#they rant about their family issues together

[whimsicalcotton]

thinking about rachel&kate some more

[atopvisenyashill]

idk it’s like. rhaenyra’s fear and paranoia over what alicent will do to her kids gets her killed. alicent’s fear and hostility over what rhaenyra might do to her kids gets all her kids killed. daeron’s hostility towards daemon (there’s a difference in how he treats brynden & shiera and how he treats daemon & aegor and it’s pointed even if it makes sense) over whether daemon will be a threat to his kids kicks off more than one war! davos is willing to die to protect edric from stannis. jon gets sent to the wall bc of catelyn’s resentment and paranoia and ned’s refusal to deal with the situation and not only does jon’s entire arc in agot deal with the fact that even if the wall is less cruel it still sucks and is a wild miscarriage of justice against all the boys who get pressed into it and crucially, jon is now dead over this shit! maybe the problem is that all of these people keep reacting with fear and hostility and paranoia when confronted with a child who, through no fault of their own, has the potential to be dangerous later in life. maybe the problem is the entire concept of legitimacy and the way it destroys every family it comes into contact with, and keeping that system going is a moral failure on the part of our heroes, from the patriarchs who set their families up for failure to the ladies who understandably react with hostility and isolation towards their husband’s bastards to the noble born children who are learn from their parents’ example and make sure to drive home the fact that their siblings are lesser, base creatures because of something they have no control over. perhaps the point is that everyone in this system has blood on their hands and the series is saying “so now you know you’re complicit. now what are you going to do about it?”

[edgyandoverzealous]

I'm a Zokka shipper, I am in fandom purely for fun, as I am under the impression that everyone is.

[kidfoundonstreets]

I DONT HAVE THE IMAGES IRGHT NOW BUT YOU UNDETRNSAD?? YOU GET ?? YOLU GET? IM MADLY I NLOV WITH YOU TIWLIGHTRCADE MY GOOD FRIEND MY COMRADEMY RIDE ROD IE

[onesmallbee]

I think I've cried more in front of my partner in the two months we've lived together than I have with anyone else since I was under like 7

But it makes sense, too, because I've never felt so safe with anyone else

[p1n-p0int]

Honest to gods, I'm working on that that hc, but hear me y' all...

I have a "Ghost who's too closed off due to his trauma, doesn't talk about his past nor his work (the details he's allowed to say), and a reader who is desperately trying to save him from drowning in his self-hatred, and everything seems fine between them til the day before Simon's countless employments where reader pokes the bear too hard and Ghost snaps at them before leaving for the base" agenda running free in my mind

Like man, he loves you but the constant betrayals he went through, both familial and work related, before making him unable to let you into his comfort zone properly. Don't get me wrong; this man loves you to death and could do anything and everything, illegal or not, for you at the drop of the hat, but the thought of you knowing about his past? It sends him spiralling.

Thus why he doesn't see any issue in keeping you at arm's length and out of his business 'til the night before he has to depart for a mission.

You randomly begin to talk about hypothetical marriage and children you two are going to have one day. A happy life together you wanted for yourself and Simon... He threw you a side-glance telling you to drop it, he told you twice when you insisted on interrogating him as to why a loving family he could come back to from employment sounds bad... He has never meant to verbally snap at you the way he did - you backing away from his reach zone and putting a heavy kitchen table between him and you as an additional barrier, your brain was terrified of the man you were seeing in front of you. But it was not your Simon that was speaking, it was some twisted, traumatized soldier? child? part of him peaking its sorrowful head out, that much you knew - triggered his traumas. He couldn't hold it in. You pushed way too many times and his glass-like wall broke under the pressure.

When he was done ranting off to the grimy image in his head and looked up at you, scared of him, he bolted, grabbing his things and running out of your shared flat, not able to face you and the look on your face that's going to haunt him for the rest of his days. Because, sworn with a hand to his heart, he thought he singlehandedly ended the relationship there and then.

I don't have detailed route options for this one, but definitely, just like for Price, I'm planning for:

that hits all the raw points and talks about all the important topics of mental health, PTSD, self-worth and trust issues, you name it basically. A bit darker, with Ghost literally going through it to make himself better for the reader and first and foremost himself. (Groveling on his knees, fix-it route)

Ghost coming back from the employment, determined to discuss the previous fight with them, explain his side of view... Only to find the reader long gone from their apartment. (Angst route)

[candlemousse]

ENTRY 1 ✦ ❰❰ small ways they show they care

↳ neuvillette ✘ baizhu ✘ diluc ✘ ayato ✘ albedo ✘ childe ✘ kaeya ↳ pure fluff | no warnings apply ↳ this is a draft ive had since 2023 i got sick of looking at it i needed it OUTT. i didnt edit it either so dont even bother sending hate lmfao ik. i agree with you ↳ gn! reader | 588 word count | sfw

Sweet Neuvillette who would rather give up his water drinking hobby altogether than let you walk home alone after an outing together. The mere idea was alien to him; ensuring you got home safely was as much as second nature to him. What kind of gentleman would he be if he didn't? There isn't much risk though either way, no one in Fontaine would ever dare laying a harming finger upon the lover of the feared and respected Chief Justice. But nevertheless he insists.

As an esteemed doctor, Baizhu takes his profession in medicine very seriously, and puts great effort into caring for his patients; and even perfectly healthy you're still a point of concern for him. When you aren't healthy however, his priorities shift from taking care of his patients full time to keeping you at the pharmacy to personally ensure you get better while still attending to his other patients.

Diluc isn't a fan of alcohol, which is unorthodox considering how he owns the most famous winery in Teyvat. So while he hardly ever does indulge in beverages other than water, he always has your favorite drink on hand for whenever you may show up. He'll never admit it aloud to another soul, but it isn't any secret between you two how subtly touch-starved he is; so any affection after a particularly long day would be deeply appreciated.

Ayato likes to keep his work life and personal life entirely separate, which would mean keeping the details of your relationship anonymous to the public. But that doesn't mean he loves you any less, of course not. He spoils you absolutely rotten with his wealth. Anything you need? You got it. Anything you want? It's immediately at your doorstep, all completely tied prettily with a ribbon of your favorite color. And besides, he's all yours behind closed doors.

Albedo adores you so wholeheartedly that you creep into his thoughts even while he works, distracting him even in your absence. Usually, he'd be frustrated by the plug in his workflow; but not if it's you. His writings in his notebook morph into drawings of you that were sketched to the best of his ability, each drawing a memory he enjoyed with you by his side - your smile the day you two built your first snowman, the way your hair blew in the breeze while you packed up after the picnic with Klee, and the way your eyes shone when he surprised you with a cake on your anniversary.

Childe would hardly ever let you pay for yourself. As a fatui harbinger, money would never be an issue for someone who so carelessly spends the company funds, as well as his own. On top of that, he absolutely spoils you rotten; buying you whatever you wish within reason. He'd introduce you to his family of course, his family is very dear to him and you're a part of it now. He feels like hes falling in love with you all over again, seeing you get along with his little siblings.

Kaeya takes it upon himself to ensure your happiness as a personal responsibility, which really isn't as troublesome as it sounds. If anything, he enjoys it- after all, the smile on your face is worth a hundred days of work. Whenever you're down in the dumps, he would most certainly be there with a box of tissues and a shoulder to cry on as he patiently listens to you rant about your miserable day, tossing in his own sarcastic remarks and two cents every now and then.

[crescenthistory]

hi babycakes i LOVE!!!! your fics. every single one of them. and i’ve been thinking…

klepto!barty!!!! klepto!barty!!!!!

barty who just can’t resist taking those cute little bracelets reader wears!!!! barty who’ll steal the occasional polaroid photo from readers dorm!! barty whos not as sneaky as he seems to think… in regards both to his thieving and his feelings…

and you know what? i love YOU baby, thank you for sharing such a beautiful thought

klepto!barty is so real to me, very much in the same way that pyro!barty and compulsive liar!barty are so real to me

in general, i fully believe that barty has self-destructive coping mechanisms and impulse control issues. together, that creates a very spicy and spiky mental health and public persona.

however, it's so interesting to consider how those affect his relationship(s) -> familial, platonic or romantic

i believe he is all-or-nothing in how he loves, and that often involves becoming rather obsessive in both positive and negative ways

and this is at every stage in the relationship – prior, during and after (though the last one will never apply to us ofc...)

he will remember everything you ever tell him. your favourite colour? he wears it. favourite scent? he sprays it everywhere. best memories? he tries to recreate them.

and god forbid you ever rant to him about someone or something that annoys you, because he will fix it. in whatever way suitable.

so yeah, he is not good at hiding his feelings

i think that when he knows about his feelings himself he doesn't really try to hide them either though, he owns them (and you) loudly and proudly

but this boy has a THICK skull and wouldn't know before you two kiss honestly

everytime you walk together he slips something in or out of your purse/pocket/bookbag

slips in something he knows you might like, whether it's a trinket or a crystal for whimsy!reader or a new pen or ink for studious!reader

and he takes whatever feels the most like you, something that gives him that warm rush

like a bracelet, a hairtie, chapstick

(don't even get me started on the obsession he has with your chapstick and lipgloss or lipstick. very much a "i'm jealous of the rain that falls upon your skin" type of man)

in general, it's that rush he chases in everything in life – he needs to feel and he needs to do so intensely

barty was repressed and suppressed by his father for so long, that now if he gets the urge to scream at the top of his lungs, he cannot deign to deny himself that. it fosters chaos for sure, but it is also a quality that will allow you to experience radical comfort in a way you never thought you could.

when he takes something or does something he shouldn't have, it's like he can hear barriers and rules breaking around him like glass, and this little bitch loves it

he might even giggle especially if you enable him

this mf would not be above taking your journal and reading through it either – but he wouldn't even be sneaky or hide it then, he might even do it in front of you

barty always appears VERY comfortable in his own misdoings and chaos. he will just openly take the notebook from your bag, cross his legs and begin reading in front of you as you stare at him affronted.

you might say "excuse me?!" to which he furrows his brows in confusion and asks "what?"

when you become official, your closet is raided on the daily

no matter what house or dorm you're in. barty finds a way.

it is not uncommon for him to walk around in your jumper, but he much prefers when it's something more intimate and discreet that he can carry with him everywhere

like wearing your t-shirt or top beneath his school uniform – he loves knowing that it's there and it's yours and no one else knows

suffice it to say he never cleans your clothes before he takes them either; this is a man that's obsessed with pheromones

nsfw: he is without a doubt an underwear stealer, he hoards them away in his bedside drawer for when he misses you. and to just keep you close.

it's practical for you too, because there's always underwear ready for you at his place! no need to bring any yourself 🙃 end nsfw

he will wear your jewelry too, he absolutely loves seeing a piece of you on his skin

barty is for sure the type to get tattoos of and for his partner. again – all or fucking nothing. and with you, he always goes for all.

klepto!barty is so fun, but so is everything beneath it and what it represents 🤌 thanks for joining me in my brainrot

[nikkeora]

For All the Mary Janes

summary; 'in every other universe, gwen stacy falls for spider-man. and in every other universe, it doesn’t end well'. what about the mary janes, then?

or, in which you're the mary jane to miles's spider-man

pairing(s); e-1610! Miles Morales x reader, e-42! Miles Morales x reader

warning(s); i didn’t have any specific gender or race for r in mind while writing, but rio calls r ‘mija’ once and i think that’s ab it

maybe some incorrect usage of Spanish? Spanish speakers who can respond to my weird questions pls hmu

maybe ooc but it’s been in my drafts so long i just wanted to get it out tbh

implied/mentioned parental issues with reader, not proofread, written (mostly) at ao3 hours

You and Miles were always joined at the hip. Your parents knew each other well, so your families were together a lot. Mr. and Mrs. Morales saw you like their own daughter, often joking that you and Miles would be engaged when you got older with the way he could never leave you alone.

At least, up till around two years ago.

You and Miles started to grow apart when you got into Visions Academy. He thought it was a stupid school full of stuck-up rich kids who only cared about making connections that would help them along further down the line. You thought it was a good school that had a good track record of producing students that had a lot of success in what they wanted to do.

Some things were said the day before your transfer.

Since then, the two of you rarely texted or called. Mrs. Morales would often come by for coffee with your mom, tell you about how her son was doing and gush over 'how much you've grown' from last Tuesday, but that was about the only way you knew the vague outline of what he was up to.

You'd admit you felt lonely for a while. After all, Miles had been your best friend ever since you could remember. But you also weren't going to go running to him after everything he'd said.

I mean, was it really that bad to want a good future?

Soon enough though, you felt like yourself again. You met new people, made new contacts, and actual friends. Because contrary to popular belief, the people there weren't all mini business men and heartless CEOs in the making. They were just kids, after all.

And then, Miles won the draw. Just a few weeks before the start of the new semester, your parents mentioned that he'd be going to your school from now on in passing.

You didn't think much of it at first. I mean, everyone has that one childhood friend that they fell apart with, right? For the first week or so, you didn't even see his face much. In fact, you didn't see him at all, not even a glimpse in the halls.

