, Muscular, and Stain versus the Misguided Twosome of Gentle and La Brava. never let it be said that Deku doesn’t know the difference between a redeemable villain and an unredeemable one

OH NO -- OH MY GOD

someone please help me I need directions to the OFA Spooky Galactic Nebula Realm in this fictional Japanese manga land. it’s not on google maps. I need to give these two babies a big hug and wrap them up in a blanket and treat them to some McDonalds Happy Meals please help

other things: (1) ENDEAVOR CHILLING OUT IN DEKU’S “PEOPLE I HOLD DEAR” PANEL LMAO NEON DISCOURSE EXTRAVAGANZA, (2) “ONE FOR ALL IS A POWER TO SAVE, NOT TO KILL” I’M ABOUT TO CRY DEKU I LOVE YOU SO MUCH HOW IS IT EVEN POSSIBLE TO FEEL ALL THIS LOVE, (3) [SLAMS HANDS ON TABLE] THERE’S YOUR MOTHERFUCKING IRON WILL!!!!!!!! -- I’m sorry, please don’t call security, I’ll be good

I just randomly remembered that Deku is still saying all of this in his muffled “FMMPHHMMPHMM” voice and I’m somehow cracking up lol. so actually it’s a very good thing Their Hearts And Minds Are Connected, otherwise they’d no doubt be all, “...what?”

(ETA: so I completely missed this on account of it literally not being visible in the scan at all, but in the raw you can clearly see Baby Kacchan and Baby Shouto fanboying over All Might in two of these panels, and excuse me, ma’am??

thank you very much Deku for including them in your montage, particularly since you’ve never seen Baby Shouto before lol. amazingly accurate image you managed to conjure up, all things considered.)

SDKFJLSKHG -- AS IF ON CUE???

HE’S SO ADORABLE HELP?? Trippy Space All Might looks like he’s about to cry, and First is all “don’t crack a smile... you have to be Firm and Serious here... dammit, don’t smile” omg

anyways! YOU GO DEKU. “MY QUIRK MY RULES, BITCHES” damn, son

KLJLKKHLG TRIPPY SPACE ALL MIGHT LITERALLY ACTUALLY IS CRYING ALL MIGHT HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME

“I JUST... [CLENCHES FIST] REALLY LOVE SAVING PEOPLE” FUCKING HELL LMAO THIS IS THE WORST INTERVENTION OF ALL TIME

Deku is literally all “sure, maybe I’ll have to kill him, but have you guys also considered, MAYBE NOT??” it’s no use Nana he’s too powerful

LMAO FIRST

“like I’ve been saying this whole time, you should definitely try saving Shigaraki Tomura.” “but, uh... First, didn’t you just -- ” “shut up”

(ETA: clearly it’s not just his brother who inherited those smooth-talking genes.)

so now Deku has turned back into a sixteen year old and his clothes have gone missing again. just OFA things

dskljdlsklgk

yes... sure... “testing” you...

HEY

FIRST OF ALL, DAMN YOU HORIKOSHI YOU MADE NANA CRY. even if I’m pretty sure they’re actually tears of happiness/relief. and SECOND OF ALL, “TELL MY BOYFRIEND I SAID HI” DJSKDLKJJL ANYWAY MAYBE GRAN, NANA, AND MR. SHIMURA WERE IN A THROUPLE

[SCREAMS]

WHY WOULD YOU END IT THERE?? WHY WOULD YOU END IT THERE!!!!!

(ETA: and two-to-one odds that we cut away to some other scene once they finally start to turn around next week. I’M CALLING IT NOW. giving myself a week to brace myself for the rage.)

fucking hell. well if anyone needs me I will be adding Horikoshi fucking Kouhei to the list of irredeemable villains, peace

[nugnthopkns]

i wish i could disappear

word count: 3.6k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, cursing, feelings of anxiety due to social media harassment, invasion of privacy that border on stalking

recommended listening: brutal | olivia rodrigo

series masterpost: here

a/n: and we're off to the races!! i love this album and olivia so much. there's a shoutout to goon by tobias jesso jr. in here bc it's my favourite album to cry to lmao (highly recommend giving it a listen!). i'm on the fence about this one but am posting it anyways because i don't think i can make it any better

How the fuck do people find your social media?

All of your accounts are private and Kevin makes sure to never tag you on the rare occasion he posts a picture of the two of you together. The wives and girlfriends who have public accounts make sure to never post about you, and you’re careful not to comment on posts often. You’re a private person and though you understand that due to the nature of your relationship with Kevin you intrigue some fans, you don’t want to give them more than you have to.

Despite making no attempt to open up to the public or media, every day you wake up with hundreds of follow requests from complete strangers. At first it was a little exciting knowing that people were curious about your life but after years of the same routine it’s become draining. It takes you nearly twenty minutes each day to weed through them and accept only the people you know personally. Kevin doesn’t actually know how many people want to catch a glimpse of your daily life because you do your best to keep it from him. Knowing would only bring him stress, and you want him to be able to focus on winning games and loving you with his entire heart.

☼☼☼☼

The phone on your desk rings loudly, pulling your attention away from the computer screen that has way too many numbers on it for your liking. The finance department needed someone to proof their audit before sending it away and since you’re the only one in human relations that has a business degree the job landed on your shoulders. Eager to take a break, you pick it up and press the receiver against your ear.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other side laughs gently, but you immediately know it’s Kevin. “Hi sweetheart,” he says warmly, “How’s work?”

“Fine I guess. It’s work, Kev. Nothing terribly exciting happens here,” you explain but continue to fill him in on all the coffee pot gossip you got this morning. Kevin listens as you complain about forgetting your lunch on the counter and chuckles at how upset the situation makes you.

“What if I told you I’m outside your window with a burrito bowl?”

Excited at the possibility of seeing your boyfriend before dinnertime, you whip towards the window and spot Kevin on the sidewalk, waving like an idiot despite knowing your office is on the fifth floor. You hang up quickly after telling him you’ll be down in two minutes and let the receptionist know you’re stepping out for lunch. There’s a line for the elevator so you head to the stairwell, taking them two at a time in your haste. You’re crossing the street to the small park where Kevin has set up a picnic before your co-workers are even out the door.

You plop down on the blanket beside Kevin and lean into him. He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead before passing you the food he brought. You take a bite, sighing at the taste. Kevin knows you better than you know yourself and knew exactly what to get that would satisfy your mounting hunger.

“Thanks babe,” you smile, holding up your fork and offering him a bite. He takes it graciously but makes a face. “What’s the matter?” you laugh as you take the utensil back.

“I fucking hate avocado.”

The two of you eat in relative silence, speaking only when you remember a detail from your morning. Kevin tells you about the drills he’s going to lead at practice in the afternoon and what he plans on cooking for dinner since he’ll be home before you. You insist you can whip something up when you get home but Kevin shakes his head. He reminds you that relationships are give and take, and that you’ve made dinner the past three nights because he had a string of games. You manage to reach a compromise that has you doing the dishes before you have to return to work.

Kevin insists on walking you back to your office even though you protest vehemently. Your relationship is far from secret, and has been the topic of workplace gossip more times than you can count, but after five years you’ve learned to ignore most of it. However, you don’t want your co-workers to think you flaunt your NHL player boyfriend to prove you’re better than them. They all love Kevin, and a couple of them congratulate him on last night’s goal as he follows you down the hall. A few of the newer hires stare in awe and shake his hand, completely blown away that one of Philadelphia’s biggest stars is asking how they like their jobs.

“Pretty soon they’re going to approach you to do PR for us,” you chuckle as you flip the light on and close the door of your office.

His laughter echoes off the walls as a pair of strong arms find a home around your waist. “It would be kind of fun to hear myself crush those radio commercials.”

“Since when do you listen to the radio?”

“Checkmate,” Kevin sighs, pulling you closer. He kisses you quickly, not wanting to give a show to anyone who could be walking past, but it still sends you reeling. You don’t want him to pull away and kiss him again.

You get your way for a few more moments and then Kevin’s leaving with a promise to not burn the house down and wishes for a good rest of the day. Focussed on giving the audit its final once-over you don’t bother pulling your phone from the drawer you had placed it in when you got to work that morning. You turn up the small radio at the corner of your desk and get to work scanning the document for errors. There’s a mistake halfway through that skews the rest of the data and fixing it takes a bit of time, but it isn’t a huge deal. You have nothing else to do except answer a few emails and organize meetings for after the weekend.

An hour or so later you’ve completed all your tasks and debate what to do. It’s too early to leave for the day, so you decide to kill time by checking your phone. You’re expecting a few notifications, perhaps two or three memes in the group chat you share with your friends, but not the hundreds that greet you.

The majority of them are instagram notifications, and assuming they’re just more fans requesting a follow you ignore them, instead heading to your text messages. There’s a picture from Kevin of a dog he found walking home and another from your mom asking why you haven’t called home in a few weeks. However the one from Claude’s wife is the one that piques your curiosity.

Just a heads up that someone posted a pic of you and Kev to one of those stupid wag pages. I filed a request for Instagram to take it down but it’s gotten a lot of traction. Sorry :((

Your heartbeat increases rapidly and a million thoughts fly through your head at a rapid speed. Fingers shaking, you respond with a thanks and open up the dreaded app. You don’t see it immediately, your feed being full of photos belonging to friends and family, but it’s in your messages almost two hundred times. Many of them have text attached and you know there will be a comment about your relationship regardless of which one you open.

Tapping on the most recent message you brace yourself for the worst. The new window opens a photo someone took of you and Kevin while eating lunch in the park across from your office not even three hours prior. It’s grainy and the camera angle is strange, but you’re eating and Kevin is looking somewhere out of frame. The accompanying caption reads Kev and his girlfriend out for lunch today! Follow @philllywagupdates for more :).

You let out a sigh of relief – it could have been a lot worse. Personal pictures of yourself have made it onto pages like that before and most of them they’re paired with mean-spirited captions about your appearance or other trivial matters. Assuming you’re in the clear, you head back to the page of the original message to thank the person for bringing the post to your attention. However, the message accompanying the post is anything but positive.

He can’t even fucking look at you. It’s only a matter of time before he leaves you

The blood in your veins runs cold. You know it’s not true – Kevin’s made it clear you’re the one and truthfully you’re just waiting for a ring – but it doesn’t stop the sting you feel. What could possess someone to say such horrible things? You decide not to respond despite, possibly opening another can of worms with the seen function, and close the app. Leaning back in your office chair you focus on anything but your phone, looking out the window at passersby while regaining your breath. It works for a while, but eventually not knowing what others said eats away at you. You go through every single message to see hundreds of similar comments to the first, with only a few saying they’re glad you’re happy or how posting the picture is a violation of your privacy.

By the time you’re finished your spirit has been crushed. However, it’s also an acceptable time to start the weekend – at least no one in the office will have to see you cry. Things are hastily packed into your bag and you wave a few quick goodbyes before once again taking the stairs. You curse yourself for deciding to walk to work that morning and set off in the direction of home wiping away tears. The last thing you need right now is for someone to recognize you, but you have to get home. Tobias Jesso Jr plays at much too loud a volume through your headphones and Kevin will most certainly remind you it’s bad for your hearing, but the melancholy piano riffs of Goon overpower the thoughts swirling around your head.

Do people really feel that way about me?

Are my friends just too nice to stop inviting me places?

Does Kevin really feel trapped?

Hundreds of similar sentiments and situations cross your mind as you stumble through the streets of downtown Philadelphia, but you force them as far back as possible before opening the door to the apartment you share with Kevin. Hoping to slip inside undetected, you take your shoes off slowly and throw your jacket on the end table instead of hanging it in the closet. Your plan fails somehow and Kevin hears you, greeting you in a goofy apron covered in flour.

“Hey sweetheart,” he smiles, but it drops once your eyes meet and he sees the hurt on your face. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing,” you insist, trying to step around him in pursuit of the bathroom.

Kevin doesn’t buy it and sees right through your feeble words. “It’s not nothing if you’re this upset. If you don’t want to talk now that’s fine, but I think you should get it off your chest.”

You know he’s right, but you also know you can’t tell him the true cause of your despair. “Just some work stuff,” you sigh. “The audit got all fucked up and I had to fix it even though it’s not my job.”

It’s not technically a lie, which makes you feel better, and Kevin buys it. He presses a sweet kiss to your lips in sympathy. “Go take a shower and the gnocchi should be ready by the time you’re done. We can spend the night cuddling on the couch.”

“And watching Selling Sunset?”

“We can watch whatever you want sweetheart,” he chuckles. You part from him with a final kiss and head to the bathroom. Hopefully the steam from the water will carry away the negativity brought on by that damn post.

☼☼☼☼

Time passes but the hateful comments on social media don’t stop. In fact, you’re pretty sure they get worse. It’s so bad that you’ve deleted every app except facebook because you need it for work. Kevin doesn’t notice your abstinence from social media, but he picks up on how you spend more time criticizing yourself or staring off into space. When he pushes you either brush him off or feed some bullshit excuse about how work is getting you down. You know he doesn’t believe you but trusts you enough to come to him when you’re ready to talk.

You aren’t sure if you’ll ever be able to tell Kevin what’s been going on. There’s been scrutiny from social media before, when you first started dating, but it quieted down after the initial media frenzy. He helped you through that but it’s different this time around. Never before have you had strangers tell you your life is worthless or that your boyfriend should end your relationship. Some of the other wags notice your absence on instagram but chalk it up to you just taking a break. They reach out via the group chat and send wishes to see you at the next home game. It’s nice to know they care, but the voice in your head that has grown much larger in recent weeks tells you they don’t truly mean it. This leads you to decline the invite as politely as possible, citing extended work hours for your absence. In reality you’re too anxious to be anywhere that isn’t home or work, petrified someone is going to post something that will add fuel to the flames of those who interrogate you.

It’s another Friday afternoon, and you’re leaving the office early once again. There’s a small craft exhibition taking place around the corner from work and today is the last day it’s open. You had been meaning to go all week, hoping to find something small to add to Kevin’s birthday gift. As you step out of the building there’s a small group of young women, who don’t look old enough to have graduated college, standing off to the side. It fills you with dread, worried that somehow someone found out where you work and the insults are going to start occurring verbally, but you force yourself to be rational. You work fairly close to one of the artsier districts in the city and it’s more than likely they just want to find a cute mural to take pictures in front of.

You pass by and swear you hear them snicker, but you remind yourself you’ve just been jumpy lately. When they peel from their place on the wall and follow behind at a distance you think the coincidences are running out. It seems a little too strange how their movements line up with yours, and you go down a few winding side streets in an attempt to lose them. Part of you feels ridiculous because what group of barely legal girls would track a full-blown adult around a city of nearly two million people, but your life is currently strange enough you can’t be sure. They don’t follow you, and by the time you reach the market your heart rate has returned to normal.

The first few stalls have little to catch your eye, but a few rows in you find a leatherworker who makes adorable wallets. Kevin’s is ridiculously old and falling apart at the seams – his mom bought it for him before the two of you got together. You think a new one will make a perfect addition to the concert tickets you already bought and browse the table for something simple and elegant. A deep brown one with tan braiding around the edges catches your eye and you know it’s the one for Kevin. Checking the price to make sure you have enough cash in your wallet, you approach the shop owner to purchase. The older man has a kind smile that reaches his eyes as he thanks you for purchasing from him.

“No, thank you for making something so beautiful!” you gush. “My boyfriend is going to love it.”

It’s then you hear it – snickering accompanied by the click of a camera. You look over your shoulder to see the same group of girls from before laughing as they huddle over a cell phone, no doubt already starting to broadcast the photo across the internet. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. Those girls don’t deserve to see their mission accomplished, but the longer they laugh at you the harder it is to swallow your feelings.

Head held high, you thank the owner one more time before holding your head high and walking past the group. The only way out is past them so you hold your breath and pray they don’t notice you. Unfortunately you aren’t that lucky, and one of them looks up just as you come into earshot.

“If Kevin doesn’t leave you after that sorry excuse for a gift I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” she sneers.

Another one chimes in, “You’re honestly so pathetic.” They all cackle in amusement, and you speed up. The tears flow freely now, and you call an uber even though it will be a ridiculous amount of money. You just want to get home.

