#the ending was not the direction i had planned

[knife-enby]

Image ID: a comment from user figgypuddings reading: Adding on to the plan B point: MAKE SURE YOU READ THE WEIGHT REQUIREMENTS. Plan B is made for people under 160lbs and shows to be less effective if over this limit. There is an alternative called Ella for us plus sized folks which you can also still access online rn /end ID Description Writer's Note: in this version of the post, OP's original post is edited to include the information this commenter added. you can copy and paste this image description in any other reblog if you do not want the rest of my post commentary.

compilation of additional points from the notes:

if you have pride stickers on your car, backpack, etc. and do not feel like you will be safe in your community these next 4 years, go scrape them off now

keep asserting (to yourself and your allies) facts about the situation which are likely to be skewed by propaganda. look for information from sources you trust and find reliable

be cautious, but build community. find people you CAN trust. we cannot hunker down and be isolated -- they want us to be isolated. safety in numbers. love is necessary to grow

in addition to "abortion", don't say someone had a "miscarriage", either. several people in the notes are suggesting this may also be dangerous for the person's safety

surviving is the most important thing you can do right now. stay alive, by any means necessary.

lastly, i'd like to add some thoughts of my own:

if one is cruel and wants power, one of the most important things they must do to achieve it is break the people they want to control down. physically, emotionally, spiritually. exhausted people are easy to control; desperate people are easy to direct. things are rough right now, and lashing out is often much, much easier than any of us would like to admit. it is vital to our survival that all of us find joy, ways to unwind, victories in our personal life, and tangible forms of good. otherwise, we become susceptible to despair.

if you start feeling restless and agitated from looking at the news, you need to step away from the news and find something materially good you can do in your community. you can't make the news stop happening, but you can volunteer at a shelter for a weekend. you can go pick up trash by the lake. do something, anything with your body that makes you feel like you're capable of making a change. the news will paralyze you and then slowly kill you. social media and doomscrolling will, too. talk to someone. breathe. go to a library. do anything other than succumb to helplessness and hopelessness.

things can be okay again. i believe that genuinely. we'll get through this together, you and me.

reminders for today:

if you or someone you know might need it in the next few years, purchase plan b. the shelf life of plan b is 4 years, and we might not be able to access it as easily as we can now in the days ahead.

if you are larger/plus size: go online and purchase ella instead of plan b. plan b is less effective if you aren’t under 160 pounds.

if you can, purchase books that project 2025 is looking to ban.

mass deportations are starting. if you see ice vehicles or agents, yell ice raid and la migra as loud as you can.

if someone asks who you voted for, keep your mouth shut. they’re fishing for traitors.

if anyone, anyone at all asks about your neighbors or their legal status in the us, you know nothing. don’t be the reason that their family is separated.

if anyone asks about your religion or lack thereof, keep it vague. this administration will look for any excuse to persecute you.

your friends are trans or queer? for the next four years they’re not. don’t expose anyone’s status as a trans or queer person to anyone else, even if you think you can trust them.

did someone you know get an abortion? no, they didn’t. they were never pregnant.

in short, don’t be a snitch, and keep to yourself these next four years. we’ll make it through this even if it seems hopeless at times.

this is all i can think of at the moment, but i’ll be adding on to this as the day continues.

we can survive this. we’ve survived before, and we’ll survive again.

[fear-is-truth]

BEING IN A POLY RELATIONSHIP WITH THANOS & NAM-GYU l headcanons

pairing — thanos x reader x nam-gyu warnings — (mild) s2 spoilers. smut author’s note — i wrote some corny lyrics for this lol

──⟢  fear-is-truth — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

thanos recruited you into his “team” because of his attraction to you. the rapper didn’t try to hide that he found you hot, and he made sure you knew it, throwing compliments your way. his flirting was over-the-top and shameless. he’d call you “senorita” or “babe” in a sing-song voice, leaning in close to make sure you couldn’t ignore him. his favourite move was to serenade you with cheesy raps that made everyone cringe.

one day, thanos sidles up to you, a wide, cocky-ass smirk plastered on his face. he’s got his hands on his hips, like he’s about to drop the hottest bars in the universe. “yo, senorita,” he starts, “you’re the queen of my world, can’t you see? ain’t no one gonna take my throne, you and me, together, baby, we’re destiny!” while nam-gyu, in the background, is rolling his eyes so hard he could probably see the back of his skull. but thanos keeps going, totally into it, “baby, we can rule the game, you and i, got them all thinking i’m the reason they’ll die. you’ll be my queen, i’ll be your king, together we’ll make this whole thing sing!” it’s a miracle you don’t combust from secondhand embarrassment.

nam-gyu, as thanos’s second-in-command, was pissed from the start. in the beginning, it seemed like he was just territorial—angry that you were disrupting the group dynamic. he’d throw side comments like, “oh, great, now we’ve got a distraction,” and give you cold, assessing looks. his irritation was obvious, especially when thanos started giving you preferential treatment, like sitting beside you during meals or casually throwing an arm over your shoulder during group talks.

he tried to act more “mature” than thanos (spoiler: he wasn’t). his idea of flirting was to act tough, which mostly involved bullying weaker players to look impressive. it was like watching a middle schooler try to flex for their crush. in reality, he just looks like an asshole, and you feel annoyed by his attempts to bully someone into submission to show off. he catches your disapproving glare and immediately tries to backtrack, but it just makes it worse.

thanos wasn’t subtle about his future plans for you. “after we win this thing, you’re coming with me,” he promised you confidently. “i’ll make you my official girl. the fans will eat it up—thanos and his queen.” he didn’t ask if you wanted that, just assumed you’d go along with it lol. nam-gyu, on the other hand, played dirtier. when thanos wasn’t around, he tried to plant seeds of doubt in your mind, leaning in to whisper confidentially. “he’s a scumbag, you know. all talk, no loyalty. don’t let him fool you,”

during meals, both of them insisted on sitting next to you, even if it meant practically wrestling each other to the ground. there were no tables, just groups eating near the bunk beds or stairs leading up to them, and you always ended up sandwiched between the two guys. thanos would slouch with his arm around your shoulders, smirking at anyone who looked your way. nam-gyu would mutter snide comments under his breath, low enough for you to hear, but not enough for thanos to notice.

then came the game “mingle,” where the players had to group up based on a random number announced over the PA system. when the voice said “two,” both thanos and nam-gyu grabbed your arm at the same time. “she’s going with me,” thanos barked, pulling you toward him. “what the fuck about me?” nam-gyu shot back, tugging you in the opposite direction. if it hadn’t been for se-mi, who quickly pulled you into a room with her (the two boys found a room next to you), the four of you would’ve fucking died.

the tension escalated at night. at first, both of them insisted on sleeping next to your bunk bed. but as time went on, they started fighting over who got to sleep in your bed. it started as bickering—“move, she doesn’t want you here,” nam-gyu would snap, trying to shove thanos aside. “speak for yourself, bro,” thanos would shoot back, climbing up anyway. it’s like a power struggle between two self-proclaimed alpha males, but it’s over you, which just feels awkward. each one tries to subtly imply their superiority by making the argument about who has the better “qualifications” to be your bunkmate. eventually, the rivalry reached its peak when they both tried to squeeze into your bed at the same time. you ended up stuck between them, neither willing to back down, and neither particularly caring how uncomfortable it made you.

despite the rivalry, the situation eventually settles into some sort of… equilibrium. neither thanos nor nam-gyu backed down completely, but they seemed to reach an unspoken agreement. the two of them started “sharing” you, like some fucked up custody arrangement.

you start to realise that maybe—just maybe—this unholy triangle might not be such a bad thing after all. meal time turned into a prelude for something else entirely. when everyone was distracted, one of them would catch your eye, silently signaling for you to follow. you’d find yourself slipping away to meet them in the bathroom stall.

thanos is all energy, and unable to shut up—being balls deep inside you, his dirty talk came easily, an endless stream of words that tumbled out in rapid succession, that had you equal parts flustered and irritated. especially with how careless he was. you’d have to kiss him just to silence him, pressing your lips to his until his words were replaced by muffled groans. whenever you grabbed his hair, his reaction was instant—a breathy whimper that only seemed to spur him on more. but almost as quickly as the sound left his lips, he was smirking, leaning in to tease you. “don’t mess it up, baby,” he’d warn, his voice playful yet smug. “this shit cost a lot to style.”

nam-gyu, in contrast, was rougher and far less interested in theatrics. he wasn’t one for words—far too focused to waste time on anything unnecessary. he had you pinned firmly against the partition wall, the cool surface digging into your back as beads of perspiration formed along his brow. the thin structure trembled violently under the sheer force of his movements, creaking with every thrust as though it might give way at any second. the silence between you was broken only by a few curses and grunts that escaped him.

[vvanillal]

𓄹⠀𓈒⠀ㅤׄ Forbidden Desires꣑ৎ 𓄹⠀𓈒⠀ㅤׄ

Summary- You and Harry were supposed to be ‘Causal’.

Warnings- Harry Potter x F!Reader, Angst, Smut, Jealous!Harry, Possessive!Harry If You Squint, Fingering, Eating Out

Word Count- 2.6k!

A/N- AHHHH ANOTHER HARRY SMUT. I loved writing this one. Also don’t mind that the reader is a Slytherin 2 fics in a row. MY REQUEST ARE OPEN

It was a secret: you and Harry. You’d both made a promise to each other not to say anything. You also made another promise: no strings attached. It was hard, truly. Especially since it had been Harry. He could have any woman he wanted, and for some reason he chose to be… something, with you.

At first, it went fine. You could even say it was the happiest you’d been in a while; sneaking around with Harry. He would do sweet things, like pass you notes in classes you shared. ‘You look beautiful today,” one had read. That day, all you did was curl your hair; you hadn’t even put makeup on. Then, it became something he would just do. You were sure people noticed in class, when you’d giggle to yourself with a little piece of paper in your hand. You’d just be walking in the hallway some days, and feel someone pull you into a darkened corner. Harry, or you, were never even sure it was ‘safe’, but you never heard any talk about it. So you kept doing it. After every class, you looked forward to feeling a hand jerk you away from the crowd. He’d push you against the cold, brick wall, pressing himself against you as close as possible. His lips would nip at your neck, trying not to leave marks. Your breath would be heavy as you tried to be as quiet as possible. “Harry, we’re going to be late,” you’d whisper. “I just need to feel you for a few more seconds,” he’d whisper back, his lips parted against your collarbone. Each time, he touched you like he hadn’t in days. Harry craved you, all day every day.

Just like you expected though, the happiness didn’t last long. Soon, it became apparent that for Harry, you couldn’t breathe in the same direction as another man. You could tell when he was mad; you could see it in the way his stare was hardened with yours, and you could feel it in the way his touch was rough enough to leave bruises. “Harry? I know you’re upset, so tell me what’s wrong,” you said one day. You watched as he slammed his books shut and shoved them into his backpack; everyone else cleared from the classroom. His leg had been bouncing the whole class, and his fist was clenched on top of the table. He clenched them so hard his knuckles had turned white. “Don’t act dense, Y/N.” You watched as he stormed out of the classroom, leaving you to dwell. That had been the first time he’d genuinely been upset. It didn’t take you long to connect the dots, realizing the pattern. He’d only act like this when he caught you socializing with another man.

This particular time though had left the two of you not talking for days. You and Neville talked a little too much at dinner, apparently. And apparently Neville fixing your hair after it was sticking up, was too much. You weren’t going to listen to Harry criticize him when he was one of your friends. Once you admitted Neville had been one of your friends, he stormed off to his bedroom. He hasn’t talked to you since, Harry.

You didn't know when Harry was going to talk to you, but by the looks of it, he hadn't planned to. You watched him from the end of the Slytherin table as he flirted with Ginny. Sure, he had always been flirty with other girls; because of course, you two were casual. But he hadn’t flirted like this. He was touchy, way too touchy. And he walked Ginny to every class, and you were sure you had seen them kiss. Or they were about to, you looked before you could watch the rest.

The truth was, Harry wasn’t casual to you. You had feelings for him, real feelings. Countless nights you had cried over his hurtful actions, and then the next day he was sweet. It was a never ending cycle. It wasn’t like you could talk to people about it; you truly kept the secret, not even telling your best friend. You could never bring yourself to tell Harry how you felt, because you were sure he didn’t feel the same. You were sure he just thought of you as casual.

It had been exactly a week, today, since you and Harry had spoken. And you are certain now that he didn’t give a shit about you anymore. It was going to be hard, going to watch the Quidditch match later, and acting like you didn’t support him. Harry knew before whose side you were on, whether or not you were in a different house or not. But that’s what you did; you went to the Quidditch match and pretended you loved that Gryffindor was losing.

The match was intense. It had always been this way for Slytherin Vs. Gryffindor, but today was just different. Harry wasn’t playing like he normally would. He seemed slower on his broom, and he still hadn’t caught the snitch. You couldn’t stop watching him, because every once in a while, his eyes would meet with yours in the stands. The match halfway over, and still neither of the seekers had caught the snitch. But then, Harry spotted it, and he was after it. The opposing seeker was right on his tail though, following him intently. Harry reached out and tried to grab the snitch, but he missed. The Slytherin seeker took a shortcut, suddenly, and cut off Harry. Apparently Harry wasn’t watching very well though, because they bumped into each other. And apparently he wasn’t holding on very well either, because he’d fallen from his broom. The Slytherin seeker smirked, and was off after the snitch once more. You let your hand cover your mouth, listening to the eruptions of whispers around you. You stood on your tippy toes to see Harry sitting on the ground, his hand covering the right side of his forehead. He was okay. He’d just gotten a cut it looked like. You couldn’t resist going to check on him though, even if it was just a little cut. You saw him get up from the sandy ground, and found yourself pushing between people. “Excuse me, sorry- Excuse me,” you said as you made your way across the stands, watching Harry go back into the Gryffindor locker loom. The game looked to be resuming though.

You looked behind you to make sure no one was following you into the locker room, and you saw Harry sitting on the bench with a paper towel against his cut. He looked up, seeing who walked in, and his eyes softened for a split second at the sight of a worried you, and then turned into a glare. It was beginning to be a classic for him. “You know you’re not supposed to be in here, Y/N,” your name was like poison escaping from his lips. “Harry please, don’t act like this.” That’s all you could say, it was the only words you could find. You hadn’t even meant to come off so desperate, but you know you did. He scoffed, flipping over the towel to the clean side. The towel was soaked with blood. “Jesus Harry, let me see,” you said with concern, walking over to him quickly. He didn’t protest, lifting the towel enough for you to see. It was a nasty cut, small, but nasty. You looked around the room for anything as you saw a door with a first aid kit hanging on it. “Come here,” you said, grabbing his wrist. He stood up, but jerked his hand back. “I’m not fucking incapable of walking,” he snapped. You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t.

The room was small, a little bit bigger than what’s considered to be a large pantry. Backed up against the back wall was an infirmary bed, with 2 chairs beside each end. And behind the door was a sink, with a cabinet above it. “Sit down,” you said, grabbing the first aid kit off the door, closing it and walking over to the sink. You looked through the cabinet for sterile saline to clean his wound; unmistakably feeling his eyes watching you. You found the saline, and gauze along with it. You stood between his legs, dabbing his wound with the wet gauze. He winced, and his face scrunched in pain. The pushing together of his skin only made it bleed more. “Hold pressure,” you said, and Harry did as you said. You dug through the first aid kid and found wound closing tape, exactly what you needed. You got a new gauze, wetting it with saline again.

“Harry, we can’t keep doing this,” you broke the silence, trying to get the wound to stop bleeding; “I can’t keep doing this,” you rephrased. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, his eyes locked with yours. “I know you don’t give a shit anymore. It’s been obvious for a while. I wish you would just end things properly instead of giving me false hope and then continuing to fuck other girls,” your voice was shaky. This was hard. You applied the tape after his wound stopped bleeding, but you didn’t move from your spot. You only backed up to give him room; and Harry still sat on the bed. “What are you talking about, Y/N,” he raised his voice, his eyes darkening. “Oh please, don’t act like I haven’t seen you and Ginny. Don’t act like I didn’t see you kiss her in the hallway. How many more are there that I’m not seeing,” you scoff, arms crossing over your chest to comfort yourself. “You’re ridiculous,” he said, laughing mockingly. That had done it… he’s just pissed you off. “No YOU are ridiculous. We’re supposed to be casual, but I didn’t know that it came with rules. I didn’t know you would get pissed off when I breathed in another man’s direction. This is tiring Harry, truly. I can’t keep doing this and getting hurt,” you were crying now. Whenever he didn’t say anything, you shook your head, “we’re done,” you said. You turned on your heels, ready to walk out.

Just before you could get the door open, you felt Harry grab your wrist, pulling you back and against the wall. “I don’t like seeing you cry,” he said, cageing you between his body and the wall. Then, you slapped him across the face, and you didn’t know why. You hadn’t even thought about it, you just did it. “It’s your fault,” you spat. His hand came up to the side of his cheek, feeling the hotness your hand left behind. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said, his hand now coming to the side of your face, letting his thumb caress your cheek. “No you’re not. This was never casual for me, Harry. I feel things for you… I have feelings for you,” you admit, raising your voice in front of a rather calm Harry. You open your mouth to say more, but he cuts you off with his lips against yours. You push him back as quickly as you could, “Don’t you dare. You’re dirty, Harry. It’s untelling how many other people you’ve kissed in the past few days,” you scream, pointing a finger at him. You were kind of being a hypocrite now. He just engulfs your hands in his. “I haven’t kissed anyone else, Y/N. I haven’t touched anyone else,” he says softly, looking at you with equally soft eyes. “Why do you keep hurting me then? And how do you explain Ginny, ” you ask, sniffling. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to. I just can’t stand to see you even talking to another guy. I feel nothing for Ginny. I swear it was only to make you jealous. I have feelings for you too, Y/N. Can’t you see that?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. You couldn’t even think at that point. You grab his face roughly, smashing your lips against his. He returns the energy, instantly deepening the kiss by squeezing your waist. You feel for the doorknob, locking it. “I’m so sorry,” he said between kisses. “Shut up,” you moan.