That was about to change drastically.

Short story shorter, you caught a glimpse of him walking on the side of the school with pigeons stuck to his hands. A month or two later, Spider-Man climbed through your dorm window, ripping off his mask and ranting about some villain of the week.

"I couldn't even catch the guy-"

"Miles?"

"...You're not Ganke."

The two of you made up that night. He apologized, admitting he was being unfair and was upset that you were leaving his school. It didn't exactly clear everything, but it was a start. The two of you caught each other up on everything they had missed. In the end, the sun was about to come up and the both of you realized you hadn't gotten a minute of sleep on a school night.

From then on, the two of you get closer again. He went to you for the occasional rant or patch up, and he actively sought you out in school now, relieved to see a familiar face in the halls. Gradually, you got close to the point you'd call him one of your best friends and vice versa after around a year of radio static.

Everything was great. He was cute, funny - in an awkward way, but hey, he made you laugh - he looked out for you, and when he talked to you he did this cute little thing where he would play with the strings of his hoodie which he somehow always managed to layer on with like two other jackets and—

Oh yeah, did we mention the crush you had on him?

Because there was one.

Big huge one, right here. Materialized out of thin air looks like.

Which should have been fine. You were perfectly capable of hiding a crush. I mean, come on, it's high school. You would've been eaten alive if you couldn't.

Normally, you would even be confident that you could make your crush like you back. I mean, why wouldn't he?

Two words. One person.

Gwen Stacy.

It was like he could never go even one conversation without mentioning her.

Slight exaggeration? Maybe. Maybe not.

"Oh yeah, that's cool! Y'know, Gwen told me one time that—"

"You got an A, I knew you could do it! I told you so. Did you know Gwen got A's in—"

"Oh hey, you got your hair cut! Reminds me of that time when me and Gwen—"

At first, it was bearable. Sure, she came up annoyingly often whenever you talked, but she had just left this dimension, never to be seen again. Of course he was gonna miss her.

You laughed at all his stories, listened to every one even though he told the same six or seven ones over and over again. You even grew to like Gwen, as if you'd known her for the short amount of time Miles did, too.

But then two months passed. Then six. Then a whole year. Before you knew it, a year and four months had passed since the departure of Gwen Stacy.

And he still. Wouldn't. Shut. Up.

You had tried to understand. You really did.

But you can only hear the same damn jokes so many times before you get a migraine.

Pick any story. You could list off every variation of how Miles would tell it off the top of your head.

Gwen Stacy became the daughter of one of your mom’s friends, so to speak. That one girl in the neighborhood you couldn’t help but envy.

And worst of all, it was like he wished you were her.

Whenever you did something, he would tell you how Gwen could do it better. He would ask you whether or not you thought Gwen would like certain trinkets he found around town, and kept a collection of them in one of his drawers so he could give them to her one day. He was even studying quantum physics instead of art so that he could make his own multiversal gateway - a safe one, so that he could unlock the multiverse, possibly for good.

It hurt when he zoned out while you were telling him about you, thinking about her; your day, what you wanted to study, how your parents were fighting a lot again lately and you were struggling because of it, how you'd joined a new band—

"A band, huh?" Miles suddenly perked up, finally looking up from his sketchbook. "Did I tell you Gwen's in a band? It's called the Mary Janes—"

"Miles would you please stop?"

A pause, both of you mildly surprised at how you'd snapped at him.

The two of you were at your dorm, seated side-by-side on the bed with your legs folded in front of you. It was Friday, the day before Mr. Morales’s pre signing-in party.

The boy looked at you, a questioning look on his face. "What's wrong?"

And that tilt with his head - he really didn't know, did he? You couldn't decide if that was better or worse.

"Miles, I know Gwen's in a band," He tried to say something, but you didn't let him speak before you continued. "I know she's a drummer, I know she does ballet, I know she had to shave half of her head because you couldn't control your powers - hell, the whole school knows that—"

"C’mon, don’t bring that up—"

"—I know every single story she told you while she was here, and I know every single detail of what you two did and how you did it. And I know she does everything I can do and she does it better. I’m tired of hearing it, Miles." His eyebrows furrowed, a slightly hurt look flashing across his face. "I’m sorry you miss her and I’m sorry she’s gone, but I just can’t be around you if all you’re gonna do is compare me to her."

A moment of silence settled in the air. You hoped Miles would understand. Surely, he’d see how tedious this was getting.

"All I’m asking is for you to tone it down."

Another beat passes without a word from the boy. He’s looking into your eyes, but it doesn’t seem like he’s all there. Like there’s a world past your irises that he’s seeing for the first time.

"I- I’m sorry, y/n, I can’t do that." Miles finally says, his gaze turning away from yours and to the sketch he’d been working on for the last hour. You glanced down at it as well, the bright blue eyes of the one and only Gwen Stacy meeting yours.

"You’re the only one I can talk to on this," he said quietly, softly closing the sketchbook and tapping a finger nervously on the cover.

"Ganke?"

"Ganke’s fine, he’s great, he’s just.. not someone I can go to for these things."

You took a deep breath, the guilt of having to tell him ‘no’ building up in your chest. You knew his relationship with his parents were complicated at the moment, and he didn’t really have friends outside of you and Ganke. But still.. it was like he wasn’t at all interested in what was going on in your life ever since your initial reconnection.

It wasn’t like you expected a complete 50:50 give-and-take in relationships, but honestly you felt like you were talking to a robot with very limited audio cues.

"Miles, you don’t listen to me anymore. The only time you actually respond to anything I say is when it’s something even remotely related to Gwen."

"That’s not true!" Miles protested. You watched as he tried to find something to argue his point, only to come up empty. His shoulders sagged a little.

"But you gotta understand, Gwen - I’m not gonna see her again, at least until I figure out.. everything." He said in a quiet voice. "I need to talk to someone. Can’t you understand?”

"I’m not trying to shut everything down, I’m just asking you to pay attention to me every once in a while." You sighed. "And if you’e not willing to do that… do you even think of me as a friend?"

-

Miles left your dorm not long after that little talk, sneaking out the same way he snuck in; through the window. You dug your nails into your palms, breathing in and out in a steady rhythm to push down any sadness you may have felt. It was the second time you and Miles had grown apart, this time maybe your fault a little more than his. It felt like it, anyway.

Still, you felt like you’d done the right thing.

You hoped so, anyway.

-

It was an hour before Jeff Morales’s technically-not-captain-yet-but-will-be-soon celebration. Your dad and yourself had come early to prepare everything and set up all the decorations. Your mom apparently ‘couldn’t make it’. It was the third time in the last two weeks she cancelled on plans that your dad was involved in.

You stacked red plastic cups on one of the tables, a cooler full of ice and two-litre soda bottles to your left. Miles’s parents had insisted they didn’t need any help, but your dad had insisted right on back that the two of you wanted to. You didn’t mind. You’d cleared your evening for the event anyway, so it’s not like you had anything better to do.

The one thing that made you kind of regret coming was your lack of a jacket. It’d been really sunny in the morning, so you’d figured it would be a warm night. A breeze picked up and sent a light chill through your body, causing you to just barely shiver.

"Mija," Mrs. Morales called, coming up from behind you and laying a hand on your shoulder. "You’re freezing."

"Oh, I’m fine, mama," you replied, smiling at her. She gave you a look that said ‘we both know that isn’t true’.

"Miles might have something in his room," she suggested, "I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you borrowed one of his clothes."

You thanked her but refused, claiming it might get warmer once the guests started to arrive and the party was at full swing. She must have noticed something was off when she mentioned Miles, because she raised an eyebrow and shook her head lightly before asking,

"What did he do now?"

Either you’re really bad at hiding things from her or her motherly sixth-sense worked on you too. You hesitated, but decided it wouldn’t hurt to tell her. After all, Rio had always been like a mom to you.

"We had a fight - if you can even call it that, anyway, about a girl," you said, fiddling with a plastic cup. "We’re not on real good terms right now, I don’t think…"

Rio looked slightly surprised for a moment, then something seemed to click into place. She sighed and put her hands on your cheeks. "He’s a little bit slow," she said, giving you a sympathetic smile. "But he’ll get there. Eventually."

She then squished your face before immediately letting go, making you laugh. "Now go get yourself a jacket. I don’t want my only daughter to freeze to death."

You held your hands up in surrender as she pointed to the stairs, swiftly making your way down to the Moraleses’ flat. You had a spare key that Miles’s parents had given you a long while ago, when your parents used to have full on screaming matches in the middle of the living room every other day.

Within a couple minutes you’d grabbed one of the dozen coats, hoodies and jackets strewn about Miles’s closet, pulling the soft material over your shoulders as you took a glance around his room. Everything was about the same as you’d seen two or three weeks ago, save for a few new stickers laid about the desk.

There was an all-too-familiar sketchbook on the bed, one similar to what Miles had been scribbling in last night in your dorm, just in a different color. This one looked a bit more used, so you supposed he’d gotten it and packed it full of Gwen Stacy just after she left this reality. The thought put a bitter taste on your tongue.

-

A half an hour into the party, Miles still hadn’t showed up. He was supposed to be here at least twenty minutes ago, and you could tell his parents were getting both worried and annoyed. Rio asked around for her son as Jeff chatted with some colleagues. Suddenly, an auntie shoved a mic into Mrs. Morales’s hand, drawing everybody’s attention to her by clinking her glass. Jeff looked away in what could only be described as complete horror.

"Um, hi…"

You grinned as she continued with embarrassing stories about her husband, from little anecdotes from when they were dating to how he was almost 10lbs as a baby. It was then that Mr. Morales jumped in, quickly taking the mic away from her and giving his own speech.

"—And to my son…"

You grimaced as he raised his cup, looking around for someone who wasn’t there. The two of you met eyes instead, and you shook your head to tell him he hadn’t showed with an apologetic look. He turned to his wife, only for her to do the same. He cleared his throat before continuing.

"…The reason I do any of this in the first place. So.. I love you Miles."

Afterwards, the DJ put the records on again. People are talking, laughing, congratulating, creating a warm, buzzing atmosphere. You’re dragged away by a few little kids to play with them over by a small cluster of barrels, which they’ve decided is their ‘lair’. You play make believe with them for a little while as their parents stand a bit away with your own dad, occasionally glancing over at you to make sure the kids are behaving.

It’s then that Miles finally shows up, pushing the door open with two boxes in his arms. You follow him through your peripheral vision as he tries to avoid his parents, ultimately failing. You’re not sure what they’re saying, but it doesn’t seem to be going that well. He shows them the contents of his boxes, which doesn’t seem to impress them too much.

After a couple more words, Mr. Morales raises his voice, the DJ trying to divert people’s attention away by upping the volume but ultimately giving up.

"What do you got to tell me so bad?"

"You know what? Never mind."

Miles walked away, pulling his hood up as his dad yelled after him about him being grounded for two months. Must’ve been really bad, huh?

You waited for the music to come back on before you made your way to the exit, ruffling one of the little kids’ hair as he skittered away with his sister. You’re just going to check on him for a minute, just to see if he’s okay. You can do that… right? I mean sure, it might be awkward since things had ended like that last night, but still.

No one else was going to.

You let yourself into the flat once again, approaching Mile’s room with soft footsteps. You’re just outside the door when—

"Are these your drawings?"

You stop dead in your tracks. Your heart freezes right along with you. For a moment, you felt like a deer in headlights.

A feeling crawls its way under your skin, cold and slippery. You don’t know how you know, but you’re absolutely positive.

"Missed you too."

Gwen Stacy.

-

You’re on your way home, your hands rubbing up and down your arms to try to warm yourself up during the walk. You lived a little while away from Miles’s place, but it’s nothing you can’t walk.

You’d left the jacket on the Morales’ couch, turning on your heel and leaving the moment you heard her voice.

Damn it.

When had she gotten back? How had she gotten back? What was Miles’s reaction?

What were they doing now?

…Did you really want to know?

As your brain clouded over with questions, you took a wrong turn. Maybe two. Or three. Honestly, you didn’t know. Once you realized that this definitely wasn’t your neighborhood, you stopped yourself mid-step, looking around to see if anything was familiar at all.

Your eyes settled on a building, as there really wasn’t anything other than that around here other than some roads and bridges. One of the windows were glowing.

Then the whole structure began to rumble.

The ground beneath your feet started to turn… black…?

Wha—

-

You fell.

Not for too long, but you did.

You dropped around six feet onto hard concrete, twisting your ankle in the process. You cried out in pain and surprise.

"What the—?"

"Y/n?"

You looked up at that. You knew that voice.

Except, you didn’t.

The first thing you noticed is that this definitely was not the place you were in before. This place was more narrow, more dark. Light rain pattered on your skin as your hands supported your sitting position, wondering what the hell was going on.

The person who’d said your name was at the entrance to the alley you’d been.. teleported? to.

They took hesitant steps over to you, and, for some reason, you didn’t feel scared that this complete stranger had cornered you in a place you’d never even seen before.

Maybe the voice is what made you think it was alright.