The uber driver doesn’t say anything when you get in, though you know it’s strange to be bawling your eyes out at four in the afternoon. You can’t help it – weeks of keeping all the hate to yourself finally got to you and being followed with the sole intent of ridicule is the final straw. At one red light he silently passes you a box of tissues, which you accept gratefully.

Luckily the lobby of your apartment complex is empty and you manage to get to your floor without encountering a familiar face. There’s a few hours until Kevin gets home from his final roadtrip of the season, and if you play your cards right you can get all the tears out and be as normal as possible before he comes through the door. You don’t even bother to put anything away, just head straight to the bathroom to slump against the tub. Sobs rack your body and you lose all sense of time. All you can feel is the hurt you’ve been holding in releasing itself and soaking the material of your blouse.

Kevin finds you laying in the position hours later. He tripped over your shoes coming in the door and immediately knew something was wrong – you always place them neatly on the rack in the closet upon arriving home. Peering through the quiet house for a hint at where you are, he sees the bathroom light on and makes a beeline for the room. It breaks his heart to see you like this, and even more so because he doesn’t know what spurred it on.

“Sweetheart, hey,” he coos, maneuvering his body to sit beside you and pull you into his lap. “What’s the matter?”

You bury your head in his shoulder and clutch the material of his dress shirt as you cry harder at the sound of his voice. Kevin takes your reaction in stride, rubbing circles on your back and working on evening out your breath. He doesn’t pressure you to speak and provides the stability you desperately crave as the world around you spins. An unknown amount of time passes before your tears run out, but spend it all on the bathroom floor curled into Kevin.

“I guess I should have told you sooner,” you mumble, “But I didn’t want to bother you.”

Concern laces Kevin’s features and his eyebrows knit together. “Tell me what?”

“I, uh, have been the subject of some internet hate for the past little bit,” you say sheepishly. It feels stupid to not have told him now, but you can’t change that. “But you were really busy with the season and I wanted to make sure your head was completely focused on the game so I just dealt with it myself. I deleted the apps and tried my best to go about my life. And then today after work I was followed by some people and they said some really hurtful stuff and shit became a little too real.”

“I’m so fucking sorry.”

It’s your turn to be confused. “Why are you sorry Kev? You're Not the one sending me death threats.”

He tucks a loose strand of hair back into your ponytail. “Maybe not, but I still made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about what was going on. What kind of partner am I?”

“The best one,” you say confidently. “It’s okay, I’m okay. I just want to forget about it right now. Can we just disappear for a little bit?”

Kevin wraps his arms around you tighter, as if he can engulf you to protect from the cruel outside world. “We can do whatever you want. If you want to get out of the city for a bit if you want, or just spend the next few days here away from prying eyes.”

“I love you.”

You say it because you mean it, and if you could scream it from the rooftops you would. Kevin is incredibly easy to love, even when you make it difficult for him to love you back. You know another much longer conversation is coming about everything that has happened recently because communication is the only way to solve problems and Kevin deserves that, but you’re thankful he’s willing to put it to rest for a few more moments.

He cracks a smile for the first time since he’s been home and kisses the crown of your head. “I love you too sweetheart,” he whispers, “Always and forever.”

Things are far from over and though you still never want to show your face in public ever again, you know that Kevin is going to do whatever he can to make things better and that’s enough for you.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @ricohenrique @tortito @boqvistsbabe @iwantahockeyhimbo @himbos-on-ice @2manytabsopen if you want to be added just shoot me an ask :)

[yee-fxcking-haw]

Hey, I saw you asking for request in the Yandere Dabi tag? So, how about Hawks gifting Dabi y/n for Christmas? There is perfect image for that too. I will add the blog where it is in the post.

Y'all have the most brilliant brains I swear.

•Regifting•

Warnings: Yandere Hawks, hinting of kidnapping, grooming themes, mild dubcon, major sexual tension, Daddy Keigo, Sub Dabi, Sub reader.

Pairing: Hawks x Reader x Dabi (brief Dabi x Hawks)

A/N: LMAO my brain took OFF with this shit. There's gonna be a part two. Lemme know if you want tagged.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Oh angel, you look perfect." Keigo coos down at you as you kneel between his legs. His lean body is clad in all black, well tailored slacks and a handsome button up.

He's reclined on the couch, knees spread apart as he watches you present yourself in the outfit he laid out for you.

It's very simple, very sweet. All skimpy and silky, hugging your curves and perking your tits.

"He's going to love you." His eyes light up as he shifts upright, wings spreading wide behind him.

His words make you squirm, desperate to please, to impress.

Keigo had spent so much time taming you, working his ass off to get you so compliant. You were a rotten little thing we he first brought you home. Always fighting, always running away, always crying.

It took time, patience, and so much punishment, but he finally broke you. It was a beautiful process too, watching you crumble, watching you buckle and submit.

Now you're perfect, so sweet and willing and obedient. A wonderful gift, a sufficient offering.

Your shaking hands hold out some ribbons and a bow, a curious look on your face as you blink up at him.

"I didn't know what to do with these, I'm sorry..." Your voice is quiet, timid, weary of offending Keigo. He could be so _mean _ when you disappoint him.

"I'll help you, don't worry sweetheart." His voice is soft as he takes the material from your hands, it makes your shoulder relax, thankful for his unending patience with you.

Slowly, he winds the soft fabric around your body, tying it around your waist in a large bow. He leans back and admires you for a moment, rubbing his hand over his jaw as he contemplates his work.

"D-do I look ok?" You ask with a timid voice.

He sighs before using his knuckles to tilt your chin upwards.

"I told you, you look perfect, pay attention." His voice is firm, but not enough to set you on edge.

You fold your hands in your lap and nod quickly.

"I'm sorry, Sir." You mutter as your eyes flicker down.

He relaxes into the couch again, and you see him pat his thigh out of your peripheral vision. You quickly hop to your feet so you can crawl into his lap. You let him sling your legs over his strong thighs so he can cradle you against him, one arm looped around your waist while the other brushes some hair from your face.

"Listen to me, little bird." Now his voice is the tone that sets you on edge.

You perk up and look him in the eyes, waiting attentively for his next words.

"I have a very special friend coming over, I'm going to share you with him, as a Christmas present, ok?" He raises his fluffy blonde eyebrows, waiting for your reaction.

"Daddy... What does that mean?" Your hands wander up to the collar of his shirt.

"It means he's going to play with you the way I do, and you're going to be a good girl for him like you are for me." His words cast a spell on you, filling you to the brim with curiosity.

"Will I call him Daddy too?" You wonder, a little displeased with the idea of calling anyone but Keigo by that name.

"No, you'll call him 'Sir', I'm your Daddy, nobody else. Do you understand?" He reaches down to squeeze your thigh, a warning.

"Yes Daddy, I was just making sure, I'm sorry."

How could he be mad when you apologise so sweetly, so honestly?

He hums at you, proud of the sweet little darling you've become, all because of his hard work. He brings his hand up to his face, tapping his cheek with his pointer and middle finger.

You lean up and press a small kiss on the spot, batting your lashes at him when he smiles at your well trained response.

"He's going to be mean to you. Much meaner than me, but it's going to be ok. I'll be here after."

Ice settles in your gut, you want to ask him what will happen, you want to ask if it will hurt. Then there's a knock at the door and Keigo stiffens under you.

He grabs your jaw, eyes burning into you.

"Wait on your knees by the tree." His voice is so low, so serious.

You scramble off of his lap and scamper over to the Christmas tree, settling to your knees with your hands on top of your thighs. Just like he likes.

You want to tug at your clothes, fuss with your hair and adjust your legs, but you know better. He told you to wait, which means be still.

Keigo walks over to the door, casting one quick glance back at you to make sure you're situated as he directed. When he sees that you're in order, he nods once before opening the door.

The man standing on the other side is nothing short of terrifying. He's a mess of scars, staples, and wild black hair. Vibrant, blue eyes lock on your form immediately as Keigo welcomes him in.

He's got a few inches on Keigo height wise, but he's much thinner. He strides into your home lazily and silently, hands in the pockets of his billowy coat. You remember quickly how rude it is to stare, and direct your gaze to your lap as he draws closer.

"Well, you sure as hell weren't lyin' about her being pretty." His voice is like fine gravel, rolling out of his mouth in a low, menacing tone.

You watch their feet as they walk towards you until they stand on either side of you. His boots are thick and dirty, made of abused leather. They're a harsh contrast next to Keigo's shiney, clean dress shoes.

"Eyes up here." Keigo's voice washes over you, you obey immediately, looking up at him.

"Oh she listens." The friend sighs, shifting on his feet a little.

Keigo crosses his arms before speaking, you don't break eye contact with him for even a second, waiting for permission.

"Hey there, doll, name's Dabi." He sounds nice, playful even.

"Say hello to our guest, dove." With Keigo's consent, you turn to Dabi and offer him a sweet smile.

You whisper a soft "hi" to Dabi, captured in his turquoise eyes.

"So fucking sweet." He says, mostly to himself.

"Have a seat." Keigo says, almost shortly. You know he's not talking to you.

Dabi chuckles before waltzing over to the seat himself on the couch.

"So serious tonight, Birdie." He sighs as he reclines, his hungry eyes stay locked on your kneeling form.

Keigo walks around to the back of the couch, bracing his arms on the edge directly behind Dabi. Your chest clenches under the pressure of both of their greedy eyes, thumbs worrying at each other in your lap.

Dabi pats his lap just like Keigo did a few moments ago, a sick smile spreads across his marred face. You immediately look to Keigo, who nods shortly towards Dabi's lap.

"Come sit." He commands.

"Yes Daddy." You lift yourself to your feet and pad over to the stranger, timidly settling down onto his lap. He feels so _different, _so harsh and rough, nothing like the soft warmth of Keigo. He thumbs at the bow around your waist, snickering to himself when you jump as his hand skims over your skin.

"'Yes Daddy?' Do I get one of those?" Dabi asks as you situate yourself. He smells like smoke and alcohol, and something you can't quite identify, it's something strong and sharp, stinging your nostrils.

You shake your head when you hear Keigo breathe in sharply.

"Daddy said I can call you 'Sir'." You say quietly.

Your eyes wander over his scared hands, fixating on the staples that appear to hold the warped, purple flesh to the pale, healthy skin.

"Oh Keigo, you've out done yourself." Dabi's hand runs up the inside of your thigh, stopping when he feels you squeeze them together.

"Don't be nervous, doll, I'm gonna make you feel real good." His voice makes your insides ache, and not in the good way that Keigo's does.

You blink up at him, noticing how closely he's holding his wings to his body, how tense his shoulders are, how narrow his pupils have become.

"What's wrong, Angel?" Keigo asks reaching around his guest to grab your jaw.

"He's sc-scaring me a little." You squeak out.

This makes Dabi laugh low and dangerous, Keigo let's go of your jaw in favor of grabbing his friend by the hair on top of his head. He cranks Dabi's head back, earning a choked sound from the him. The hand on your thigh squeezes you firmly as he sneers up at Keigo.

"He's nothing to be scared of, sweet thing, he has to listen to me as much as you do. Ain't that right?" He leans down to Dabi, a challenging look flashing in his amber eyes.

"Of course, Birdie." Dabi relents with a venomous tone.

"Your Daddy would kill me if I hurt you, you've got nothin' to be scared of." Dabi flashes you a cheshire smile one Keigo releases his hair. It puts you at ease, watching Keigo exercise so much control over his intimidating friend.

"I'm sure he warned you that I can be a little mean, you'll like it though, I promise."

Before Dabi can speak again, Keigo's hand is around his throat, the action making you and Dabi freeze immediately.

"No marks on her, Dabi." His words are final, dripping with authority and power.

"Aw, come on, just one bite?" Dabi teases, licking his teeth like an animal.

Your blood freezes when you watch Keigo's grip tighten around Dabi's throat, astounded at his bravery. Dabi's smile fades, suddenly crumbling under Keigo's harsh gaze.

"You haven't even thanked me for your present, and you're already mouthing off. Sounds like somebody doesn't want to get their dick wet." Keigo says, biting off his words as he leans closer to Dabi's face.

"Thank you, Daddy, I'm sorry." Dabi chokes out.

You're utterly shocked, nearly trembling as you watch Keigo work his magic, subduing even this monster of a man.

"Good boy." Keigo leans down and presses his lips to Dabi's, making your jaw drop.

It should make you jealous, it should make you insecure. But they're both so greedy with each other, so wreckless. It makes your skin run hot and your core ache. Your hips wiggle against Dabi's leg involuntarily, capturing his attention immediately.

He breaks from the kiss so he can look at you, florescent eyes raking down your body.

"This desperate little thing wants to have some fun, should we play with her some?" Dabi asks, looking up at Keigo expectantly.

Keigo looks at you with ravenous eyes, body poised as his wings flutter slightly.

"As long as you both listen, you can have all the fun you want." Keigo says calmly, standing up before rolling his shoulders back as he walks around the couch to stand before the both of you.

"Will you be good for me?" He asks.

"Yes Daddy." You and Dabi say it in unison, bodies tensing. You feel something twitch under your thighs, causing a heated blush to spread across your cheeks.

Keigo smiles, wide and brilliant. He cracks his knuckles slowly before reaching up to begin the process of unbuttoning his shirt.

"I love it when you're good for me." He says it to both of you, emitting all the confidence in the world as he strolls closer to your feverish bodies.

You're in for it and you know it, but you're buzzing with anticipation. Ready and willing to be the perfect little gift for your new friend.

[nostalgiabones]

The Story of Us // C.H

It feels like SO LONG since I last posted any writing! Here is the second instalment of the Song Series for my last follow milestone (which I announced and then just didn’t write for 2 months😳). I had a moment at 2am where everything fell into place with this fic and I was screaming about it to @calumrose lmao. It’s taken a long time but I’m so happy with how this has turned out and I LOVE the concept of this song so much. I’d love to know what you think!

Song: The Story of Us — Taylor Swift

Word count: 5.1k

Tapping your fingernails on the counter, your eyes search around the busy kitchen for a familiar face – one to ease the anxiety of the first party you’ve attended for longer than you can remember. The kitchen gives you more space to breathe than the garden you fought your way through to get to the house, greeting smiles and quick ‘hellos’ to friends you haven’t seen for a while. There’s one friend in particular you’re expecting to see, yet a part of you doesn’t want to.

“Hey, you made it!”

The voice of a close friend fills your ears over the pounding of the bass from the speaker in the lounge, pumping the whole house (and possibly, the whole street) with music. You can tell Ashton has already taken over the playlist, old classic rock songs being the common theme so far. The counter is already sticky with alcohol. It was one of these parties where you first met Calum – in his true drunk state, he had spilt a drink over your shoes, and spent the remainder of the night trying to make it up to you. He apologised any chance he got, no matter how much you reassured him it was okay and insisted on giving you his number so he could ‘apologise again when he was sober.’ He had done, too, and that’s where it began.

Most Friday nights you’d get a text from him asking you to tag along to whoever’s party was going on, telling you that they weren’t the same without you there. “I need you there as my wingman,” he’d insist, although he had no intention of going home with anyone else. His turn to host rolled around, and that’s when things had changed – the night had ended with you crashing on his spare bed. Everyone else had left and he didn’t see you go, and it wasn’t until Duke had his attention that he had found you – curled up on the bed in his spare room. He thought about waking you up, but decided that he couldn’t bring himself to do it once his gaze fell upon your sleeping face. All he did was remove your shoes, to make you more comfortable, and tuck you in so you didn’t get cold. He had murmured a “good night,” pushing your hair away from your face with a kiss to your forehead.

The next morning, he had found you in his kitchen; Duke keeping you company, curled up in your lap as you wait for Calum to wake up. Waking up in his spare bedroom had been a surprise, yet you didn’t feel entirely uncomfortable. You could’ve left straight away, just leaving a note, but you didn’t. You stayed for breakfast, testing Calum’s cooking skills, and both of you (silently) felt as though you wish it could happen more often.

After that, the texts weren’t just invitations to parties.