He lets his hand slip onto your back, guiding you to the infirmary bed, his lips never leaving yours. Your ass hits the back of the bed, and you moan as his tongue enters your mouth. “Let me repay you,” he says, breaking the kiss just to begin kissing your neck. You moan at his words, “how?” He drops to his knees, looking up at you with big eyes full of desire. You get the message, quickly pulling down your skirt. He groans at the sight of your red, lace panties, “you’re still so perfect,” he whispers. His eyes just looked hungry now.

You throw your leg over his shoulder, letting your thigh rest on the space. You tangle your hands in his hair as he presses a kiss to your clothed clit. “I missed you so much,” you say, lips parting at the sight of him looking up at you. He moves your lace to the side, his wet mouth coming in contact with your clit. You shiver at the coldness, pulling at the strands of his hair, producing a groan from him. The vibrations went straight to your core, causing you to whimper in delight.

This wasn’t the first time he ate you out, and it surely wouldn’t be the last. He loved doing it, and every time he did, he ate you out like it was his last meal. He loved watching your face twist in pleasure, and hearing the sweet sounds leave your lips. It was no different this time.

His tongue worked against your sensitive bud; even more sensitive now from getting nothing for a week. You nearly scream when you feel two of his fingers push past your entrance. “Fuck Harry, just like that,” you whine. Your legs were beginning to become weak from the pleasure. You look down at him and find him watching you, observing the pleasure he was giving you. He curled his fingers in your cunt, and you had to cover your mouth. You feared the people all the way outside, in the stands, would hear you. You bring your free hand up and begin touching your clothed nipples. Harry moaned against your clit at the sight.

“I’m so close, Harry,” you moan, not caring how loud you were being now. He inserted another finger in you, and curled his fingers once more, pushing them in and out. He felt for your sweet spot, until he found it. “Shit,” you moan, throwing your head back. You didn’t know whether to focus on the feeling of his tongue flicking sweetly against your clit, or the feeling of his fingers pulsing into you. Either way, you were close. He knew this already, you didn’t have to tell him. He could feel you clench around his fingers. “I’m gonna-” you came before you could even finish your sentence. “Fuck,” you groan, the feeling of your orgasm overtaking your body. Your legs shook weakly.

After the feeling of your orgasm subsided, you freed your leg from his shoulder, and he stood up, helping you put on your skirt. “Am I forgiven,” he said, a smirk on his face as he licked you off of his fingers. You watch him, heat rising to your cheeks. “I’m going to do better,” he said, pulling you closer to him. “You’re forgiven,” you said, smiling. The sound of celebrating Gryffindors could be heard coming into the locker room. Apparently they had made a comeback. How were you going to explain why Harry’s hair was messed up, and why both of you were red, and why you had taken so long for such a small cut, and most importantly why you were in the locker room.

[whadawhaaa]

Its been two weeks since the last earth-shaking explosion rattled the bunker my family has been holed up in during the war. The past three years have felt like a blur, a monotonous chant that I can't even remember the words to.

Most days consisted of mom quietly humming as she swept away the dirt, her hair seemingly becoming more gray and frazzled each time the bunker rumbled and dirt fell from the ceiling, extending the chore like a never ending loop. My younger brother spent most of his time playing through my old DS games, not like we had internet the moment the first bomb dropped. The first few weeks he would ask "How much longer" hourly and he seemed restless, complaining about the processed food and canned veggies we had to sustain on. As the weeks turned to months, eventually years he too became silent.

I remember my dad, explaining to Mom the action plan, helping us pack our emergency bags and sending us on our way. He told us he would see us soon, but I think we all lost hope within the first few months, even though my mom still tells my brother how Dad will be so happy to see us when we finally reunite on the surface

"This is different," I remember Dad's words as he looked up to the sky before seeing us off, "I promise you will be safe, I promise I will see you soon." With one last bear hug, off we went. Somewhere in the middle of nowhere after hours of driving Mom pulled off to the side of the road. The Pacific-northwest wilderness all around us.

"Where are we?" I looked up from my phone, immediately noticing the tears running down her cheeks, "...Mom?"

"We have to walk the rest of the way," she said, obviously trying to keep her voice from trembling. "Your dad has left markers, he told me I would recognize them."

She took a deep breath, "Grab your brother and your bags, I'll get the first aid kits and the rest of the supplies."

We got out and I opened the back seat, "Come on, Cam," unbuckling him from the car seat. He was so much smaller, only five when it all ended. "Time to walk!"

We trekked through the cold for what seemed like hours in one direction and then my mom stopped.

"There," she pointed at a pine off to the right, etched into it were to letters. "N + C" I immediately recognized mine and Cameron's initials.

As we walked towards it I could see Mom's eyes darting around, scanning quickly and taking in every detail of the area, "Nic, I need you to help me find-" she cut off as in the distance she points at another tree with the same initials, "There!" she started running, "Look for them, Nic, we need to go!"

We followed tree after tree for miles, and eventually came to a clearing with a large boulder in the middle. My mother has been a stay at home mom for as long as I can remember, but she began digging around the pine needles and dirt at the base of the rock, as if years of training were kicking in.

Finally with an "Aha!" and some tugging at the base of it, a small tremor began, a hatch lifted about twenty feet away.

"Nic, I know we haven't explained much to you at this point, but I need you to be strong, your fifteen now and I don't know how long we are going to be here." Mom looked both terrified and stern at the same time, "We will be here until Dad comes and gets us, there is a very big war that is about to happen. Do you understand?"

I looked into the shadows beyond the hatch, "Are we mole people now?"

A small wave of humor wiped across her face "Nic, this is not the time for jokes, but yes"

Ever since then the bunker has been home. We listened and waited, stocks of canned and dehydrated goods sustaining us as the ground shook around us day after day for years. When the first day came without a bomb being dropped I don't think any of us realized, after three days Mom put Cameron down for bed and motioned for me to follow her out of the small bunk room we shared.

"Its been days now, do you think its safe?" My voice was raspy, I couldn't remember the last time I spoke aloud. Weeks? Months?

"I-I don't know," she turned to me with same terrified stern look she had two years before. I realized the pressure we were under, and not just from being fifty feet below the surface. "We need to wait until your father-"

"Mom, when are you going to stop acting as if he survived? We need to figure this out." Did anyone else survive? Who won the war? How long do we wait.

"Nic, it is very important that we wait, your dad is a very resourceful man and if he said he will come to us then I believe him" She walked towards the ladder in the corner of the room and looked up from where we climbed down.

"How long?" I asked bluntly, "How long do we sit here hiding before we accept he didn't survive? Something up there has been shaking us out in the middle of nowhere for years" I start to realize the time we've spent in the dark, disconnected, "There are so many things that could be happening and we cannot guarantee anything!"

"Two weeks." she said, without looking away from the only way up. "I will wait two weeks, and if no more tremors we can go to the surface. I will go to the surface and check if its safe."

Here I am, two weeks later trying to sleep as anxiety rips through me and what is going to happen tomorrow when we wake up. Will it be safe? Is there anyone left? Slowly as I drift to sleep, these unanswered questions exhausting me I feel a small tug. No, not a tug, a lift, as if a small wave pulled me above water briefly. My eyes snap open and I look at the battery clock next to my bunk, its time.

I walk out and I see my mom standing in the main room, dressed as if she had somewhere to go for the first time in months, and she did.

"I'm going up," she said, "Watch Cameron and I'll be right back down." She picked up a small device off the kitchen table, turning it on made it click and whistle, then silence. "I need to see if we are in danger from radiation."

She grabs the metal ladder, her foot on the first rung, "If its safe, we need to hope the car is where we left it otherwise we will be walking for a while" she began to climb up into the darkness.

After about ten minutes when I heard the hatch opening echo down the tunnel and again I felt the tug, stronger this time. It felt as if I was standing in the ocean and a wave tried to lift me off of my feet, I felt a tingling sensation course though me and release as if shooting out of my fingertips. When I heard the hatch close the sensation almost immediately cut off, "Shit." I said aloud, thinking to myself it must be radiation. I grew more and more anxious as I heard Mom's steps get closer and closer to the bottom until she appeared from the dark.

"Its-" She paused, turning around her face looking like a mix of confused and stressed, "Its clear, no traces at all."

Then what was that feeling? I must've looked a certain way while thinking and Mom read me like a book.

"I don't know what the was when I opened the hatch, Nic, but you're right. We cannot sit and wait until our food supply is gone, we need to find help." She grabs our bags and sets them on the table, quickly gathering supplies. "Go get Cameron ready."

We gather everything and I get Cameron dressed, he asks a hundred questions I don't have the answer to and I just keep telling him we need to go back to the car. Finally, we get go up. Mom first, then Cameron, then me. Slowly making our way through the dark until Mom stops below the hatch. Our dimly lit abode below us looks like a small speck five stories below us.

"My arms hurt!" Cameron whines.

"Give me just a sec to-hah! Found it!" The hatch clicks and Mom pushes it open letting in a burst of light and fresh air. My body feels light again, a sudden rush pushes me and I feel like I'm going to shoot straight up like a cork in a bottle.

We crawl out and everything looks surprisingly familiar. The air feels crisp with a slight tinge of fall and wet pine needles to give me an idea of the time of year. The sensation continues to pull me upwards, I feel pressure building as if I'm a balloon being pushed under water. The tingling sensation feels as if it is concentrated on the tips of my fingers and I look down and-

"Mom, what's going on!?" I hold up my hand and as I do sparks begin to shoot from it, no pain only pressure.

"I-I don't know Nic, are you ok? Does it hurt?" She looks horrified, "Shake it off!"

I start shaking my hand, I feel tears welling up even though I don't feel hurt, just scared. The sparks fade. I look down at my hand and see light blue lines tracing along my veins and fading up my arm. I reach out and the outlines pulse as if alive. My hand is no longer shooting sparks and I move my fingers to make sure everything is ok. They meet friction when I move them, something that feels almost like my old guitar strings pushing against my fingers, a clump of chords in my hand when I ball it into a fist. I reach out slowly and run my index finger down as if to strum the invisible instrument, quickly with each passing chord, a faint blue line lights up as I move downward, one by one lighting up and fading fast behind.

I take a step forward, and besides the pressure inside my chest, there is nothing stopping me moving. I take a swing with my hand and like a harp, the faint chords appear vertically behind the motion, fading as quickly as they appeared.

A voice rings through my mind, a voice like music.

"You have a natural talent, you understand the magic coursing through you as a beautiful song waiting to be played"

"Who are you?!" I say aloud.

"Nic, who are you talking to?" Mom looks so scared, Cam looks up at me, his eyes bright with curiosity.

"Its been a long time since I have been awake in this world, so many voices, too many for me to handle. At last I can hear the music through all of the noise!"

"If you don't tell me who you are, I-I-" I stammer out, not knowing what I would do if the voice doesn't give me an answer.

"Calm down, child. I am not here to hurt you, in fact I am your savior, your muse. Soon you will understand, soon you will play such beautiful songs for me, you will compose symphonies for my orchestra. For I, child, am Mystra."

The magic weave is real, every human pulls from it. But the vast Ocean that is the weave is not infinite and as the human population rises the power one can pull from the weave becomes almost non existent. Earth just faced a apocalyptic event that wiped out 80% of humanity and you feel the weave

[yutarot]

cozy. n.jm

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ childhood bff!jaemin, snowboarding au, fwb, sfw

synopsis. you and jaemin have been inseparable since you were children. when you and a few of your friends go on your annual mountain ski trip, the air grows tense when they find out that you and jaemin have been sleeping together. so what happens when an overnight snowstorm extends your trip, bringing a sudden change of plans and a very unlikely guest to your vacation: jaemins crush. will your friendship survive within the cold presence of snow or will it melt away once the sun rises.

wc: 6.8k

warnings. implied sex, suggestive, language, jaemin sucks, miscommunication (sorry), yn is wayy too nice in this

notes — ty to the anon who gave me this idea hehe i immeeediately thought of jaemin so i had to write it. i hope u enjoy this it was fun to write (also ended up being way longer than i expected butttt oh well)

the trip started 4 days ago. 

you always loved your winter ski trips. you loved the way the snow glistened under the sun, illuminating the sky line in a crisp peach orange. you loved the way you could become carefree, no worries of college or having to pick up extra shifts at the cafe. it was always perfect, a spirited culmination of a frosty vacation. 

like usual, you unpacked at lightning speed, occupying the room directly between jaemin and jisung and opposite chenle. as kids, you and mark used to argue over who got the room that you stay in, it being the only room in the cabin with a double bed, but after many years of relentless fighting, you always managed to beat him.

the five of you have been friends since before you could remember, constant pranks and silliness as kids soon became reliability and comfort as you grow into your late teens. but now that you all attend college together, you’re closer than ever.

admittedly, you’ve always been closer to jaemin than the rest, your childhood homes being next to each other, serving as a reason for you to play out in the street each evening after school. even as you entered high school and eventually college, you stayed close, despite jaemin’s tendencies to sleep around with girls and eventually ghost them soon after.

you would be mad at jaemin’s exploits, but you can’t exactly say that being mad at someone’s past actions is entirely justifiable, especially since his playboy behaviour has recently become less frequent.

the air in the cabin is surprisingly warm, a crisp layer of frost encasing the windows and blocking the breeze of snow as it falls upon the mountain that the cabin rests between. the sky, once blue, is now an iridescent hue of orange, reflecting off the snow on the ground and pulsing through the window and onto the wooden walls around you, making them glow. it is an utterly beautiful place, and you thank chenle’s parents for letting you stay here each winter unsupervised.

as you walk through the walkway and into the main room, you spot chenle upon the sofa, browsing the old vintage tv for any channels that don’t bore him profusely. mark and jaemin are playing a game of chess on the floor, resting themselves upon fluffy white cushions and muttering snarky comments to each other under their breaths. noticing your presence, chenle clears his throat, causing mark to look up at you, and eventually, jaemin to spin his body round in your direction.

“i’m bored.” you say, “that tv looks way too old to function and i don’t know how to play chess.” 

chenle speaks first, “well, i mean, maybe if you actually spend some time with us, you might have some fun.”

“sounds like a blast.” you say sarcastically, “i just think we should go out and do something in the snow instead of just being all cooped up in here for the third day in a row.”

“it’s too cold.” jaemin utters, “usually it’s not this bad.”

“and? just put on an extra layer.” you reply, looking to mark for help.

sighing, mark speaks up to agree with you, and with his help, you eventually manage to convince chenle and jaemin to go and wake up jisung, before layering up and grabbing your snowboards from the shed behind the cabin.

as you all walk across the mountain to the ski area, occasionally partaking in a small snowball fight on the way, you hurl yourselves onto the ski lifts.

you sit in between jaemin and mark, ignoring mark’s teasing as you struggle to get yourself seated.

once the lift begins to climb, you feel an immediate sense of calm. you’ve always enjoyed these trips, a moment of relaxation away from home, all with your favourite people. it is true that you wish you could bring your girl friends along, but they all hate the boys with a passion for multiple, various (and valid) reasons, and so, with their permission, you go without them.

lost in your own thoughts, you don’t notice as you suddenly begin to slip from the ski lift, the bar doing absolutely nothing to keep you in place.

“yn?”, you hear jaemin’s voice beside you, a weird sense of distress lining his voice as he quickly grabs a hold of your arm, attempting to lift you back onto the seat.

but it’s no use, the snowboard beneath you weighs you down and you slip from his grasp.

“mark, she’s slipping.” jaemin urges the other boy beside you.

“shit.”

they both try to bring you up, but as you get higher and higher to the top of the slope, the ground begins to find your feet, pulling you down with it.

you stumble before landing upside down into the snow, luckily not sliding anywhere, but unfortunately feeling a sudden frosty chill as piles and piles of snow seep into your clothing and down your back.

noticing your discomfort, jaemin bends down, lifting your face to his and, with a gentle smile, he brushes your snow-covered hair from your face.

“it’s… everywhere.” you shiver.

“everywhere?” jaemin asks.

you roll your eyes. “not the time for jokes.”

it takes you a while to notice mark standing behind jaemin, but when you do, you tell them both to continue on without you and that you’ll find your own way back to the cabin to change your clothes.

nodding after making sure that you’re okay, mark leaves to snowboard down the slope, leaving you and jaemin as you sit, still shaking, covered in ice and snow.

“i’m gonna-“ you say, getting up.

jaemin interrupts. “let me help you.”

“i don’t need help.” you reply.

there is a moment of silence before jaemin speaks again, as if he is choosing his words carefully.

“i know a better way to warm you up.”

your face lines in an expression of shock.

“we promised we wouldn’t do it here.” you say, “what if one of the others see something?”