Or maybe it was his face, which made your heart stop its primary function for the second time today.

"Miles?"

But he wasn’t Miles. At least.. not your Miles. This one was skinnier, just a little shorter. His accent had more of a Spanish touch to it and, most of all, his hair was braided into two sections that reached just below his shoulders.

No. He was very much not your Miles Morales.

Nevertheless, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. There was something in his eyes — regret? Happiness? Sadness? Anger? Confusion? Probably all of the above.

He got closer, and closer, and closer. Once he reached where you were half-laying, he crouched down and tilted his umbrella until it sheltered your body more than his.

"…Are you hurt?" He asked, giving you a once-over. You just nodded, still putting all the pieces together.

Had you—

Did you—?

The boy in front of you studied your face for a little while, but then ultimately shook his head and shrugged off his jacket, handing it over to you.

"Come on. It’s cold outside."

[fuckyeahimafangirl]

I come here late to give my opinion on what Nicole Maines said in her book about the Supercorp fandom (go to Twitter for more info, but she basically gave her point of view of things as a queer actor on the show having expected things from the queer fans, confirmed we were being queerbaited while also blaming us for some actors getting fired). I appreciate her side of things and feel for her. But reading that I felt that A LOT was overlooked, especially the context of it all. So sit back if you care enough to read this and come with me as I go on a rant and we go down memory lane to give some context into what it was like to watch Supergirl live as a Supercorp fan.

The first season of Supergirl had its fair share of ships. People liked Kara/Cat, Kara/James, Kara/Win maybe anyone? I don't remember that one but I'm sure there were people out there who liked them. Some people even liked Alex/Kara (a conversation for another time). Kara/Cat shippers could also like Kara/James, because both ships had some strong foundations in the narrative, they were undeniably good ships, regardless of how you feel about age-difference relationships or straight relationships lol. There wasn't mostly an issue, except with the ones that liked Kara/Alex.

In between the first and second season of Supergirl it was announced that a main character would be gay. They didn't say who, though. Speculation began, of course. They did say that Maggie Sawyer was coming to the show but it was not confirmed that she was going to be a lesbian and even less whose love interest. 

Then the second season premiered. And in the very first episode Kara Danvers meets Lena Luthor. Their scenes together were filled with sexual tension from the very beginning, look at their meeting scene without context and a bit of an open mind and most people will see their chemistry and think that maybe Kara was meeting her soulmate. And the first scene of Supergirl meeting Lena Luthor? It was already drawing a parallel between them and Lois/Clark, one of most iconic, recognizable and undeniable canon ships of all time. Drawing parallels between these two ships was the creators of the show's favorite pastime and it started from day one, before the ship had any fans because we hadn't met Lena just yet.

But in that episode we did meet her. And we fell in love fast. Because their interactions and the interest concept of Lena's character were good. Could it really be that Kara was the main gay character? Could it really be that they were going to give us an epic love story with Supergirl and a family member of her family's historically known enemy? Could they dare to make the famous superhero anything other than straight?

It wasn't just a delusion on our part at that time. It was a real possibility based on real facts. Kara had suddenly dropped the guy she spent the entire previous season chasing after. She got him and dumped him for no good reason (the writers didn't bother to give it a good excuse) and in the same episode she meets this woman, at the start of the season we were going to discover a main gay character.

These are all facts.

A few episodes later Maggie Sawyer makes her debut and it's clear that she's Alex's love interest from the first moment. Cool. It's not Kara but at least it's Alex (because, at the time, we know, WE KNOW, that they don't have two lesbian/queer women characters in the same show unless they're dating each other. How could we think that gay people will surround themselves with other gay people? silly us), that was the reaction: We still LOVED that it was Alex, because it still made sense. And it was difficult to find Sanvers fanfic without it having Supercorp in it because we were all the same people, of course most of us liked both ships. 

Now, I obviously don't know her, but I seriously don't think that Chyler can say she felt overlooked by the fans that season. Alex's coming out scenes were some of the best we had seen in our entire lives up until that point, and we made that known. Not all of us might have been on board with Sanvers (some storyline choices could've been questionable) but with Alex? No one loved her more than the queer Supergirl fans. And in the meantime Supercorp kept getting screen time, their friendship progressing in a Clois kind of way that was beautiful to witness. While Maggie and Alex's relationship advanced pretty quickly from an "I'm not gay" to a rejection to a proper first kiss, Supercorp was building a bit more organically as Supergirl kept saving Lena's life, as Lena opened up only to Kara, trusting her all the while Kara was keeping this huge secret from her. We ate that shit up, of course we did.

After season two was over we got the news that Floriana Lima (Maggie) was going to leave the show. I remember Chyler saying that she wanted to do right by us and whoever came next was gonna stay. And I'm not faulting Chyler for what came next, at all. Chyler was and always will be one of the best things on Supergirl and she has always treated the fandom with the utmost respect and love. And I hope she only received the same treatment back (and I hate to know she got those letters from people threatening to kill themselves, but let's have a little compassion for those people and their mental health, I hope they're doing well).

So Maggie left. And while some fans were not coping well with that, most fans understood it was the actress' decision. That was fine. What wasn't fine was the decision the writers made by making the breakup about not wanting babies when they were about to get married. How on Earth (any Earth) a couple don't talk about that particular issue BEFORE deciding to get married? It was an easy way out. But okay, it's just a TV show, I don't write it, we can move on from that... In the same season, at the same time this whole discussion and breakup occurs, the very same person who wanted to have kids has a meet-cute with a SINGLE MOTHER, Sam. The story was full of promise, she had a kid already with whom Alex got along amazingly, there was great chemistry between all three of them, Sam also had a dark secret being basically her sister's most powerful enemy, their relationship was mostly well built throughout the entire season. But guess what? She wasn't her new love interest, and left at the end of it. 

A lot of Supercorp fans LOVED AgentReign (Sam/Alex), by the way. A lot of Supercorp fans also loved ReignCorp (Sam/Lena) and a few even loved AgentCorp (Lena/Alex) and SuperReign (lol what was the name of this ship? I don't remember but Kara/Sam). And guess what? There wasn't a war between us. We were mostly the same people multishipping because it's fun and because these were interesting characters with interesting relationships created by the writers. We were inventing and wishing for stuff, but the foundations were laid for us, some (most) things were there and most of us were just screaming that we liked what we were being given and wanted more of that.

And that's why come season 4, some people were having a hard time accepting Dansen. Because we were mourning the loss of Sam and her relationship with Alex, the what ifs are always the worst, no matter the situation.  But most Supercorp fans embraced Kelly (and Azie, we love Azie and what we got to see of her relationship with Chyler, and Katie and Nicole), the vast majority of us ended up loving Dansen despite the writers not always doing a great job at writing their arcs. And it's awful that some fans treated her and other members of the cast horribly, but that was by far a small portion of the Supergirl fandom in general, and especially the Supercorp fandom. And, by the way, as a side note because racism was part of the problem for a minority of the fandom, A LOT of us in the Supercorp side of it are not white people from the US, A LOT of us are from other countries/races/cultures (that can be racist too of course, but the point is we don't know the races and motives of everyone behind a keyboard).

And that season most of us also embraced Nia because she was the first trans superhero, because of her queerness, because she was an awesome fun character, because she was relatable and geeky like most of us. We embraced her, her relationship with Kara and her relationship with Brainy. And we showed that by trending Nia related things, by adding Nia to our fanfics and fanarts. Nia was a Supercorp ally for most of us and we didn't exclude her from the art because we loved her as much as we love some of the other characters in the show.

Now, if Kara would have had, after the first season, one male love interest that was decent enough, we would have still love and wanted Supercorp, that's true (especially when it had been years of build-up) but most of us probably would have liked the pairing anyway, because we loved Kara Danvers and wanted her to be happy and to have the love she wanted at the beginning of the show (which she didn't get, by the way).

But the writers decided to give her, instead, another man who didn't treat her well. And I couldn't honestly tell you half of William's storyline because I couldn't care less. The creators of the show didn't make me care. Hell, I didn't even see Kara cared enough about that character. The writers should know their audience and should know that the audience needs moments to make them care about the characters, the writers have the power to make that happen. Many times I've seen a fandom hate a character one episode and love them by the next one, because sometimes all it takes is one good scene, or one good arc. William never had that. And now we have confirmation of what we knew all along, that maybe they were writing half-assed storylines for their love interests because they were too busy trying to figure out new ways to queerbait us. If they would have put a quarter of that effort into creating good love interests for Kara and/or Lena (but especially Kara), most of this conversation wouldn't still be happening 3 years later.

We embraced Andrea Rojas, we embraced her so much that we shipped her with Lena. Most of us weren't the blind Supercorp-or-nothing crazy fans a lot of people to this day make us out to be. When things were good, we mostly liked them. But please, please, let's be honest here, a lot of the time Supergirl was not a great-written show. And I get that those are Nicole's friends but a little objectivity, especially after all these years, would have come a long way.

These past few days I've read a couple of people saying Supercorp was the only good thing about the show. Those kinds of people were and still are a very very minority. A lot of us started the show before Supercorp existed and LOVED (still love) the Danvers sisters with all of our hearts. And the writers, at times, didn't know how to keep up with that relationship, the one that at first was the very center of the show, all that well either.

Most Supercorp fans didn't actually like that the 100th episode revolved all around Supercorp. 1) Because it was queerbaiting at its finest. 2) because it should've been about the Danvers sisters. Or at least about all Supergirl's most important relationships in equal measure. Yes, Lena was a big part of her, but ALEX EVEN MORE SO. The fandom didn't make that happen, we didn't fire any actor either. These were decisions made by the people who had the power to make anything in the show happen. If we would have had our way we all know what we would have done, and no, it definitely was not p**n (the most used AO3 tags for our ship speak for themselves).

I didn't see Nicole's last paragraph on the subject shared much. A lot of people didn't see that she acknowledged a small portion of the good the Supercorp fandom did.

But by the time you get to it, you already have a bad taste in your mouth. Because it still reads as if she's talking about us all without a care that "the toxic fans" were just a loud minority. Not to say that the good guys weren't louder, because Supercorp is still what it is to this day because we're still loud. So why is there very little mention of that? The way we supported Nia's episode? The way we supported Kelly's?

And because we were having fun and we were loud about our love for two fictional characters, WE WERE ALSO RECEIVING THREATS from some toxic fans, hell, the day before yesterday some fans were receiving death threats like it's 2017. Everything she says the cast and crew were dealing with, the Supercorp fans were dealing with it as well, and more so because the toxic people felt validated by the choices the creators made. Validated by some writers on Twitter making it worse. Validated by some of the actors who were also mocking us. We were all called delusional, and that was the most chill thing you could be called.

I understand her point of view, and I imagine that was not a great first experience in that kind of set, and I would love to have the opportunity to talk to actors about this topic that fascinates me (relationship between fandoms and cast/crew). But context is important, to see other people's point of views is important when having these conversations. She felt her own community wasn't supporting her when most of us were and that didn't come across at all. Not even with her final words. 

The fact is, they were hurt by a small part of their own fandom (which, by the way, they have no idea how old those toxic fans were. Not to say that adults are not toxic. But we, as the non-toxic adults, should also think of the demographic and react accordingly). And most of us, the queer Supercorp shippers, were also hurt by the toxic part of the fandom and by some of the people she's trying to defend. Let's be clear, there's not "mayyyybe," they were 100% wrong in queerbaiting the hell out of us from day one and mocking us for believing the bait. Make no mistake, most of this is a consequence of THAT. 

[sharenadraculea]

If the primarchs had social media

Lion: There is nothing on his accounts. Not even a profile-picture. Someone is still logging into them every so often. Fulgrim: On all the plattforms. Primarely family-blogger: look at my perfect kids, my perfect spaceship, my perfect partner, my perfect healthy breakfest, my perfect make-up. OnlyFans-account on the side. Get‘s into controversies all the time. Perty: Angry rants. Has spent to much time on Twitter. Old man yells at cloud type of stuff. Jagh: And this is how we‘ll break the speed-limit today! Talks about bikes, how to mod them, drives them around very fast, ect. Occasional horse-pictures. Leman: Puppies! Just cute dog-pictures and -videos, of every canine he encounters in the galaxy Rogal: He isn‘t very good at social media. Sometimes posts bad selfies or pictures of his building projects. Completly ignores all of Pertys hate-comments Konrad: He writes fanfic. Edgy, dark, not very good fanfic. The protag is a clear self-insert and Mary Sue and brings justice to all the settings he puts them in. A ton of spelling errors. The plot barely holds together. He is very proud of it. Sang: He has official accounts with pretty pictures of him everywhere, but he has some private accounts that are just like his art and sometimes cute family pictures. Also why can I see Sang having a Vtuber-persona he livestreams with so people don‘t recognize him? Ferrus: Appears on Fulgrims accounts fairly often. Maybe does some gaming-content on the side Angron: Everything is very sporadic and when it‘s there it‘s pretty angry. Surprisingly talks a lot about issues with his disabilities and that he needs way more help than he get‘s and also all his trauma. Struggles a lot with typing and forming sentences, so it can be hard to understand at times. Roboute: A channel with tutorials for stuff like running a planet or putting on armour. If people ask him to explain something he can just send them a link. Morty: Not very active, sometimes pictures of some funky plants and little texts about them. Magnus: Video-essays. He dissappers for months and then returns with a four-hour-video (minimum) about the most random topic. Hugely popular. Horus: Look at my sexy abs! Look at my huge bicep! Soft-porn-pictures of him and his sons. Probally also had OnlyFans. Lorgar: Social media is great for preaching! So he does that! Deletes all his accounts after monarchia. Vulkan: Food! He loves trying out new recipes from diffrentc cultures! At the start of every recipe is a pagelong story, which people actually read Corvus: Also writes Fanfic. Very, very good fanfic if a bit edgy at times. Kind of has a rivalery with Konrad. Also runs a very active blog, about both writing and justice, with occasional bits about guerilla-warfare Alpharius Omegon: Just the worst trolls. Dozens if not hundreds of sockpuppet accounts. They are having a good time.