They were invitations to get coffee, to take Duke on a hike, to listen to a song he was working on. Any reason he could think of to see you, he would take it, yet he wouldn’t admit to himself why he wanted to see you so often. Your friends knew it; at every party you’d arrive together, dance together, his fingertips would linger on your hips, always touching you somehow. It looked so easy, fun, and free from the outside.

You’re the lucky ones.

Four words both you and Calum had heard time and time again from your friends. They’d see the smiles that grace both yours and his lips at parties when you were together, losing yourselves in the music and each other. Friends would ask where you both stood; what you are, or what you were. Some had called it friends with benefits, most thought you were dating, but whenever you were asked, all you could reply was “I don’t know.” It seemed as though your friends never believed you, but it was the truth — Calum doesn’t like labels.

Calum would take you on unofficial dates; never labelled as such, but something as casual as going to dinner didn’t quite feel the same when he refused to let you pay and you ended up in his bed. Most nights you’d just stay up talking, watching the evening bleed into night as the sun sets and the moon rises. You’d talk about anything from his eclectic taste in music to what the purpose of life is, yet somehow, you never talked about your relationship. Anything but yourselves. The first time he kissed you, it almost felt accidental; his face was just that bit too close to yours for you to not kiss him, his chapped lips brushing yours for a brief moment. His eyes had quickly assessed the expression on your face, wondering whether you were thinking the same thing of what just happened. He had waited a moment before asking “Is it okay if I kiss you again?” and of course… you said yes. You felt something, so did he, but the feelings never translated to words; you never found out what was going on inside his head. And that was the problem.

“I brought you a drink!” You’re snapped out of your thoughts by her voice as she hands you the red cup, filled with whatever had been thrown together in the ice bucket at the other side of the kitchen. You had watched her do the rounds around the room, catching up with everyone else hanging around, and had finally made her way to you. “You know Calum is here, right? Why are you over here all by yourself?”

You hope she didn’t ask him the same question. It’s clear your facial expression gives more away than you intended, and you’re met with a furrowed brow before she continues.

“Did something happen?” She questions, an inquisitive expression on her face as she glances over your shoulder. It’s in that moment you realise he’s there, at the other side of the room, and suddenly it feels like the walls are closing in. She knows Calum well too, but they really are just friends — she can tell something is off with him, too. You allow your eyes to glance to where he’s stood, talking to someone you recognise but whose name you can’t recall. Calum’s eyebrows are furrowed, he looks deep in thought although he’s definitely not paying attention to the conversation that he’s stuck in. “Never mind, don’t answer that. New question, what happened?”

You sigh, taking a sip of the drink she handed you before trying to think of an answer. What did happen? Things have become distant. As much as you enjoy being around Calum, sometimes the uncertainty is too much. He’s a closed book; very difficult to talk to about how he feels, and it leads to you overthinking way too much. Sometimes you just want to sit him down and tell him everything; how even though your relationship is nothing serious, sometimes you wish it could be. You try not to get attached in case he doesn’t think anything of you in the way you wish, sometimes. It’s difficult when he treats you better than any man has before.

“I just haven’t seen him for a while,” You tell her, and it’s not a lie. You haven’t seen him. It doesn’t add up though, not to any of your friends — the two of you would be the life of the party normally. It doesn’t feel the same when you’re at opposite ends of the room.

“Then why aren’t you over there catching up?” She asks, and you know you can’t hide it anymore. She can see it in your eyes. It’s rare that you’re not joined at the hip in any social situation; your friends didn’t know too much about you and Calum in private, yet you know she won’t be the only one to notice the distance between the two of you. They don’t know about the ‘dates’ or about the times where you’ve called him crying after a bad day. They don’t know about the kisses, how he holds you in the dark of the night, or how you know more about him than anyone you’ve ever met. They don’t know about you and Calum.

You pause for a minute before answering her.

“Nothing happened between us,” You sigh, your nails anxiously tapping against the plastic cup in your hand. “That’s the problem.”

You watch as Calum laughs at a joke a friend has made. It’s not his true laugh though – where his eyes crinkle and his nose twitches, where he looks as though his cheeks could burst from how hard he’s smiling. That’s a laugh reserved for you, when you tell him a silly childhood story at 3:00am. There are many parts of Calum which only you get to see. You notice his hair has grown out compared to when you saw him last. The blonde is hardly there now, just specs throughout the ends of the dark curls. Your heart thuds in your chest as you look at him – he’s right there, yet he feels a million miles away, like there’s a wall in the middle of the room preventing you from getting any closer. It’s even further to reach his heart.

Calum is a closed book, but the pages you have read, you remember.

You know his feelings on a lot of things. You know he loves his family more than anything in the world, that he eventually wants to grow old in Australia near the beach, and that his purpose in this lifetime is to make music for people to fall in love with. He cares deeply about those around him, he shows his love through affection, he calls Duke his soulmate. He loves to cook for those close to him and has a list of recipes in his phone of meals he wants to make for his mum. He once spent a whole night telling you how his sister is one of his biggest inspirations. Playing shows and meeting those who support him makes him feel alive. You know a lot about Calum... except for how he feels about you.

“You should talk to him,” She suggests, a gentle touch on your arm to get your attention. It sounds like such a simple thing to do – just talk to him! Just tell him how you feel!However, Calum is so guarded, that the thought of the feeling not being reciprocated looms over you too much to think about doing it. You wouldn’t even know where to begin, months’ worth of emotions and frustrations to work through. It would only work if Calum were willing to talk to. And you’re not sure he is. “You’re not going to have fun until you do, and neither will he. It’s not like you to be so quiet.”

You cross your arms and bite the inside of your lip – two signs that Calum would recognise as anxiety if he looked in your direction.

“Calum doesn’t know how to talk about us.” You retort, a defeated tone to your voice before you even think about talking to him. Although, you have to admit, it wouldn’t be fair to blame to Calum alone. How could a situation be so simple yet so complex at the same time? No-one had ever made you feel as free as he does; so comfortable with the space to be yourself no matter what. He never judged you. Night by night he broke your walls down; learning more each time about your family, about what lead to you to Los Angeles, about your deepest ambitions. Although whenever you went longer than usual without seeing each other, it made you want to be guarded again, unable to shake the anxiety that comes along with sharing your deepest secrets with someone. All of it in turn had led to weeks, nearly a month of no communicating, and you’d be lying if you said there’s nothing you want more than to fall asleep in his arms once more.

“You should try.” She tells you once more, and you know she’s right. “Trust me.”

She excuses herself to go catch up with someone else, and your eyes can’t help but land on Calum at the other side of the room. He looks more comfortable now, but you notice Luke to his right, and realise that’s probably why. There are so many people around, yet you’ve never felt so alone, like an alien in the group. Calum made you feel everything but alone, especially at a party, he’d never leave your side. You never had the chance to feel lonely. Yet in this moment, it’s all you can think about. You wonder if he feels as alone as you do.

Your fingertips fall to the corner of your jacket, nervously fumbling with the material, needing something to ground you whilst trying to think of something other than Calum. You don’t get very long to do so before your phone offers a distraction; a text lighting up the screen, the contact name of ‘Cal’ making your stomach drop.

Meet me upstairs in 5? Spare room at the back.

You can’t help but sigh at the words, your eyes locked on the screen; too scared to look up in case he’s watching your reaction. It feels so impersonal. Why didn’t he just come and talk to you?

Downing the rest of your drink, you head to grab another one, knowing you’ll need it if you’re going to talk to him. What does he want to talk about? What are you meant to say? The questions are a constant dialogue in your mind, occupying the space, leaving room for little else. Glancing around the room, you note that Calum is no longer there, and that he must’ve gone upstairs to wait for you. It feels like you’re floating as you head up the stairs. Not in a happy way, more due to nerves – the adrenaline and anxiety flooding your veins as your fingers grasp the handrail leading to the upper floor of the house. There’s three bedrooms that you can see; one to each side, and one straight ahead at the back of the house. The door is ajar, and you just know Calum is sat on the bed waiting for you.

Your knuckles gently tap the wooden door and you hear Calum clear his throat; your heart races, and when you push the door open, it’s hard to look at him. Having him there, right in front of you, is almost too much to process and it suddenly feels like there’s no air in the room.

Calum’s eyes follow you as you join him at the end of the bed, not too close to him, yet close enough that he could reach out and touch you if he wanted to. No words are said – you stare at your boots, clearing your throat and waiting for Calum to speak first. You’re both too stubborn.

“Why are you so nervous?” Calum breaks the silence – his voice is deeper than you remember. It’s quiet, yet loud enough that you can hear him over the sound of the music and people talking and singing downstairs. His hands rest on either side of him, fingertips pressed into the duvet as he turns to look at you. It makes his heart ache a little that you’re avoiding his gaze, and he knows you’re uncomfortable. “It’s just me.”

Just him.

“You know you make me nervous,” You retort, a sarcastic yet innocent twinge to your voice as you reply. You know he knows that. It’s something the two of you joked about from the beginning – saying it’s the reason you never spoke to him before the shoe incident. He’s a mysterious person, intriguing; a tough person to get through to, especially when you don’t know him. “Especially when we haven’t talked in a while.”

He nods, a smirk on his lips, but there’s nothing about the situation he finds funny. He’s missed you a lot, and now you’re in the same room together, with no choice but to talk – he realises how much distance there is between you both. Silence has never been so loud before. He doesn’t know where to start, or how to tell you how much he’s missed you. He’s not one to be openly expressive with his emotions, he usually does it through gestures or shows of affection – yet he hasn’t had the chance to show that side of him with you.

“What have you been up to?” He asks, trying to make you feel less uneasy around him before he asks anything more cutting. That was one thing you always admired about Calum – his warmth, his ability to put people at ease by holding conversation. He’s a social butterfly, he loves getting to meet people when he’s out. He has his quiet moments at home when he has time to think. He shifts uncomfortably on the bed as he murmurs a quieter, “I’ve been thinking about you a lot.”

The last few words catch you off guard and now it’s your turn to look at him, his eyes cast towards the ground and his jaw clenched. His eyebrows are furrowed, and you know there’s a million thoughts swirling around his head. Is that Calum admitting some feelings towards you?

“I’ve just been working, really. I went home for a little while, like I told you about,” You reply, remembering back to the last night you spent with Calum, just after you booked your tickets home. Although what you don’t tell him is that most of the time, you couldn’t stop thinking about him being there with you. “How was Europe?”

You had plans to go home, Calum had the rest of his year planned out for him – he had been with the band in Europe and the UK for a little while, and you kept up with his travels on Instagram. Calum had been thinking about you too. He knows how badly you want to travel; that being one of the ambitions you had admitted to him, and he wants to fulfil it. With every cold hotel bed that he slept him, he wanted you to keep him warm. Exploring a city wasn’t quite the same on his own.

“It was different,” He answers, and you’re not sure what he means by that. You wait for him to expand on what ‘different’ entails, yet he doesn’t. Different means unsettled; it means that he didn’t get chance to say goodbye to you before he left, and it didn’t sit right with him. He saw you viewing his Instagram stories, he started to post them just to see if you’d keep watching. You did.

And the room is silent all over again. It is for several moments, until you speak up again.

“Why did you ask me to come up here?” You prod, wanting to cut the small talk. As nice as it is to catch up, there’s a weight on your chest – one that won’t be relieved until something gives with Calum. You don’t want to fight, but there’s things that need to be said. “I didn’t have you down as a ‘texting from the same room’ kinda guy. You could’ve just come and talked to me.”

Calum huffs a laugh, a hand lifting to run through the thick curls upon his head. A tell-tale sign of his own anxiety. He doesn’t say anything, though.

“Now who’s the nervous one?” You continue, raising your eyebrows, knowing you have the upper hand. “What, is the thought of talking about your feelings making you uncomfortable? What else is new?”

He sighs, sitting for a moment, thinking of what to respond. Now you’re more comfortable, he knows there’s no holding back. It’s not going to be an easy conversation.

“First of all, I couldn’t just come up and talk to you. There were too many eyes on us, my friends already noticed we weren’t talking. I know yours did too,” He tells you, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. He has so many walls up and trying to break them down is exhausting.

“I miss you holding me as tightly as you’re holding your pride right now,” You murmur, picking at your nails, avoiding his gaze as you speak the words. Now Calum is the one caught off guard. “I want to know how you’re feeling, Calum. I need to know whether this is killing you as much as it’s killing me.”

For a moment Calum thinks he hears your voice catching in his throat and it goes straight to his heart like a dagger, his head snapping up to look at you. He never wanted any of this to happen – he didn’t mean to hurt you. The lack of communication between you both is astounding to him, now that he thinks about it; the lack of boundaries – the line between friendship and more somewhat blurred. The whole thing seems blurry now, and he’s not sure how to provide the clarity he knows you’re looking for.

“I don’t know what to say.” He admits, truly at a loss for words. There’s so much to say, yet so little. Where does he begin? He hears your sharp intake of breath and he knows you’re frustrated – barely getting more than one sentence out of him at a time.

“Calum, I’m so tired of having to pretend like I don’t care about whatever this is. Right now, it feels like we’re competing to see who cares less. I want to know how you feel about me, about us.” It’s like something is awoken in you. If this is the last conversation you have with him, you want to know it all; whether the nights of sleeping next to him meant as much to him as they did to you. “No more holding back.”

Calum clicks his tongue before he nods, inhaling through his nose, placing one hand on the bed so he can put his weight on it to look right at you. “Alright.”

“Tell me,” Your tone is slightly softer now that he’s agreed. As frustrating as it can be at times, you know it’s not an easy thing for Calum. You know he cares. He just needs to show it. “I’m listening.”

“You want to know what I think about when I look at you?” Calum starts, looking right at you – you’re drawn in by his stare. It’s a lot. Taking a deep breath, you prepare for whatever he’s going to say, and nod in a gesture for him to continue. “I think about the night of my party when I found you on the spare bed. How, for some reason, you were comfortable enough to fall asleep at my house, when we weren’t even that close then. How when I tucked you into bed, you just looked so peaceful. You worry too much when you’re awake.”

You felt free around Calum, yet you didn’t at the same time. You could be yourself, he wanted to know everything about you – yet without the labels of a relationship, you held back from showing too much. There were times Calum wanted to kiss you, and when you wanted to kiss him, but you didn’t. Friends don’t just do that. The more he got to know you, the more he wanted to know, but the more he felt like holding back. He realises a lot of things could be solved if you had just talked a little earlier.

“And then I remember the morning after, when I woke up and Duke wasn’t in my bed, so I knew something was different. How I found you sat in my kitchen with him – that you didn’t leave before I woke up. It just felt so normal, I couldn’t shake it off all day, after you left...” He continues, like he’s letting his mind get away with him. He’s barely said anything, yet it’s the most you’ve heard about how he feels about you. “I didn’t want you to leave. I didn’t realise that until you had gone.”

Calum notices the little things. There are countless moments in his mind that he wishes he could live all over again – a lot of the firsts with you. He wishes he would’ve appreciated them more in the moment.

“And then I think about the first time we kissed. I didn’t think it was going to happen then, I don’t think either of us meant for it to. We have a lot of firsts... the first time I saw you cry, after that fight with your parents, when you called me before anyone else. I like that you rely on me, sometimes, it says a lot about how you feel.” He explains, and it’s so much to take in. “I guess I looked for your feelings in your actions, rather than just asking you. Things would probably be different now if we had just communicated with each other.”

You nod, and know it’s not just Calum to blame. Your communication was just as lack lustre as his. Calum read into your body language and actions a lot – he’d notice when you’d hug him tighter just for a moment longer, or when you’d bring him his usual coffee order, after stopping off to get one for yourself. Calum notices the little things, and they mean a lot.

“What about you?” He asks, and you should’ve expected it. “Tell me how you feel.”

Every moment that passes feels like a lifetime; you’re both taking the time to think.

“I liked it better when you were on my side,” You murmur with a small smile, allowing yourself to think of when things were how they used to be. Nothing has really felt the same since. You decide it’s time to lay everything out, to say everything you’ve wanted him to know for the past few months – at least then, if anything, you don’t leave with any regrets. Calum nods at the words, knowing he’d rather go back to the good times too. “I miss sleeping in your bed. I don’t feel like I’ve talked to anyone in so long. I didn’t realise how much we shared with each other until I didn’t speak to you for a while. Now that we’re here talking… it kinda feels like I can breathe again.”