“they won’t.” he smiles at you before pointing in the direction of the others, all enjoying themselves drifting down the snow, swerving in all kinds of directions.

it doesn’t take much for you to give in. so when you get back to the cabin, eventually changing into some fresh clothes that will eventually be pointless, jaemin turns out to be right.

he does know a way to warm you up.

his request didn’t surprise you, and you’re unsure if the others finding out that you and jaemin have been secretly hooking up for the past year is an all too bad thing. but at the thought of them having a little bit too much fun potentially teasing you both, you decided to keep it on the down-low.

it was never supposed to happen; you and jaemin are best friends. but after jaemin’s vow to stop playing with girls’ hearts and your fresh break up with your ex, you both decided that the logical thing to do is to use each other when you need it. it was simple.

over the past year, you have established 3 main rules for your ‘friends with benefits’ situation. number 1: you and jaemin can both sleep with other people if you so wish, number 2: no feelings are involved, if one person begins to feel anything for the other, then you must break it off. (this one isn’t and never will be a problem for you two, but you need to add it there anyway; you’ve heard the stories about jaemin the ‘serial heartbreaker’, and you definitely don’t want to be a victim of that) and number 3: no sleeping together during the winter ski trip. right now, you are breaking a rule, and neither you, nor jaemin, seem to care. it does scare you a little, however, considering how easily jaemin was willing to break it, and it has you wondering how strong the other rules even are.

after cleaning yourself up, you make your way to the kitchen to make yourself and jaemin a hot chocolate, sprinkling far too much powdered chocolate on the whipped cream and having to clear up all your mess soon after. jaemin follows you into the kitchen, pulling his shirt back over his head.

“can i ask you something?” jaemin says, reaching his arm past you to scoop his finger into the whipped cream and swiping it onto your nose. you push him away, watching as he giggles at you frantically wiping the cream off your nose in annoyance.

“sure.” you reply, and he leans on the counter beside you.

“when was the last time you slept with someone else?”

if you say the question doesn’t surprise you, you’d be lying. jaemin knows you can sleep with other people, it’s part of your rules. so why do you feel as though you’re in trouble?

“last saturday. that party on joomi’s street. eric sohn.”

jaemin’s face is unreadable. you continue, “if you’re worried you have competition, i wouldn’t worry. it was just one night.” you laugh.

“oh, i’m not worried.” he replies, “especially after the way you were saying my name back in there.”

his head tilts to the side to point in the direction of your room and you look over on instinct, memories of the past 30 minutes flashing in your mind and causing you to forget what you were even about to say.

but when you look over to the doorway, something else catches your attention.

or someone else.

standing at the front door, snowboard in hand and ski mask pulled down to his chin, stands a mortified, and astonished mark lee.

you freeze up, and no longer from the cold chill of snow.

he has heard everything.

you’re completely fucked.

❆ ❆ ❆

pacing around the kitchen and watching as mark looks between you both, you begin to attempt to redeem yourself.

“look, mark, that wasn’t what it sounded like, me and jaemin would never.”

mark looks at you, skeptical, before turning his attention to jaemin, who stands in the back corner of the kitchen, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed as if none of this is bothering him.

mark looks back at you. “yoooo, i mean, i guess i always knew there was something off about you guys.”

you rush towards him, clutching his shoulders. “i promise you, mark, it’s not like that-”

“we’re fucking.” jaemin finally speaks, and yours and mark’s heads both whip towards him in shock. jaemin shrugs, as if it isn’t a big deal.

“jaemin.” you say sternly, “what are you doin-”

“what? he caught us, there’s no point in denying it.”

“this is unbelievable.” mark chuckles, “i gotta go tell the others.”

“no you don’t.” you say, grabbing a hold of his arm.

he rolls his eyes. “alright, but at least give me details, man. how long? when did it start? why?”

you look to jaemin, not wanting to answer for yourself.

“about a year,” he says, “and why not?”

“why not?!” mark exclaims in disbelief, “i don’t know, maybe the fact that you’re best friends? what if you end up catching-”

“not gonna happen.” says jaemin, “we dont see eachother like that, never will.”

mark only continues to laugh, “this is nuts. you guys haven’t been doing it all weekend, have you? i don’t think i wanna hear it if you guys end up getting busy while we’re all meant to be asleep.”

“nope,” you reply. “this is the first and only time we’ve done it here. we sort of made it a rule so that this wouldn’t happen.”

before you can finish your conversation, chenle walks through the door. “so what wouldn’t happen?” he says, scanning his eyes between yours and jaemin’s lack of outdoor wear compared to mark’s.

“nothing.” you reply.

“nothing?” he asks, studying mark and jaemin’s expressions.

there is a second where no one speaks, but that seems to be enough for chenle, because the next thing he says is: “you guys fucked, didn’t you?”

mark can’t keep in his smile as he tries not to laugh and give it away, but jaemin’s stern expression speaks volumes.

chenle shrugs before taking off his coat and making his way to the fridge, “ehh, was sort of obvious anyways.”

“what?” you exclaim, “how?”

his eyebrow raises as he takes a bite of the donut he had taken out its packet, “jaemin swearing off girls the same time as you breaking up with your ex, you constantly ditching our movie nights to ‘hang out with your cat,’ and jaemin suddenly changing from being an insufferable prick to actually being half nice.” jaemin lets out a laugh at the last comment. “i have more if you want me to continu-“

 “thats okay, no thank you,” you speak up, “first of all, jaemin is still an insufferable prick.”

“thanks.” jaemin butts in.

“no problem.” you turn your head to him quickly before you continue, causing the others to laugh. “and secondly, i do actually go to hang out with my cat. i love her.” you say, offended.

“whatever.” chenle replies, a judging expression on his face.

they both took the news a lot better than you thought, so you decide to let them tell jisung, who is undoubtedly the most surprised at the revelation. but jaemin’s silence throughout the whole conversation annoys you. you don’t understand why he was being so quiet about it. but when you hear mark and jaemin whispering amongst themselves while you were meant to be in the shower, your confusion peaked.

“this isn’t like you, man.” it sounded like mark’s voice.

“i know.” jaemin replied.

that’s all you heard.

for the rest of the night, you all wrap yourselves in blankets on the sofa to watch some movie that jisung wanted to watch, the fireplace emitting a radial heat and deep hue of ember, softening you into a state of tiredness, drifting off as your head rests on the hard sofa next to you.

it’s only after you wake up that you realize it is certainly not the sofa that you were lying against, but instead, jaemin’s shoulder.

you hear the melodic birdsong as it fills the air outside, the white of snow lighting up the room. or is it chenle’s hideous singing in the shower that you hear? it’s hard to tell.

breaking yourself from jaemins sleeping grasp, you get up to look out the window. you’re meant to go home today, this is supposed to be your final morning of the trip.

but as you peek your vision out the window, around 3 feet of snow covers the floor all around the cabin, the four wheels of marks camper van not even visible.

“uhm, guys..” you call out, grabbing the attention of a freshly showered chenle, a mid breakfast-making mark, a book occupied jisung and a half asleep jaemin. they all stop their various activities at the urgency in your voice, coming over to you and looking out the window for themselves.

it takes each of them about 5 minutes to process what this means; your trip is going to be extended. you are trapped.

and you may be trapped but yours and jaemins secret is very much free.

it finally hits 3pm and you realise that you have all spent the entire day enveloped in boredom, watching as the snow falls and continues to form on the ground. there is no way all this snow will clear in just a few days.

you are lucky that chenle had brought nearly double the amount of food that you needed originally, meaning all you had to do now was to sit and wait it out. 

lounging on the sofa, you listen to the smooth rhythm of chenles jazz vinyl playing on loop across the room. you’re bored, and you can’t even go outside. you can tell the others are bored too, that same expression of ‘i just want to go home now.’ plastered on all of their faces. 

but their expressions quickly flip when a knock rattles from the front door.

you all look at each other in question before collectively jumping up in sync, running at inhuman speeds to the door. you were about to be saved, removed from the shackles of dullness and provided passage back home. 

being the first to get to the door, you grab a hold of the handle, struggling in attempts to only slightly crack it open to keep the snow outside.

but when you open the door and poke your head through the crack, you’re met with a very familiar face.

hayun. also known as, jaemins long-time ‘secret’ infatuation: his crush. 

your mind shatters in disbelief as you pull the door fully open to let the other guys see who it is, no longer caring about the snow as it comes piling in.

all because the look on jaemins face is priceless.

the others all look to him to see what he’s going to say, and unsurprisingly, all he has to say is ‘hi.’ you wouldn’t expect more from him, he’s never spoken a word that exceeds a greeting to her before.

following jaemins poor attempt at an introduction, you take over.

“what are you doing here? are you okay?” you ask, genuine concern for the girl lining your voice. 

“well, i was here on a ski trip with my friends but, they all abandoned me.”

“what?” you ask. 

“and i remembered seeing a few of your guys’ instagram posts saying you were here so… i thought i’d knock.”

“wow.” mark says, “your friends suck.”

“i know. so, any chance i can stay here? i would go home but the weather isn’t exactly drivable.”

you turn to the rest of your group, concluding the pity in their faces before turning back to hayun. “of course! we don’t have a spare room and the sofa gets cold at night but i have a double bed if you don’t mind sharing.”

“thank you so much!” she grins before stepping inside and pulling you in for a hug. you cringe as you come into contact with the cold casing of her coat, the ice cool against your skin as you try not to push her off of you. 

in all honesty, you feel bad for her and you know that jaemin is about to get relentlessly bullied by the rest of the group. this was about to make your extended trip a whole lot more interesting.

it hasn’t been a long time since he developed a crush on hayun, spotting her across the other side of his lecture hall. he always gives you some excuse as to why he’s somehow never gotten a chance to speak to her, so you presume that he’s happy that he finally has. either that or completely terrified. either way, you’re happy for him.

yes, you are. you’re happy for him.

❆ ❆ ❆

a few hours pass as you show hayun around the cabin, making space for her things in your room. letting her unpack, you make your way to the front room, finding jaemin and mark on the sofa, seemingly midway through a conversation. 

“oh, don’t let me stop you.” you say, urging them to continue their talk after they cease talking at your arrival.

mark turns back to jaemin. “i think you should go for it, dude, what harm could come out of it, huh?” he says.

you’re curious, “you’re gonna ask her out?” you say to jaemin.

he smirks, “maybe, maybe not.”

somehow, something in your heart doesn’t like the idea of jaemin asking out hayun. you’re not sure if it’s the idea of you and him ending this whole ‘friends with benefits’ situation, or the fact that you’re probably going to have to step back from being his best friend, because, let’s face it, there’s no way she would ever let you stay as close as you now are if they got together.

you slap the idea out of your head; he hasn’t even asked her out yet. 

mark notices the internal battle you have with yourself. “something wrong with that, yn?”

if jaemin wasn’t here right now, blocking you from mark by sitting in between you, you one hundred percent would have punched him at that.

jaemin looks over to you, a questioning expression on his face. 

“uh.. no…” you reply, apprehensive.

“oh come on, i saw the face you just made. you’re jealous that he’s gonna be fucking someone else, aren’t you?” mark continues.

you don’t know what to say, caught off guard by the truth in marks words and the cold presence of jaemins gaze on you. 

“im not jel- “ you begin, but jaemin interrupts you. 

“yn.” he says. it’s just your name but it holds so much meaning. “am i not allowed to have a girlfriend?”

“‘course you can.” you reply, shrugging.

mark raises his eyebrow at you and you seriously consider getting up and kicking him. 

jaemin continues, “good. it's decided then. i'm gonna ask her out.” 

mark pats him on the back, laughing, “good luck, dude.”

you smile in acknowledgement as jaemin thanks mark before chenle comes in, completely changing the subject when he starts complaining about hayun’s infiltration of his ‘well organised fridge.’ 

you zone out their conversation to reassure yourself that you truly don't care that jaemin was going to try to get close to hayun, but you can't help but feel like you're about to be replaced. you always knew it was going to happen, that one day jaemin would want to settle down with a girl. but you're just so used to his playboy personality that you just never expected it to be so soon. 

amongst the endless drill of chatter, you feel a sudden glance in your direction, and as you look up, jaemins eyes suddenly divert away from you, as if he got caught looking. you want to ask him what he wants, but the silence in his demeanour tells you that you shouldn't. it's bittersweet; the end of his situation with you, marks the start of one with hayun. its a trade in which you don't want to be part of, but you fear you have no choice – only time can decide.

the rest of the day went by quickly. maybe it was because of your new addition to the vacation or simply because chenle found a cupboard full of dusty boardgames that you decided to occupy yourselves with. naturally, it was you and mark that beat everyone else at your very long, grueling game of monopoly, but that quickly flipped to jisung when you took your turns at scrabble. 

the entire time, you and mark teased jaemin relentlessly, catching glimpses as he (unwilling) took his seat next to hayun, pushed there by chenle and jisung and ending up on her team. you could tell that he was getting annoyed at you both giggling at him, but you didn't care; it only made the entire thing so much more fun. 

by the end of the night, it was time to sleep, so you and hayun took your rightful sides of the bed. it isn't the best sleeping situation, but you’d much rather sleep beside her than have to experience mark’s sweaty feet ever again. (that experience was not one that you want to remember.)

before you can switch the light off, though, you hear hayun sit up. 

“wait, yn, before we sleep…” she says, and you look at her expectantly, “can i ask you something?”

“sure.” you reply. 

she looks down, fiddling with her fingers. “Its jaemin. is he.. single?”

as if you hadn't heard her, you take a pause, processing her question. 

“yeah.” you let a laugh slip, “why? you like him?”

at your question, she giggles and her voice makes you cringe a little. 

“yes. a lot actually, it's sort of the reason why im here..”

you furrow your brow. “what do you mean?”

she takes a deep breath. “my friends never kicked me out.. i just saw that you guys were also here and, well, i thought it'd be a chance for me to get to know him.”

it's as if your ears are deceiving you, the late night tiredness of the conversation urging you to hallucinate. but it's all real, every last word of it. 

“wait, so, you lied?.. to get us to let you stay?”

she nods, and you don't know if you should pity her or hate her guts. 

because you know what it's like to be in love; you know what it's like to like someone so much to the point where you allow yourself to do stupid things. you understand. 

but that doesnt mean that you like her for it. 

“i know you probably think i'm a horrible person.” she says.

“no.. no, not at all.” you reply, and she smiles at your words. 

“thanks yn.”

you laugh back, “so, jaemin huh?”

she looks back down at her fingers, “yeah.. embarrassing right?”

you smile, not just to her, but to yourself. 

“totally.”

❆ ❆ ❆

all night, you debate with yourself over what hayun had told you. on one hand, you can't agree with what she did: lying like that. but her crush on him means that jaemin would be happy, and as his best friend, you can't take that away from him. therefore, amongst your deep pool of thought, her confession swimming in the depths of your mind, you decide that the best thing for you to do, is to hold off telling him that she lied; not only would it ruin their chances of getting together, but therefore, jaemin would only be upset that he never got the chance.

but just because you can't tell jaemin, doesn't mean you can't tell mark. 

“i really don't know what to think about her.” you say, standing in the kitchen over three pans of eggs. mark had asked you to have the task of cooking them, resorting to focus on the rest of the group's breakfast. you know it's because he can't cook eggs to save his life, but he'll never admit that.

“honestly,” he replies, “who cares if she likes jaemin? she’s a sneaky little liar.” 

you laugh, “i don't know, mark. maybe she's just really in love with him.”

“i’m not so sure about that. how could anyone ever be in love with someone who wears a hoodie saying ‘orgasm donor’ in public.”

you roll your eyes and mark continues, “well, i guess we all know who he's donating to now..”

you slap him around the arm, causing him to cackle at your rash response. 

“anyways,’ he continues, “i wont tell jaemin about it if you don't want me to.” 

you nod, “thanks, mark. oh, and you're burning the bacon by the way.”

“oh shit.”

❆ ❆ ❆

deciding that the weather still wasnt good enough to attempt to make the journey home, you all decided to stay another day. although the day was full of indiscriminate party games and full fledged boredom, you somehow managed to make it through to nightfall. 

you’re nearly drifting off to sleep when you hear a tap at the door of your’s and hayun’s room. turning over to see hayun fast asleep, you get up to see who’s there, wondering what idiot buffoon decided to wake you up at 4 o’clock in the morning. 

by means of absolutely no surprise, it’s a disheveled jaemin, hair sticking up in about seven different directions and a crumpled tshirt that rises ever so slightly above his pyjama pants waistline, exposing skin that you do not have the energy to be fawning over. although, that’s exactly what you’re doing.

assuming that he’s here to finally break the news to hayun in some twisted, sensual late night confession, you turn your back to jaemin to call her name. in noticing what you’re about to do, jaemin reaches an arm around your waist, pulling you close enough to him that the palm of his other hand can cover your mouth. 

“will you shut up?” you don't need to see his face to know he's rolling his eyes, “this isn't exactly something i want her to see.”

oh.

he lets go of you, spinning you round to face him by your shoulders. he’s done this before: knocking on your door in the dead of night when he needs you. but you never expected him to do it here. not after your conversation with mark a few days ago, and certainly not whilst his crush was staying in your room. it all seems so bizarre. 

but you weren't going to say no. 

❆ ❆ ❆

the next morning, you realise that you had completely and utterly fucked up. 

the warmth of jaemin next to you remains, his arm slung lazily over the front of your stomach. you expect to open your eyes to jaemins ceiling back at home, but to much avail, you are very much still on vacation.

and you had four pairs of eyes staring down on you both to prove that. 

you jump out of jaemin’s hold immediately, causing him to slowly stir before mumbling something incoherent into the sheets. when he finally realises the situation you’re in, he takes the pillow beside his head, pushing it into his face. 