[i-have-rabies-dw]

This is what the executive order banning all gender affirming care for those under 19 is called. Oh these fucks. They hope for the deaths of so many Americans, rub their tiny little hands together praying for a bunch of trans teenagers grow so disgusted with themselves and so caged by their bodies they fucking kill themselves. I cannot describe my anger. It doesn't matter if I expected it.

Rant below

It does matter, to me, that was how long I was forced to wait in my red area, though I can't describe the depths of hell I went through, I could not describe the levels of dehumanization, to feel like a stray dog beneath every one of your peers and family members, desperate for love and acceptance by just one person to find the only way would be a noose. I could tell you how much it causes you to disconnect yourself, to view yourself as something other than human, to view human's as a violent hateful creature, breeding, spreading, and trading violence like a disease. How it would be utterly repulsive to be like them. So narrow minded, so unwilling to accept someone for such minor differences.

I didn't know what transgender meant or was until 8th grade. In 4th, I got access to the Internet for the first time, with it, I made my first representation of myself no one in my physical life could interfere with. I forget the name I went by, but I was thought to be a boy by everyone online who spoke to me. I kept it that way, even once they got to know me, it was right. In my younger years, I had no friends, never did I have a kindergarten or elementary best friend, I didn't know it was normal to sit with a group of friends until I read Harry Potter in middle school. Ha, and never did I ever have that group of friends to sit with. I was a loner to the most extreme example of that term, none of it was by choice. I even dropped out of high school and graduated in an alternative way because I couldn't stand being friend to no one, enemy to more than necessary for never speaking. Before that, at during lunch and "recess," I sat between the wall to the staff bathroom and a large paper rack that sat in the hallway, I did this until I aged out of that building. With dropping out, I did it immediately after coming out as trans and finding that suddenly, all my peers felt more justified taking licks at me. No one person respected it at the time, and I got kicked already for coming out as trans months prior and a bunch of drama because of that (mistake #1 never come out to your family first). I was an optimistic child. I was an extroverted child, excited and enthusiastic about the world. I was kind to all. Then I met the world and saw no one like me in it.

Also, another thing, a lot of transfems and transmascs have fatal rates of anorexia or restrictive eating(asides the inherent body issues that come with it), both in attempts to pass as their gender and, my speculation and projection, self punishment. I was well below 100 pounds for years, and I'm a tall guy.

I laugh in the face of transphobes, I don't think they could survive.

My AM like monolog/vent overrrits.

Almost

Sometimes I wonder, if when I first came if I had acceptance, what would have been different with acceptance from even some of the family? The reason I came out to my family is I needed to socially transition with family and peers IRL before the doctors wanted discuss it further with me as a minor, they still didn't allow me when I was 18 and out for years so it was more than that but alas. If I didn't get kicked out, I wonder what it would have been like to start transitioning younger, to switch to a different school and have a chance at a second life not so jaded, with "my"/a family. I'm still alone, I think I might always be, I'm starting to be okay with that.

Oh, also for everyone thinking blue states are institutionally good and positive places for queers to live, welcome to rural Washington, where the concept of a butch- or even masculine women would be enough to make heads explode, least where I'm from they may as well as be Idaho legislators in terms of values.

[sprite-writes-fanfic]

When the ‘03 Turtles are in love!

🐢💙❤️2003 TMNT x Reader💜🧡🐢

Word Count: 889

CW: Gender-neutral reader as always, referred to as ‘you’, my underrated beloveds ong, (especially Donnie 💜), nothing but fluff! Turtles realizing they’re in love with you and how they act around you!! (+ confessions because yes <3)

🐢💙Leonardo💙🐢

💙 With Leo, it takes him a good while to realize he’s in love with you. It just randomly hits him when he’s meditating, the comfort you bring, the way he can lean on you, the way he’s always seemingly drawn to you! It hits him like a bus.

💙 He gets a little shy and distant with you, but don’t give up! Continue coming to him and acting like yourself, he’ll feel a bit guilty for avoiding you, but you still coming to him makes his heart flips and he’s feeling those butterflies.

💙 That’s when Leo can’t take it anymore and finally confides in Master Splinter, (which we both know that man knows when his sons are in love). Splinter is pleasantly surprised! But he’s happy to help his son sort out his feelings and even devise ways to confess to you.

💙 Finally, Leo works up the courage and asks you to go to the training dojo with him alone, to train. You two do train and by the end of it, Leo finally spills it, confessing his love to you, but also expressing his understanding if you didn’t feel the same.

💙 Pleasantly surprised when you admit to feeling the same way! Man is fist-pumping the air mentally when you confess. After that, you two spent more time together in the dojo, just talking things out and making it official with a hug, (a kiss will come later, Leo’s not ready to make that quick of a step!)

🐢❤️Raphael❤️🐢

❤️ With this emotional turtle, Raph is quick to realize, unlike his brothers, and at first; he’s frustrated. He didn’t NEED feelings, especially not towards a family friend, a human… A very beautiful human at that—

❤️ Okay, he gives up and comes to terms with the fact, Raph, the tough guy with anger issues, has soft feelings for YOU. (Bro went through the 5 stages of grief because of this/j)

❤️ And after coming to that conclusion, man is always trying to impress you, he gets closer to you, wants you to depend on him because he wants to be that someone for you! It strokes his ego quite a bit too.

❤️ It’s when he finally realizes he wants to be with you he shoots his shot. What’s the worst they could say? No? So, one night when you join him on patrol and you two are chilling on a roof, he finally confesses. And he’s straight to the point like, “Look uh, this is gonna sound weird, but I have feelings for you.”

❤️ Dude is so hyped when you say you feel the same way too. Raph isn’t the type to wait around either like Leo, on that rooftop was where you two shared (his) your first kiss.

🐢💜Donatello💜🐢

💜 When Donnie realizes, he panics a little actually. YOU are his best friend, and he’s completely shocked when he realizes that his heart thunders in his chest and his palms get sweaty when YOU are around, (*slow fade-in of the demi-romantic flag*).

💜 He tries to shut down these feelings as best as he can by working on his technology more and being distant with everyone, and I mean EVERYONE.

💜 Even then he can’t stay away for too long, he’s back to ranting and rambling about his inventions to you, and his breath hitches whenever you smile at and tell him, “Go on”, whenever he pauses and apologizes for rambling again.

💜 Donnie has to tell you, if he gets rejected now, hopefully these feelings will go away, right? He didn’t even consider the fact that you could possibly like him back, according to his statistics, the likelihood of a mutant and a human together is low!

💜 Well, when he sat you down for a serious conversation, going on to admit his feelings and saying he wouldn’t be hurt if you said no— Wait what? You were quick to interrupt him and tell him you liked him back?? He had to process a moment before he would shyly ask if you wanted to go for a small ride in the Battle Shell around town. (You two held hands while he drove. <3)

🐢🧡Michelangelo🧡🐢

🧡 Woof, Mikey on the other hand is a bit of a wild card, at first he confuses platonic with romance, but when his brothers point out to him the obvious, he’s all for it!

🧡 Mikey is the type to start reading comics and watch movies that involve romance so he has an idea of what to do, (and yes, he kicks his feet all giddy-like when he’s doing this).

🧡 After he’s obtained his knowledge, he’s quick to try and impress you and reenact some moments from the movies he’s watched, always saying quotes you probably wouldn’t understand. And when you don’t get it at first, thinking he’s just being Mikey, he’s a little bummed…

🧡 Then Raph has to point it out to him why his advances aren’t working, because he’s not really acting any different, and just tells Mikey to grow a pair and to tell you honestly. And that’s when Mikey’s new plan is sent into action, operation confession is a go!

🧡 Still a little confusing because he’s still making references but he’s got the spirit. Eventually he ends up forgetting the movie references and out-right tells you. And it’s safe to say, you guys have a roof-top date coming up here soon.

Gaaah, I’ve been obsessing over TMNT good lord. I wanted to write about them, and I’ll probably write more about them too 😭💙 Love turtle pookies ong, hope you enjoyed, and yes I posted the same day, I am motivated to write. ✍️

[itsabouttimex2]

How Can We Use Y/N?

So I’ve been watching Delicious in Dungeon, and… thinking about Beastman!Y/N. Or, rather- how the party consumes them.

Maybe outright eating them is off-limits, because, you know, Y/N is still a person, and cannibalism tends to bring about some pretty nasty stuff. Marcille is hard on that stance. She’s opened up to a lot of different foods, sure, that’s true- but she’s not eating a person! The potential for diseases and sickness is too high, no matter how you prepare the food, after all.

But eating isn’t the only way for someone or something to be consumed! Time is consumed! Energy is consumed! Labor is consumed! Products are consumed!

So what can we make out of Y/N?

Maybe you’ve been fused with the soul of something like a Firefly Squid, shifting your flesh to bear a pleasing bioluminescence- and if sometimes a tentacle falls off or is chopped clean in combat? Well, Laios doesn’t really see the issue in skinning the rubbery tendril to make glow-in-the-dark hilt wraps and canteens… even if his friends think that it’s a little gross.

Or maybe you’re some form of Cervidae, bearing a soft, short pelt and a pair of antlers to boot, which means… you’ll end up shedding at the end of the year, and the team now has a fresh set to utilize! The keratin is good for carving, especially if you’re making arrowheads or figurines. If nothing creative comes to mind, they’re at least good for trading to orcs or kobolds.

But I’d like to think that you’re a cute little Valais Blacknose, who hasn’t quite learned to trim your own fur, so it’s up to the Touden Party to take up the shears and chop those woolen locks! Chilchuck is a little estranged from his family, admittedly, but he’s still a father of three, and has learned a bit about haircare in the process. Expect lots of reminders to “hold still, dammit!” and maybe a few “oh, shit”s along the way, but the Half-Foot will get you fixed up.

Once he’s trimmed you into a presentably adorable little lamb, it’s finally possible to walk around without tripping over your own fluff, and see without a collage of thick headbands pinned in place to hold back a storm of woolen locks… and the team is left with several pounds of fluffy wool.

And team Touden does not waste resources- especially if those supplies are coming from their precious little Y/N!

So the team scrambles to find a way to use all of the floof, each one taking a portion to use in some way, at least.

Laios knows that winding his cooking ware with spun wool will only make them harder to clean, especially if blood or fat soak into the threads, and he really doesn’t want to waste such a soft part of his dear Y/N by having to throw them out over something like a minor spill… which also rules out his sword’s grip, because, again, wool holds nasty fluids really well. Probably he’ll settle for something extremely practical that can be used many times over, like a pair of socks or gloves. It’s not impossible for the monster enthusiast to keep a handful of unprocessed fluff in his pocket, just so he has something to grab and squish during stressful or boring trips… or so he can “prove” to nearby parties/“friends” how soft you are. (Shuro and Kabru are on the receiving end of more than a few rants.)

Ever practical, Senshi probably makes cheesecloth from your threads, albeit over the course of several days spent knitting the yarn together. If he doesn’t have that sort of time, or maybe just not the motivation, he’ll bind himself up a washcloth or two- perfect for sopping up cooking spills, or scrubbing the inside of a pan. And, now that you can actually see without constantly peeling pounds of fluff from your eyes, expect to given more tasks during cooking. Anything to keep you close and safe. It’s also very probable that he’ll have you on a “Beastman-friendly” diet comprised heavily of leafy meals and chopped veggies. Maybe he’ll even scrounge up some hay, or cut and bind up some grass to have on hand for you as a snack. He won’t even consider this strange- to Senshi, it’s just the proper way to take care of someone that he obsesses over the safety of cares for.

Happy to have “monster” supplies that she doesn’t have to eat, Marcille binds a few of the finer threads into a set of little ribbon for her hair. I also imagine that she’d be primarily responsible for taking caring if your hair after the cut, so she’ll make a few extra in order to style yours like she styles hers. If there’s plenty extra when everyone else is done taking their share, the elf girl just might make herself a little plushy version of you to sleep with… and one of Falin, too.