As wonderful as things could be with Calum, it wasn’t always easy. As soon as you left his house, you’d be thinking the time you spent together over and over, questioning the little things; whether he meant to rest his hand on your thigh whilst you watched a movie, or whether he knows exactly how you like your drinks. It consumed you sometimes, leaving your head spinning and heart aching. It hurt him too, sometimes, when he’d drive you home with Duke in the backseat and wait until he saw you make it safely inside. Duke would jump up at the window, as if to wonder where you had gone, and he’d murmur a “I know how you feel, buddy.”

You’re both caught up in your thoughts, and Calum doesn’t have time to say anything else before you set the record straight.

“I don’t want to hold back anymore, Cal. Not if you want it too. I’m either all in, or all out. I don’t want to be stuck in the middle where I don’t know where I stand. I can’t do it again.” Your voice cracks as you speak, and Calum almost breaks on the spot; he doesn’t want to be the cause of your tears. Not ever. He scoots across the bed a little and reaches out; warm, calloused fingers gently picking your own hand up and fitting it in his own. His fingers link with yours and he gently squeezes, trying to get you to look at him.

“Please don’t cry, love,” He murmurs, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. He doesn’t know why you’re emotional, whether it’s because you’re still unsure of where he stands, the relief of talking everything through, or something else.

Commitment isn’t something that comes natural to Calum. He’s passionate about a lot of things; when he cares about something, he gives it his all, but his heart is guarded. It terrifies him to have to be vulnerable, but he knows that if he doesn’t let you in, he’ll regret it forever. In reality, he’s already let you in… He just has to admit to himself.

“I’m all in. You have my word, and my heart. No more going back and forth, okay? I want it all. You’ve got me.” He reassures you, his free hand resting on top of your joint ones, thumb stroking back and forth over the top of your palm. You nod and swallow the lump in your throat, relief coursing through your veins at the reassurance from his words. It feels like everything is lifted from your shoulders, like you can breathe once more.

“You have me, too. I want to be with you, I want you, but we have to learn how to talk to each other,” You tell him, knowing communication is going to be the crucial difference between before and now. It’s not going to work without. “I know it’s not easy, but we have to try.”

Calum moves closer and almost pulls you into his lap, one arm going around your shoulders to pull you close to him. You’re flooded with warmth and the familiar scent of a combination of his washing powder and his cologne, one that still lingers on your bedsheets months after he last slept there, one that you’ve missed. One that is just simply Calum. You bury your face against his neck and his free hand lands on your thigh, a comforting gesture; he just wants to be as close as possible.

His hand moves from your thigh and his fingertips gently take your chin, tilting your face so you’re looking right at him. His pointer finger traces your cheekbone, down your cheek, under your bottom lip as he breathes you in.

“No more holding back,” He murmurs, his chapped lips brushing yours, a feeling of relief crashing over the two of you and your mouths get acquainted once more. It’s been too long, Calum decides, as he pulls back for a moment and his lips are right back on yours again. It’s mere seconds before he’s slipping his tongue into your mouth and it’s a sensation you’ve missed; he tastes of alcohol as he kisses you and you commit the feeling to memory. The tips of your noses nudge together as the kiss goes on and you never want it to end; it’s the start of a new era, a new beginning to your relationship now that you can call it that. The kiss is urgent and desperate, and it says everything unspoken – there’s a long way to go, but it feels like a good start. “Can I take you home?”

“Please.”

Next chapter.

***

If you’ve made it this far — thank you so so much for reading! I’d love to know what you think, and if you have any requests for songs I could write about — please let me know! 🥰

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[girlmaster132]

(Yan)Childe x Reader: Remember Me?

This is like my first in this app please bare with me lmao.

Rated: Mature Words: 3.1k Warning: Kidnapping, Name Calling, Bullying.

Second-Person POV:

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

You wince as you pick up the burnt food on the ground. You accidentally poured in too much oil and you threw the fish away. This was a simple Grilled-Tiger Fish yet you can't even do it. How clumsy are you? You picked up the failed meal and threw it in the trash. You sigh as you shook your head and went to the table to eat one of the fruits on the table.

    You moved to the window and opened it. The sun shined bright, the sounds of people enticing customers to their stalls can be heard up to your house. Liyue Harbor is such a calm and relaxing place. Well, as long as you don't evade tax that is.

    It's been years since you've lived in Liyue, in contrast to most people here who have a specialty in cooking. You only ever bought food here. You took a bite into the apple and got ready for the day.

    You leave your house and walk down the stairs. Opening the door you're met with the friendly people of Liyue.

    "Goodmorning Y/N off to work?" You turn around and see Ganyu walking towards you.

    "Yes Ms. Ganyu, it's the last day before a week's break. I decided to get there earlier so I can get all my work done. I hate going on the weekends. Also, it's rare to see you out of your workplace, what brings you here?" You say. Ganyu giggles and pats you on the back.

    "Well, I have some important business to do. Don't waste time and off to work you go! Can't miss any seconds, time is gold!"

    You smile at Ganyu and continue your stroll to the outskirts of Liyue. You pass children playing with their kites, tag, and some even roleplayed as the Millelith. The vendors yell as they advertise their product in any way they can. You reached the bridge and continued your way to the statue of the seven.

    You bow down to the statue of Rex Lapis. He was such a different god from the previous one you had. Reaching the building of your office, you fixed your clothing and walked proudly. Opening the door and walking, Something felt off. There would usually be people welcoming you inside. The room should have open lights and a warm temperature. Instead, the building was dark, and it's eerily quiet. You sharply inhale.

    "Guys? Where are you?" You shouted as you searched each room you pass through. Was it a holiday and you accidentally went to work? But Ganyu would've told you earlier.

    The moment you arrived at the secluded area, you felt a hand with a handkerchief pressed over your mouth. You look back and attempt to punch them. Your heart beats rapidly and you squirm. More men appear and one of them punches you hard in the stomach. You fall to your knees as they hold you down and suffocate you. Black spots forming in your eyes as the world around you is rapidly fading quickly.

    "Is this one of the people on the list?"

    "Yeah, he's the last one." The man says.

    You try to struggle one last time as you close your eyes and drift to sleep. You squirm, punch, do anything. You struggle.

    And struggle, and struggle.

    And for the last time, you—

...

Struggle.

    You were being held down by Alek. He has always done this to you for as long as you can remember. Your face smeared across the snowy floor. It was cold and freezing, why is your life like this?

    "Y/N! I thought you wanted to be in the military!" He laughed, "Is it because your father is so poor he'd sacrifice you anytime to get money!"

    You sob and try to push yourself up, but Alek steps at your back. Leo, your other tormentor kicks you in the face, "How about your mom? Is she selling herself again to earn money? What a whore!"

    "My... Mom's not a whore..." You whimpered as the two boys made fun of you more. Blood trickles down your nose, you have a black eye and a broken self-esteem.

    "Hey!" A familiar voice shouted. He aimed his arrow and shot it right beside you threatening the two other kids. Your eyes light up and you see your best friend Ajax. He slides down the snow hill and directs the bow at the two boys. "Let him go! Or I will shoot."

    The two boys stare at Ajax. "And who might you be? We haven't met you before."

    "Someone that will kick your ass and make you fear my name." The two looked at each other and laughed. They glance back at you and Leo picks you up. Ajax glare would be enough to kill these two. Without warning rushes at them. He raises his fist and punches Alek right in the nose. Leo drops you roughly into the ground and before he could do anything, Ajax swings his bow at him and uppercuts him in the jaw.

    Your eyes light up as you watch Ajax beating them up a bit too hard. He strikes them with his bow without mercy. "Don't you fucking dare, return to this village. You got me!"

    "Ajax..." You call out, he stops and faces you. "I think they had enough." He shoves Leo into a tree and approaches you. The two boys ran away with fear. He crouches and touches your face.

    "Ajax, thanks for saving me again." You breathe out. He hugs you and lifts you. "Hey! This is embarrassing!" You hide your face and he bursts out laughing.

    "You can barely even stand, don't get shy of a friend helping you out." He carries you and runs you back to his place. The wind was a gentle breeze you blush slightly as he passes through the village. He sits you on the porch and opens the door.

    "Wait, is anyone home? I might disturb them,"

    "Nonsense!" He pulls you into a room and opens the lights. "Stay here, I'll get something for that black eye and a broken nose." He rushes into a room. You hum and wait, he returns with an entire medkit.

    "You don't have to, that's a waste of supplies. I thought you were just going to give me a cold compress—"

    "Here have some of this, your nose is bleeding," He ignores your complaints and brings you a cloth. "Now for that eye," He takes out a cold compress and gives it to your other hand. You apply it to your eye as you wipe your face off the blood. He happily sits beside you.

    "I wish I can be like you, strong, powerful, and brave. Do you ever wish to be part of the military?"

    "Nah, I don't think I'll ever join the military soon. I like to fight but you're more fit for that."

    "You're just wasting your time, thanks for being my sparring partner and the person that always saves me but..." You trail off.

    "But what?"

    "I'm someone you can leave behind. I'm the one getting prepared to become a soldier but I can't even fight those two. You don't even get training yet you're better than me. I bet you're just doing this because you don't want to hurt my feelings."

    "Y/N don't think about that!" Ajax smiles, "I enjoy your company! Even if you win or lose as long as you learn with me I am fine with that!" your face heats up and you look down at the floor.

    "That's sweet of you to say..." You whisper.

    Silence.

    His demeanor changes, "Y/N I've always wanted to tell you something, I've—"

    The door opens, "Y/N I knew you'd be here. Your father is calling you, he orders you to go home now," He walks towards you, "Yeesh, what happened to you kid?"

    "Oh just Alek and Leo doing their thing again... Your son saved me again sir! He's such a nice friend," You compliment. "I'm sorry I used some of your medical supplies."

    "It's okay boy, I don't mind. No hurry, your father needs you."

    "See you Ajax and thank you so much for helping me!" You bow down and run outside, waving goodbye.

...

You walk through the snow and trees. You arrive home and see a carriage and a ton of boxes everywhere. "What's this all about?"

    "We're leaving, pack your things before afternoon." You stand there in shock. Leaving? To where?

    "W-what! Father, why do we have to leave again? Where are we even going? Aren't we fine? You say if I trained and got in the military we'd be safe. W-why?" You stuttered. Looking at your father who's hastily fixing the bags. He grabs your shoulders.

    "Liyue, we have the biggest chance of surviving there. We can't pay off our debt anymore, they'd kill us!" He yells at your face, making you shake in fear.

    "B-but where's mom? And Ajax— I still haven't said my goodbyes to him." He grabs your hand and pulls you roughly.

    "Your mom won't be returning any time soon, we have to hurry. And as for Ajax, I told him about the two of us leaving for Liyue. You're not good enough, look at you. Whenever you get back here you get beaten up by such a useless piece of shit. There's no time so get your goddamn stuff and let's leave this hell hole!" He pushes you and his words echoed through your mind. You wipe a tear threatening to fall down your face.

    You pack all your clothes and whatever you can hoard in a box. You throw it in the carriage and your father commands you to get in. You are sad, at the sudden change.

    "Hey! Wait up!" Ajax shouts. You see him out of breath, his eyes full of worry.

    "It's best if you don't follow us..." You say. Your eyelids get heavy and hide your face. You look back once more to see Ajax chasing you with full speed. Your father grunts and whips the horse to go faster. You watch as he fails to match the speed.

    "Wait, Y/N! Don't leave me please!"

    And that was the last you've heard of your best friend.

...

The room is silent and uncanny. You squirm around and freedom has no avail. Your eyes are covered and your hands are tied. You start to panic and hyperventilate.

    "Looks like the last one woke up," you hear a voice.

    "Are these the hostages?"

    "Yes, we're just waiting for the boss to return," says the other. Footsteps were circling the room. You feel like you're about to vomit. Your insides churn at the fact that you're kidnapped by other people in the room.

    "This one seems to be eager for a beating!" The agent jokes. The blindfold tightly wrapped around your face stops you from absorbing info about the matter. Your hair gets roughly pulled and you gasp. They laugh at your attempt to escape from them. You hear the door creak open.

    "Well hello there, you did a great job you two, now would you mind if you avoid touching the hostages?"

    "Yes sir!" And with that, the two men drop you down. The newcomer arrives and clears his throat.

    "All of you calm down. We're waiting for your greedy scum of a boss to pick you up from here in about an hour. There are 6 people in here, If he arrives early and pays, we'll set you free. If he doesn't," You hear him chuckle. "Every 10 minutes wasted I will pick one of you and make sure none of you get out of here without a broken bone or two. So hopefully he responds and gives the money he owes us. Just hope this boss of yours is kind."

    Time ticks the sounds of your co-workers begging for freedom gets hushed by threats and punches.

    10 minutes had passed.

    "Looks like one of you is lucky," You hear a loud slap and a person groan. You witness your co-worker get beaten up. You flinch every time he begs for mercy. You hid in the corner of the room, hoping to dear god your boss would arrive now. You didn't even know nor want to do anything about this debt they were talking about. With one last punch, you hear a thud, ending one's suffering.

    You try to calm yourself down but you can't stop it. You huff and puff loudly, sweating bullets, stomach-churning, dying from the anticipation. All of these give all the attention to you.

    Another 10 minutes passed, it didn't even feel like it. Time was ticking too fast you've lost all hope of getting out of here.

    "Sheesh, that old geezer really does not care about you folks does he? Now, who should the lucky winner be?" His steps got louder and you know he's going to hurt you. He grabs your hair and pulls your blindfold and throws it. He raises his fist ready to strike. "Now you little-"

    "Ajax? Is that you?" You asked, blinking to clear the light. He's taller and has a Fatui mask on his face. He still looks as handsome as you remember. He halts and stammers.

    "H-how do you know about that? Are you one of Liyue's spies? Or are you an eavesdropper that knows too much?" He studies you before saying, "Keep an eye on the other 5, I have to deal with this one." You gulp as he harshly tugs your arm. He drags you into the room beside and throws you into the wall. Your heart sinks, whatever happened to your best friend? You feel the tears swell up in your eyes as sadness overtakes you.

    "A-ajax don't you remember me?"

    "As far as I can remember, I don't know anyone that's part of an organization that borrowed money from us. I only know your boss, and his subordinates are going to get a good beating if he doesn't arrive with the money."

    You stare at his eyes, it's devoid of the sparkling light of hope and kindness. It's empty and dark, soulless and heartless. You gulp and a tear escapes out of your eye.

    "I'm a coward..."

    "Save the tears and sad story for later. I'll get back to you after your boss returns." He rolls his eyes and scoffs. He stands up and he quickly walks to the door.

    "I'M A COWARD THAT LEFT THE MILITARY AND YOU ALONE!" You shout as you reach your hand up to him. "I was never fit to become a soldier! And I made you suffer!" You sat down and tears streamed down your face.

    Childe stops walking and looks back at you. His eyes widened and his mouth agape.

    "Y/N? How're you— alive? My father told me you were taken away and you... died...."

    "W-what? My father said that he informed you about the two of us leaving Snezhnaya to hide in Liyue. We couldn't pay off our debt, and mom never returned the same day you rescued me from those two asshats."

    His eyes softened like every memory of you two together came crashing to him. A small smile appeared on his face as he approached you slowly. Each step he takes, you take one back.

    "I'm sorry I- just hurt me..." His hand reaches for your face and he looks directly into your eyes. He leans in and you feel his soft lips touch with yours. The moment was bliss, you close your eyes and hold onto him. You breathe in sharply as he pulls out. He wipes away your tears and lets out a laugh.

    "I can't believe you're alive Y/N. I missed you, and you aren't a coward," he says. Your stomach somersaults and you hug him. "Now, let's get to it." You look up to him and then A sudden sharp pain surges and paralyzes you. A knife digs into your abdomen. You widen your eyes and more tears stream down your face.

    "A-Ajax?" You whimper and your body numbs. Your legs weaken and Childe catches you. He chuckles as he runs his hand through your hair. You cough out blood and he whispers into your ear.