“you promised you wouldn't do it here, man.” mark starts. but your focus isn't on him, it's on hayun. 

and she's livid.

you turn the attention of your words to her. “im sorry. i should have told you.”

jaemin finally gets up, picking up his discarded shirt off the ground and pulling it over his head before sitting back on the end of the bed. 

hayun eyes him for any form of an apologetic sense, but he gives off nothing, and you fear this only makes her angrier.

your fear is proven correct when she suddenly snaps at you, “you knew i liked him and you still went and did this behind my back?”

at her words, the mood in the room suddenly shifts. what was an atmosphere of laughter and mischief at them catching you and jaemin together, is now suddenly a room of tension, a room that you no longer want to be in. 

but it's jaemins reaction that formulates the world's most unfortunate predicament. 

his head turns to you, a look of disappointment and what seems to be hurt, plastered on his face. “she likes me? and you hid it from me?”

you don't know what else to say, so you just tell him the truth. “yes, but it's not that simpl-”

“i don't care, yn.” he gets up, pushing past chenle to the bathroom before shutting the door behind him. 

fuck. you’ve messed up.

but one thing is nagging at you: jaemin seems to care far more about the fact that you hid the truth from him than what the truth actually entailed. you tell yourself he’s probably just embarrassed. either that or just completely and utterly in denial about it. either way, he’s acting strange; he should be happy, not angry. 

the entire day, jaemin didn’t utter a single word to you. as for hayun, she had been hidden away in your room, not speaking to a single person and avoiding any opportunity to accidentally bump into you. you did feel bad, you should have told her about it the second that she confessed her feelings for jaemin to you. but you had assumed from jaemin’s previous conversation with you, that you were calling it off, jaemin seeming pretty aware about the fact that she was now here. how were you supposed to predict him rocking up to your room at 4am?

anyhow, you spent the day with mark, discussing the ending of titanic and eating way too much chocolate to be healthy. when night came once more, you decided that it probably wasn't the best idea to go back to your room, scared about facing the wrath of the girl who resided in it. instead, after washing up in the bathroom, you make your way to the sofa in the front room. 

your actions are halted when you hear voices coming from the other side of jaemin’s door. you know you shouldn't eavesdrop on a private conversation, but you can’t help yourself. 

you register the second voice as mark as you get close enough to hear them clearer, just enough until you can hear what they're saying.

your heart hurts in your chest when you do. 

“i'm still going to ask her out, even with things the way they are.” you hear jaemin whisper. 

it's like a sudden shot to the chest. this is exactly what you feared from the very beginning, this is exactly what you trusted jaemin enough not to do. 

he’s choosing her over his best friend; he’s choosing her over you. 

trying to remain as quiet as possible, you continue your journey to the sofa, pain causing you to wince with every footstep – he's leaving you behind.

as you lie on the sofa, the chill air of the cabin surrounding you despite the presence of the fireplace, forcing you to wrap the blanket around you tighter, you struggle to bring yourself to sleep. but when you hear footsteps from the kitchen, you peek your head over the back of the sofa to see who’s there. 

at your movement, the culprit looks up from their snack-making and their eyes meet yours.

“jaemin?” you whisper, “why are you awake?”

“hungry.” he turns back, working on spreading the peanut butter onto his bagel. “what are you doing sleeping out here? it's way too cold.”

you stand up, making your way to the kitchen to stand behind him, blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you shiver from the frost. “i don’t think hayun likes me right now.” you say.

jaemin turns to face you, biting into his bagel. “i wonder why.” he says sarcastically, mouth half-full. you hate to admit it, but he looks incredibly alluring, he always does in the middle of the night. 

you hate the fact that he’s acting this way with you, dismissive and persistent, but he has every right, you hid so much from him, and you hurt him in the process. 

you’re at war with yourself, but in all honesty you know that you were in the wrong; for your friendship to work, you need to tell him everything. everything.

“actually,” you start, taking a deep breath, “there’s something you don't know.”

jaemin’s interest in the conversation suddenly spikes, looking for you to continue. 

“hayun… she.. wasn’t actually abandoned by her friends.”

“what?”

“the night she told me she liked you, she also told me that she ditched her friends because she saw that we were here. she lied about them kicking her out so that we would feel bad and let her stay, so that then she could finally get her chance to talk to you.” you pause, attempting to read jaemin’s face but failing, getting nothing from his expression. “i should have told you, but i didn't want you to get hurt. instead… i did exactly that. i'm sorry, jaemin, really.”

when you finish speaking, you notice as jaemin’s lips slightly curl into a smile before dropping back to his cold demeanor, and it makes you question whether you really saw it or if it was just your mind playing tricks on you. 

“yn..” he trails off, whatever he wants to say interrupted by your sudden panic in not wanting to embarrassing yourself.

you ramble, scared that he won't accept your apology. “but like you said to mark earlier, if you still want to ask her out, that's fin-”

“wait, what?” jaemin says, moving from his position leaning against the counter to stand upright. 

“i, um, heard you and mark talking earlier about how you were still going to ask her out despite everything..” you say. 

jaemin laughs to himself and you grow confused. “oh, yn.” he says. 

“what? what’s so funny?”

“you never did get my hints, did you.”

your heart freezes in your throat, the cold weather no longer chilling you but instead the bitter taste of jaemin’s words as they formulate in your brain. 

he continues, noticing your confusion. “it was never her that i had a crush on. it was never her that i was planning to ask out.”

you’re struggling to breath, each intake of oxygen getting caught in your chest. 

“yeah, i thought she was kinda pretty when i first saw her across my lecture a few months ago, but that was long before i fell for who i really wanted.” he smiles, inching closer to you. “and after everyone found out that i was sleeping with you, i decided that there was no longer an excuse for me to hide my feelings.” he takes a hold of your hand, looking down at it as he plays with your fingers. “i was starting to get pretty pissed that you wouldn’t pick up any of my hints, you know? you can’t even imagined how embarrassed i was to find out that it was because you were trying to play cupid for me and someone else.”

your mind is vacant, filled with the epiphany of his words as they resonate in your head, playing a tune of melancholic rhythm as it twists into an allegro.

“but… the rule.” you say. 

jaemin chuckles, “i think we stopped caring about those rules a while ago, yn. i know i did. ”

you’re no longer cold, jaemins warmth radiating against you like the blissful aura of a flame, attracting you and drawing you closer. 

it was then that you realised that you haven't said anything to equate his long speech, but words can do nothing to describe the way that you’re feeling. its as if someone had approached you with a mirror, brutally displaying each of your own hidden thoughts and projecting them back at you. because every single word that jaemin muttered, you found deep within yourself. it all clicks, perfectly and irrevocably, into place. your jealousy, your embarrassment, your stupidity. 

your love. 

instead of attempting to sum up all of your feelings into words, you do the one thing that will live up to the emotions that reside within you. taking not a single moment to prepare yourself, you lean closer to him, his eyes finding your lips. you nod, its small but the gesture means so much. it's an agreement, a sealing of mutual understanding. it's slow and it's incredibly gentle as his lips greet yours, soft in a way unlike ever before. kisses between you and jaemin were always the result of lust, of stupidity. but now, it's the result of something far greater. 

it’s love. 

❆ ❆ ❆

when the sun rises above the horizon, you leap from jaemin’s bed, him giggling at your eagerness. 

“oh my god, it's finally clear!!” you yell, waking up each of the boys with your burst of excitement. you could finally go home. 

the morning consisted of three major revelations. one: you all contacting hayun’s friends, watching as they dragged her into their car to drive her home. two: discovering that chenle had only showered once throughout the entire holiday (you all started placing bids as to who gets to not sit next to him on the journey back.) and three: witnessing the boys’ reactions to your’s and jaemins new secret. 

“i knew you’d do it, dude.” mark said, attempting to fist bump jaemin in the most cringe-worthy interaction you’ve ever seen in your life. jisung and chenle however, were completely baffled, and it took about thirty minutes of explaining for them to understand that it was you that jaemin had a crush on, and not hayun. you’re still convinced that jisung doesn't understand.

once you had all packed your things, you grabbed your suitcases, standing in the porch as chenle locked the front door for the final time. 

“im going to miss this place.” mark says, exaggerating an act of sadness as he clutches his chest. 

“im not,” chenle replies, “i’ve never been so bored in my entire fucking life.”

“it’s been fun.” you say, smiling.

jaemin’s voice comes from next to you. “eh, could have been better.” 

you turn to him in offence. 

he continues, “i'm just saying, i never got to actually snowboard.”

“are you suggesting what i think you’re suggesting…?” mark replies, looking around the group and meeting similar grins and looks of hopefulness. 

jaemin shrugs, “i dont know, am i?”

as if on cue, you all drop your suitcases in the snow, laughter and coils of happiness springing between you as you run to the shed behind the cabin for one last time. 

no other winter ski trip ever got near to living up to that one. 

not even close. 

[your-unfriendlyghost]

Short fic about steviepop, Soda’s various inner turmoils, and Dallas Winston fucking with things. I’ll probably cross-post this to Ao3 but idk- it’s shorter than most of the fics I have up on there, only a bit over 1k words. So we’ll see.

This is a direct follow up to the fic abt the gang on a roadtrip I wrote last month, but you don’t r e a l l y need to have read that first- the point is they’re at a motel and Soda and Dally are awake while everyone else is asleep. Tw for period typical attitudes

-

Steve wasn’t supposed to leave Tulsa. That wasn’t the plan.

  Soda takes a swig of pop. It tastes funny, ‘cos it’s all mixed up with the smell of ol’ Dally’s cig and pool chlorine. 

  Dally hops the fence into the pool area, ignoring the Do Not Enter sign. Soda trails after him, wondering faintly why he is- but eh, he doesn't really care all that much. He’s nearly eighteen now, anyhow, so he can’t get Darry in trouble or threaten his guardianship or nothing. Ha, he’s kinda missed this. 

  He chances a glance upstairs at his and Steve’s room. Steve can’t be getting into trouble now though. Not if he wants to go to college with Evie…

  “D’ya think I shoulda stayed in school?” Soda asks, following Dally down the walkway around the pool. 

  Dally gives him a dull look, like seriously? You’re still talking to me?

  “I just mean, ‘cos, like, Steve and Evie did,” Soda presses on. “And now, y’know, they’re…leavin’.”

  Dally raises his eyebrows, amused. “You realize it don’t take a high school diploma to move, right?”

  “Huh?”

  “I mean, you can just…go with them- you know that, yeah?” Dally snorts.

  Soda frowns, a weird sick feeling bubbling up in his gut. “Yeah…I guess,” he says noncommittally. 

  The thing is, he can’t go with them.

  He’s gotta keep his job, and he’s gotta be there for Ponyboy and Darry. That’s what he does. Where will they be without him?! They’ll just fight, won’t they?

  He swishes the cola in his mouth, thinking about it. Just before he left on this trip they fought. Not badly, but Ponyboy was behind on a few assignments, wound up with a D in his algebra class on his report card. 

  Soda had walked out into the hall, duffle bag in hand, ready to meet Steve at the door, when he saw Darry sitting at the table and Ponyboy crossing his arms at the counter.

  Soda’s heart sank. Report cards were in, huh. 

  Darry hadn’t said anything, but you could see in his eyes that he wasn’t real thrilled.

  Defensively, Ponyboy had said “Well it ain’t like I’m failin’, okay?”

  Darry nodded, glancing at Soda. “Yeah…I s’ppose.”

  “I’m passing still,” Ponyboy had muttered.

  “Yeah. I know. Colleges…they just don’t much like Ds, that’s all,” Darry said, attempting to be delicate. 

  “Well you try bein’ a year ahead in school!” Ponyboy said then. “Ain’t any other high school sophomore who’s fourteen!” 

  Gently, Darry said “Do you think you oughta maybe…re-do the grade, then?”

  Soda cringed, hard. 

  Ponyboy’s face got real red. “Re-do the grade?!” he’d snapped, voice going high and squeaky. “For one D?! That’s ridiculous!”

  Darry scowled. “It’s your future! I ain’t sayin’ you gotta, just that maybe you could consider it!”

  “Oh you’re one to talk ‘bout the future, roofer-man,” Ponyboy muttered under his breath. Soda thanked the lord that Darry hadn’t caught it, and threw himself between the two.

  He’d calmed them down decent enough, but it was just a bandage on a bullet wound. As he drove away with Steve, he swore he could hear them starting to row again.

  Soda sighs and swallows his drink.

  “I’m serious, man,” Dally says, glancing at him out of the corner of his ice-blue eye. “Ain’t nothin’ stoppin’ ya from followin’ your uh…” Dally smirks, pursing his lips. “...your buddy and his girl to Arizona.” He says buddy all funny-like, and Soda frowns.

  “Maybe there ain’t,” Soda concedes, just to end the conversation. “Maybe there ain’t.”

  “Hey, Curtis,” Dally says, an unreadable look coming onto his face. He tosses his empty soda bottle into the pool with a splash, and Soda would scold him for that, but he finds he’s frozen. He usually likes when Dally gets that hoodish look in his eyes, because it means things happen- but when they’re pointed at him they’re like spotlights. “I know what y’all do, you know,” Dally continues, corners of his lips tilting up.

  For a second, Soda almost thinks he heard him wrong. “Huh?” he breathes.

  “What, Evie don’t share her makeup-concealer how she shares her boy?” Dally says, voice too calm. Soda’s stomach twists violently, and he shoves his hands into his pockets to keep them from flying to his neck- if he fixes his collar, it’ll be a dead giveaway. 

  “What’re you on about?” Soda says, forcing his voice to stay even.

  Dally snorts, looking at Soda head-on. “Jesus, man, and here I thought yous was just playin’ dumb.”

  “Shut up, Dally,” Soda says, smiling a bit like it doesn’t matter. “You ain’t got any clue what you’re sayin’.”

  “Don’t I?” Dally says, leaning forward boldly.

  Soda resists the urge to lean away, and stands his ground. “You’re nuts, buddy,” he says, patting Dally’s shoulder. 

  Microscopically, Dally flinches away, and Soda’s heart drops into his shoes.

  “I ain’t…I ain’t queer, Dally,” Soda says softly, hand hovering away from Dally. 

  “Like hell you ain’t,” Dally scoffs, lunging forward. For a second Soda tenses, thinking Dally’s gonna punch him. But instead Dally seizes Soda’s collar, and peels it back. 

  He points at the little red marks Evie and Steve left on his neck and shoulders, and Soda feels his whole face go red.

  “See?” Dally says, grinning.

  “What are you saying?” Soda growls.

  “Whaddaya think I’m sayin’, Curtis? You think you and Steve are subtle?” Dally laughs. “You think it’s normal, sleepin’ on his shoulder, on his lap, in his bed?”

  Soda opens his mouth and closes it. No no no no-

  “You’re crazy, Winston,” Soda manages, backing away. “I got these back in Texas.”

  “Yeah, I know. Got ‘em from Randle.”

  “Got ‘em from some girl! You think you’re the only one who goes to clubs?” Soda demands.

  “Oh yeah, Johnny and I do, and so does Two-Bit, but you? If you ain’t Randle’s side piece then you’re still his dog, wantin’ to follow him to Arizona!”

  “As if you wouldn’t do the same for Johnny!”

  Dally falters then. “That’s- that’s different.”

  “Like hell it is,” Soda says, digging his heels in. “You and Johnny share a room, in all the motels, and back in Tulsa, too. Steve and I ain’t messin’ ‘round, and that’s real obvious ‘cos Two-Bit is always there and he’d tell ya if we were. But you and Johnny…”

  “Don’t you go talkin’ like that about me and Johnny, we ain’t like you, Curtis. I don’t give a damn what you and Randle do, but don’t you go implyin’ things about Johnny, man,” Dally hisses, lips curling back over his pointy animal-teeth.

  “Then don’t go sharin’ your freak daydreams about me and my best buddy,” Soda snaps back, and he tries to ignore the sickening churning in his guts. “About my best buddy and-” he tries not to wince- “-his girl.” 

  Because Soda doesn’t have a girl. Not when they’re not behind closed doors. Steve’s only Evie’s boy, and she’s only Steve’s girl, he reminds himself, hoping the conviction keeps Dally at bay. Maybe if he thinks it hard enough it’ll be true, just for right now. 

  Dally only glares at him, icy eyes hard. And Soda glares back.

  Unsurprisingly, Soda breaks the wordless stare-off first, and hops the pool fence to head back up to his room.

  “Hey Curtis,” Dally says to the back of his head, and Soda bites down the urge to spin around and sock him. “I really mean it- I don’t care what you and Randle do. I really don’t. Alls I’m sayin’ is to be careful, man. ‘Cos you know well as I do that some folks care. Folks a whole helluva lot more uh…keen-eyed than me.”

  Soda swallows, glancing back at Dally. His eyes have sorta softened, at least to the coolness of a rainstorm instead of ice chips.

  And, voice shaking more than he’d ever admit to, Soda says “I can’t use Evie’s cover-up stuff. She’s a whole lot darker than me.”

  Dally smiles, or smirks, or something, and Soda turns away, still dizzy with the weight of the secret. 

  He doesn’t have to ask to know Dally won’t tell anyone. He’s a real ass, but he’s always got his back where it counts. Soda almost feels bad for ever having doubted him.

[wholemeallbread]

... TOXIC BOYFRIENDS AND EXES / ꩜

with ... reo mikage, itoshi sae, oliver aiku x gn!reader

warnings ... cheating (oliver), gaslighting/manipulation (reo, oliver), guilt tripping (reo), stalking (reo, sort of sae), mentions of makeup and heels (oliver), slightly suggestive (oliver), alcohol/being drunk mention (oliver)

DANGEROUSLY DESPERATE ꩜ REO MIKAGE

it's clear throughout the entire relationship that reo was head over heels for you. he would take you anywhere and everywhere, shower you with gifts and treat you like royalty. at first, it was cute. but things soon became unbearable when he started cancelling your plans himself under the thesis of "you never spend time with me" or "am i not important to you anymore?" or even "do you even love me?"

on your third attempt on breaking up with him, reo finally seemed to get the hint. right after the break up, you seemed to have more freedom than ever, making quick work of hanging out with your friends again and getting to enjoy your hobbies once more.

he did not like that. he started blowing up your phone, spamming you with photos of him crying, cutting up and destroying your stuff and other things that you'd not like to name. some worry you, some have you close to taking him back, but either way it's having an extreme toll on your mental health. he'll even show up to wherever you work or study, causing a scene and threatening to sue every single person in the building until you're stood right in front of him. somehow, you end up being more miserable compared to when you were formerly in a relationship with him.

one day you just decide to yourself: "why do i even bother anymore?" and block him on everything, including every single one of his spare phones and changing your number. you make it extremely obvious that you're dating someone else in case he has other ways of accessing you, a clear sign that you're no longer falling for his manipulation, no matter how shattered he may seem to be. that really could've been the small change you made that saved your life.