Divorced father of three, deft of hand Chilchuck has learned his way around a needle… mostly. It’s not above him to maybe weave something nice up for his daughters, like matching bracelets. He’ll want six in total, one for him and his ex, three for his daughters, and one for you- just so everyone in the “family” has a common thread to bind them. A particularly young Y/N will most likely be adopted by the Tims family at the end of their journey, providing a safe and happy (if viciously protective and smothering) space for them to grow. His daughters receive letters every now and then, each one waiting anxiously to meet the individual who is; unbeknownst to them, being propositioned as a brand new family member. Even his ex is mildly excited at the thought of someone brand new to raise, given that all her daughters are grown and moving on in the world. Maybe it’s what they need to get back together… or maybe that’s just the possessiveness talking.

And for Izutsumi… she wants a new scarf. Not that she knows how to knit, or has any interest in learning, but still. The cat girl will scrounge up a hefty handful of wool and toss it into Marcille’s lap with a huff, demanding a properly knit scarf to add to her arsenal. And although she’s not exactly above whining or making threats to get her way, there’s no need- the mage is totally on board to have every member of the party decked out in the softest parts of their collective favorite member. So, Izutsumi gets her scarf, and then everyone finally has a part of Y/N to keep close and hold dear.

Not that anyone is going to start ignoring the real thing, unfortunately for you.

[trailmix-silent]

"Millie cheated!" - why it's wrong and kinda misogynistic

I started writing this not long after the season finale, but I only finished it now. I'm sure many people have already voiced similar opinions on Millie's pregnancy reaction, but whatever. I wanted to rant about it too.

So I mainly want to address a theory that appeared soon after Sinsmas aired, and it seems many people believe in it. Many seem to think Millie cheated on Moxxie, which is why she seemed so distressed when she found out she's pregnant. I think that's pretty much the only argument behind that theory, but correct me if I'm wrong.

Honestly, not only do I not believe in this theory, but I think it's kinda ridiculous.

As we've seen throughout the show, Millie clearly loves Moxxie. As of now, they've only been married for a little over a year, and they still seem to be in the lovey-dovey phase. They flirt, compliment each other, and are just really wholesome together. Not only that, but Millie has put her life on the line numerous times to save Moxxie. From fighting a giant fish monster, to breaking into a human government facility, to single-handedly eliminating most of a mafia family. Moxxie has also saved her multiple times, like in Murder Family. It seems like there's nothing they wouldn't do for each other.

Additionally, there doesn't seem to be any issues in the bedroom. We all know Millie happily pegs Moxxie on the reg. They've also flirted in a not-so-innocent way. And let's not forget the whole spinning-and-shooting-while-making-out thing they did in C.H.E.R.U.B.

And if that wasn't enough, she has shown no interest in other potential partners. Like, anytime someone flirts with her, she either looks disgusted, or straight-up kicks them across the room.

All this to say, Millie seems to be pretty happy in her marriage, and doesn't crave any outside affection. I can't think of any reason as to why she would cheat on Moxxie. With this in mind, what other reasons could there be behind her negative reaction to her pregnancy? I have a few suggestions:

First, the pregnancy could be unplanned. Actually, that's most likely the case. Because believe it or not, a woman's natural reaction to an unplanned pregnancy is usually not to leap of joy.

Second, she could be nervous about Moxxie's reaction when he finds out. Obviously he's not gonna be mad or aggressive, I think Millie knows that. But it's possible that they haven't even discussed having children yet, so she has no idea if he'll be happy or upset. Or, on the contrary, maybe Moxxie has said he doesn't want kids. Given his severe daddy issues, he may not want to be a father himself. Whatever the case may be, an unexpected pregnancy can damage even the happiest of marriages.

Third, financial issues. IMP is a very small company, and we've seen that all the employees are struggling to pay the bills. The most recent example would be Blitzø and Stolas stealing clothes from a store. We've also seen M&M's apartment building, which looks old and run-down. Under such circumstances, taking care of and providing for a baby is not ideal.

Fourth, the dangerous conditions of their work. Both Millie and Moxxie travel to the human world to assassin people for a living. Many times, they have ended up in dire and even life-threatening situations. What if one day, one of them won't return home? I can't see them both quitting, since they seem pretty happy with their profession, and being unemployed wouldn't exactly improve their finances.

Finally, and this may sound crazy, but what if Millie just...doesn't want kids? Like, at all? That's also a very real possibility.

So, with all of this in mind, why do so many immediately accuse Millie of cheating? I'm no expert, but I think these accusations stem from some classic TV drama tropes. According to tvtropes.org, surprise pregnancies can result from a fling, an affair, a long-term relationship, or through supernatural influence. We can rule out the fling, and probably also supernatural means. So the father is either Moxxie, or an affair partner.

Cheating is a very common theme in TV shows and movies. It adds drama and conflict, which makes a plot more exciting. So I suppose it's not completely strange that some believe this is the case with Millie. Though, I believe there's more to it. I actually think this could be a case of unrealistic gender norms (just hear me out).

For much of history, women have been expected and even pressured to bear children. That has created a distorted image of what women want, that still persists today. Surely you've heard or seen someone online talking about how "all women deep down want children" or "women can only be happy as mothers". At times, this can bleed into the media we consume. How many times have you really seen a happy childless couple in a TV show? As a contrast, how many times have you seen a woman be unhappy, then she gets a child, and suddenly all her sadness is gone? Or the classic childless career woman, who's bitter and angry all the time? You get it.

Media often portrays motherhood as the happy ending for all women, which is just inaccurate, especially in modern times. More and more women are choosing not to have kids for various reasons. They live happy, fulfilled lives. It seems that this shift in society is slowly being recognized by writers and portrayed properly, which is great. However, those outdated expectations are still present.

Going back to Millie, if we look at her life, it seems that so far, she's walking the path that many women in stories have walked before. She met a good man, fell in love with him, and married him. Now they're a young happy couple who's been married for just over a year. Now there's only one thing left: children.

For a viewer who's used to this classic story, to the point where they expect it, it's not surprising that they are suspicious over Millie's reaction. On the surface, it seems she has no reason to be upset over being pregnant with her loving husband's child. Thus, by that logic: she must have cheated.

I don't really have anything else to say, so I'll wrap this up. To summarize: Millie is not a cheater, she has plenty of valid reasons to react they way she did, all women are different, and media has lied to you.

If you agree, disagree, or just wanna add something else, feel free to comment your thoughts! I'm curious about what other people think. Just...y'know...don't be a dick.

Have one last cute M&M pic:

[lisired]

keep on

pairing: johnny x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, angst, non-idol au, fwb!johnny, alcohol consumption, mentions of addiction/alcoholicism, daddy issues, mommy issues, unprotexted sex (dont b silly wrap ur willy!)

summary: All things love and commitment are feared upon by you. You keep a tight crew and let few people in, cynical of other’s intentions and leaving a trail of broken hearts in your wake. If you break other people’s hearts first, they can’t break yours. And yet, it was all too easy falling for Johnny, digging yourself into a depthless hole of love. But he is no exception to your heartache games.

word count: 13.6k

a/n: this was a pretty quick write. inspired by keep on by kehlani, garden (say it like dat) by sza and off the table by ariana grande featuring the weeknd. have fun reading <3 feedback is appreciated!

Through the blurry lenses of your eyes, love was a synonym for heartbreak.

It happened everyday. People gave people their all and in return, they received nothing but brutal agony. You had seen it happen and experienced the heartache firsthand.

Like when your father left your mother. And thus, the baby they had brought into this world together. It stung like nothing else to watch what became of your mother, drowning her sorrows in liquor. She was never the same.

Perhaps she had passed her bad habits down to you. The apple never falls far from the tree, they say.

Irene’s house was your deemed safe haven for the night. It was Friday and you were having a girl’s night out, but given the gruesome work week everyone had, no one wanted to truly go out.

You strutted inside and collapsed against her island, dropping your purse on the surface. “Get me drunk,” you sighed, tired beyond imagination. Not to mention the text message creeping in your mind.

Yeri giggled and slid you a glass. She had already been drinking, you could tell. She got all bubbly when tipsy. She reached for a bottle, and said, “Irene’s getting the good shit. She’ll be right back.”

They got the bottles and poured the glasses. When they were empty, you didn’t hesitate to fill them up again. There was no doubt that the next morning would bring you a terrible hangover, though you wanted to drink like there was no tomorrow.

You wanted to forget everything. Forget men. Forget the way that they all hurt you. Fuck that, you didn’t even want to remember what hurt was or meant.

They were nothing but trouble.

As the hours ticked by, less and less of your sullenness was masked by your inebriety. It became evident that there was something plaguing your mind. You sat slumped on the couch, bitter.

Irene sat beside you when the coast was clear. The girls had either passed out or gone back home if they were sober enough. But you were seated on her sofa, reeking of depression.

“We can always talk about it, you know,” Irene said softly. She grabbed your hand and let you rest your head on her lap. “It might make you feel better to open up.”

You shook your head and quipped dryly, “And ruin your perfect girl’s night? I thought the point was to de-stress.”

Irene gave you a faint smile and patted your head gently. She was one of the few people who knew the extent of trauma you dealt with. Your every secret was kept under lock and key but she protected them with her whole heart. Irene cared for you, that was undeniable. All things considered, she was like a mother to you. But you depended on no one but yourself and you hated seeming weak. Even if you were.

Besides, there was a time and a place, and this was neither. Ranting about your daddy issues wasn’t the point of tonight. It was to clear your head. Nothing good came out of recalling the irreversible damage your father had inflicted upon your broken family.

I’m sorry. Let me make things right, the text you received read. It made you feel a fusion of emotion - anger, sadness, confusion, disgust. What he did, upping and leaving, was unforgivable. It was a sin.

He broke your family. There was nothing he could do or say to make things right, to mend the shattered pieces. If he wanted to leave then he should have stayed gone. He had no right to try to come and intrude years later. He didn’t get to pick and choose when he could be in your life.

Irene was firm when she told you, “I’m here for you whenever you need me. I know you like to think that you don’t need anyone, that opening up makes you vulnerable, but being vulnerable is okay. I’m not going to attack you for being human and having the feelings you push away.”

Right in the heart - that was where her words always hit you. Irene had a habit of always being right, even if the truth hurt. Even if you desperately wanted her to be wrong. And yet, she never was.

But your lips were sealed. It was too much. Irene could try and soothe you, but even she couldn’t always break you. She sighed, but had another solution.

Irene lifted your head off of her lap and stood, rummaging for her keys. You stared at her with confusion. “What are you doing?”

“I’m taking you to Johnny’s. No buts. If there’s anyone that can get you to open up, it’s him, and the very last thing that you need to be in this state is alone.”

Your eyes flickered with shock. It wouldn’t be the first time that a drunk you had been dropped off at his doorstep - and it more than likely wouldn’t be the last - but you always woke up penitent the next day.

Johnny didn’t deserve that. He deserved better than you.

“But…”

“Ah, ah, ah - I said no ‘but’s,” Irene wielded her dismissive weapon of a finger. Her motherly instincts were kicking in and it meant that her decision was final. “Let’s go.”

With no other option, you followed Irene to her car with a slight stumble in your walk. Given they lived in the same neighborhood, you were at Johnny’s place in a blink. For some reason, you felt nervous. That was how you always felt around Johnny, even if you knew deep down that you had nothing to worry about.

He keeps on taking me in, you thought somberly. He’s nice to me. Even when I don’t deserve it. And I don’t know why.

If you were sober, you might have felt more guilty. Scratch that, you would have felt like nothing short of a villain. And maybe you were. Maybe you were the bad guy, the wolf dressed in sheep’s clothing.

But that was because you couldn’t help but think everyone else was out to get you. Whatever much excuse you could bring yourself to give.

Irene walked you up to Johnny’s doorstep and rang the doorbell. It was late at night and Johnny liked his rest, but he was wide awake when he came to answer the door. And his entire expression changed when his eyes fell on you.

Johnny had seen you too many times too many in this state and just enough to know when you had spent the past few hours maintaining your friendship with alcohol. It was much more effort than you were putting into yours.

Irene squeaked in her soft voice, “Hi.”

He looked stone cold. It made your stomach twist, just a little. Although you knew Johnny was the warmest person there was. He stifled a sigh and said, “Come on, y/n.”

You shuffled right past him and through the doorway. By now it was routine, yet Johnny thought he would never get used to seeing you this way. He tried to help you, tried to get you to break out of your bad habits. And you were genuinely improving. For you to relapse out of the blue meant that you had been triggered.

When the coast was clear, Johnny shot Irene a glare, and snapped, “Why would you let this happen?”

Irene kept a straight face and took his harsh words in stride. If Johnny lashed out at her, she understood. It wasn’t easy dealing with you, loving you, and she could only imagine what it was like to be in love with you. “I know you’re stressed, but don’t antagonize me for her actions, Johnny. I can’t control what she does.”

“No, but you can enable her. And that’s exactly what you do,” Johnny barked.