     "Shh... it will be okay. Y/N just relax, you'll be fine with me. Just sleep, we'll talk in a bit."

...

You flutter your eyes. Everything was so blurry, your body is ready to fall apart from exhaustion. The pain of your best friend betraying you loomed and haunted your thoughts. You sluggishly move and the pain shoots through your stomach. You wince and attempt to cover it. You realize something is attached to your wrists. You move your hand and hear the clanks of chains. You dart in that direction and see that both of them were chained in the wall. The room is pitch black.

    Your heart races and you panic. You struggle but your efforts are futile. Something heavy was weighing you down. You look down to your feet to see chains shackled on your ankles.

    Your breathing gets erratic, and adrenaline rushes through you. The sounds of footsteps came near and you waited for the danger. The door loudly opens and you see Childe enter.

    "You're finally awake! Took you long enough, I know you don't like to keep friends waiting," He exclaims while crouching down to your level.

    "Where am I? Ajax why the fuck am I chained?"

    "You'll never be able to leave me anymore. We're going to be together just like before! Aren't you excited! We have so much to catch up to, after you left I thought you died! So I chased after you and fell to the abyss—"

    "Abyss?! Is that why you've cracked your head and went mad!" His grin widens and he giggles.

    "You've always been funny Y/N I've loved your jokes. The abyss was such a fun place. I always thought that if you weren't in this world anymore, you'd be there! But foolish little ol' me remembered you are an angel, they don't fall into the abyss. They fly up into the sky," He rambles with a twisted smile on his face. You raise your brow, scared for dear life.

    "This isn't right Ajax! Y-you fell into the abyss?! What happened to you! Why are you doing this to me? Let me go!" You yell. His face drops and he laughs maniacally. He comes closer and rubs your shoulders. His hand runs down to your chest. He licks his lips and stares at your eyes, piercing through your soul.

    "We're going to have some fun."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Author's Note: I swear to God idk what I just wrote ;-;

If you enjoy whatever the hell I wrote you can follow me on WP too! 

https://www.wattpad.com/story/264619512-genshin-impact-oneshots-x-readers-x-characters

[sunflowerstache]

Lifespan

A/N: Hello! This is very different from most of my writing, not only because its an OC, but because the storyline is just something out of my comfort zone. But I really hope you enjoy it(: I got the inspiration from a ad I saw on Facebook a long time ago lmao but yeah, come say hi once you’ve read it and tell me what you think! It’s much appreciated! I love you all so very much! Also hugeeeee shoutout to @devil-in-bw-the-sheets​ for spending like six months reading and re-reading this every single time I rewrote it and changed things and encouraging me each time! And @emotionally-imbruised​ for beta reading it for me!💛💛

Word Count: 7.3k

“Doll?”

The fog that seemed to have settled over your mind instantly melted away upon hearing the barista’s voice, her sweet drawl grounding your focus back on her. She was an older woman, probably nearing her sixties based on the collection of grey hairs scattered throughout her small ponytail. But still so incredibly full of life. She had red glasses perched atop her nose - which perfectly completed the red polka dots covering her black dress - a beaded chain dangling from the end to the front of the frame, a pair of silver peace sign studs resided in her ears, and the anatomically correct symbol for caffeine dangled in necklace form on her chest.

“What? I’m sorry.”

“Just asked if you wanted the cream on that.” She smiled, thin lines spreading out and away from the sides of her eyes as her mouth widened. Upon glancing down quickly, you took notice of her clearly hand drawn name tag filled with swirling letters - different then when you stopped by earlier in the week when she had used stickers to spell out “Rita”.

“Oh, um yeah sure. Why not.”

“My husband always says that during weather like this, the calories don’t count. That they disappear with your shivering. Can I just have your name, dear?”

“Georgie. And your husband sounds like a very smart man.”

“Oh, he is.” A dreamy look took over Rita’s features, like just thinking about the man made her heart race. “Been together for forty-two years and he still teaches me new things.”

Your heart ached with each word; the fog slowly started to creep back through your mind while you watched her grin fondly. The hope and excitement for the future that was always so very clear in people’s eyes was what made it so hard not to explain everything you knew, every secret you held. However, as much as you wanted to urge everyone to live the life they’ve always wanted, you knew there was a natural balance to life, and opening your mouth would undoubtedly throw that balance off. So instead, you grinned and nodded your head.

“He sounds wonderful.”

“My best friend. Counting down the minutes until the end of my shift. We’re heading up to see our grandbabies for the week.” It was like she knew exactly what kind of secret you were keeping and made sure to hit you where it hurt each time she opened her mouth. As if her being impossibly sweet didn’t hurt enough.

“That sounds nice.” Digging around in your bag for your wallet made it much easier not to focus on the ticking time bomb in front of you. “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh my! I’m sorry, I know I can’t talk forever if no one stops me.” her laugh was soft, inviting, one you would love to listen to while storytelling. “It’s four pounds.”

“You can keep the change.” You said when handing her some cash, but stopped yourself before you turned to walk away. Even if you weren’t ever going to outright explain anything to anyone, slipping in tiny, reassuring comments made you feel at least a little better before parting ways. “Have an amazing night with your family Rita.”

The coffee shop was relatively empty at the hours you stopped by. Other than the same group of men that were there every morning, chatting over the newspaper and a black coffee and a young nurse who was just getting off of her night shift, only customers on their way to work stopped by. But that was just how you preferred it. It was much easier to avoid running into people when the sun had barely just peeked over the morning horizon. You suppose the city isn’t exactly the best place to reside when you’re on a mission not to get close to anyone, but you’d much preferred the hustle and bustle of the city than the silence of the countryside. At least here you were able to escape your thoughts when they got to be too much, out there you were left to drown in the weights you held.

Rita was right when she said the weather would bring shivering. The moment you stepped through the café doors, all sense of warmth you previously had was sucked out of you, leaving the tips of your fingers tingling against the warm cup. You hadn’t ever really gotten to know the woman behind the counter, a few kind greetings every now and again, but she seemed to be someone who brought a lot of joy to those around her. And she always put extra chocolate curls on your drink. You made a mental note to send some flowers to her family within the coming days.

It was a car horn that initially took your attention off of the pavement, turning to look for who was in such a rush at 5:30am, but the hard torso smacking into her shoulder is what brought your attention back. Followed by the searing heat of your hot chocolate spilling down your front.

“Oh fuck!” you yelled, immediately dropping the paper cup and trying to pull your shirt away from your body to decrease the chance of a burn. There goes your chance to get home and drive right to work without any issue.

“Oh my god! Oh shit!” the man that had ran into you gasped, stopping in his tracks and grabbing onto your elbow to steady your wild movements.

Even though his words were quite loud on the empty street, his voice was still husky, almost like he wasn’t awake yet and still had some left over sleep in his throat. And when you turned to look at who had ruined your shirt, your own voice got stuck in your throat. He was tall, which made sense considering your head had bounced right off of his chest. He was wearing black basketball shorts with tall white socks and a light grey hoodie, which was pulled up to cover the dark grey beanie resting on his head. With one hand he was holding a water bottle with ease, while the other was frantically pulling the airpod from his ear. But apart from his sheer stature, you couldn’t ignore how beautiful this man was. How even the worry lines littering his face were perfectly accenting his features. Or how the green of his eyes seemed to sparkle in the dim light of the Whole Foods you had been stopped in front of.

“I’m so sorry! Shit are you okay?” he quickly asked, shaking his head before you could even respond. “Obviously not, that was probably hot. Oh god I’m so sorry!”

Finally getting your bearings back, you couldn’t help but nod. “Yeah it was pretty hot.”

“Shit, I don’t even know how that happened. I must’ve taken my eyes off the pavement for one second. I’m so sorry.”

“So you’ve said.” You chuckled, bending down to pick up your now empty cup at your feet and tossing it in the bin by your side. “Don’t worry about it. Really it’s fine.”

“It’s not, I’ve ruined your shirt.” If the disappointment in his voice wasn’t evident enough, the small pout on his lips definitely was. He looked absolutely distraught at the sight of what he’d done. “Let me at least get you a new drink. It’s the least I could do.”

“Oh, um, that’s alright.” You’d always known it was rude to speak to someone and not give them eye contact, it was something your father had drilled into you as a child, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Looking someone in the eyes meant seeing above their head, and that was an area you actively tried to avoid looking. But there was something about him that drew you in, and you couldn’t help glancing up at him quickly again. “I actually have to be getting to work. Thanks though.”

“Are you sure? I feel terrible.”

“Positive. Have a good morning.” Your touch was soft on his arm as you made your way past him, leaving the mystery man standing on the pavement staring as you walked towards your flat.

You didn’t mean to be so short with him, but it’s just how you’d grown accustomed to living life. It was the easiest way you found not to get close to many people, which meant less hurt in the end. And you’d been around enough hurt in your short twenty three years. It may be a lonely life, but you were happy with your cat, comically named Lucifer, and living a simple life. Sure, there were times you wished you could live the carefree life everyone around you got to experience, your only issues being stresses of work or relationship drama, but that wasn’t who you were. After living the life you did, there’d be no way you could live a normal life.

“Don’t give me that look, Luci.” you grumbled when walking through your front door, your cat perched on the dining table just watching as you moved through the living room, ripping your destroyed shirt from your body. “This wasn’t my fault.”

You’re sure that you looked like a crazy person if anyone was watching on, talking to your cat while walking around your flat in nothing but a pair of black slacks and a bra. But you didn’t care, because this was your normal. You ranted to her after a long day at work or a particularly draining day, and she always sat and listened. Mostly because she was a cat.

“He just ran right into me, like he literally couldn’t see me. How odd, right?” you stopped briefly while searching your closet for a new shirt. “God Luci, he was cute though. So cute. And tall.”

Just because you secluded yourself in the world didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy taking a peak at what it had to offer. It was the forming relationships that put you off, not because there was a level of uncertainty - nothing was uncertain to you - but because you always knew the timeline of said relationships. It was always the same. So why put yourself through it? But also, why not? What if that was just what you needed to make such a painful existence a little more bearable?

“I didn’t even get his name. Maybe I’ll see him around the cafe sometime.” you hummed, throwing the new peach colored blouse over your head and peeking your face out of the hole. “No. No Georgie, don’t go there. Who are we kidding, it’s not like anything could ever happen anyway.”

Lucifer meows loudly at your comment., making you turn around to glare at her. Obviously she didn’t know what was actually going on, but it was nice to entertain the idea of someone listening to your problems and helping you talk them out. You were a secluded young woman, not crazy.

“What? Like I’m wrong? It’s not something I’d be able to keep from a boyfriend forever. And It’s not like I’d be able to just flat out tell them.”

She meowed again, jumping off the table and prancing her way to your feet, rubbing her side against your ankles.

“What would I even say? Hey, I was born with this thing where I can see a floating clock above everyone’s head that literally counts down to the day you die? Yeah because that won’t get me sent to the looney bin.”

From the start of time, there has always been a beginning and an end to everything. No matter if it was an Oscar award winning film, delicate relationships, or even life itself, it all ended. People come, and they go, but the world continues on; taking care of those who stay to see another day. And on a daily basis, the idea of the end rarely floats through anyone’s mind. Except for you.

For you, it was impossible not to think about when it was quite literally staring you in the face. For as long as you could remember, you walked through life with a different outlook on the end than most other people.It wasn’t because you had some near death experience, but due to a gift. Or at least what some people in the world would consider a gift, because in no way would you call being able to see the exact day someone is going to die, a gift.

It was something that over the years you had grown to ignore, trying not to look too far away from people’s eyes and never thinking too hard about the ticking numbers.They weren’t obnoxious or flashy signs hanging above everyone’s heads - like you had seen some films try and depict - but instead, just a simple, faint, white clock just above the tops of everyone’s head, showing each individual’s lifespan. No matter how many hours you sat down and tried to rationalize why you were able to see this, there was never any answer. No one else in your family carried the burden, and because of that, you never mentioned it to anyone in fear of sounding crazy. But you knew you weren’t crazy, not when you prayed night after night for those numbers to disappear or for someone’s clock to be wrong, only to be let down.

You knew you weren’t crazy when you finally saw your favorite florist Don after he spent some time away, and his clock suddenly read 3 years, 20 days, 6 hours, 42 minutes, and 6 seconds instead of the 27 years you had grown used to seeing on him every day before he left. It didn’t take long for you to find out he was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer and treatments had stopped working.

You knew you weren’t crazy when you got to watch Kim’s clock - the very sweet receptionist at your job - begin to slow down the more she adjusted to a healthy lifestyle of eating right and taking care of her body. What was once a ticking time of a measly 21 years adjusted what would be a long and fulfilled 59 years more.

And you knew you weren’t crazy when at only seventeen years old, you watched as your best friend’s clock suddenly dwindled down to zero’s across the board like a slot machine while laying on the bathroom floor of a house party. The drugs in her system being too much for her young body to handle and completely consuming the 72 years she once had left.

You weren’t crazy, you just carried a burden no one should ever have. And because of it, you made sure not to get close to anyone in fear of watching yet another clock strike zero.

So you moved on with your life, forgetting all about the tall man who had spilled your drink and run into your mind, making you think things you hadn’t in so long, and instead, focused solely on getting through your days at work and getting back home. It was an easy routine, one you hadn’t strayed from much since moving to the city six years ago; wake up, feed Luci, get coffee, go to work, go home, shower, watch tv, go to bed. And as happy as you were that life wasn’t so painful these days, boring would be the only word good enough to describe your life.

Until your neighbors moved in.

You were standing in the kitchen, lifting the collar up to your mouth to try and quickly lick the hot sauce off the old, ratty Elton John Tour shirt you were wearing before it left a stain, wearing nothing else but some shorts, a nice pair of cheetah print slippers to cover your chilly toes, and one of the two hundred paper face masks you’d ordered off of Amazon in an attempt to clear your skin, when the loud bang on your front door startled you. Not only did your family not live in town, but your neighbors knew that you weren’t a people person. Ever since you made that very clear to them upon moving in, they hadn’t tried to contact you, so you just assumed whoever it was had gotten the wrong flat number.

But the knocking persisted.

Lucifer’s head had picked up from her lap upon hearing the first knock, now watching as you made our way closer to the front door. “What do I do?” but the only response you received was her head tilting to the right, like she was saying ‘Really? Answer it you idiot.’

You wanted to be angry, you really did, because you were nearly ready to be completely settled in for the night after a terribly long day and you just wanted to watch some bad tv with Luci, but the moment you twisted the door knob and peered into the hallway, any anger you had felt, completely washed away.

“Hey! Sorry, my mates and I-” he abruptly stopped mid sentence once his eyes landed on you, like his train of thought literally face planted into a brick wall. A look of realization flashed across his face quickly, and in a matter of milliseconds, what was once stress turned into a look of excitement. “Hey! It’s you!” he smiled.

“It’s me.” something about him made it very difficult for you not to mirror his smile, but that desire was overpowered by the confusion coursing through your mind.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again! I still feel terrible about what happened, are you sure you were alright? You didn’t burn yourself, did you?” The man was incredible at changing his emotions at the drop of a dime, for now his eyes were laced with concern where excitement had just lived. “Or I guess I should say I didn’t burn you, did I?”

He was much more put together this time, the workout attire you had last seen him in was traded in for a pair of light red slacks that looked to be a crushed velvet material paired with a plain white t-shirt and a pair of black vans. He looked like any university boy you’d see walking the streets, but at the same time, like nothing you had ever seen before. Something about him standing in your doorway brought you a sense of calm, like just his presence was enough to wash away the stresses of your day.

“I mean I can’t say that it felt particularly good, but I didn’t get burned, no.”

“Oh good. That’s good.” he nodded, and you made the mistake of following his hand with your eyes as he lifted it up to his curls to fix the glasses perched on his head. You didn’t want to know, didn’t want to see what kind of fate the universe had in store for him because the peace he had brought to you in the few moments he’d been standing there felt better than anything had in the past few years. But you were never that lucky.