CENTRE OF THE UNIVERSE ꩜ ITOSHI SAE

you're well aware that sae is a man of few words when it comes to romance. sure, that's fine, because it always shows through other ways. maybe he finds it difficult to express it in words? or he's just waiting for the right time? not at all. it's a subtle reminder that he has options. he could have any other girl or guy or anyone out there in the world, and you're nothing special to him. you could easily get replaced whenever he'd like, and you shouldn't get so attached or needy.

that's when he starts ignoring your messages and calls. that's when he mocks your attempts at going on a date with him. and that's when he finally snaps at you, making the exact same mistake that he did with his younger brother; pushing you out of his one and only safe space and shutting you out. you're obviously heartbroken, opting to never fall in love with a "nonchalant" guy ever again, while he's living his best life, getting rich and getting smothered in love by that one teammate who seemed more like a boyfriend than anything.

sae knows that he has only himself to care about, but for some reason, he finds himself itching to figure out whatever's happening in your life. surely you're not happy. surely it's not going to be as good as it was before. nowadays when you post, he only ever sees you smile; it's brighter than ever before, and they'll never be directed towards him. you're focused on your own little circle of friends, your own little bubble – you're the centre of your own little world and he's not in it.

it's too late for him to fix his mistake once he realises that you loved him for him, not who he was or how much he had. is there really another person out there that could love him the way that you did?

BLATANT CHEATING ꩜ OLIVER AIKU

oliver is a shameless, shameless man. you're aware of his horrendous dating history, but he convinced you that you were "the one". all of his female friends were apparently wiped from his phone, and he'll give you all of the attention that you need. it starts off with alleged double dates – they were fun, and the other couple was usually nice. after a while, you start becoming the first person that he drops off back home. what's worse is that the other girl is in the front seat, not you.

things start to escalate once you start seeing makeup or shoes occupying your space in the passenger seat of his car. it's not like they've been forgotten, because somebody's clearly using them; the makeup gets replaced when it runs out, and the heels change every other week or so; and one thing that you do know is that they're not yours.

"didn't you say you were thinking about an open relationship?" he claims to defend himself. actually, you weren't. it was him who came up with the idea, and you said no since you never really considered such a thing, but you'd let him know if you changed your mind. keywords: no and changed your mind. not only did he not listen to you at all, but he went out of his way to go on multiple dates without even telling you.

soon, you notice that he's switching off his phone at night, coming back home absolutely hammered, or not even returning until monday when it's the weekend. lipstick stains on his cheek? they're his mom's. scratch marks on his back? uh... he got attacked by a cat- no. a tiger. text messages from someone called "bae ❤️". that's... that's his sister, obviously. and the other identical one with the pink heart is his other sister too.

after you break up, there's already parties filling up his instagram stories. nine times out of ten, he's got a different girl right by his side, kissing his cheek or touching him all over. it's gross. you can't even bring yourself to look at them anymore, not because you're jealous, but it pisses you off seeing such disgusting public acts of "affection" in your face.

a month later, you get a few missed calls and a text asking you to "come over". obviously, you decline.

[xxelliewxx]

Fire and Frost {Ellie x Reader} Ch. 1

Pairings: loser!(AFAB)Reader x hockey player!Ellie

Synopsis: When y/n is requested to tutor Ellie Williams in organic chemistry, she expects arrogance and attitude from the hockey player. However, she discovers a different aspect of Ellie’s tough exterior, revealed through humor and fleeting glances. This raises the question: why does Ellie go to great lengths to embarrass and harass y/n whenever they are in the presence of others?

Warnings: Mentions of depression, anxiety, sexual/physical assault, alcohol, violence, trauma (if I miss any let me know!)

w/c: 2.2k

an: this is my first time ever posting fanfic on Tumblr, so feedback is completely welcome! this is not proofread and is a work in progress.

Iron Bonds

You adjusted the strap of your backpack as you settled into your favorite class of the semester, CHEM 2301: Organic Chemistry. Part of your fondness for the course stemmed from Dr. Miller, whose charismatic personality made her a standout professor. Her encouraging feedback only deepened your enthusiasm for the subject. Beyond teaching, Dr. Miller also led the campus chemistry club, where you served as president. Meeting biweekly, the club offered a welcome escape—a place to bond with fellow "outcasts" at Jackson University.

Dr. Miller's warm smile greeted you as she glanced up from her laptop, busy preparing for the day's lesson. Returning her smile with a small wave, you reached into your backpack and retrieved your iPad. Flipping open the protective cover, you launched your note-taking app. With your Apple Pencil poised, you idly nibbled its end while surveying the room. Students trickled in, filling the space with lively chatter, some more boisterous than others. Your attention drifted to the women's hockey team animatedly discussing an upcoming frat party. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at what you deemed an immature occasion. 

"Ellie, I swear to God if you clit block me tonight, I'll smear stick wax all over your visor". 

The team captain, Ellie Williams, was lounging lazily in her chair, hat backwards, manspreading as she crossed her arms over her chest, smirking at her teammate. "Relax, Abby. Your conquests are safe from me. Besides, I've got my own plans tonight," she remarked, sending a wink in Cat's direction. Without hesitation, Cat leaned in and kissed her aggressively, igniting a ripple of surprised reactions from her teammates, hooting and hollering.

"Alright, Ellie, Cat, keep the PDA out of my classroom. You know the rules, Williams," Dr. Miller said firmly, fixing a sharp look on the captain. Ellie responded with a smirk before shoving Cat away from her and grabbing her notebook and mechanical pencil. You couldn't help but notice the notebook's cover, adorned with intricate doodles—surprisingly impressive artwork you never would have expected from her. 

Your attraction to Ellie was not something you hid from yourself nor your friends, there was something so fucking hot about her cocky attitude and the self-confidence with which she presented herself. The flush of embarrassment that spread across your cheeks when you recalled entering the organic chemistry class for the first time on that brisk September morning when you came crashing into a strong chest. The well-defined muscles belonged to Ellie.

Her strong, calloused hands had gripped your shoulders, preventing you from falling backwards after you profusely apologized, cheeks aflame. There was a flash of something in her eyes that you barely had time to acknowledge before she was knocking your coffee out of your hands and onto your new cashmere sweater. 

Your jaw dropped in disbelief as you looked up at the brunette standing before you, utterly stunned by the unexpected twist of fate, the creamy liquid trickling down your front.

"Oops" the girl shrugged, displaying no remorse in her demeanor. 

In fact, she looked hostile towards you as if you were the one who drenched her new sweater with the iced latte. Tears pricked your eyes as students who witnessed the scene giggled, only worsening your mood. It took everything in you to not skip your first day, but Dr. Miller's compassionate response kept you from calling it quits as she helped clean up the sticky mess. 

A scowl crossed your face as you thought back to that incident and the many others that came after. It felt like every opportunity she had, she would push you to the edge, making you feel completely drained and helpless. In just a month, Ellie Williams had brought you to tears sixteen times, as you had been keeping count in your journal, with furious tick marks etched into the pages soaked with your tears.

Journaling became a refuge for you after your Freshman year at Jackson University, a time that feels like a shadow you can't escape. Though that year has slipped into the past, its memories linger, preventing you from living a normal, college life. Deep down, you struggle to confront the truth: you endured both sexual and physical assault, and the echoes of that trauma still resonate within you.

Flashbacks to your first frat party surged through your thoughts, bringing a wave of nausea that threatened to choke you. Your fingers clenched the edges of the desk so tightly that they turned white, while your leg bounced restlessly beneath you. Dr. Miller's voice started to fade in and out as you sprang up, feeling a panic attack coming on. She had an understanding with you so when you rushed out of the classroom, she noted your departure before continuing on with her lecture. 

You flung open the door to the women's restroom, racing inside as panic surged through you. The wave of nausea crashed over you once more, and your retching reverberated off the vacant stalls, bile clawing it's way up your throat. Tears welled in your eyes as you leaned over the sink, your stomach protesting in its emptiness from skipping breakfast. 

Your breath began to steady as your heart rate gradually descended from its frantic pace, beads of sticky sweat clinging to your forehead after the dry heaving subsided. These attacks were not new, they have been a common occurrence ever since...you shook your head, dispelling any thoughts trying to reach the surface. 

You gathered your hands to form a cup, splashing refreshing cold water onto your face. As you gazed into the mirror, droplets cascaded down your chin, pooling back into the sink below. Taking a moment to steady your thoughts, the bathroom door swung open, and there stood the brunette who had occupied your mind so frequently as of late. You paled at the sight of her, heart rate accelerating once more.

"Shit" was all she said, her gaze sweeping over your face as if trying to decipher your condition. Stepping closer, she breached your personal space, peering down at you with a look of genuine worry etched on her features.

"I was just leaving" you murmur out, trying to slink passed her strong presence. But before you can make your escape, her gentle hands catch hold of you, and her warm, earthy gaze locks onto yours, holding you captive for a moment before she releases you. A rush of warmth floods your cheeks as you observe her rummaging through her pockets, finally producing a tiny vial filled with shimmering purple liquid.

Lifting the vial, she removed the cap, and an intense aroma of lavender filled the air, enveloping you in its calming embrace. "I apply this before games that make me anxious." 

You gazed at her in astonishment, completely caught off guard by her thoughtful actions, which felt almost surreal and too perfect to believe. Ellie appeared to pick up on your skepticism as she cautiously extended her hand toward yours, grabbing your arm and letting a few drops of the liquid spill onto your wrist. With a soft smile, she observed as it absorbed into your skin. "That should do the trick." You gave a warm smile in return, enjoying the scent drifting from off your wrist. 

Ellie's demeanor shifted in an instant, dropping your hand abruptly as if she had touched a scorching skillet. The captain quickly masked her emotions, a frown taking the place of her warm smile. Without uttering a single word, Ellie spun on her heel and forcefully flung the bathroom door open, leaving you bewildered and enveloped in the lingering scent of lavender.

☾⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽☾⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

The lecture hall buzzed with lively conversations as you mustered the bravery to step back into class, your heart still racing from the earlier encounter. What just happened? And why did the thought of it happening again send a thrill through you? Lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, you made your way to your seat, your hand searching for your backpack and your iPad you had carelessly tossed aside, observing it for cracks. From her desk, Dr. Miller's voice cut through the noise, calling your name, her gaze fixed intently on you.

Her worry was palpable, unmistakable in her expression. It was a look you had grown all too familiar with—pity. You despised that feeling, loathed it nearly as much as the man who had thrust you into this predicament. What stung the most was the absence of pity from those who truly mattered, your so-called friends who stood by as everything crumbled, betraying every shred of trust you had once placed in them.

As you approached her desk, an unmistakable sensation of being watched enveloped you, and you had a strong hunch about the source of those curious gazes. "Is everything alright with you?"

The question nearly brought a chuckle to your lips; naturally, you weren't really okay—not ever, in truth. Yet, that wasn't the point she was getting at, so you gave a slight nod, your gaze dropping to your boots, tracing the intricate zigzag pattern of the laces. "I'm fine, Dr. Miller, just the usual stuff."

As you glanced back at her, you noticed the worry etched in her eyes. You offered her a reassuring smile, brushing aside her fears. "Honestly, Dr. M, I'm fine." She appeared to take your words to heart, diving into the pile of papers cluttering her desk until she found what she needed. However, the concern in her gaze was quickly replaced by a flicker of unease.

"Y/N, I want to give you a heads-up before I drop this on you in front of others. The Academic Support Center is looking for help in tutoring one of your classmates. I understand you prefer to stay in your comfort zone, but I suggested you to the academic advisor, and they wholeheartedly supported my recommendation."

With a casual flick of your shoulders, you glanced at the paper she held. "Of course, Dr. M, I'm all in. I heard that tutoring could really enhance my resume for another scholarship, and honestly, I can't cover next year's classes without it."

Dr. Miller's expression remained tense, sending a wave of anxiety coursing through your chest. Just as you were about to inquire about the identity of the person, she addressed the class, "Ellie, would you mind coming up here?"

The sensation in your chest swelled, threatening to burst as your heart plummeted at the mention of the name. You shot a glare at Dr. Miller, your anxiety etched across your face. "What's going on?" Ellie stood nearby, her arms crossed, the muscles in her forearms flexing prominently. You struggled to divert your gaze from the elaborate tattoos that twisted and turned along her exposed arms.

"I am recommending a tutor to help improve your grades. Those last two tests have really taken a toll on your GPA. Right now, you're at a D+, which puts you at risk of academic probation. After discussing this with your coach, we both agree that having a classmate tutor you could be a great alternative to facing probation."

Ellie unfolded her arms defiantly, her head shaking vigorously. "Absolutely not, I don't need a tutor, Dr. M. Hockey has simply taken precedence for me recently. I swear I'll give a shit on the next test."

Dr. Miller sighed and replied, "I wish I could help, Ellie, but this decision is beyond my control. You have two options: either Y/N can guide you, or you risk facing consequences like being benched or losing the C on your jersey."

Ellie's eyes burned with pure hatred as she shot you a fierce glare, making you instinctively take a step back from her intense animosity. Throwing your hands up in defense you glared back, "Hey, it's not my fault you don't have your priorities straight."

Her hands balled into tight fists at her sides as she advanced toward you, her finger stabbing into your chest with each word. "You don't know the first fucking thing about me." 

Gripping her wrist, you threw her arm away from you. "Just don't fuck this up, Ellie."

Dr. Miller shook her head at the exchange between you both, her disapproval evident. "Y/N, I hope you won't make me question my decision to place you in this position. Ellie, you need to focus; it would be a shame to see you jeopardize your scholarship."

You both averted your gazes as the handouts were distributed. Ellie glanced at the notice warning her of academic probation while you sifted through the guidelines for being a peer tutor. "I truly hope you can set aside whatever tension exists and learn from one another." 

You blew hair out of your face as you folded the paper up and cramming it into your back pocket. "Sure thing, Dr. M," you replied with a hint of sarcasm.

Ellie let out a scoff, her eyes rolling dramatically. "Y/N, come on, play nice," Dr. Miller admonished, prompting a snicker from Ellie. You chose to overlook her teasing, feeling your cheeks heat up. Extending your hand, you offered Ellie a handshake, which she met with a sneer but accepted anyway.  

You hand over a scrap of paper, your number hastily jotted down, and say, "Feel free to text me whenever you find the time to actually care about your academics."

Ellie yanked it from your grasp, shot you the middle finger, and then strode out, leaving you in the silence of the empty lecture hall with Dr. Miller. Turning to leave, a hand on your shoulder stopped you. "Y/N, if you need to talk to anyone I am always here. You don't have to go through this alone."

You nodded your head, giving her a smile that you know didn't reach your eyes before leaving to go to your next class. As you were walking across the skyway to your Biotechnology course, your phone chimed indicating you received a text.

unknown: meet me tomorrow at 8 AM in the wilson library. don't be late

[theanxiousghostartist]

Don't thank Trump for TikTok!

Summary of current events: In the US, a TikTok ban was passed in the interest of "national security" and upheld by the Supreme Court (SCOTUS), set to take effect on January 19th, 2025. The app put out a message originally saying that, unfortunately, TikTok was banned in the US and thus had to cease operations there, but later changed it to saying that they were working with Trump to get it back up and running. A few hours later, TikTok started working again in the US, with a message from the app thanking Trump for getting the app running again.

Before you go thanking Trump for getting TikTok back, there are a few things you need to know:

1). Trump was the one to originally pursue a TikTok ban.

In 2020, Trump attempted to ban TikTok and WeChat (a messaging app) through an executive order (which basically acts as a law created by the President). SCOTUS ended up blocking the order, and thus, TikTok stayed in the US.

Source

2). TikTok may still not be available on appstores

Unless the law banning TikTok is repealed, companies like Apple and Google may not offer TikTok in their appstores. The law fines companies that make TikTok available, and thus, those companies may face large fines if they offered it. TikTok is currently not available on Google Play (see screenshot below), and it is only available for those who have downloaded it already.

Source

3). TikTok will probably not be the same

3a). TikTok and Trump

On his platform "Truth" Social, Trump announced his plans to get TikTok back up as,

I will issue an executive order on Monday to extend the period of time before the law’s prohibitions take effect, so that we can make a deal to protect our national security. The order will also confirm that there will be no liability for any company that helped keep TikTok from going dark before my order.

I want you to notice that "make a deal" part. Trump has already acknowledged that he wants to own half (50%) of TikTok. Elon Musk (who now owns Twitter and has renamed it X) has already expressed his interest in owning social media platforms, as we say with his purchase and rebranding of Twitter. Mark Zuckerberg (owner of Meta) has been increasingly competitive with TikTok, which has caused him to launch reels on Facebook and Instagram as direct competition with TikTok. The most likely scenario to reenstates TikTok in the US is the purchase of TikTok by someone in the US. No matter who purchases the platform (these being some of the richest men in the world), the app will never be the same. It will lean to right-wing politics and push the narrative of a conservative America. Zuckerberg has already begun to tailor Meta platforms to fit the conservative narrative, allowing women to be called "household objects" and queer people to be called "mentally ill." Elon Musk funded the majority of Trump's campaign and is notably transphobic. Donald Trump is messiah for conservatives currently and is on a scarily similar path to the rise of the Nazi party in Germany. Even if TikTok stays, it most likely won't be a safe place for queer people, people of color, trans people, and women.