“She’s one of my closest friends!” Irene shouted, tears brimming in her eyes. “I would never do anything to hurt her. All I want to do is help her. I’ve been trying. Trust me. I’ve been trying so hard, Johnny. But you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to help themselves.”

Irene never cried. Much less in front of men. She was too busy being strong for everyone else to let herself be weak. She deserved to lash out, too. Being the calm friend, the responsible one, was hard. And she felt like she only got closer and closer to losing you everyday.

Johnny simmered down once he realized that she was right. All of this was unwarranted. He knew that doing this for you over and over again was only hurting the both of you, and everyone you loved, but he loved you too goddamn much to let you go.

It was frustrating. It made him angry - loving you. Being in love with you. Hearing his heart call out your name. And watching you use him just to dispose of him when you were done like he was some replaceable toy. What made him even more upset was that you were showing progress, and he thought that maybe something good could finally come out of it. Now he had to watch it all go down the drain.

Johnny rubbed his temple and sighed out, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Irene took a deep breath and exhaled. Johnny knew it wasn’t like her to lose her sense like that, but as long as you were hurting, so was she. “Just take care of her. Please. That’s all I ask.”

Johnny gave a nod of head and turned around. He was about to go inside and check up on you when he heard Irene call his name again.

“Please be patient with her. She’s trying.”

She loves you. Irene didn’t say it, but it was clear as day. Written all over her face, swimming in her dark eyes.

He nodded again, more reluctant this time, then pushed his door open and came inside the house. Glancing around, he didn’t spot you nearby. He called out your name, and when you responded, the sound of your voice led him upstairs to his bedroom.

You were now wearing one of his t-shirts, but it looked more like it was wearing you. Things had been like that since you were in high school. He towered over you with the skies above and yet he was filled of nothing but adoration. The memories of you wearing his clothes almost made him break into a smile. Almost.

Instead, Johnny sat down beside you and said, “Are you gonna tell me what happened now or in the morning?”

You frowned. People always wanted to talk, as if talking would make all your problems magically disappear. All you wanted to do was forget that they existed for as long as you could.

Without saying a word, you unlocked your phone, went to your messages, and handed it to him. Johnny gave you a confused glance, but read the text nonetheless. It was from an unsaved number, but the contents of the message gave away everything he needed to know. Clearly, it was from no one other than your father.

“Shit,” Johnny said, more to himself than anything else.

You pushed your knees to your chest and wrapped your arms around your legs. “Yeah. Apparently he wants to make up for leaving his daughter and her mother when she was a toddler and driving the woman he used to love into substance abuse. Funny, right?”

Johnny sighed. No wonder you were beginning to sink back into your old ways. This was a trigger and you knew nothing else.

“How’d he even get your number?”

“My mother’s rash decisions or my cousin’s spite for me, who knows,” you shrugged, chuckling. Family reunions weren’t your favorite. At some point of becoming fed up with your family fiascos, you stopped attending. There was no way that you would see your evil cousin, your old-fashioned grandparents, aunts, and uncles, or even your mother. The only thing she and you shared was resent for your father, but you weren’t sure what she was capable of when drunk.

Johnny frowned. As much as it hurt to see you like this, he understood why you reacted the way you did. He was your best friend and your lover and knew you better than you knew yourself. He knew every bit of your trauma, down to the rawest detail - your childhood, all of the boys you once loved that weren’t him.

Part of him wished that you had given your heart to him first. He would have guarded it with a sword and fought off dragons for you. Instead, the boys you trusted handled it carelessly and shattered it into pieces. Now it was much harder to salvage what was left of it.

Johnny pulled you into his arms. He was angry. Angry at your father, angry at the world, even angry at you. But he wanted to be there for you, even if you took advantage of his kindness. When you felt his hands around you, you wept into his shoulder. He smoothed the palm of his hand against your back, and whispered soothingly into your ear, “It’s okay. Let it all out.”

You wept and wept, until you had no tears left to cry. God, you hated crying in front of other people. You hated being vulnerable, but it came naturally when you were with Johnny. Ever since you became friends in high school. And though Johnny never made a move to hurt you, he could have. That was the part you hated. Being vulnerable to someone meant trusting them not to hurt you the way everyone else had.

When you were done, you pulled away and noticed the damp patch on Johnny’s shirt. “Sorry,” you croaked.

“Shirts can dry,” he reminded, and lifted it above his head. “Let’s go to bed. You can talk to me in the morning when you’re sober.”

You nodded, then climbed into bed with him. To say that you hadn’t been in this position before would have been a lie, but you liked being so close to Johnny. He was your refuge from the world that liked to throw knives at you. And when you bled, he was always there to tend to your bloody scars. He made you feel safe, and that scared you more than anything.

Johnny kissed your forehead. “Goodnight.”

Heat flared in your cheeks. Safe didn’t even scratch the surface of how Johnny made you feel, but it would have to for now. You weren’t ready to unpack your feelings for Johnny. You weren’t ready to confront them.

“Goodnight, Johnny.”

Even in the dark, you saw Johnny smile. And beneath it he hid the storms of emotion induced by you that were killing him softly.

Between the pain of knowing Johnny was hurting because of you and the pain of your hangover, you couldn’t tell what hurt more.

It was a well-practiced routine. You woke up with a splitting headache, a bottle of water and Aspirin waiting for you on his bedside, and sometimes Johnny would be tucked into the sheets next to you. When he wasn’t, he was downstairs making breakfast.

And when you woke up, taking in your surroundings and realizing they were nothing like your bedroom, the regret settled in. You’re so fucking selfish, you chastised to yourself. Johnny was in love with you. That was positively the only reason he put up with your bullshit, but he deserved better.

And you were trying to give him better, to be the one that he needed. Given your habits of sleeping around to ignore the weight tugging at your chest when you thought of Johnny and drinking away your problems, you were trying to stop. Instead of drinking, you ranted to Irene or Johnny. Instead of finding someone to toy with for a night, you tried to be a good friend to Johnny.

It worked. Even the rest of your friends caught on to how much better and healthier you seemed. Then, your dad sent that stupid text and your whole world went crashing down. You didn’t know what to do. You were torn. Ripped and shredded to fucking pieces.

Maybe it was time Johnny accepted that he deserved someone better than you. For his own sake. You were a tainter that ruined everything you touched and rotted it to the core.

You popped the Aspirin and came downstairs. Johnny wasn’t there when you woke up, but judging from the delicious scent wafting through the air, he was downstairs cooking.

“Morning,” you whispered, sitting at the island.

Johnny shot you a glance over his shoulder and tended back to the stove. He was making pancakes. “If it isn’t Sleeping Beauty.”

You blushed and tried to hide it, asking coyly, “Momma’s recipe?”

“You know it.”

That made you crack a soft smile. He was right - you did know. Part of you envied the relationship Johnny had with his parents: strong and healthy. That would never be you. You didn’t remember the last time you spoke to your mother and your father was self-explanatory.

You shook your head, and hopefully the thought away. It was too early. Instead, you focused on Johnny. He was still half-naked, and you caught yourself gazing at the details of his bare back. Damn, did he look good.

Then, you watched him cook, subconsciously trailing off into your own head again. I don’t deserve him. He went above and beyond for you, from making you breakfast to even letting you inside in the first place. He held you and listened to your rants and tried his best to aid you, but you threw that all away. And yet, here he was.

When Johnny was finished cooking, he fixed you both plates and sat across from you. Apart from giving him your gratitude, the two of you ate in silence. After a while, he commented, “I thought you weren’t drinking anymore.”

You stared at your plate, refusing to look Johnny in his eyes. That would kill you - seeing the pain submerged in his eyes staring back in you. It was obvious that you didn’t want to have this conversation, preferring to leave words left unsaid. What you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you.

Maybe you already knew and you were trying your hardest to ignore it.

“Old habits die hard,” you murmured, fiddling with your knife and fork.

Your relationship with alcohol was typical. Although you weren’t addicted, it was still unhealthy. For the most part, when you drank, it was to forget about the feelings and thoughts plaguing your heart and mind. Escapism was your go-to coping mechanism. You weren’t strong enough to confront your problems head-on.

“You can’t keep doing this.” We can’t keep doing this.

“I know.”

Johnny sighed. “What’s on your mind?”

You bit your lip. Of course, Johnny could tell when there was something troubling you. There was no hiding from him. He was the only one capable of coaxing you of an answer.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shown up here unannounced expecting you to take care of me.” Just like you always do.

Johnny was quick. “It wasn’t unannounced. Irene texted me.”

“That’s not the point and you know it,” you said, finally looking up at him. The expression he sported was grim. It hurt to see the way he looked at you, but you knew that you didn’t deserve his beautiful smile. 

He sighed and glanced off, almost looking offended. “Then, what is your point?”

You shook your head. You weren’t ready to have this conversation and you doubted that you ever would be. “Forget it.”

“No. Talk to me. I just hate when you freeze me out,” Johnny urged swiftly. He hated it more than anything else. All he wanted was your love, but he was quick to realize that it was hard to thaw your frozen heart out.

Eyes drifting back to your plate, you shook your head and whispered, “I didn’t know what else to do.”

Johnny softened up. For fucks sake, you were impossible, but he had too much sympathy for you. He understood why you acted the way you did, even if that didn’t ease the pain or validate your behavior. Most of all, he didn’t want you to follow your mother’s footsteps and become the person you swore you’d never be.

Last night hurt him, too. Patient was all he had ever been with you. He had been patient with you for at least ten years. He was so sick of waiting, but it was safe to say that no matter what, you would be his first and last love.

When the room got quiet, you spoke up again in a little voice, “He texted me Thursday night. I still haven’t responded. I don’t know what to do anymore, Johnny.”

“Do what you wanna do,” he told you, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s up to you. You don’t have to forgive him. You don’t even gotta respond. What he did was fucked up and he shouldn’t expect you to give in easily. But whatever you choose to do, your first priority should be letting go.”

Letting go. Easier said than done. All your life, letting go had never been your forte. Part of you was still scarred by your past lovers. Grudges ruined your life.

There were reasons why you came out this way. Of course, part of it stemmed from your childhood, though not everything and your identity was intricately layered.

In high school, you fell for Lee Jeno. He was the sweetest boy that you’d ever met - or at least you thought he was - and he almost instantly swept you off your feet. Jeno had all the girls swooning and the fact that he chose you made you feel a special type of bliss. Until you found him making out with a cheerleader in the locker room.

Then, in college, you decided to give romance a second try. It was Osaki Shotaro’s turn to break your heart. You remembered like it was yesterday and it was all so sudden. Out of the blue, Shotaro broke up with you and told you that he wasn’t in love with you anymore. He left you for another woman. You couldn’t imagine how many times he had been with her all while being with you. It made you sick to your stomach.

After that, you were scarred for life, scared shitless of love. Boys proved time and time again without fail that their only intention was to treat your fragile heart like dirt on the bottom of their shoes. They walked all over it, taking advantage of your blind love. Fed you lies and empty promises of forever.

That was why you kept your heart guarded and under lock and key. You intentionally kept your relationships short and discardable - no strings attached. You didn’t want to trust anyone else with your heart. They threw it in the middle of a busy highway and now it was in traffic.

Trust issues, they called it. Issues - that was your forte. And you had a variety. Trust issues, abandonment issues, daddy issues, commitment issues. Whatever the label slapped on them, they all controlled every moment of your life.

Johnny added, “I know that’s easier said than done, but promise me you’ll try. Will you?”

You nodded your head and fought back tears. Weak was the word you used to describe yourself in your head. It was far too easy to break you. “I’ll try, I promise. But I don’t know if I can do it.”

“I believe in you,” Johnny whispered, voice soft yet powerful. You were convinced that he had too much faith in you. Never had anyone believed in you this much. Never had anyone loved you the way that Johnny did and you didn’t know how to accept it.

Your heart was at constant war, unable to choose between two stances. Johnny wasn’t like the other men once in your life. Or maybe he was, yet hid it well. Maybe he was waiting for you to trust him to break your heart.

Both of you finished eating and changed the subject. It was a relief. Johnny hated making things awkward and you were grateful for that.

After a while, Johnny drove you back home. You hated leaving and Johnny hated watching you go, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t used to this cycle. You stood at your doorstep and said, “Thanks for breakfast.”

Johnny nodded. “Any time. When will I see you again?”

He liked seeing you. Just not after a long night of you disregarding your troubles with sex and alcohol.

“My schedule’s packed Monday through Friday, but maybe one of those nights,” you said. Often you found yourself making time for Johnny when there was none. And in return, he did the same. He showed you a good time and to your definition, that meant a night of relieving pent up stress. “If not, I’ll see you this weekend.”

“Okay,” Johnny nodded again. “Later, alligator.”

Before he could leave, you leaned on the tip of your toes and smashed your lips against his. Johnny seemed genuinely caught off-guard, but he wasted no time in kissing you back, stealing your every last breath like there was no tomorrow. You liked kissing Johnny. Apart from the warm feeling boiling in your chest whenever he pressed his lips to yours, he was just so damn good at making you feel like you were on a cloud.