Your eyes quickly casted back down, looking back at the white of his shirt while you cleared your throat. “Did you need something….” you dragged out the end of the word to indicate that you didn’t know what to call him since he hadn’t bothered to mention his name.

“Oh, right. ‘M Harry.”

“Georgie.

“Hello Georgie.” if possible, the grin on his face doubled in size, causing two dimples to appear at the corners and the air in your chest to feel as though it was tightening.

The two of you stood in your doorway without saying anything for another moment before you spoke up; “So did you need something or…”

“Fuck, yeah.” his voice was breathy when he responded, standing up straighter, “My mates and I just saw you come home and we’re in desperate need of a needle and thread. You’ve got one?”

It only took a second for him to realize his words and that surprised look from when you first opened the door was back. His eyes widened and his hands raised in front of him as a way to stop you before you could respond.

“Not in a creepy way! We weren’t like watching you or summat, swear! My mates Niall and Louis just moved in across the hall.” using his thumb he pointed to the open door across the hall where you could see two other guys watching yours and Harry’s interaction. Upon realizing they were spotted, they raised their hands in a small wave. “We heard you come in. Not that we were actively listening! Just - ‘m sorry. I swear we aren’t creeps.”

“Good. Thought I’d have to sic my monster of a dog on you.” you replied, turning to dig through the small table in what could barely be considered an entryway. The table had started out as a place to keep your keys and mail, but like most did, quickly turned into a junk drawer. An abyss to put any and everything only to never see it again.

Harry’s eyes frantically looked behind you like some crazy monster was about to lunge at him for bothering you at night, even going as far as taking a small step back when the door opened a bit wider while you were looking for the tool. You laughed when glancing up quickly at the movement. It was obvious he was panicking at the new information of potentially getting mauled by a massive dog while simply asking for thread. So you put him out of his misery.

“There’s no dog. I’m just joking…”

As if on cue, Lucifer waltzed up to see what was going on at the front door, her small body weaving between your legs to get a nice scratch while checking out the never before seen man. “Oh! A cat! I love cats!”

“Yeah she’s pretty great.” you nodded, closing the drawer and holding your hand out to Harry. “Here you go. Um, not sure what colour you need so you can just take the whole bag.”

“You’re a lifesaver, thank you! Niall has a date in ten minutes and he’s split his only good pair of trousers.” he turned his head to look over his shoulder at the boys inside the other flat, trying to seem like they weren’t listening to the conversation, but very obviously doing just that. “Have to sew him in like ‘m some sort of tailor.” he chuckled, turning back to face you.

“Sounds like an exciting night.”

“Oh riveting. I would ask if you’d like to join but you look very busy-” the corners of his lips were trying hard not to curl upwards with the light sarcasm, wobbling a bit as he continued speaking, “-so I wouldn’t want to interrupt anymore than I already have. I’m sure I’ll see you again, I practically live with these two idiots.”

“‘M sure I will.” Luci hadn’t left your side since joining you at the door, instead, she began meowing quite loudly, so you bent down to scoop her into your arms.

You liked Harry, not only because he was a very obviously a good looking man, but because he seemed to pick up on your social cues fairly quickly. He didn’t linger and try to get as much out of you as possible or make the fact that you clearly didn’t have much interest in talking uncomfortable. And it was the first time in a long time that you felt content being around someone. Not fearing what the future brought.

Harry halted his movements halfway between flats and spun back around quickly. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched you press kisses to Lucifer’s head while standing in the doorway. Something you gathered from the very brief times you’d shared an encounter was that Harry was not very good at hiding his emotions. It was almost like he had no control of his mouth, because you could see him try to stop the smile from spreading, but it was no use. The dimples popped out in full force.

“I still owe you for that coffee.”

“Oh, um not a coffee.”  you tried not to be loud enough for him to hear, noting that the fact that it wasn’t a coffee was not really that important, but he heard you anyway.

“Pardon?”

“Just um, it wasn’t a coffee. More of a hot chocolate drinker actually.”

He didn’t respond right away, instead just continued watching you with fond eyes and a now very prominent smile. You felt as though he could sense how out of touch with relationships you had begun to get over the years. What other explanation could he have for being so soft with someone he had just met and barely even known

“Right, well keep your schedule open so I can take you out for that replacement cocoa.”

Your door swiftly closed the second he turned back around, not leaving any extra seconds for him to turn around and look at you again. And the second she heard the click of the lock, Luci leaped out of your arms and made her way over to the sofa, meowing her entire journey.

“Yes that was him.” another meow. “I told you he was cute, and I also told you nothing would be happening there.”

Harry wasn’t lying when he said you’d be seeing him again. It seemed as though every day when you got back to your flat, he was there. Sometimes on his way out, other times just standing outside the door waiting for the other boys. And despite how at peace being around Harry had made you feel that day he came knocking at your door, you never put in much more effort than a “hello” here and there. He and the others had tried quite a few times to get you to join them on their night out, but each time you came up with a different excuse. Even if they were comforting, what was the point in forming that friendship when you knew you’d just isolate yourself again eventually. You had made it this long without getting too close to anyone else, and you weren’t going to start just because two attractive lads moved in across the hall who happened to have a very fit, very inviting, friend.

It wasn’t until nearly a month later that you actually had a full conversation with Harry again.

Typically you tried not to go to the coffee shop by your flat any later than lunchtime because it just got too busy. There were too many people for you to fully avoid them all and seeing too many clocks dampened your mood significantly. But you had already had a shitty morning and needed something to give you a boost.

The place had felt very melancholy since Rita’s unfortunate passing last month, she’d passed peacefully in her sleep while spending time with her family. You’d sent the family flowers as remembered, and also made sure to drop a few bills in the jar on the counter each time you’d been in the shop. Other employees were setting up a fund for Rita’s family since she was such a loved member of the community just with the joy she brought from behind the counter.

“Just a large hot chocolate for me, please.”

“For here or take away?”

“Take away please.”

“Actually she’ll have that for here, please.” a familiar voice behind you spoke up as you were digging through your bag for your wallet. You could see him out of the corner of your eye move from his spot behind you, to gradually standing next to you, looking directly at the barista behind the counter.

“Um..” you felt bad for the young kid, he couldn’t be any older than eighteen and all he wanted to do was get to work and get out. But here you were making his day more stressful than it needed to be. “So… for here then?”

“Harry I -”

“Come on Georgie. Please.” never in your life had you seen a grown man bat his eyelashes, but here he was, trying to lure you in with his breathtaking green eyes.

“Fine.” your voice came out soft and you rolled your eyes, but on the inside you felt giddy, like what you remember life to feel like before you started isolating yourself. “Um, sorry. I’ll have it for here I suppose.”

“Do you want the cream?”

“Sure. Thank you.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes, I’ll have a -” Harry’s profile was something you could get lost in. How the tip of his nose seemed to bounce with every word he said, how it looked as if his lips were made to form the words falling from between them, or how no matter how many times he tried to get it to stay back, one of his curls would continue to break loose from the rest and fall past his forehead. From what little you’ve seen of it, Harry had a great sense of fashion. Comfortable. A brown teddy bear jumper was covering his upper body, sleeves long enough to gather just past his hands and torso short enough that you could see his white shirt peeking out from underneath, ripped black jeans, a pair of black chelsea boots, and  those same tortoise shell glasses perched on his nose completed his look.  

“Ready?”

“Huh?”

“You ready? ‘ve got a table back by the door.”

The two of you made your move to walk back towards the front of the shop, but you halted in your tracks when you saw that yes, he in fact did have a table waiting for him, but it was also being inhabited by the two boys you had seen behind him when he came to ask for thread. Neal and Liam? And a girl was sitting between the two as they chatted amongst themselves.

“Harry I don’t -”

“Come on, I promise we don’t bite.” Apparently you still didn’t look convinced because he leaned down to be at your eye level and stuck his lip out in a pout. “One drink. Please? I owe you remember?”

“Yes and you’ve already bought me a new one, thank you by the way, so you don’t owe me anything else.”

“I know.” the apples of his cheeks began getting pinker the longer he stared at you, “But I’d very much like to spend some time with you.”

Just like he did when he knocked on your door, his eyes widened and immediately seemed to want to backtrack what he had said. “Wait no, not in that way. In like a ‘hey I think you’re cute -’ no fuck that’s not -”

“Harry.”

“Yes?”

“One drink.”

The relief was instant on his features, his shoulders sagging and eyebrows un-furrowing at your words. “Good. Afraid my mates were going to start thinking I made you up.”

“I live across the hall, they’ve seen me.”

“Well yeah, but I talk about you so much they thi- I - fuck.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that fell from between your lips. You may not have had many friendships or relationships of any kind, but you did know excessive rattling wasn't generally how people spoke to one another.  “You babble a lot.”

“Only when ‘m nervous.”

“Why are you nervous?”

Harry wasted no time in his response, taking a quick glance over to you. “Because I finally get to spend time with the pretty girl across the hall.”

The heat rushing to your cheeks had become something of a common occurrence when speaking with Harry. It wasn’t obvious if he knew what he was doing or not, but you couldn’t imagine someone like Harry not knowing how to flirt. Thankfully, however, someone from the table spoke up before you could dwell on his comment longer than necessary.

“Finally!” the man sitting at the end of the booth spoke. He was dressed very similar to Harry in color - a tan quilted shirt was hidden beneath a cream colored teddy bear jacket, and pleated brown trousers. The light facial hair stubbled along his cheeks made him look slightly older than Harry, but his complete baby face counteracted that.

Harry looked at you briefly, raising his eyebrows with a ‘what did I tell you?’ kind of look as he bent down to slide into the booth next to the other man. His style was much different than the other two, more streetwear. He was wearing black trackies and an old gray band tee under a denim jacket, baseball hat and the very apparent smell of cigarettes finishing off the outfit. Another difference with him was that he had a girl with him. What you assumed to be his girlfriend by the way her head was resting on his shoulder and his hand fell on her knee. She was beautiful, long brown hair fell loose around her shoulders, only kept back by the fragile looking sunnies that rested at the top of her head. She was wearing a simple white top and a pair of white,black, and brown plaid trousers, both of which were overshadowed by the beautiful black Balenciaga jacket hanging off of her shoulders.

“Was starting to think you’d been lying about actually knowing her, Haz.” the one closest to Harry spoke, earning a light slap to his chest from the girl on his shoulder.

Harry disregarded all of their antics and turned to pat the seat next to him, indicating he wanted you to sit down, and he gave you a reassuring nod when you nibbled your lower lip between your teeth.

It was subtle acts like Harry letting you sit on the outside of the booth so you could make a quick getaway if needed that reminded you how easily he seemed to pick up on your social cues - even if you didn’t realize you did them. It made your chest tickle that even just from the two substantial conversations you’d had with him, Harry picked up on things you did.

“Piss off.” Harry chuckled, reminding you a lot of friendships you’d seen on tv where they all take the piss but it was easy to see that they all cared for one another. It was something you’d always been envious of while watching the world from the sidelines. “Georgie, this is Niall, Louis, and Louis’ girlfriend Eleanor. Everyone, this is Georgie.”

You were met with a chorus of hellos and you would’ve loved to just jump right into their conversation about the best places to get guacamole, just so that they knew you weren’t intentionally being rude to them. But not only were you not good at this conversation thing, but you also were still on edge about forming any sort of connection with these people. Apparently you should get used to Harry and his all knowing mind, because before you could excuse yourself from the awkwardness, he spoke up.

“So, how long have you lived in the building?”

Unprepared for the question, you froze for a second. “Oh, um going on six years now.”

“Impossible! What are you, like twenty? No way you’ve lived there that long!” Eleanor asked, her head no longer on Louis’ shoulder, instead she was sitting upright and looking directly at you. Of course, over the span of the years, you had gotten quite good at looking at people without really paying any attention to what was only visible to you above their heads, but it still made you uneasy. The best solution was just not to look at them at all. But these people, people who had no idea who you were a mere ten minutes ago yet were now welcoming you into their lives, made you want to work on avoiding the numbers. Because this was the most alive you’d felt in years.

“‘M twenty three. Be twenty four next Friday.”

“No shit! Alright well I’m coming over so you can teach me your skincare routine because you look flawless.” she gleamed, leaning forward on the table to jot down her phone number on one of the many spare napkins littering the tabletop.

“As much as I love a good skincare routine, let’s not skip over the more important part of that sentence. Your birthday is next week?” Harry asked, gently shoving his shoulder against yours and offering a kind smile when you glanced up at him.

“Oh, it’s not a big deal. I haven’t really celebrated my birthday since I turned like eleven.” your parents used to throw you a party every year while growing up, a lavish over the top kind of party where all of your classmates were invited and family you had never even heard of pinched your cheeks. But as time went on and you didn’t give up your ‘ridiculous fantasy’ as your mother so kindly put it, they began to stop throwing the party. Now, you were lucky if they sent you a card on the day. Plus, celebrating your birthday alone is kind of a downer.

“You haven’t celebrated your birthday in over a decade?” Niall’s mouth hung open like that was the craziest thing he’d ever heard.

“Nope.”

“Well that just won’t do.” you may not know very much about the people seated around you, but the smirk on Louis’ face told you everything you needed to know. “We’re having a party.”

“Um, thank you. Really. But parties aren’t really my thing. Plus I’m working that day so…”

“Oh, where do you work?” Harry asked, thoroughly interested in where you spend most of your days.

“Good Samaritan.”

“The nursing home down on Adams?”

“That’s the one. I’m a caregiver.” when you first applied for the position, you thought you were crazy. For someone who doesn’t want to get close to anyone in fear of their untimely demise, you definitely went for a job exactly the opposite. But that was the appeal to you. Sure, it was terribly sad to see one of your patients pass, but in the time leading up to it, you knew exactly who needed a little extra love. It was nice to be able to remind their loved ones to visit while making routine phone calls, and to do things to make them smile in what only you knew were their last days. It was the only time you thought what you were born with was some kind of gift. The tiniest most unwelcomed gift.

“That’s wonderful.” Harry’s voice was gently next to you, like he was hanging on to every short word that you said.

“Well, we’ll just have a party once you’re done with work.” Louis shrugged, but held his hands up when you opened your mouth to remind him you didn’t want anything. “Not a party, a friendly get together with friendly neighbors and alcohol.”

That day in the cafe was the beginning to a new start for you.

Obviously Lucifer had to hear about everything that happened that afternoon, but she was there to experience it first hand when Eleanor came knocking on your door the following day. She got to watch as you bent over in genuine laughter at your shared banter. She watched from the kitchen counter as Harry came by with food one night, saying he just happened to order extra lo mein and heard you come home. And as the two of you sat in the living room watching Big Brother, talking about everything from your favorite color to why he majored in physical therapy in university. Luci got to watch you break out of the shell you’d worked so hard on forming around you, and even though you knew she couldn’t understand what was happening, you liked to think her frequent meows were those of encouragement.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” The yells came from all corners of the room when you walked into Louis’s flat the following Friday, making your eyes widen and shoulders straighten. As much progress as you’d been making in your life, with branching out and slowly losing your fear of connection, it would take more than a week to crack down those barriers you’d built so high for so long.

“Thank you.” you laughed, putting down the bottle of wine you’d brought just in time for everyone to start surrounding you in hugs.

“Happy Birthday, love.” Harry’s voice was soothing in your ear, like a sense of relief in the overstimulation the other three had given you. You didn’t regret their company like you would have only a month ago, instead you welcomed the foriegn feelings. But it was still nice to have a moment of calm to fully process everything.

“Thank you Harry.”

“I hope it’s not too much. I told them to cool it on the balloons and confetti - especially since we all know I’ll be the one to pick it up in the morning.” he laughed, offering you a glass of wine that everyone else seemed to already be enjoying.

“No, no, it’s great. A nice segway from doing nothing every year.”

“Still can’t believe you haven’t celebrated your birthday in so long! That’s a day that should be celebrated by everyone!”that same look you’d grown to quite enjoy flashed over his features, his momentary distress as he realized he said something he wasn’t planning on sharing. But the look disappeared when he saw your knowing smile. “Don’t start.”