Source Source

3b). TikTok and Project 2025

Project 2025 is the plan for the Trump campaign, and it is scary. It plans to roll back queer/trans rights, limit abortion access, roll back voting rights, limit/roll back women's rights, significantly increase deportations, roll back the rights/protections for people of color, ban books, abuse the power of the government to spy on civilians, target journalists and protesters (violating their 1st admendment rights), censor classroom discussions of race, gender, sexuality, etc. and more. If Trump/someone close to him gets ahold of TikTok (which is looking more and more likely), TikTok will reflect that (at least, in the US). This means that LGBTQ+ people, people of color, and women will be censored and silenced on the platform in favor of Nazis. Furthermore, the government could use TikTok to see who is in favor of LGBTQIA+/POC/women's/disabled rights and place them on watchlists. Hypothetically, let's say your queer and vocally support queer rights on TikTok (posting TikToks about being queer, liking/watching/saving/sharing TikToks about queer rights, etc.) and you were placed on a watchlist. Let's say you go to a protest for queer rights and end up getting arrested. The police end up linking you to your TikTok profile, and suddenly, you are facing extra/harsher charges than you were already. Basically, it's possible that TikTok could become more like Orwell's 1984 (Big Brother is watching), then we realize.

Source Source

4). Donald Trump is a terrible person, and this stunt played with people's lives

Donald Trump is a bad person. He is a rapist. He is homophobic, transphobic, racist, ablelist, xenophobic, and misogynistic. Hr is a Nazi. He is also a convicted felon (which doesn't necessarily make him a bad person. However, the reasons for his conviction/charges and his clear guilt do). He has been accused of election interference on several occasions (notably in 2016 and 2020), and according to Jack Smith's final report on his investigations into Trump, if Trump had not been elected president, he would have been charged with election interference (for the election of 2020), including charges related to his stolen documents from after his first term, his obstruction of the Department of Justice's (DOJ) investigation into him/January 6th, and Trump's involvement in January 6th.

Bad people can do good things. While this is true, in this case, it doesn't fit. This stunt with TikTok not only sent millions of Americans in emotional distress but also played with the lives of content creators and small businesses that rely on TikTok for their income. Not only could these creators/small businesses in the US not get paid for the time the app was down, but they had to get their audience over to other platform so that they still had income and clear out/move products from TikTok, creating much more monetary loss than gain. Furthermore, content creators and small businesses in other countries risk losing portions of their audience from this ban, resulting in a loss of income durectly relating to the ban.

Source

TL; DR - Trump originally wanted to ban TikTok, TikTok isn't fully "saved" (not available on appstores), TikTok will most likely be censored/used to push conservative/basically Nazi propaganda, this stunt hurt a bunch of content creators/small businesses

[pilalaphillip]

First Moments... (1/2)

First moments of Jayce and Viktor with their biological kids.

Brayden (1st born):

Chloe (2nd born):

Nikolai (3rd born):

After nearly 3 years since I created them, I finally show them. At least some of them! (Yes, there's more) (I dare you to take a guess of how many kids they have in total)

This are my interpretations of the meme template of "They look like their stupid other parent!".

I'm also trying to write about this, I have a deeply thought story of how each kid entered into their lifes. I'm just not a writter so I take my sweet time and almost never finish, I'M TRYING I SWEAR!

Small fankid infodump bellow:

I'm coping so this takes in an universe where everything goes better than in the show (and my best friend forbidden me from making them suffer again). It's mostly like League's lore where the use of Hextech doesn't cause the end of the world.

Not going too deep into it because I'm planning on writting this so, here are the basics:

How are they biological? Jayce is trans and carried them.

Brayden was born in between Act 1 and Act 2 of Season 1, about 2 years after their first breakthru.

Chloe was born right around Act 2, Season 1.

With Nikolai I had to break the direction of the universe, because he is 5 years younger than Chloe (give me a break. This ages were thought before Season 2 was out lmao)

They got more kids, working on a similar post with them.

Let's see if I manage to finish them before I go to Brazil next week.

[basu-shokikita]

skwistok for 35 (to gain something 😏)

Good number for Skwistok it seems >:)

35. (Kiss) to gain something

"Yous drivingks me insane, Tokes!"

"Whys? Whys?" Toki took strides from one side of the room to the other, like an enraged bull. The rest of the band watched from the comfort of the couch, but knew better than to intervene.

This was almost like a mating ritual between the guitarists.

Almost.

"Just plays whats I wrotes!"

"Why cants Toki makes a suggestions?!" Toki countered, placing his hands on his hips petulantly.

"Because it su-" Skwisgaar cut himself just in time. He was supposed to be nicer. He was supposed to be nicer. Wearily, he pinched the bridge of his nose, "Because dis amsnt de plans, okej?"

"Yous plans ams dildos, then."

"Yous dild-" Skwisgaar cut himself off again, this time to greater effort. Why was Toki one of the most insufferable people in the entirety of the universe? "Eugh, I can't do this."

As soon as he turned his back to Toki, he heard him again.

"Whats?" The rhythm guitarist sounded confused. "Yous leavin?"

"Ja."

"Whys?"

"I don't wants to fights." Skwisgaar said between gritted teeth. This whole 'be nice to Toki' phase had been going for way too long and Toki was becoming more and more spoiled. Then again, he couldn't really bring himself to break it either.

Not after they barely survived the end of the world, anyway.

"Cowards."

There was some muffled noises coming from the direction of the couch, but Skwisgaar chose to ignore them.

Slowly, he turned around to find a smug Toki looking down at him. "What did you says?" He asked in a low voice.

Toki cracked a grin. "Whats the matters, Skwisgaar?" He stuck his thumbs in his armpit and waved his arms in the manner of wings. "Yous chickens?"

"Play nice, Toki." Pickles reminded him in a condescending tone. Skwisgaar ignored that too.

Menacingly, he gave long steps in Toki's direction, until his shadow was marginally covering the idiot's face. "Takes it back."

Far away from being intimidated, Toki seemed even more entertained than before. "Noes."

"Takes it backs."

"Or whats?" Toki lifted his chin defiantly.

"Or..." Skwisgaar tried to come up with something. Kicked from the band? Too harsh. Will never get lines again? Blatant lie. The guitar God will take away your powers? Toki was too old to believe in fables anymore.

Sensing his uncertainty, Toki drew himself closer to Skwisgaar. "You can'ts punish Toki." He whispered with a smile.

Skwisgaar raised an eyebrow. "And why ams dats?"

Hidden in a curtain of golden hair, Toki's eyes seemed to glow in the dark. He mouthed something that Skwisgaar couldn't hear.

"Whats?"

It was like a flash. Toki moved forward, stood on his tiptoes to reach Skwisgaar and gave him a peck. Before Skwisgaar could process anything, though, Toki had already pulled away.

Eyes widening, Skwisgaar covered his mouth. "T-Toki!"

"Hah! I wins!" Toki skipped in delight.

"No, you don'ts!" Skwisgaar wiped his mouth furiously. "I tolds you not to does that in publicks!"

"You blush, you lose!" Toki played dissonant notes on his guitar. "Blushins loser!"

"Ams not- I didn'ts blush!" Skwisgaar said, ignoring his heated cheeks.

"Nuh, you tahtally did, Skwisgaar." Pickles chimed in.

"Yeah, Skwisgaar, you're red." Nathan agreed.

"Like a total homo." Murderface finished.

"Everyone shuts up!" Skwisgaar glared at his bandmates. "And why ams I de homos when Toki dids it?"

There were incomprehensible murmurs in response and Skwisgaar felt his patience almost reach zero. Toki was back in his spot, playing that horrible melody Skwisgaar had been trying to shut down.

"Toki!"

"Whats?" Toki batted his eyelashes at him, his fingers still focused on the strings.

If he refused Toki again, who knows what he would do next. Skwisgaar sighed. "Fines."

"Yay!"

While his bandmates mumbled about him like he wasn't there, Skwisgaar sat on the amp and watched Toki play, eventually correcting him here or there.

He really did shoot himself in the foot by letting Toki hold some leverage over him. Toki was a dirty player and a total cheater, always had been.

Skwisgaar rubbed his nose, and suddenly understood what Toki had meant to say earlier.

Because you likes Toki.

He furrowed his brows in annoyance, arms draping over his chest, attempting to order his brain not to make his skin flush again.

Fucking idiot.

[deathbyathousandspiders]

death of a hero. ₂

mcu!peter parker x fem!stark!reader | boy in the bubble part two.

IN WHICH after getting attacked, you find out that your dad & peter have kept spider–man’s identity a secret.

author's note — highly recommend reading part one first!! this cured my writer's block !! part three coming soon!!! :)

WARNINGS (18+ MDNI) — hurt reader [physically/emotionally], swearing, mentions of blood, a flashback to homecoming, lots & lots & lots of angst.

read part one here.

gif found here.

✨masterlist.✨

3.4k.

Never in your life did you think you’d be targeted and attacked, then be smiling by the end of the night. You couldn’t fight the small grin touching your lips, couldn’t stop the butterflies that numbed each wound still scarring your body. 

Somehow, despite it all, Peter’s words gave you something to hold onto, something to keep you going—something hopeful. It gave you something to rewrite the painful narrative that your attacker had spat at you just an hour earlier. 

“What a weak, pathetic excuse for a Stark.”

“You’ve seen the unthinkable, are still going, and you think you’re weak? Impossible.”

Once you finally got to the stairs to shower, you tried to swing your leg up, immediately met with a harsh reminder of how bad your bruises would be tomorrow. 

A wince parted your lips, sparking from the ache in your right hip and the direct strike it sent to the wound on your torso. 

Perhaps you needed Peter’s help after all. 

Taking a breath, you felt less hesitant than before to ask for help. It wasn’t like you had anything else to hide—you were tattered and torn up, topless and sticky with blood. 

Besides, you were used to walking with the weight of the wounds, at this point. You cut the distance to the kitchen in a matter of slow seconds. 

“Whoever attacked her tonight planned this.” Peter’s words made you pause just outside the entryway, hidden behind the wall just beyond. You blinked a bit, immediately feeling the weight of their conversation. “It wasn’t by chance, she was targeted–” 

“You don’t know that—” Even as he cut Peter off, your dad’s response was cut short. 

“And you don’t either!” Both of the boys in the kitchen held something urgent to their words; the same sense of urgency that laced the undertones between them all evening. 

Whatever conversation you were overhearing, you knew in your bones that they didn’t want you to hear it. 

Sucks for them. 

Peter continued: “The way she’s acting.. Something’s off about what happened.” Your blood froze to ice at the sentence. “And I think she deserves to know why I wasn’t there to defend her tonight.”

Thick silence swelled in the room, and you suddenly feared that your racing heartbeat would interrupt it. You had to remind yourself to breathe, and remind yourself to be quiet. 

As tempted as you were to step in and ask questions, you knew that whatever they were keeping from you was more likely to be discovered from where you were. 

Somehow, this was something they wanted to hide from you. The secret, whatever it was, made the air around you feel slimmer and heavy all at once. It sent your thoughts into a spiral, and an urge to question the two people closest to you. 

“Look, kid. I don’t blame you for what happened tonight.” Tony took words from you that you hadn’t even known how to phrase to Peter yet. It sent a twinge to your heart, draped your panic in sympathy for him. 

“I know.” You could tell Peter needed to hear the words, even if he didn’t know how to admit it. 

“As much as I agree with your conspiracy theories on Y/N’s attacker, I don’t know if coming clean about everything will solve this.” 

Something sunk in you, deflated your spirits. It hurt that they’d hid this from you—whatever it was—and had been lying for God knows how long. 

You could hear the jab in Peter’s own optimism when he spoke up again. “Then when do you plan to tell her?” At least, he was trying to come clean. 

“I don’t know..” Your dad was honest, and sullen about it. It only added to your confusion. 

Perhaps, they weren’t going to tell you ever. Maybe if you just revealed yourself and asked your own questions, you’d actually get somewhere. 

Peeling yourself off the wall and taking a few steps into frame, both Peter and your dad were completely oblivious to you. 

Despite how you stepped into view, they remained focused on the conversation, and your dad continued. “I’ll tell you what: you tell me how you’d suggest telling Y/N you’re Spider–Man, and I’ll consider it–”

The whole world stopped moving. 

“Peter’s what?”

You could’ve thrown up at the realization, at how cold and hollow the room suddenly became. The secret was out, and the quick and wide eyes that fell to you told you just how vital this secret was. 

Peter was Spider–Man. 

Even as you stared at him, eyes as wide as his, you couldn’t shake it. Your best friend was Spider–Man, working alongside your father and found family. 

The two of you held eye contact, trying to read the other. You could read the remorse and apology and panic swelling in his wide–eyed stare, but you hoped that some of the anger building in your own was silently translated regardless. 

Your dad tried to clear his throat, tried to slice through the rousing tension between the two of you, but you didn’t break from it in the slightest. 

“Dinner’s ready.” Tony tried to make a joke. To joke at a time like this, as if he wasn’t an accomplice. As if he wasn’t keeping this from you, arguably more than Peter had been. 

It was the last straw you’d been offering, swiped from your hands and dissipating with your patience. 

You scoffed, tears finally finding your eyes. The heat of them was boiled by rage, and you didn’t have the decency to hide it. “Fuck off.” 

The room was too hard to stand in. You walked away, reminded of why you were even standing in the kitchen in the first place. 

Pain itched its way up your priority list, but you didn’t care; finding a way up the stairs was the least of your worries. You were more concerned with how quickly you could get away. 

Especially as you could hear Peter calling after you, following the path you were carving between you. 

“Y/N!” He spoke your name like a plea, like it would somehow apologize for all the dirt you’d uncovered. The sound of his voice, however, only seemed to drive you further from him. 

It split your heart into more pieces than you knew how to count. 

You already battled the insecurity of being weak. A weak, pathetic excuse for a Stark. With all the time you spent in the compound, with your friends and family, you were one of the only powerless people among them. This whole time, you thought Peter understood. 

You thought the insecurity was shared, reciprocated. 

Clearly, you were wrong and an idiot. You were the only one powerless among them. 

It made you feel so stupid; to see all the inside jokes tossed over your head, to see every stupid excuse he made thrown back in your face, and he had the audacity to be sorry?

Damn right, he should be. 

Peter’s touch felt like sandpaper to your skin as he reached for your hand. You yanked it out, not bothering to turn around. 

You tried to be strong and suck up the pain, wanted more than anything to run up the stairs and lock yourself in your room—two quick steps up the stairwell and the adrenaline wore off. You slowed your pace, fighting off the wincing, and wanting anything but to ask for help from Spider–Man. 

“Y/N, please.” His voice broke, and you felt sinister to think him deserving of it. “Please, I– I wanted to tell you, I promise–“

He must’ve been surprised when you turned around, at the speed you pivoted, at how intense your expression came across, because he startled. 

Your eyes held no response to the hot tears flooding from them, only holding space for the anger and hurt you didn’t have the energy to hide from him. 

“Promise?” The word came out whispered, threatening to break just as his words did. “You promise, just like how we promised to tell each other everything?” You saw each stab of each word and exactly where it hit on him, especially as your voice grew in volume. “Just like how you promised I wasn’t weak, when clearly, you know damn well how ironic that is!”

Twin tears slid down the length of his face, and you caught the subtle tremble in his bottom lip that he tried so hard to hide. “Please..” Now he was the one whispering, and you wish it sounded as satisfying as you wanted it to. 

“Don’t fucking sit there and act like you’re the hero here, Peter..” You couldn’t help the growl, couldn’t help the distaste inking down your body. Sure, you’d been hit with a knife just an hour prior in the evening, but you didn’t feel stabbed in the gut until now. “Don’t act like you understand shit about how I’m feeling right now!”

From just beyond, Tony started walking over, stepping quickly. “Hang on, Kid.” He cut in, stopping just a few paces behind Peter. “Don’t blame Peter for this.” His words practically turned up the heat on your burning rage. It was an effort to keep from boiling over. “I was the one who told him to keep quiet.”

The shakiest breath you’d taken all night forced its way down your throat. You finally pulled your eyes from Peter, watching your own father flinch at just how hurt you were. “No, you were the one who decided to be selfish!”

The room had never been so quiet, even the walls and the city beyond hushed to listen. 

“I don’t care who you thought you were saving here, but it wasn’t me.” Perhaps rage wasn’t the word you should use to describe the venom dripping off your words. You were seething, a mixture of betrayal and downright distraught. 

“I am not useless.” You felt the need to emphasize; to you, or the two faulty in front of you, no one could tell. “I may be the only powerless person in the fuck ass Avengers, but at least I’m fucking honest.”

When you met Peter’s eyes again, you almost couldn’t keep your composure. Maybe he was breaking apart just as quickly as you were, but you didn’t put in effort to hold room for an apology for him. You didn’t see the need to give one at all. 

“I’m sorry..” He couldn’t bring his voice above a whisper, above the tremble shaking each breath he took. And watching the way your father’s posture craned in sympathy to it finally gave you a cue to leave. You couldn’t take it anymore. 

You glanced between both of them, still ignoring the consistent stream of tears dripping off your nose and chin. “You both fucking should be.”

Holding your head high, you made your way up the stairs, pausing three steps up your trek when you heard a singular step in your direction. 

“Don’t fucking follow me.”

And you didn’t look back. 

The second you shut and locked your bedroom door, unshakable sobs spilled from your throat and choked you dry. You had never felt so isolated, so alone, and so pained. 

Truly, you did not know how it would get better from here, and all you wanted was to be held. 

You didn’t even know who you'd talk to about this. This betrayal stretched across every person you trusted, further than your eyesight. 

It was stupid, and you blamed yourself, but all you wanted to do was talk to Peter. 

Maybe not about it or to confront it right then, but you suddenly missed him and his support. You felt like that had been stripped away from you. 