You pulled back and caught your breath, smiling. “After a while, crocodile.”

Johnny grinned and walked back to his car.

You didn’t see Johnny again until the following weekend.

Not that you didn’t speak. You and Johnny were inseparable and spoke everyday if you could, via texting or phone calls when there was no chance of seeing each other in person. You told him that you needed time to yourself and he both respected and encouraged your decision.

You were busy thinking - an upside of Johnny’s influence. Most of the time you hated being in your head and avoided it at all costs. It was a dangerous place to be, but you were trying harder to not disappoint him once more.

In that time, your father sent you another message. He wanted to meet up with you and was unyielding. The ball was in your court. You could agree to hear him out or you could block his number and pretend it never happened, but it was no easy decision.

Saturday approached far too leisurely. Uneventful days of work and pondering led to the date of your friends’ betrothal party.

With a very Yuta-esque spin to it. The event was casual through and through. The dress code was loose and neither party held good relationships with their family, meaning most of the guests were close friends. It was a pool party and everyone would be in the backyard.

When you caught up to Yuta and Winwin, you didn’t hesitate to ask, “Okay, I’ll bite. Who did it? Who popped the question?”

Yuta fought a smirk and shrugged blithely. “Guess.”

“Winwin?”

Winwin shook his head. “Nope. Contrary to popular belief, Yuta’s quite the romantic. In his own way, of course. He even crouched down on one knee.”

It was somewhat believable. The Yuta from before he met Winwin wasn’t the Yuta that stood before you now. He had seen the light and became a man of all things love and cheesy.

Still, you teased, “No way. Can’t believe the main hoe of the town is settling down. What happened to being non-monogamous buddies?”

“Shit changes,” Yuta said, sighing blissfully as he wrapped an arm around Winwin. Then, he teased back, “Besides, we both know it was either me and Winwin or you and Johnny next in fate’s line.”

You blushed and spluttered, “Where’d you get that idea from?”

Both boys laughed like you had told the funniest joke. You narrowed your eyes, and Winwin answered for his future husband, “I know I’m the latest addition to the gang and all, but even I can see the sparks between you and Johnny. There’s obviously something there. I don’t know why you haven’t acted on it.”

Yuta exchanged knowing glances with you. He probably understood you the best out of everyone present. Your life’s weren’t carbon copy’s of each other, but he had lived the closest thing to your trauma. You weren’t ready. For a while, neither was he, but if he could let go and move on, maybe so you could you.

“There’s been sparks since motherfucking junior high. It’s always been a given that you two like each other and you’ll get together one day in the future. I couldn’t see it any other way,” Yuta said.

That should have made you feel happy, but all you could feel was dread and regret fused with yearning. All of your friends could see you together, but you weren’t sure if you could give him that. How selfish of you to be the one holding the two of you back.

You should have told him to move on and let you go. Instead, you avoided confrontation for as long as possible, craving every moment of his love and attention until the flame went out. You didn’t want to give him all of you yet, but you didn’t want to give him away either. Losing Johnny meant that he would never be yours. Maybe that was what it would take for you to open your eyes.

New guests caught Winwin’s eye and he tugged on his fiancé’s arm. “We’ll catch up with you later, we have to greet the other guests. Come on, Yuta.”

“You go ahead, babe. I’ll be right behind you in a minute,” Yuta dismissed. Winwin only nodded and went to greet their guests. Then, Yuta turned to you and quietly asked, “Everything okay between you and Johnny?”

“It’s your engagement party. Don’t worry about us,” you sighed, searching for the bar through the corners of your eyes.

Yuta was quick to retort, “And you’re my friends. I can worry about you whenever I want. Now, what’s up?”

You bit your lip. This wasn’t the kind of conversation you had in the middle of a betrothal party, but Yuta was adamant. You thought about the last time you had seen Johnny, how you felt when you kissed him. God, you missed the feeling of his lips on yours. Whenever Johnny was near your side you wished that you could hit pause on time. It was funny how the most beautiful moments in life were the most short-lived ones.

Your voice was small when you said, “I’m not a good person, Yuta.”

Yuta glanced at you curiously, eyes urging you on. “What you do?”

“I let Johnny down. A couple of weeks ago I told him that I’d try to break out of my habits. And I was actually doing better. I stopped resorting to drinking whenever something inconvenienced me and finding one-night stands to forget about Johnny.”

Yuta nodded along. “And then?”

“And then, my dad texted me and said he wanted to make things right between us, and I didn’t know what else to do. I got drunk last Friday night and Irene took me to Johnny’s house. I don’t remember much, but I know I winded up telling him what happened and crying on his shoulder,” you chuckled sourly. “He made me breakfast the next morning and we talked about it. And I feel bad because he doesn’t deserve none of this shit. He deserves someone better.”

He deserves someone that isn’t afraid to love him.

“Are you gonna be that person?” Yuta questioned, tone genuine.

I want to be. You exhaled. You didn’t know the answer to that.

You blinked, feeling tears threatening to fall. “I don’t know. The worst part is he has so much faith in me when I’m not even sure about myself. He should have walked away a long time ago, but he’s still here, waiting for me.”

“He’s ready when you are. But you aren’t ready yet, are you?”

Shaking your head, you frowned. You were far from.

“Be better. Do better,” Yuta said assertively. “I know that’s harder than it sounds, but you gotta try. Figure that shit out with your dad. What you choose to do is none of my business, but you have to heal and let it go so that you can be a better person for yourself and for Johnny.”

“That’s practically what Johnny said.”

“Great minds think alike,” Yuta grinned.

You snickered. “You got engaged and got all wise and shit, huh?”

“You know the tale. My dad was a drunk and treated me and my Mom like shit. It was up to me to decide if I wanted to grow into him, or if I wanted to be better,” he spoke monotonously.

But you were scared. You wanted to do things the right way, but you weren’t certain if you knew how. “What if I mess up?”

Yuta didn’t hesitate. “The point of mistakes is to learn. We all fuck up once or twice. That way, you know what not to do so you don’t fuck up the third time. It sucks, but that’s the way life works. Don’t make the same mistake thrice.”

He spoke the gospel. Where your family lacked, you were at least glad to have supportive friends. They were kind and you knew at the end of the day, they were people you could confide in. Maybe you would do it more often.

“I won’t,” you told Yuta. You sounded firm.

“Good,” he replied, and scanned the crowd for Winwin. “Now I gotta go with Winwin before he beats my ass in front of everybody. You go find Johnny, alright?”

You nodded. That you would. It had been too long since you had heard his voice and felt his touch and you were craving a taste. With that, Yuta left to join his husband-to-be and you scanned the crowd for your own lover.

In an instant your eyes landed on Johnny and you could spot him in any crowd. He was at the edge of the pool talking to Ten, who you caught casting Johnny a wink before walking away once he noticed you coming over.

When you got there, you crouched down and sat next to him. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Johnny greeted, instinctively wrapping an arm around your waist. “You look great.”

You blushed. This morning you had deliberately chosen the sexiest bikini set in your wardrobe. It raised the stakes and given how addicted Johnny was to your body, your chances at getting laid tonight. “You look the best.”

Johnny was also half-naked, obviously. And damn did he look gorgeous. You bit your lip. You were thoroughly convinced that the gods themselves had sculpted him. His body was to die for and you were offering yourself up.

Johnny joked, “I won’t argue with that.”

You snickered and nudged his side.

“How was your work week?”

Johnny groaned and you immediately knew the answer to that question. “I’m stressed and exhausted. I need an outlet for my pent up frustration.”

“Oh?” you stammered, mouth suddenly dry.

“Yeah,” Johnny said. His hand ran up and down your back and he leaned to your side, whispering, “Good thing I have you, right?”

There was a crushing weight on your chest that made it difficult to breathe. Whenever Johnny was near you, the pressure came back, and it only got more intense when he did things like that. The effect he had on you was strong and he had you tingling with lust.

“Yeah,” you murmured back, trying hard to keep your cool and avoid appearing anything other than indifferent. But he could see right through you. “Good.”

“What about you?” Johnny pressed. “How was your week?”

“I don’t wanna think about it,” you grumbled.

Johnny was so close to you that you could feel the warmth of his body radiating your skin. Given the sunny weather, you were already hot, but something about this felt internal. It was like trying to breathe on the moon. Johnny parted his lips and suggested, “Kiss me until you forget about it.”

There was no need to tell you twice. You initiated the kiss, steering his lips to yours until they met with a clash. Johnny took control, arms still wrapped around you as he took passion to another level. It wasn’t long before you were sucking on each other’s tongues. You crawled into his lap for easier access, wanting to be as close to him as humanly possible.

Heat flared from your chest to Johnny’s and vice versa, spreading from bone to bone at the skin on skin contact. Whenever you made out, it was like you were floating in air or navigating through space with no gravity. His hands clung to your body and you were on a cloud, elevating and trying your hardest to refrain from grinding down on his crotch.

Johnny deepened the kiss, holding you tightly as possible and moving his mouth against yours fiercely. His heart was thundering against and threatening to leap out of the cage of his bare, burly chest. God, there was no greater pleasure than kissing you and feeling your warm body on his. But you both were putting all of your strength into resisting each other and it was too much. The feelings were overbearing.

When you both pulled away, you exhaled little breaths, hearts racing. You looked Johnny in his lustful eyes and heaved, “I like kissing you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You taste good as hell,” you flirted.

“Mm,” Johnny hummed, nodding his head. He pulled you square to his chest, face hovering hardly inches over yours. You gulped, which undoubtedly didn’t go unnoticed. “What do I taste like?”

You pressed your palms to his naked chest, purring, “Strawberry champagne.” 

“Yeah, you missed the bottle popping,” he chuckled. God knows you would have loved that.

Faking a pout, you replied, “Bummer. I was too busy trying on different bikinis.”

“You wear this all for me?” Johnny flirted, ever the intuitive man. Unbeknownst to you, he had been eyeing you from the moment you stepped onto the scene. And the second he laid eyes on you in your bright red bikini, he knew that he had to have his way with you.

“Especially for you. I know blue’s your favorite color, but red suits me better.”

“You make short work of supermodels in anything you wear,” Johnny growled. He was looking at you from head to toe, as if he were going to swallow you whole.

“You’re just saying that because you wanna have sex with me.”

Johnny wasted no time in shutting you down. “I’m saying it because it’s true. Sex would be a nice bonus, though.”

You laughed.

“Come swim with me,” Johnny said, gently sitting you back on the edge of the pool before coming to his feet.

You hesitated. “Won’t Yuta be upset we ditched him at his engagement party?”

“That wasn’t a question,” Johnny added, lowering his voice. Which definitely did unspeakable things to you. “And trust me - Yuta doesn’t give a flying fuck as long as we join in when it’s time to gather around and shit.”

That was true. It didn’t mean Yuta had unsophisticated tastes, he simply just didn’t care for rules and formalities - untraditional by any means. Winwin was the opposite. Conventional to a fault, he was a man of decorum and the party was a clear mix of both of their personalities. Somehow, they both made it work.

Ignore the pace of your heartbeat, you muttered, “Okay,” and sunk into the pool.

Johnny followed suit with a tiny splash, swimming to your side. Being in the water felt good, all things considered. It was cold and gave your brain - and body - a quick refresh.

“You know, this reminds me of high school,” he started, pensive. “When Joy threw that pool party on the first night of summer break, and Jaehyun pushed you into the pool as a joke.”

The memory made you roll your eyes. In high school you were nothing if not a bunch of stupid teenagers. “He’s lucky I didn’t let myself drown and have my Mom sue him for everything he’s worth. Now that I think about it, I should have. Every penny to his name. Mommy and Daddy Jung would have killed him.”

Johnny chuckled. “Oh for sure. He would have been taking the city bus instead of high-end luxury cars and gotten a job at the nearest McDonald’s like the rest of us.”

“Damn nepo baby,” you shook your head and sighed. “Gotta love him, though.”

“To be born into wealth,” Johnny sighed dramatically.

You giggled.

Moments later, a thought passed your mind. A memory - the beautiful kind. You fought a smile and asked, “You know what else happened at that party?”

Johnny gave you a long, hard cook. It was practically inscrutable and noncommittal. If he had any idea what you were referring to, the only thing that gave it away was the slight smile on his face for a mere fraction of a second.

Of course, he knew. How could he forget? It was easily one of the best moments of his life, made even better because it was spent underneath the moonlight with you.

He shrugged, feigning oblivion. “What happened?”

“We made out for the first time,” you reminded, voice little. “We were each other’s first kiss.”

The memory was anything but vague. The both of you were a little drunk, and somehow found yourselves in each other’s embrace. And then, in each other’s mouths. For someone who had never made out with anyone before, then-Johnny kissed you like royalty. With every intention to conquer your mind, heart, and body.

In that sense, you guessed he had been successful. Johnny lived rent-free in your mind and had built a little home both there and in your heart, with enough room for the both of you. Not to mention your body. You were counting down the seconds until you could get him in the sheets right now. In your attempts to keep him out, you had simultaneously been giving him access to the most vulnerable parts of you.