As promised, there was no party, per say. Everyone was just scattered around Louis’ living room telling stories about absolutely nothing that had everyone in stitches. It was the kind of party you’d always been envious of, one where mates could hang out and lose themselves in the company of each other. It was the first time you didn’t have a single thought about impending doom for more than an hour, a feit you would be sure not to forget.

Niall was laid out on the floor under the windows, a half empty bottle of rum in his hand and the other rested on his stomach, occasionally itching an invisible nuisance. Louis was seated in the arm chair directly across from Niall, a very buzzed Eleanor draped across his lap and the more the night went on, the less chances you had of seeing their faces separated. And Harry was seated next to you on the sofa, his arm hung on the back of the cushion in such a way that everyone so often you would feel the very tips of his fingers skim the exposed skin on your shoulder.

You wished you could freeze this moment in time, because a photograph or video would never do it justice. It was almost as if you were watching the night play out in front of you like a movie, not really in your body but watching from afar. Watching as the girl who hid herself from the world began to hatch, slowly cracking the hard exterior surrounding her. And you would do anything to bottle the feeling of pride that swelled in your chest knowing you had achieved that.

“Literally right in the face mate. No joke.” Niall cackled, his laugh a contrast in that moment; escaping his mouth loudly but carrying throughout the room softly. Taking off like a leaf blowing through the fall breeze.

“Georgie.” your name slipped from between Harry’s lips beautifully, like he was created for the sole purpose of saying your name over and over again; forever. “Alright?”

And sitting in the living room of Louis’ flat, listening to your friends’ wine induced giggles, looking at the most captivating pair of green eyes and curly hair that only whatever magical being that was above could’ve created, you were alright. You were so alright that the minuscule ticks of the clocks of your new and only friends, ticks you tried so hard to avoid paying attention to, almost seemed to disappear completely. Almost.

71 years, 2 months, 10 days, 3 hours, 16 minutes, 55 seconds. 68 years, 11 months, 3 days, 19 hours, 43 minutes, 2 seconds. 68 years, 7 months, 21 days, 1 hour, 58 minutes, 33 seconds. 62 years, 8 months, 9 days, 11 hours, 12 minutes, 2 seconds. 2 years, 1 month, 30 days, 23 hours, 34 minutes, 56 seconds.

[sternbilder]

Hi!! Stumbled on your blog via the buried stars tag and I'd like to say thank you so much for the kr>eng translations! There aren't many english-speaking fans so I was happy to read about the game & its characters. I was wondering, what do all the characters call each other in Korean? Or what honorifics they use? I could hear it in the audio sometimes (Gyu-hyuk: "Do-yoon-ah", or I think Seil: "Inha-ssi" ?) but I didn't catch all of them. Google tells me some of it is based off of (1/2)

(2/2) Google tells me some of it is based off of respect, friendship/closeness, or just being older/younger than one another, but I'm still new to the intricacies of what it implies about the characters' relationships and how their individual personalities are. If it isn't too much trouble, I'd love to know ^^

Hello!! You're very welcome and in fact thank you for the question, I'm always receptive to more excuses to talk about this game!

It seems like you already have some context on rules surrounding Korean honorifics. There is a lot of nuance, obviously, but to put it simply...Yes, I'd say the speech patterns the cast (particularly, the TOP5—the others are a bit more complicated) uses are what you'd see in a casual social setting between people who already know each other somewhat, but aren't necessarily friends, which is what I think I would expect from a group of twentysomethings who probably had a chance to bond socially as a cohort throughout the whole audition process (it's explained in the Q&A that they lived together in a dorm for most of the show, too). And as you've pointed out the rules there I would say are much more tied to age and closeness. I'd generally characterize their speech patterns as informal, but polite—basically, you have to use the polite form with people who are older than you, but you can use casual speech (banmal) with people who are the same age or younger. The exception is if you are close enough with someone that you mutually decide it's OK to drop honorifics despite the age difference. More on that later.

The order of the age of each of the main cast are as follows: Seungyeon (33), Juyoung (28), Gyuhyuk (27), Doyoon and Inha (25), Seil (24), and Hyesung (20). So with no other caveats we'd expect, for example, Doyoon to use polite form with Juyoung and Gyuhyuk but not with Inha and Hyesung, etc. Now, with that as the basis, here are some notes based on what I can remember, though disclaimer that my memory isn't perfect, and there are also things I might have missed because I haven't done a full playthrough yet with Korean text.

(Character spoilers for the "Other" section at the end; otherwise a few minor spoilers)

TOP5

Juyoung (28)

Juyoung is the oldest of the main cast, so she uses banmal with pretty much everyone and refers to them by name, or name + ah/ya (which is the casual vocative marker), and it's perfectly acceptable for her to do so.

The rest of the TOP5 call her 언니/누나 (unni/noona, lit. "older sister" but more generally used to refer to any slightly older female acquaintance; which one is used depends on the speaker's gender). They also sometimes call her 영이 언니/누나 (Young-i unni/noona) for short, which I thought was cute. There's actually a Q&A question that asked about this because it is a very familiar/affectionate nickname, and the director explained that Juyoung asked the others to call her that because she was afraid of seeming unapproachable due to her age and because of the fact that she was a former idol.

Gyuhyuk (27)

As the second oldest, I believe he uses banmal with everyone but Juyoung. The younger male characters all call him 형 (hyung, lit. "older brother", see above), though I can't seem to remember Inha calling him 오빠 (oppa). I might be projecting that assumption onto her based on her somewhat brash personality, since 오빠 can come off as a bit...Girlish? Cutesy? Flirtatious? in certain contexts? Idk.

Doyoon (25)

What's notable about Doyoon is that he uses the polite form with Juyoung, but not Gyuhyuk. He calls Gyuhyuk 형 (hyung), of course, but he uses the casual form, which suggests that they're close enough with each other that they've already agreed to drop formalities. Their first rapport event gives me the sense that they're especially close, too, compared to the other contestants (as does just like...waves in their general direction, but anyway,)

Inha (25)

Inha is the same age as Doyoon, so you would also expect her to use polite form with Juyoung and Gyuhyuk. However, she doesn't with either of them IIRC.

As for Juyoung, I don't remember how much of this came through in the text of the game itself, but I would guess they were probably already pretty close in a way similar to Doyoon and Gyuhyuk were. At the very least, I think I remember one of the Q&A answers indicating that they kept in touch very frequently after the events of the game.

I don't really remember too many interactions between Inha and Gyuhyuk, tbh. I do recall that she (not sure if any others do) refers to him as 규 (Gyu) at least once, which I think is adorable, LMAO. This might indicate that they may have been on close enough terms to use casual speech? But then again, she did seem to resent Gyuhyuk at least a little bit for the scholarship thing, and according to the Q&A she took much longer than Juyoung and Doyoon to see him again after the game, so??? She could just be kind of disrespectful like that, which...Kinda tracks, honestly??? 🤷‍♀️Like I said, I don't remember too much about these two, so don't take my word on this.

Hyesung (20)

Hyesung is the youngest, so you would expect him to use polite speech with everyone, but he, uh, does not. With anyone. LMAO. Maybe he's just super tight with everyone, but something tells me it's more because he's a rude little shit who's just Like That. (I mean, he uses banmal with Seil, who does hate his guts, so.) He does call everyone 형/누나 (hyung/noona), though, at least—though, now that I think about it, Seil might be an exception to that, LOL.

Since he's the youngest, everyone just calls him Hyesung.

Also, this is tangential, but I also just wanted to throw in that Hyesung notably has a slight "old man" dialect in that he sometimes uses expressions and slang that you would expect from the older generation, because growing up his only friends were the other vendors at his mom's fish market. This is unrelated to politeness, but it does come off as really funny considering how young he is, and definitely gives his speech a unique vibe.

Staff

Seil (24)

The speech patterns between Seil and the TOP5 are pretty similar to speech patterns within TOP5 itself, which is to say, fairly informal but still polite. He uses polite form with everyone older than him, and uses banmal with Hyseung. I actually wouldn't necessarily have expected this to be the case since he technically has more of a professional relationship to the TOP5 than they do with each other (so I wouldn't have been surprised if he actually used formal speech, rather than just polite), but it's probably because he's in that same age range and because he was the staff member who was closest to them socially.

I believe you are correct that he calls Inha, and Inha alone, -씨 (-ssi), which is actually formal, rather than simply polite. Probably just indicating his high level of admiration for her in particular.

The rest of the main cast just call him Seil. Hyesung also occasionally calls Seil 세일 FD님 (Seil FD-nim) which is technically extremely formal, but obviously said in sarcasm.

Seungyeon (33)

I believe she calls everyone by their full name, and uses casual speech with them. Makes sense. She's the boss.

Everyone else calls her PD님 (PD-nim, formal). Including, notably, Hyesung. AFAICR Seungyeon is the only character Hyesung shows even an ounce of deference toward in this game. 😛

Other

Suchang (27) & Suyeon (18)

AFAIK Suchang only really has in-game interactions with Doyoon and Suyeon, and Suyeon only has interactions with Suchang, who she of course calls 오빠 (oppa), in the familial sense. Though IIRC at the very end she does once refer to Doyoon as 그분 (geubun, lit. "that person") and 도윤님 (Doyoon-nim), both of which are extremely formal/deferential in tone but in kind of a "little girl talks about her crush as if they were Prince Charming" sort of way...Which causes Suchang to hilariously go into overprotective/jealous older brother mode.

The Ha siblings use casual speech with each other, which is standard among siblings. However, Suchang also talks down to Doyoon, which is pretty audacious of him considering they're strangers—he basically talks to Doyoon as if they're already friends. He's kind of an audacious guy in general, though, so I'd say that kind of fits his character.

Doyoon, on the other hand, being the polite young man that he is, uses polite speech with Suchang. There's a funny scene where he accidentally slips up and uses banmal, and then immediately gets called out by Suchang, who chews him out for talking down to someone older than him. (Though ofc Doyoon had no way of knowing this, and also, Suchang shouldn't be using banmal with a stranger in the first place.) At the very end of the true ending when they finally meet, Doyoon actually takes it up a level and calls Suchang 수창씨 (Suchang-ssi) but Suchang tells him to drop it and just call him 형 (hyung). It's sweet.

[yumgrapejuice]

Hello there! I recently found your fic A is for accidental dimensional travel on ao3 and would first like to say good job! I am thoroughly enjoying the story so far. As an amateur writer, I wanted to ask if you have any writing tips?

First, I’m really happy to hear you’re enjoying it, thank you!! And second, of course!!!:D That’s very flattering haha, and it’s something I can talk about for hours, though I’ll try to keep it condensed:’D I’m an amateur writer myself, of course, but, hey, I think every writer has something valuable to offer in terms of advice, and I have been pretty obsessed over the topic for years I guess lol.

I will say, though, that writing is like any other skill, and certain advice fits certain levels (I’ve had someone come to me about writing tips who didn’t have a grasp on the most basic concepts, so I told them different things from what I’d tell someone who’s actually been writing for a while). I don’t know what level you’re at, anon, so I’ll try to keep it to tips that I personally use whenever I’m writing, just a few quick things:D However!! You can always directly dm me and I’d be more than happy to offer more personalized/specific advice if that’s something you’d like:))

(I’d also like to mention that, to me, fanfiction writing is different from original writing. In fanfics, I usually go with the first draft of any chapter and I focus more on the Fun stuff, whereas with original stuff I’d have multiple drafts and be more careful. I just don’t have the time nor the need to perfect my fics if I like them enough as is, and I don't expect anyone else to perfect them, either. But, hey, that’s just me)

(Also, also, don’t look at me for grammar lmao sorry)

Putting the rest under the cut!:D

Dialogue is my favorite part of writing, so I’d like to share a few things I keep in mind whenever I’m constructing it.

First, unless a character is monologuing, I try to keep each person’s lines to no more than 3-4 sentences at a time. That way the dialogue flows more naturally and feels like people are actually talking.

Second, people are rarely graceful with their words, especially if they’re flustered for any reason. Cutting off sentences is a good way to show that, but don’t overdo it, either. That goes for stuttering, too. A couple of cuts or stutters is more than enough. I tend to break this "rule" when someone is really struggling, but that's only on special occasions.

Third, not every line needs a dialogue tag!! You need to evaluate what’s actually important. If you’re using a dialogue tag, you’re drawing attention to it. Why? Is it unclear who’s speaking? Are they performing some action that adds to/reinforces/conflicts with what’s being said? Is it funny? If there isn’t a good reason, you can just leave it without a tag. (Also, dialogue without tags flows much quicker, so that’s something to keep in mind. That's good for a quippy exchange.)

Fourth, I try to always progress some aspect of the story with every line. Usually, that can be plot progression or character progression. They can chatter about their day, the weather, work, sure, but it needs to progress something. Maybe it’s used to showcase the tense/awkward atmosphere. Maybe they learn information that’ll be useful later. Maybe it’s a way to show personality. Just, have it have a purpose.

And last, ‘said’ is not dead. Our eyes when reading barely register the word, so if you don’t wanna draw attention to how something is being said, use… ‘said’ lol.

A few more general things:

I don’t switch POVs often, but when I do, I try to make each POV have its distinct voice, which is something you hear a lot about in writing classes and such. People far more advanced than me can explain it much better, but the way I go about it is similar to dialogue. Different people use different phrases, some go on long tangents, some introspect a lot, some would rather die than think for a second about what they’re feeling (doesn’t mean you shouldn’t describe their emotional responses; just that some may draw more attention to them and linger longer). Switching between more formal styles to looser and rambly is also an easy and quick way to distinguish different narrators.

If you focus a lot on a certain detail, that detail needs to be important. Listen, I didn't spend multiple paragraphs on Dream fawning over an ender chest for that to be trivial in the future lol. The more attention you draw to something, you more weight you put on it. I really recommend that you bring it back eventually.

What’s the worst that can happen? Make it happen, and make it worse lol.

Your readers aren’t stupid, don’t spoon-feed them information. They’re smart cookies, leave some clues and they’ll figure it out. Hopefully. Use your judgement lol. But that goes for descriptions, too. Help them paint the scene, don’t actually paint it for them. Use different senses to describe something, such as smell, touch, sound. Once again, draw attention only to what’s actually important. (I’ve really enjoyed the way descriptions were done in Path of Golden Green)

If you want a line to have a lot of weight, put it in a separate paragraph. That’s probably obvious, but good to have it in mind haha.

Decide what atmosphere you want your story to have. If you’re going for a lighter one, don’t focus too much on serious, dark things. Likewise, tragedies and comedy don’t mix well unless it’s a tragicomedy lol, but that’s a whole other thing. I usually like going for a nice middle, sometimes leaning more towards light stuff. It’s why in A is for Accidental I didn’t dwell too much on the possible effects the prison could have had on mh!Dream because I wanted to keep that storyline relatively light (at least, compared to dsmp!Dream’s storyline lol). Possible trauma just. wasn’t the point here lmao. I just slap on a “eh, not his first rodeo” and I’m done haha. Not everything needs to be heavy angst and not everything needs to be all funny and fluffy. Find what balance you wanna have. Basically, it’s usually not a good idea to betray your readers lol.

This is more of a pet peeve but I really dislike head-hopping lol. It's basically when one paragraph is from one character's POV, the next one is from another's. I guess there's the third-person omniscient POV where that can fly, I suppose, but I'm more of a third-person limited kind of person lol. If that's the POV you're going with, decide on your POV character and stick to it (until the change in POV, at least), pretty please <3

This is very unorganized but each aspect of writing has so much that could be said about it that I thought I should stop here lol. If there’s anything specific you’d like me to talk about or to elaborate on something, please, feel free to ask; again, I’d be more than happy to ramble more about writing lol. I could go on forever, honestly:’D

[vintagedolan]

hey!!! big big fan of all your work bub, thanks for the effort you put into everything! not sure if ur taking requests, if not just ignore, but i have a potential one here;) so i’m a sups independent girl, almost to a fault lol, part bc i love being independent and part sometimes bc i just don’t want to burden others. and my friend once joked about if something were to ever happen and i’d need to go to the hospital, i’d legit try to take myself. SO i was wondering, could you maybe write (1/2)

(2/2) i was wondering if you’d write something about one of the boys’s S.O’s having stomach pain or smth and maybe she has to get her appendix out and she’s driving herself and her man finds out and he’s like, angry she didn’t say anything but also gets worried and idk hopefully this makes sense if not no worries 😂 have a nice night, bug xx

okay but why is this concept actually some shit I would do lmao

You missed the porsche. There, you said it. Maybe it was because you had so many memories tied to it’s leather seats - Gray driving you home after your first date, the late night PCH drives, the morning coffee runs. You were emotionally attached to the thing, you couldn’t help it.