You weren't sure how to trust him anymore, let alone anyone else who hid this from you.

It didn’t help that you replayed countless upon countless interactions—with your father, with Ned, and with Peter Parker Spider–Man himself. 

It reminded you of the last time you were mad at Peter, three years prior. 

At the Washington Monument. 

You remember him flaking on the academic decathlon, and flaking the night before. You were upset because he was obviously hiding something and he wouldn’t tell you what. 

“You promised we’d hang out tonight.” You remember calling after him, walking half the length of the hotel hallway after him, too. “I feel like I haven’t seen you all week!”

Peter was a pro at walking backwards, then and now, and as you always knew him to be. Even as you knew him as a klutz, even as it led him to keep walking away from you. “I’ll be back soon. I promise!”

It felt unfair to him to get frustrated with him, but you were. You were upset. “What? So your promises mean nothing?” 

That got him to stop. 

“What? No!” Defense, immediately. His eyes displayed more apology than his lips did, taking steps towards you. “I just.. I have to go, and I can explain it later–”

Your head shook at him. Whatever sparked you to feel upset had been growing for a while. It had been growing since he started ditching you a few months prior. “That’s what you said last time.” There was hurt in your voice, and you know he heard it. 

“But I–”

“We promised to tell each other everything.” You recalled your childhood together, your friendship before you started growing up. The two of you had known each other since elementary school, so changes like this was inevitable. It wasn't fair to hold him to the same standards you used to. “But if you want to go, don’t expect me to be buddy-buddy when you get back.”

You remember how it felt to walk away, but you remembered how it felt to hear him leave even more. That was harmful. 

He was entitled to grow up, just as you were, but the shifty way he started growing distant from you got you overthinking. 

It got you nervous that maybe he was seeing someone, and that hurt more than anything else. Especially that he was hiding it from you. 

What sucked the most was that Peter wasn’t back soon, or even that night. 

In fact, he wasn’t even at the academic decathlon. 

Part of you was relieved to get space from him, seeing how difficult all these feelings were to process; another part worried about him, but every time your anxiety would fester, something would serve a reminder of why you were upset in the first place. 

You won the decathlon without him. As you should.

After that, your team went to the Washington Monument, and Ned swore that Peter would meet you all there. 

“Look!” Ned tried to convince you, tried to break your unamused expression. “His location says he’s almost here.” And the phone screen he flashed at you proved honesty. Peter was minutes away. 

Before you could muster a response, Ned’s screen changed, and Peter was calling him. 

There was an awkward exchange of glances between the two of you before Ned answered the call and you walked through the metal detectors. 

“Peter, are you okay?” You couldn’t help but eavesdrop. You missed a phrase or two while security patted down your blazer. All you caught was Ned muttering a subtle “I covered for you,” and then Liz Allen taking the phone from his hands. 

Something hollow carved into your stomach at the sight, and you began to speculate whether Liz was the girl he was sneaking off with or not. 

You didn’t wait to find out. You walked right into the elevator, joining the rest of your decathlon group. 

You didn’t remember much about the trip up the elevator, all you remember was light emitting out of Ned’s backpack and something radioactive blasting right into the roof of the cart. 

Suddenly, with trembling limbs and a newfound panic, your squabble with Peter Parker seemed more than minuscule. Regret was quick to fill that hollowing pit in your gut. 

You’d blacked out a lot of those scarce moments in the elevator. But you remembered when it was safe enough to move, the security guard began to open the hatch at the top of the elevator cart, and one by one help your classmates out. 

It wasn’t until there were four of you left in the elevator that it finally fell down the shaft towards your demise. There, in that Monument, you would die with Ned, Liz, and your teacher, Mister Harrington, you were sure of it. 

You’d never forget the relief you’d felt at the sight of red and blue rushing toward you, plummeting quicker than you were, and webbing your way to safety. 

It felt odd to look back on, knowing now that it was Peter who pulled that elevator up to your safety. How you were only concerned then with apologizing to Peter Parker, who glanced at you there from beneath that mask, completely unbeknownst to you. 

Once he’d gotten you up to the top of the Monument, Ned was the first to leap out to safety, then Mister Harrington. The two of them helped Liz get out, and to your luck, just as you took a step forward, the webs above you snapped. 

You and Spider–Man fell with a blood curdling scream breaking through you. 

“NO!!” He called after you, and quickly shot a web up to the roof again. His other arm reached out toward you, webbing your wrist rather quickly, keeping you from falling any further. 

“It’s okay. You’re okay– I got you. You're okay..” He told you, his tone as gentle and soft as you knew it to be; yet, not a single thought crossed your mind that it was Peter Parker. 

You shakily dangled beneath him as he tugged you up from that web. You fought to look up at him, to keep yourself from looking down; you fought to keep the tears at bay as the shock flooded from your system. 

The second your hands touched, he pulled you up and into him. You wasted no time before wrapping your arms around him, hugging him for dear life. And it made sense, now, why he felt so familiar—why his warmth was so comforting, and why his arm around your waist felt like it belonged there. 

He held you securely, lulling those reassurances to you, pulling the two of you up to safety at the top of that Monument. 

Just before he set you down, you held him tighter. “Pe–Peter!” You gasped, and felt every muscle beneath your hold tense. 

Now, you knew why. 

You pulled back from his arms, “Peter Parker, my– my best friend! He was on his way over here.” Your voice shook as you explained, but watching him carefully set you on the ground helped to steady yourself a little. “Can you make sure– Could you make sure that he’s okay?”

Looking back, the reason why Spider–Man gaped at you so long must’ve been Peter contemplating whether or not to tell you who he was right then and there. He stared at you, beneath that mask, for what felt like minutes. 

He gave a singular, upside down, nod. “I can do that, ma’am.” And his thick, Bronx, accent threw you off more than you wanted to admit. 

Then he fell down the empty shaft of the elevator. 

You’d never forget the moment he found you after that. 

You had just gotten out of the Monument. With a shaky hand, you went through your phone to track Peter’s location. It said he was a matter of meters from you, but you couldn’t spot him in the crowd. 

Just as you went to ask Ned, Peter’s voice hollered out, calling your name. 

Both of you turned in his direction, the crowd of people parting for him as he ran over to you, catching you in a bone–crushing hug. One of his hands cradled your head into his chest, and the other kept itself snug around your waist, just like Spider–Man had earlier. "I'm so glad you're okay.." He whispered it into your hairline, just for you to keep.

The world washed away in the arms of Peter Parker. You couldn’t help but wrap your arms around him, too, hugging him effortlessly closer. Apologies from your argument the night before fell from your lips, and he also followed suit. 

You recalled that memory as something that defined how you and Peter operated—no matter what, you couldn’t stay mad at him. 

You would always find a way to forgive him. 

Now, remembering the incident was a bit more haunting. There was no telling how you and Peter would come back from this, nor just how long you’d go without each other.

And you didn't think Spider–Man would get you out of it, this time.

tag–list: @yourfavoritefangirl @inkedeye2345 @wxnterwidow333 @generalmoonpolice @elianamarie-blog

comment for the part three tag list;)

[naoluvs]

DATING HCS ~ Bart Allen

Pairing: Bart Allen x F!Reader

WARNINGS: none💪

-bro’s probably playing at least 5 sports. so be prepared to be a supportive girlfriend; it’s quite fun actually.

-Friday night going to Central City for Bart’s badminton championship, Saturday morning making your parents drive you to Gotham for his tennis games, and finally Sunday afternoon for his track and field race in Smallville.

-always being absent at hangouts with your friends

“hey, girl, wanna go out saturday? i heard this karaoke bar opened up near that cafe you hate.” your friend asked. you were facetiming her, while getting ready to go to Bart’s basketball game.

“uhm, about that…” you gave her an apologetic look, but she just stared at you, motuh agape. “that sporty little friend-stealing boyfriend of yours has another championship that you have to attend?”

“today he has a game. a basketball game.” you shook your head, finishing your makeup. “i’ll give him balls to play with, maybe then i can enjoy some quality time with you!”

-he’s one hell of a bragger

you sat in the first row of the stacked bleachers with Traci, Jaime, Eduardo and Virgil, along with scattered parents and friends of the players, cheering for your boyfriend.

after Bart scored the 5th goal that match, he slides on his knees to the side you sat on. he then got up and turned around, pointing at the number on his back (the date of the day you were born) with his thumbs and blowing a kiss in your direction.

after the match ended with the score 6-2, his team cheered in the middle of the field, but Bart ran towards the stands, and helped you hop over them.

he pulled you in for a kiss, before his teammates came dashing over him.

OR

imagine you went to wish Bart good luck in the locker room. he was alone, all his teammates already on the field warming up.

“hello, pretty.” he smiled, walking towards you, cleats clanking on the floor. “i guess you know why i came by.” you shrugged, wanting to hug him.

but Bart had other plans. he placed a hand on your waist, pulling you in for a kiss. a meesy and sloppy kiss.

he clearly kisses you before the game starts and after, in the breaks, after scoring a goal and before scoring a goal.

-he definitely is a collector. you give him an origami? you give him a letter? you give him a sticker? you give him any random shit? he’s putting in a shoebox with your name written down on it.

Bart asked you to come over so he can cuddle, but once you saw the wreck his room you suggested to clean it together.

and while looking under his bed, you found a shoebox, with your name written in bold letters, hearts all over. “what’cha find?” Bart asked, glancing over your shoulder, while holding the overflowing basket of dirty clothes.

“something interesting.” you shrugged, opening it. only to find basically everything you gave him since your first date.

heck, there even was the note he passed you during english class where he asked you out

wanna go out with me? ▢ yes, ▢ no

the moment he received the note back he screamed ‘hell yeah’, and he got a warning from the teacher.

-at least once a week cooking/baking dates. he literally run on the fastest metabolism you ever met.

-his place, your place, someone’s place. phone opened with the recipe screenshot and ingredients on the countertop.

-he’s actually not a bad cook. it’s just that he does stuff too fast.

“okay, a tablespoon of sugar.” you spoke, wanting to grab a spoon from the drawer, but a certain zoom made you stop. “already done.”

“next, we need 200ml of-“ “poured it.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, leaning over to look in the bowl, as Bart smiled. “can you add-“ “the ingredients are all in. do you want to mix them?”

-i just KNOW he paid Jaime to take pictures of you went you went on a double date with him and Traci. he’s just slipping a 20$ bill in Jaime’s pocket as you walk towards the arcade.

“hey, Dick, do you have 20$?” Bart asked, walking towards the black haired male. “why?” Dick replied, eyes not leaving the monitor.

“i’m going out with y/n, Jaime and his girlfriend. and i’m a little short on cash.”

Dick just laughed, before his hand digged in the pocket of his suit, pulling out a packet of gum and some spare change. “here you go. 40 bucks so you have enough to pay Jaime for the next time too.”

“thank you- wait. how did you know?”

-i also tend to think that Bart uses all those cheesy ass nicknames.

-snugglebug, honeybuns, sweet cheeks, sugarplum, tater-tot, honeydew, fluffy bear, doodlebug, buttercup, baby cakes, all that.

“hey, toodles, have you seen my visors?” Bart yelled, as you walked in his room, arms crossed. “i told you last night 4 times that they’re in the second drawer of your desk.”

“and can’t you find a normal nickname?” you groaned, walking back to the living room. “i’ll think about it, darling dumpling!”

-makes you play NPC phone games when you’re out. no questions asked.

-maybe even raises your rank when he has the chance, claiming he’s helping you

you were out in the park with Bart. today was a sunny day, and you were lucky to find a free spot that didn’t have sun flashing directly in it.

you were sitting on the bench, playing with Bart’s hair, as he sat with his head in your lap. “hey, y/n. give me your phone.”

you just placed it in his face, before continuing to take in the fresh air, enjoying a peaceful moment, before that stupid game Bart made you install began playing at full volume.

-can’t keep his hands off you. over your shoulder, around your waist, cupping your face, on your thighs. and because of that, his hand placement makes you discover shit that only you two find funny

“dude, what are they doing?” Jaime asked Virgil, watching you and Bart. he had his hands around your waist, yours around his chest, legs completely tangled.

you two were rolling on Jaime’s bed, from the head to the end, laughing like you were sprayed with laughing powder.

all that while Jaime and Virgil were over at the poor latino’s desk, cussing at his math homework while trying to find the value of x.

a/n: this just passed my mind and i decided to post it; might be the start of my bart allen phase..

[bakudekuficlibrary]

Do you guys have any fake dating bkdk with a nsfw and angst

BakuDeku: Fake Dating ( angst & nsfw ) 28 Works.

Vicious by feelslikefire ( E | BKDK | 105,173 | 13/13 )

Midoriya and Bakugou wind up in the very last position either of them thought they'd be in: Hero Partners. It's not fun, but they learn to cope. Their first big assignment together takes them undercover to infiltrate a cult, but the situation turns out far more sinister than they first thought.

(Or: Midoriya and Bakugou pretend to be Fake Married, join a cult, start having sex, and learn not to suck as partners, not necessarily in that order.)

What I can never tell you by Mikacrispy ( E | BKDKBK | 27,067 | 6/6 )

‘Bakugou suffered an accident. You need to come back. Now.’

After living in the US for 5 years, Izuku returns to take care of a concussed Bakugou who believes they're engaged. Now, Izuku has to pretend he's in a relationship with the man he's loved for most of his life, knowing that it's just a matter of time until Katsuki gets better and realizes it's all a lie.

Courting for the Camera by imnotpoppunk ( E | DKBK | 111,654 | 29/29 )

"Courting," she says, simply, beginning her pitch. Izuku's eyes go impossibly wide, already not liking the direction this is headed in. "One of the things that people love to see in other public figures is when they begin to court their prospective mates. So, I've devised a plan to stage courting rituals with you and a potential mate, all of which will be either posted to your social media or accidentally captured by paparazzi."  NightMight Pro Hero Agency is dealing with backlash from the public over their top hero, Deku, being an unmated alpha, and their concern is only growing as the Hero Ranking Polls draw nearer.

Similarly, Fat Gum Hero Agency is struggling to find a compatible alpha to calm their explosive omega, Ground Zero.

And so, the two agencies strike up a deal: plan a fake courting between the two heroes and everyone ends up happy. Right?

Maybe.

Someone Borrowed by mynameis152 ( E | BKDK | 138,996 | 38/38 )

It felt like hours that he stared at Izuku, coming to terms with the fact that a man, his childhood best friend, whom he hadn’t seen since their senior year of high school, was there in front of his very eyes. Then his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched before he uttered through gritted teeth the very name Izuku had longed to hear for years.

“Deku.”

Spyderwebs by surveycorpsjean ( E | BKDK | 69,069 | 8/8 )

Katsuki and Izuku are tasked with an undercover mission as a couple aboard a luxury cruise ship. The problem is, they haven't seen each other in years.

lover's compass by sapphicflower ( E | BKDK | 55,177 | 5/5 )

Katsuki and Izuku are rival spies from separate agencies, and generally try to stay clear of each other's missions if it can be helped.

However, when their missions seem to diverge into one, they must collaborate for the first time since their falling out from several years ago. Forced to pose as a lovesick couple who are checking in to a romantic getaway island, Katsuki and Izuku have no choice but to set aside their personal differences for the sake of keeping up appearances and not getting caught by other enemy spies.

To say that Katsuki is not fucking happy about this arrangement is the understatement of the century.

Read {between} Your Lines by greatcloudninja ( E | DKBKDK | 54,252 | 18/18 )

Midoriya Izuku, up-and-coming actor, has finally hit his big break: he's been cast as one of the leads in a film based on the first book of a best-selling novel series. Even better, his co-star is none other than his idol, Bakugou Katsuki, who has been acting for over twenty years.

However, Bakugou seems to have it out for Izuku, leading to tension both on and off set. When some incriminating photos surface, the studio suggests an extreme form of damage control: having Bakugou and Midoriya fake a relationship to get ahead of the rumors. But not all of Midoriya's fans are accepting of the relationship...

Can the two of them get through filming without killing each other first, or will hate turn to passion along the way?

to have and to hold by maquina ( E | BKDK | 43,019 | 10/10 )

Teased for being permanently single, Katsuki bets he'll have a plus one by the day of Kirishima and Mina's wedding. As the event rapidly approaches, he instead reaches out to his former childhood best friend, Izuku, and invites him to be his fake boyfriend.

What could go wrong?

The Boyfriend Theorem by imnotpoppunk ( E | DKBK | 80,930 | 23/23 )

Katsuki is the first omega to ever play for the UA University men's hockey team. He's just not sure how much more he can take before he cracks under the pressure of it all.

Izuku is an alpha grad student working on his PhD in philosophy. He's also working on keeping himself convinced that it's his one true passion in life.

A tutoring session leads to a white lie to save face and after that things get more complicated than either of them had intended.

Pretty Boy by Hopeless Creations ( E | BKDKBK | 422,116 | 65/65 )

Katsuki Bakugo is the arrogant heir to a multi-billion dollar company. Mitsuki Bakugo is, quite frankly, done with his shit, and threatens to disown him if he doesn't start bringing a partner to events to show he's taking his future seriously. Izuku Midoriya is an escort.

What could possibly go wrong?

The Pretty Woman BakuDeku AU you didn't realize you needed in your life, with a twist!

OR;

“The fuck did you just call me?”

Izuku stared him down, green eyes glinting and refusing to show sign of weakness. Thank god his shaking hands were hidden in the darkness of the vehicle. “Well, since you seem to have a nickname for me, I figured I should have something fitting for you, too, right? Mine means useless, I presume, and yours is…” He looked Katsuki up and down, pursing his lips, before his face again broke out into a smile, seasoned with just the right amount of patronizing. “Cute.”