But holy shit were you glad that he’d gotten a tesla that day.

“Fucking shit.” You winced, doubling over again after just a few steps. When it started, you thought it was just cramps, or maybe even something you ate. But by the second time you’d thrown up, you knew something else was going on, the stabbing pain in your lower right side excruciating. 

“Breathe, just breathe,” you mumbled to yourself, scrambling through the drawer of the table of the foyer until you found the key you needed - Grayson always just used his phone to start his car, but you knew the little car shaped thing had to be somewhere. 

Sure enough, you gripped in your hands so hard that you accidentally pressed the button that made the doors open automatically. Usually you’d mutter about how unnecessary it was, all the over top technology when you could just open the door yourself.

But when you managed to get in, a few tears slipping from your eyes as you punched in hospital on the GPS and flipped auto pilot on, leaning back in the seat and clutching your stomach, you were thankful for all the bells and whistles. The drive time popped up as the car started to move - 15 minutes. You just had to make it 15 minutes.

At a Wakeheart meeting on the other side of town, Grayson’s phone buzzed.

He moved it quickly off the tabletop, a bit embarrassed. It didn’t matter that he was the CEO of the whole thing, he didn’t want any of his team to think he didn’t care about his meeting. Still, he checked it quickly under the table in case it was a text from you.

Instead, it was a notification from his Tesla app, and the tag line had his heart rate rising with every word he read.

Headed to the hospital? If you are in an emergency, please do not rely on autopilot and call 911 immediately to seek medical assistance.

He put his phone back up on the table, sliding it over to Ethan. He didn’t have to say anything - Ethan just knew, and by the way his brow furrowed over the screen, Grayson understood.

“Hey guys, really sorry but can we take a five minute break? Gotta troubleshoot something really quick.”

He was met with mumbles of understanding that he didn’t pay attention to as he stepped out into the hallway, Ethan on his heels.

“You’ve never gotten anything like that before?” 

“Nah bro, I have no idea what that’s about. Hold on I’ll look it up.” Ethan typed furiously on his phone for a moment, eyes going wide.

“Uh, it says it comes up if you put a hospital into the GPS and enable autopilot. It’s a safety feature, so you can’t try to hold them liable if autopilot fails and you’re like dying or something. But who would be - oh shit.”

Grayson was two steps ahead of him, already clicking your contact.

Inside the tesla, you let out another groan as you saw his name pop up on the screen. You knew if you didn’t answer he would just keep calling, and you had the sinking feeling that he was somehow onto you. You clicked the green button and tried to steady your voice.

“Hello?”

“Are you good?”

“Yeah, I’m uh - I’m okay. Why?”

“Oh you know, just the fact that my phone told me my tesla is in route to a fucking hospital right now? What the fuck babe?”

Fuck. There was no way to play that off, and if there was, you couldn’t think of it quick enough. 

“Ummmmm.. shit,” you winced again, grabbing at your side with a whimper.

“Y/N tell me what’s going on, no bullshit. Please, you’re scaring me.” His tone was pleading, and you couldn’t resist it.

“I think it’s my appendix. Hurts like a bitch, and if they rupture that can be really bad. So I’m going to the -“ you sucked in another breath, trying to keep it together. “- To the hospital.

“Jesus, why didn’t you call me? I could have taken you, you shouldn’t be driving!”

“I’m fin-”

“You aren’t fine. I’m coming. I’m on my way.”

“Okay.” You didn’t have the heart to argue with him, you were in too much pain, and you knew he was only going to be more mad when he realized that if it really was your appendix, they were going to have you in surgery as soon as they could.

You made it through the last few minutes of the drive, taking the tesla off auto and doing your very best to park it. 

You must not have been playing it off as well as you thought you were, because someone took one look at you headed for the ER doors and they were running inside to get someone to help.

It was a bit humiliating to be eased down into a wheelchair by a very nice nurse and wheeled in through the doors, but the pain was so bad that you felt like you were going to pass out any minute. So you let it happen, let them wheel you in and take you back almost immediately, get you changed into a gown and check you out. The pain was immense, but they didn’t want to give you anything to ease it with the likelihood of surgery right around the corner. So you ground your teeth and tried to fight through it, sucking in deep breaths as your insides felt like they were ripping apart.

“Well Y/N, it’s looking like surgery. Did anyone come here with you, anyone you want to bring back?” The doctor asked quickly when he finally came in, already starting to get the paperwork moving. 

“I came alone, but my boyfriend is on his - on his way. Grayson Dolan. Please let him back here if he gets here, please,” you pleaded, knowing he would be more than upset if he didn’t see you before you got taken back.

“I’ll have one of the nurses check the waiting room. 

“Ethan Dolan too, if he’s here.”

“Okay, you just try to relax, I’ll go see.” 

Relaxing wasn’t in your capabilities, but you did let out a sigh of relief when you saw them come through the door.

Grayson on the other hand was anything but relieved when he saw the look on your face and realized just how much pain you were in. He was at your side immediately, Ethan over his shoulder - more for his sake than for yours.

“Baby -” he was out of breath, no doubt having raced to the hospital and run inside as quickly as he could.

“I’m okay, I’m gonna be fine,” you moved to reassure him, trying to reach out for him. It backfired, sending more pain into your side that had you sucking in a breath. “You don’t have to worry.”

“Bullshit, of course I’m gonna worry. The nurse said you’re going back for surgery?” 

“Yeah.” As if on cue the doctor came back in, ready to take you back.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you,” you whispered, feeling guilty. If the roles were reversed, you would be more than mad, and it was all you could think about.

“Shhhh, stop. I love you, just come back to me in one piece, okay?” He leaned over and kissed your forehead - the pain had you hazy, but you managed to get out a “I love you too” before they wheeled you out.

It was a quick surgery, which was a blessing for Grayson’s nerves that were already worn thin. His foot bounced from the minute he sat down in the waiting room all the way until the nurse came to find them again, letting him know that you’d made it through surgery with no issues.

When you finally managed to open your eyes, Grayson was right there, one of your hands clasped in his. You were loopy from the anesthesia still in your system and you gave him a goofy smile. 

“You’s mad at me,” you said, and though you meant to be sad it came out as a giggle. 

“A little bit, yes, Ms. I-never-ask-for-help,” he sighed, but there wasn’t a trace of bite in his tone.

“Sowwwy,” you slurred, squeezing his hand as best you could. He brought your hand up to his lips, kissing each of your knuckles as you started to wake up a bit more, bleary eyes opening further.

“It’s okay baby. Besides, you get to let me take care of you for the next week. Doctor’s orders, so you can’t argue either. That’ll make up for it.”

“You have work,” you countered, making him laugh as he moved up the bed and kissed your forehead again.

“Ethan and I cleared our week, you’re stuck with me. I get to pamper you,” he teased, running his fingers through your hair as he moved it back out of your face.

“Gross,” you grumbled, trying to keep up the facade. You never liked to be taken care of, no matter how much Grayson tried to.

“I’m glad you’re okay baby. Just promise to call me next time, okay? Taking care of you is part of my boyfriend duties, it’d be nice if you let me do it sometimes.”

You mumbled out the promise, but you were smiling as best you could and nodding, just glad to have him there with you, the idea of him being curled up in bed with you for a few days warming you up to the idea. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

[makeste]

hello! I’ve seen some debate as to whether the 2nd meant allies in general would bolster izuku and although I do think that’s true (ofc any sort of support system that he lets himself rely on would bolster him) I feel like if that was what was meant it would’ve been made clearer? maybe instead of just katsuki showing up, the final panel would’ve had several students burst onto the scene. what are your thoughts?

agreed. and incidentally this is another big reason why it's not Toga. if it was her then Horikoshi wouldn't have devoted any time to OFA II's little hype speech. it just makes it kind of pointless, unless this whole time we've been sleeping on Toga's hidden ability to bolster Deku lmao.

but anyways, yeah. and I mean, Two's commentary here is really just acknowledgement of something we've long since known already. Kacchan is the one who will ultimately be able to reach Deku. we don't actually need a piece of dialogue to tell us this, because the manga has been showing it to us since day one. his resume is fucking stacked. I mean, let's go through it.

he is mean.

I love this you guys. I honest to god love it. because the thing is, if you ask anyone what Kacchan's absolute worst quality is, this would be the obvious answer, right? "he's an asshole" lmao.

but that's exactly what we need right now!! someone who's not afraid to tell it like it is, and won't try to sugarcoat things. someone who's not afraid to argue back and risk hurting someone's feelings. because right now Deku is walking all over anyone who can't do that. All Might tries to feed him lunch and he's like "nah I'm good, anyways bye." Endeavor tries to tell him to rest and he's all "I'm fine" and fucking hangs up the phone. nuh uh. enough of that. what we need is someone who will call him out on his shit. "hah!? don't tell me you're fine when it's obvious to anyone you can barely stand on your own two feet, dumbass."

he is stubborn.

kind of ties into the other thing, but yeah. right now we need a bullheaded asshole who won't take no for an answer if he thinks he's right. good luck trying to sweet talk your way out of this one, Deku.

he understands the situation.

this one is important, because in fairness, simply standing in front of Deku and saying "you shall not pass" isn't gonna be enough to actually accomplish anything here. ultimately he's going to have to be able to reason with Deku too. and so in that respect, it certainly doesn't hurt that Kacchan is someone who understands the OFA situation as well as anyone, and has always had clear judgment about it. he understands the threat of AFO ("they all died young"), and he understands the burden of All Might's legacy. he knows what Deku is dealing with, and that's going to give him an edge when it comes to finding that elusive-yet-critical talk no jutsu knockout blow.

he's been where Deku is now.

Kacchan knows a thing or two about burdens. granted, they've more often than not been ones that he's put on himself, but that didn't make them any less heavy. Deku right now is struggling not just with his feelings of responsibility, but also with all of the misplaced guilt that's feeding into it. AFO is targeting him. if innocent people get caught in the crossfire then that's on him. every minute that AFO stays out there getting stronger and causing more chaos is all on him, because he hasn't defeated him yet. and so on and so forth.

and Katsuki knows what that's like. because he blamed himself for what happened to All Might. that feeling of "if I'd only been stronger" is one that he's intimately acquainted with. that feeling of blaming yourself, of not being able to look someone you care about in the eye because you think it's your fault they got hurt. this is something he knows. this is a road he's already been down. and so if Deku tries to pull any "you don't understand" nonsense, Kacchan is uniquely situated to immediately shoot that shit right down.

he's immune to low blows.

lol I keep thinking of all the different counterarguments that Deku could make, and all the different ways in which Kacchan is perfectly equipped to handle them. anyway, so this particular thing is a very recent development, but very fortunately timed. so as we all know, Kacchan was a first class dick to Deku during their childhood. something which Deku, with his abnormally kind and forgiving nature, has never once confronted Kacchan about, even though he would have absolutely had the right. but anyway, so here's the thing though -- right now I fully believe that Deku can and will do or say just about anything in order to get Kacchan and the others to leave. and that includes hurting them in order to save them. so it would not surprise me at all if Deku goes as far as to throw Katsuki's old, cruel, selfish behavior back in his face as part of a last-ditch effort to get him to back down. desperate times and all that.

and maybe there was a time when that actually would have worked. but here's the other thing -- we know something Deku doesn't. namely, that Kacchan has recently leveled up emotionally and has finally unlocked his atonement quest. he finally understands that it's not all about him. which means that it doesn't matter even if Deku pulls out the big guns. he may hurt his feelings, but he's not going to scare him off, because Kacchan's focus right now is on atonement, not forgiveness. he's not doing this for a pat on the head. he's doing it because it's the right thing to do. and no amount of insults will be able to sway him from that.

he learned from the best.

I said this in another post a couple of weeks back, but yeah. Angsty Nomad Deku has nothing on early Kacchan in terms of pushing people away. early Kacchan was the motherfucking king of pushing peeps away. if you so much as LOOKED at this kid in such a way that SUGGESTED you might even be THINKING about possibly trying to save him, he would straight up throw a ten-year hissy fit lmao. Deku's "All Might, you don't have to tag along anymore"s ain't got SHIT on all of Kacchan's "STAY BACK DEKU"s and "I'D RATHER LOSE!!!"s and "OMFG HOW DARE YOU BE THE ONLY PERSON TO TRY TO SAVE ME FROM THIS RAMPAGING SLUDGE MAN WHO'S ABOUT TO SUFFOCATE ME TO DEATH"s. Kacchan is the undisputed goat here lol.

but anyway, so what this means is that he has accumulated a whole HOST of iconic lines and fateful parallels which he can throw back in Deku's face at a moment's notice. and the best part is that he learned it all from THIS EXACT MOTHERFUCKER, RIGHT HERE. what is Deku even gonna do!! argue against his own past actions?? "well, uh, I guess now that you mention it I should have just sat back and watched you die all those times" OH REALLY?? YOU DON'T SAY. THAT SOUNDS SO CONVINCING.

and so guess what, Deku -- if Kacchan was worth saving, then you're worth saving too. it's an ironclad argument. congratulations son you played yourself.

he always wins.

okay so real talk, we all know that what's really driving Deku right now is his fear of losing people. he's helpless against that. he saw Kacchan get stabbed right before his eyes and it fucked him up. he saw all these other people getting hurt and killed because he couldn't save them, and he straight up could not deal with those emotions at all. he's scared. he's more afraid of that happening again than of anything else. and AFO knows that, and that's why he's resorted to his current tactics, which have isolated Deku even further and caused him to push even All Might away.

what Deku is missing right now, and what he needs to have restored, is trust. trust is the antidote to fear. and when you're as scared as Deku is, it takes an extraordinary amount of assurance in order to ease those fears. basically you don't want to place your faith in anything less than an absolutely sure thing.

but Kacchan is exactly that. this is the exact type of situation that Kacchan's "aiming for the top" overkill confidence was made for. he's the one who never loses!! the hero who's going to surpass all other heroes!! Deku inherited All Might's compassion, but Kacchan inherited his determination. Kacchan is someone who brings reassurance. his confidence is unwavering. and in the end, I think it will be strong enough to pull even Deku back out from the darkness.

he is strong.

Kacchan is Deku's rival in every sense of the word, and I fully believe he's capable of matching him step for step even now. and so Deku can try to push him away, but Kacchan is capable of withstanding that force and staying his ground. Deku can try to run, but Kacchan still has him matched for speed. and as a last resort, Deku can even try to defeat him -- but Kacchan won't ever concede to defeat.

and all of this ties back into what I was saying about trust. because Kacchan is strong. strong enough not to die. strong enough to live. strong enough to not make others worry about him. and that's what Deku so desperately needs right now in order to finally let go of his fears. Deku needs someone who can get him to trust in others again, and to do that, he has to be able to trust in their strength.

and last but not least...

he has a secret weapon up his sleeve.

several, as a matter of fact. his hero name reveal. his apology, if he chooses to give it now (though I could see him waiting for a more sincere moment, rather than whipping it out now when it could be misconstrued as a manipulation tactic). but perhaps most importantly...

never underestimate the power of an iconic role reversal. because that's what I'm getting at here, if it wasn't clear lol. this probably would have worked better if I had a picture of him actually reaching out to Deku. but I mean, that's kind of the point lol. I don't have one because he hasn't done it yet. BUT CAN YOU IMAGINE. good luck withstanding that, Deku.

so yeah. look at all that. he really is a one-man Deku-saving army. which is not to say that the other kids won't have a part to play as well, or that it's not important for them to be there, because it is. but as far as the lead role goes, it's Kacchan. like that astronaut meme guy says. always has been.

oh and as a bonus he was smart enough to finally leave the mask at home today lol. LET DEKU SEE THE SINCERITY IN YOUR EYES. YESSSSSSS.