[ Graphic Depictions of Violence | Past Rape/Non-con | Abuse | Heavy Trigger Warnings ]

Break my heart by SapphicPandaBear ( E | BKDKBK | 70,376 | 29/29 )

"You mentioned practice," says Izuku. "What were you thinking?"

"Depends on boundaries."

Izuku covers his flustered emotions with a laugh. "We could always start with road head."

Silence.

Damn. Maybe he went too far. "Sorry, Kacchan, I—"

"Too dangerous," says Katsuki, his voice low and rough. "Handjob would be easier."

Izuku's heart stutters in his chest.

---

Or, a grievous misunderstanding drove a wedge of silence between Katsuki and Izuku for 7 years. Now a dangerous honeypot mission has them undercover, investigating a politician suspected of violent hate crimes and a suspect BDSM club, all while navigating each other's volatile emotions under forced proximity.

[ Graphic Depictions of Violence ]

Izuku and Katsuki's Guide to Fake Dating by TheFifthCharmedOne ( E | BKDK | 16,783 | 10/10 )

Mitsuki has been repeatedly asking (read: harassing) her son about settling down with someone despite his apparent lack of interest in doing so. After a long day of hero work, the last thing Katsuki feels like doing is talking about this crap with his mom. So, he tells her he's dating Deku just to shut her up. And it all rolls downhill from there.

how he should've known (and how it turned out) by vannral ( E | BKDK | 43,918 | 13/13 )

Izuku should’ve listened and known and watched out for this so he wouldn’t be here, in this position. But he is, and everything is awful.

In which Katsuki and Izuku pretend to be a couple to avoid journalists, the plan backfires magnificently because of course it does, and the act goes on. Includes feelings, pining, domestic fluff and jealousy.

Not-Dating by MiraChaDoodles ( E | BKDK | 14,290 | 1/1 )

“On a...date…” Izuku repeated the word as though it made no sense. As though the four letters that formed “date” simply didn’t mesh together to create meaning in his mind. They truly didn’t seem to. D-A-T-E. Katsuki couldn’t be saying that word to him...right?

---

Or, Katsuki takes Deku on a not-date to save his career, only to find himself wishing it were real.

Whiplash by Flarewrites ( E | BKDK | 29,061 | 5/5 )

Shouto: Let me get this straight. Shouto: You’re in love with your fiancé, who is also not your fiancé because he proposed on purely platonic terms but now you’ve caught feelings and you don’t know what to do. Izuku: YES! No? I don't know.

OR the one in which Izuku and Katsuki are both disaster gays and Shouto wants to bang both their heads together.

A Kiss as a Lie by Fawn_Eyed_Girl ( E | BKDK | 39,522 | 7/7 )

Izuku might be the Number Five hero in the country, but the adorable young man is not immune to the thirst of social media. When his boss is finally tired of having one of his top heroes sexualized and picked apart, body part by cute body part, he comes up with a suggestion he thinks will fix everything:

Izuku needs a fake girlfriend, at least through the big Hero Gala, which is two weeks away.

Except that Izuku is not interested in girls.

Luckily, there’s another hero at the agency who offers to be Izuku’s fake boyfriend.

Unluckily?

It just so happens to be Izuku’s crush from the time he was…well, forever, if he’s being honest.

How will he survive the next two weeks as Kacchan’s “boyfriend”?

With artwork commissions by kalcia 💖

What a damn hero by SaysiWrites ( E | BKDK | 5,904 | 1/1 )

When Izuku comes across an account full of photos captioned "send this to guys who won't leave you alone" it seems like the perfect way to get clingy suitors off his back. What he doesn't expect is a spiral of stupid actions that leads him to asking the man to play along.

Nor does he expect to find out the buff angry dude is a pro hero.

love is a labour (i'll slave til the end) by nikkiRA ( E | DKBK | 3,830 | 1/1 )

"You know," Kacchan says, although Izuku clearly doesn't. "Just scent me, and act like we're together. It doesn't have to be a big deal."

But it is a big deal. It's a very big deal, because Izuku is madly in love with him, and it's hard enough hiding that on a regular basis. And now Kacchan wants him to pretend to date him? To be mates? How was Izuku supposed to do that?

But how was he supposed to say no?

Blurry by spicymacaron ( E | BKDK | 4,614 | 1/1 )

When his mom tries to set him up on a date, Izuku panics and tells her that he’s dating Katsuki. Surprisingly, Katsuki agrees to be his fake boyfriend for a week until they can publicly break up. The problem is, Katsuki’s starting to take his role seriously and Izuku’s finding it harder to pretend.

Not So Fake After All by kyramidoriya ( E | DKBK | 12,275 | 5/5 )

Izuku and Katsuki have always been a bit too competitive. It gets them into trouble this time when they bet who can keep a fake relationship going the longest. The worst part? They have to do it while keeping their genuine feelings a secret from each other.

Who's going to win the bet? And can they keep their love hidden?

[Abandoned] bring me the head of a love song (bring me the head of a lie) by saekimchi ( E | BKDK | 32,813+ | 6/?)

“We aren’t dating,” Izuku blurts out, only just managing to keep from spilling to the head of his Hero Office just how thirsty he is for big, mean, and blasty. Katsuki makes a disgruntled noise that Izuku is too preoccupied to parse out the exact meaning of, but there might be something close to agreement in there so he’ll take what he can get. “We aren’t dating, so--”

“I don’t know,” says Ryo smoothly, flipping the newspaper around so he can inspect the photograph more closely. “Usually when your tongue is that far down another person’s throat, it’s a good indicator that something special is going on.”

Chapter 8 of How Long Will This Last by osakakitty ( E | BKDK | 1,822 | 1 out of 12 )

Prompt 8: “I need you to pretend we’re dating…”

excuses by wbtrashking (orphan_account) ( M | BKDK | 15,089 | 1/1 )

Four weeks isn't a lot of time to find a date to a wedding, but Todoroki issues Bakugou a challenge and the blonde refuses to back down.

He happens to run into Midoriya, so he asks the shorter man to accompany him as his fake date for the occasion. Bakugou figures it'll be good for both of them―he hasn't been on a pleasant date in years, and Midoriya needs to move on from his recent breakup.

It winds up being as fun as it is complicated. That's just Bakugou's luck.

Hold me like you mean it! by Unoutan ( M | BKDK | 8,420 | 1/1 )

Kacchan needs a favor of him and he never openly asks for this help! This is, but one addition to the signs that their relationship is progressing closer and closer as friends, but...is that all Izuku wants? He will never say no to Kacchan when he needs his help. Never.

[Abandoned] I do but I don't - we're really fucked by greekfreaks ( E | BKDK | 127,458+ | 18/25 )

Where Olympic swimmer Bakugou Katsuki gets into serious trouble after a UA student exposes him as something he says he isn’t – a raging homophobe. With the threat of the IOC disqualifying him from the upcoming Tokyo games, his famous fashion designer mother, Mitsuki – with the help of his PR team and a long-standing blood pact with Inko – devised the ultimate plan:

Dating your childhood friend (and enemy) Midoriya fucking Izuku.

Kiss and don't tell by SaffronRum ( E | BKDK | 42,203 | 47/47 )

When Katsuki Bakugou stumbles into Izuku's shop, Kiss and Tell, he didn't expect the pro hero to need his under-the-table services.

What would happen if Katsuki found out it was all a scam?

(short chapters of approximately 800 words)

You and Me and a Baby Makes...Me by Fawn_Eyed_Girl ( E | BKDKBK | 106,361+ | 26/? )

Bakugō Katsuki wants to break into the Top 10 heroes in Japan more than anything. He’s put in the work; he’s strong and capable. The only problem is his…”attitude,” which makes him the Hero People Love to Hate.

On the other hand, Midoriya Izuku is the number 2 hero, and beloved by everyone...except Katsuki. Once childhood friends, and now bitter rivals, and reluctant business partners, Katsuki just can’t deal with Izuku’s success.

Then one day, a daring rescue leads Endeavor and All Might to concoct a plan that just might be the perfect makeover for Katsuki. It’s an idea that Katsuki hates, and Izuku loves.

An idea that Katsuki fights against with his entire being, especially when he starts to fall in love with it—and with Izuku—too.

[Abandoned] Reluctantly Yours by Hazel_Halfpint ( E | BKDK | 25,026+ | 4/? )

If you asked Midoriya Izuku about himself, he'd tell you he's average. He loves his mom and siblings, and works hard to reach his goal to be a quirk-related counselor. Unfortunately, part of that working hard, includes interning with his (attractive) hot-headed, crass, and annoying boss at Endeavor Agency. Bakugou Katsuki; Japans Number 2 Pro-Hero and sought-after Alpha bachelor. Izuku does his best to keep to himself, doing what's requested of him, and going home.

Until he finds himself in a meeting with Endeavor, Bakugou and the Hero Commissioner. In rapid succession three things occurred, 1. Endeavor mentioned Bakugou settling down. 2.Bakugou looks like he wants to explode, until he notices Midoriya. (That look never means anything good.) 3. The blond alpha says six unthinkable words, "Izuku and I are getting married.”

**Inspired by "The Proposal" w/Sandra Bullock & Ryan Reynolds**

[moosesarecute]

Chapter 3: The Shadow to my Flame

Series masterlist

masterlist

Relief filled Ashe’s body as she let her friend in through the door before she closed it.

“You scared me for a second there,” she told him.

Eris had already sat down on her bed, head leaning against the wall and eyes closed.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he answered. “It’s just been a rough day.”

Ashe sat down on the other side of the bed with her legs crossed. They just sat in silence for a little while. Eris never wanted her to ask and pry about his feelings. He would talk when he was ready, and that wasn’t yet.

Eris had saved her from one soldier once. The soldier had refused to let her go, even though she said no. He wanted her, and that wasn’t anything new. She would usually just let them have their way, but that day she had just started her cycle. While most males found that disgusting, that male didn’t care. It was almost like it made him want her more. Eris had randomly walked by and punched the male in the face. Eris had then helped Ashe into a warm bath.

Eris would since come to her room about once a week. Not to have sex as most the of soldiers thought, but to speak freely. Both of them.

It was terrifying at first, but eventually Ashe started to look forward to it. Their conversations were casual and safe.

“I got them out,” Eris started to speak. “The mother and her children. I helped them over the border to Summer.”

“That’s amazing, Eris.”

Eris abruptly stood up.

“They shouldn’t need to leave, Ashe! They should be able to live here as normal.”

She knew he wasn’t angry at her, but she also knew that he couldn’t show his true feelings to anyone that wasn’t her. So, she let him speak.

She listened to him as he poured his heart out. He was pacing in her small room, and every time he got close to the closet, Ashe got scared he would somehow know about the money and letter inside. Each time he turned to pace back the other direction, she felt like she could breathe again.

“I’m sorry.”

After each and every rant, Eris would end by saying sorry. Ashe had stopped telling him that it was alright, he didn’t listen to her anyway.

“How’s work?”

It was now Ashe’s turn. And she was so ready to speak about everything. But at the same time, she really wanted to read what was in the letter from Shadow.

“Honestly, I’m just tired. The amount of work is so much more than before and it’s exhausting.”

Eris’ eyes softened a little as she spoke. It was usual for him to react that way when she spoke. He never wore pity in his eyes. Only guilt.

“Do they pay you more?”

“Yeah, but still not a lot. It’s okay though. I don’t need more money.”

She thought about the money from Shadow. It must have been at least the same amount she would get for two months of work. It was crazy. It must have been a mistake. That was the only reason Ashe could think of.

Eris nodded gravely at her words.

“Chess?”

They spent the rest of the evening playing chess and card-games. Eris had eventually retreated to his own room and Ashe could finally read the letter. She ran and pulled it out the second Eris had left her room.

Thank you so much, Flame. I can assure you we are currently working on figuring out the most effective ways to help.

My High Lord has decided to join the ball Beron is hosting. Will you be there? If yes, you need to make sure you have a safe place to go to if something rather unfortunate happens. (We are not planning anything, but we don’t trust anyone.)

I have sent some money for you as payment for your help. I hope you will continue to share information with me.

Stay safe,

Shadow

And then it suddenly dawned on Ashe that she somehow had become a paid spy for the Night Court.

Ashe slept surprisingly well that night and when she woke up, she felt relaxed and well-rested.

That was until Maria came knocking on her door saying that the High Lord was calling them in for inspection.

Absolute terror filled her body.

Her hair. She hadn’t dyed her hair. She let Maria stand in the open door as she ran to her mirror. Her roots were definitely red. Her dark brown hair didn’t hide it one bit.

“Oh, dear,” Maria said with pity in her voice. “Well, there’s no time to fix it now. Come here.”

Ashe’s shoulders slumped as she walked to Maria. Maria lifted a kitchen towel she had at her waist and tied it around Ashe’s hair.

“Maybe he is less observant than usual,” she said to make Ashe’s anxiety less. It didn’t help.

They walked together with multiple other servants and went to the throne room.

The High Lord was seated at his throne, his wife sat beside him. The room started to fill up with all servants, gardeners and cooks. They stood in four long rows and waited for the High Lord to make his round. Ashe and Maria stood in the middle of the second row.

The High Lord stood from his throne, and it felt like everybody stopped breathing.

He walked slowly, almost too slowly. He stopped before each and every person. He gave some critic, but most of them he just walked past. Ashe saw him pass multiple others with similar scarfs or towels around their heads. He asked none of them to remove it. It made her calm down a little.

He started on the second row. Ashe immediately felt her back straightened. She needed to look proud. He had to see that she was proud of working for him. But at the same time, she couldn’t be too proud. She was a servant after all.

The High Lord stopped before her. She kept her back straight, but her gaze was on the ground. She gave him a small curtsy, just like everyone else had. She felt his gaze burning into her.

“Remove your headscarf.”

His intimidating voice gave her chills, but it was his command that terrified her. He would see it. He most definitely would.

She almost hesitated, but she knew it would only make it worse. She wanted to argue. To scream at him. Why did she have to remove her scarf? None of the others had to.

Luckily, she wasn’t brave enough.

Ashe lifted her hand and removed the towel from her hair.

It only took the High Lord a second before his new command came.

“Show me your arms.”

Her heart sunk. Why? Why did she have to be the first to mess up.

It didn’t matter. She did what he told her to do. She rolled up the sleaves of her dress and showed him both of her forearms. They were already covered in scars and burn marks. Some of the burn marks were from herself, but most of them were punishments.

He didn’t hesitate as he released his power and burned both her arms. The pain spread through her body. Her vision blackened for a few seconds, but for some unknown reason she managed to stand on her feet. Tears build in her eyes, but she didn’t scream. She did not scream.

“You have until tomorrow to dye your hair.”

“Yes, my lord.”

He finally moved to Maria.

Ashe had to stay in the throne room for another hour. Only two more people were punished, and both were new. Unlike Ashe, who had not only grown up as a servant, but also work there for over 150 years. She was so humiliated.

Maria shoved her back to her room. In silence, she put cooling cream over Ashe’s forearms and carefully dyed her hair. She gave Ashe a small squeeze when she finished.

“You can take the Lady this evening. Relax until then.”

Ashe couldn’t to anything but thank her.

That evening it was only planned a small dinner. Meaning, the Lady of Autumn needed minimal help. Ashe had combed through her hair and was using her powers to heat up the small iron-stick as the Lady started to speak.

“You’re brave.”

Ashe almost stopped her task in confusion. Did wasn’t unusual for the Lady to come with such compliments, but it felt unnatural.

“Thank you, my lady,” Ashe answered.

She then picked up one section of her hair and wrapped it around the hot iron-stick. She counted to three and let loose the curl. She continued to the next part of hair. Her forearms were still filled with burn marks that were hurting her, but the quicker she finished the Lady’s hair, the quicker she could go back hiding in her room.

“How old are you now Ashe?”

“160 years, my lady.”

The Lady nodded. She seemed in deep thoughts that evening. Ashe felt herself hope that the High Lord hadn’t done anything bad. But at the same time, she knew it was unlikely that he hadn’t.

“Have you thought about marriage? Or been in love?”

The question caught Ashe off guard. It wasn’t often the Lady would ask such personal questions. It happened once in a while.

“No, my lady. I’m afraid been a servant takes up most of my time.”

The Lady nodded once more.

“I really hope you do find love, Ashe.”

Ashe found herself agreeing before she could even think twice.

Love.

They spent the rest of the time in silence. It was first after Ashe had given her curtsey and was on her way out before the Lady spoke once more.

Ashe was so ready to go to bed, so being stopped was kind of annoying. However, she didn’t let her true emotions show.

“Yes, my Lady?”

The Lady had moved over to one of the draws in her room. She opened it and pulled out a small box.

“I want you to take this. It makes the wounds scar less.”

Ashe couldn’t do anything but take the box. As she walked out of the Lady’s cambers, she felt both embarrassed that the Lady had seen her being in such pain, but also happy that she got some help.

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Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

[littlelemontarte]

at the end of the day, it is way too easy to put the entire blame on nuri. dortmund took the first step into the wrong direction back in 2014, when watzke begged klopp to continue coaching dortmund, despite klopp not really wanting to.

the second step (imo) was how they handled the bomb attack on the squad bus in 2017. the management displayed a certain kind of callousness here, that i found hard to harmonize with the idea of dortmund. this idea of a "football team as a family", no matter how fabricated, begun to show the first cracks.

the fourth major one was all the coaches we used up in that time - bosz, favre, rose (i'm not counting stöger cause he did exactly the job they asked him to do. nothing more, nothing less). i find the rose one especially egregious considering they only gave him one season and fired him for???? daring to speak up???

and i'm not even counting all the wrong decisions in the squad planning, even though they of course massively feature into this mess.

and now? we've fully dismantled whatever club ethics we had with chosing Rheinmetall as our sponsor, we've completely ignored key factors they purposefully used to rebuild the club after the club's financial crash in 2005.

how do they fix this.