To say nothing of himself. Johnny wished he could turn back time. Part of him wished that he could undo meeting you and falling in love with you, because he was beginning to lose faith in the two of you. The other part of him loved you too goddamn much to even begin to imagine a world without you in it. It wouldn’t be worth living.

“I remember,” Johnny assured, finally letting himself smile. He couldn’t control it. “Wanna know what you tasted like?”

You squinted. “What?”

“Guess.”

You rolled your eyes and deadpanned, “Your mother’s chocolate chip cookies.”

Johnny’s laugh was mocking. “You wish.”

Whining, you said, “Tell me! I don’t remember.”

He gave in - though because he wanted to and not because you told him to - and replied, “Tequila.”

“The cheap kind?”

“Nope. I’m sure Jaehyun stole that from Mommy and Daddy Jung’s liquor stash,” he quipped.

You snickered. It was a relief that he was good at directing conversation. For a moment, you thought that it was going south. God knows the past was a sensitive subject.

Although he said nothing, Johnny couldn’t help but think about it. For years, he had been in love with you. He remembered meeting you like it was yesterday - you were the new kid in school and Johnny was the one kind enough to be your friend. He showed you around, ate lunch with you, studied with you, and introduced you to his friend group. In no time, you were best friends.

You were his first kiss. Johnny knew he wanted you that night. When he pressed his lips to yours and felt his body elevating into the clouds above, he knew.

Eventually you became a series of each other’s firsts. First kisses, first times, first loves. You had been vulnerable to each other in ways that you hadn’t with anyone else.

And you, you were multifaceted. Johnny had seen the rawest sides of you and fell hard and deep in love with each one - the beautiful and the ugly. All of those things made you fall for Johnny, too, but you noticed it a little later than he did, once it was too late. Which hindered his progress.

By the time you realized you were in love with Johnny, you had already given your heart to the wrong people. That was why you couldn’t comprehend how someone would ever be able to offer you their love, and mean it. That was why you trusted no one.

Forget being your first. Johnny wanted to be your last and as the clock ticked, his chances felt slimmer and slimmer.

You stared at his lips, not even attempting to hide the direction your eyes were searching. “I want strawberry champagne.”

Johnny tilted his head. He had x-ray vision when it came down to your intentions, though this game he wouldn’t mind playing along with. “Do you?”

When you nodded, Johnny took the bait and leaned in to kiss you. It was like magic. Every time felt as surreal as the first one. You just couldn’t believe that you were blessed enough to have him at your fingertips.

Johnny was the same. I love her. It was old news to almost everyone, though the realization hit Johnny the same way it had that night when he first tasted you. When he realized that you were the one and only love of his life.

Sucking on Johnny’s tongue and moaning into his mouth, soaking in all his little sounds was all you wanted to do. Maybe this was why Yuta said you and Johnny would be next in fate’s line. It would be a lie to say that you hadn’t dreamt of having your daddy walk you down the aisle to the man of your dreams.

Though if there was anything that you had learned, it was that fate was an evil lady and she had it out for you.

Johnny soon backed off. He hadn’t had his fill, but you were driving him crazy. And as much as he wanted to be a good friend to Yuta, the urge to drag you away for a fuck was growing stronger. He warned in a low tone, “We’ll miss the rest of the party if you keep kissing me.”

“What’s so bad about that?” you purred, leaning closer to his face. You could feel each other’s breath on your skin. “We can have a party of our own.”

To your credit, you were dangerously skilled at tempting Johnny. It made him feel bad to think that you practically already were having a party of your own. Both of you were surrounded by people, but to him, it felt like there was no one else around you. The sound of your voice and laughter had been drowning out the sound of the presence of people.

With the last of his restraint and self-control, he said, “Mm, that’s tempting. But no. Be a good girl and be patient.”

Immediately, you frowned, but didn’t dare disobey. Johnny would give you what you wanted sooner or later because you knew that he wanted you, too. And though you had your flaws, you weren’t terrible enough to dip in the middle of your friend’s betrothal party.

“Fine,” you said exasperatedly, peeling yourself off of him. “But you better make it up to me later.”

Johnny gave you one last kiss to placate you a little, then whispered softly in your ear, “Don’t I always?”

That he did.

For the better half of the evening, both of you decided to interact with other people, including the ones being celebrated. Most of the time you and Johnny were incapable of resisting each other, and with the thoughts plaguing your minds, there was no way on earth that you would survive side to side without breaking your agreement.

You had a fun time, but you were more than relieved when Winwin announced that he and Yuta wanted some alone time. Everyone said their goodbyes and you raced to Johnny’s side.

“My place or yours?”

“Mine’s closer. Meet you there?” Johnny asked, though he already knew you would. You were practically careening to your car the moment he got the words out.

“Meet you there!”

Both of you arrived in turn, with you slightly ahead of him. You didn’t even wait for him to pull into the driveway before you were rummaging through your purse for the extra key Johnny had bestowed upon you long ago.

It was game over once he stepped out of his car and you were only alone for a split second before he entered, wasting no time in backing you against a wall and stealing a kiss. Johnny always kissed you like it was the last time he would ever get the chance. There was something eager in the way that his mouth moved against yours. It was heated, unchaste. He kissed you so hard that it was impossible to keep up with his pace.

“Someone’s desperate,” you teased through shallow breaths. Johnny nibbled at your ear and you sighed, pitching your head back against the plaster.

He ribbed, breath tickling your neck, “You’d oughta know a thing or two about being desperate. Seeing as you got to my house before me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up and kiss me.”

Under any other circumstances, Johnny would have teased you and made you wait before he kissed you again. Though seeing as he had been waiting too goddamn long for this moment, all he could do was cave.

Goddamn, his lips were soft. In contrast to the rough manner he handled your body. Everything was escalating too quickly and you were being dug into the wall by the weight of his body. There was so much tension in the room that you could hardly even breathe through it.

Johnny nudged his knee between your thighs and stuck his hand down your bottoms, the other roaming your body. “You’re so wet for me.”

“Do something about it,” you whined.

Johnny sneered. Part of him was half-tempted to tease the living hell out of you and see how much you could take. The other was losing hold of his heavy load of patience much more quickly than he would have liked.

“Wanna fuck in the shower to wash off the chlorine? Kill two birds with one stone.”

“Just don’t let me fall.”

He smiled. “I would never.”

Before you knew it, he was lifting you up in his arms like you weighed nothing. You squealed when you felt yourself being hauled into the air, locking your legs around his waist and resting your head on his shoulder. It felt too right being in his hold. As if it was supposed to be this way.

Maybe it was.

Johnny carried you to his bedroom and you clung to his chest for dear life. While he went in the bathroom to run the shower, you began to quickly peel off your clothes. You were on the threshold of insanity, bursting at the seams with lust. 

When the water was hot, Johnny stepped into the shower and you followed suit. As soon as your feet hit the non-skid shower mat Johnny shoved you against the wall, and the noise you made was eaten by the force of his lips. Your palms rose to his wet chest and his mouth fell from yours to your collarbone, soft and plush against your skin.

He simply couldn’t stay away. He spread your thighs apart and slipped one of hands back between them, this time moving them inside of you. Much to your pleasure. “Johnny,” you whimpered, breathless.

The sound of your lips parting to emit his name was like music to his ears and a melody stuck in his head. Thoughts of you underneath him, crying out his name whilst taking his size kept him up late at night, wishing he could rewind time to feel you back in his arms again. Where you belonged. It took every bit of willpower he had not to beg you to stay.

“Think you’re ready for me?” Johnny asked, leering at you with the darkest gaze that made your stomach churn.

You nodded. Johnny was big, that was undeniable, but you had taken every inch of his ungodly combination of length and girth countless times before like a champ. It was almost nothing to you.

He removed his fingers from your cunt and before you got the chance to whine from the emptiness, your lips were widening to sigh at the feeling of his bare cock brushing against your folds. Every second felt like minutes and your patience was wearing more and more thin. You needed him and you needed him right now.

Then, Johnny finally pushed inside, taking his sweet time to fill you. You swallowed him in with ease, simultaneously sucking in the deepest breath you could take. His eyes fell on your chest, water trickling down the swell of your breasts as you inhaled and exhaled.

Maybe taking him wasn’t like nothing. You felt not an ounce of pain, but the pleasure of having him fill you to the uttermost was overwhelming. The stretch meant something.

The moment the head of his girth prodded your entrance Johnny had already felt you pulsing tightly around him and you only kept clenching the deeper he pushed inside. You raced to anchor yourself, clawing at his shoulders while he pushed you firmer against the wall and he caged you between his big arms.

Johnny kissed your neck, then growled, “So tight for me.”

“All for you,” you stammered through thick breaths. It was too hot to breathe. The water burned your skins and Johnny made you erupt in flames all over.

Johnny grinned smugly.

Through hooded eyes, you soaked in the sight of water cascading down his neck - where his muscles flexed - and chest. For the better half of your life, Johnny had been a presence, but you would never get used to how gorgeous he was. His beauty was so ethereal to the point that it felt forbidden to be able to touch him like this. He was sent from the heavens above, both a blessing and a curse to you and your body.

The chains of restraint that bounded him snapped and Johnny latched his mouth to your nipple, meriting an automatic sigh of pleasure from your lips. With how close he was, you wondered if he could feel the thud of your heartbeat. It was racing inside your chest, the feelings you had for him raining hail and begging for freedom. Your heart was bursting at the seams with your love for Johnny and it pleaded desperately for you to unlock its door.

“You’re so hot,” Johnny whispered, keeping himself occupied with your body. Your brain was going into autopilot.

From Johnny’s perspective, your body was a treasure, and he knew its map by heart. All of your weaknesses were on display in his mind and he could choose whichever one he wanted to use to his advantage. He knew what felt good and what felt earth-shattering, and judging from the way you throttled his cock, this was the latter.

Neither you or Johnny talked too much during sex. It was difficult to speak when you were being fucked divested of every little thought you possessed and your mouth was too busy producing other noises.

And all Johnny hoped was that his body could say everything that words could not.

He couldn’t think of anyone else when he was with you, and when you were with someone else, you were still thinking of Johnny. Given the amount of nights you had spent searching for one-night stands you were no stranger to sex, but Johnny made it feel different. The emotions were stronger and so was the yearning. The two of you fucked each other like you had never wanted anything so badly before in your lives.

Johnny struck you somewhere deep and you rasped, “Fuck, baby.”

Fuck, he felt good. Even though you were prone to running away, there was no doubt that you would find yourself coming back for more. Johnny was your home and your heart would always drag you back to him. He owned your body. Whatever he desired to do with you - to you - you would let him. At the end of the day, you were his. Whether he knew it and you accepted it or not.

It wasn’t a choice. It was a feeling.

Looking at the dazed expression on your face gave him deja vu. The first time Johnny had sex with you, he genuinely thought that his heart was going to burst out of his chest. He was nervous, but if anything, dedicated. He vowed to himself that he would learn the ways of your body and put your pleasure before his. Which he did.

It was college, months before you met your soon-to-be ex, and you were freshmen. Giving your virginity to one another was one of the most unsurprising things that you two had ever done. At least back then, you were thick as thieves and did everything together. Who better to give it to than the one you could always bet on?

He still remembered that night like it was yesterday. All of your friends were going to a party, but you snuck inside his dorm while his roommates were away. One thing led to another and soon you were writhing beneath him, calling out his name like it was the only word you knew.

His feelings for you only heightened.

Johnny could still remember how heartbroken he was when you got with another man again - and how angry he was when he broke your heart just like the last guy. The emotions were so prominent that he could still feel them now. How long would it take you to realize that the man meant for you was already right by your side?

Even if he wasn’t the perfect match for you, Johnny knew deep down that he could love you better, because he already had without even needing to be in a relationship with you. Maybe if those boys had treated you right, then he could have came to peace with the fact that fate wasn’t on his side and you weren’t meant to be. But watching you cry after other men treated you like nothing only fed his flame.

“You close, baby?” Johnny asked, aiming to take you over the edge. His number one goal was to drive you out of your mind.

You could only nod, willing yourself not to speak. The words that would have left your mouth if you did were unimaginable.

Johnny fucked you even harder, chasing relentlessly for your orgasms. And you were just as - if not more - eager. He fought a complacent simper as he admired the way you were maneuvering your hips against his, whimpering with every touch.

The look on his face made you run your tongue over your dry lips. Barely were you resisting the urge to smash your lips against his. That look alone made you want to milk him dry of everything he was worth.

As badly as you wanted to savor every last moment, you could feel it in your bones that your orgasm was approaching. Listening to the noises resounding throughout the bathroom was what finished you - the sounds of your moans and Johnny’s hips slapping into yours with every thrust drowning out that of the shower pouring down on you both. You convulsed with release, gripping Johnny’s biceps for dear life as you met your orgasm with a high-pitched cry of his name.

Johnny wasn’t too far behind you. He couldn’t even grunt at the feeling of your nails digging into his flesh - it was outweighed by that of the pleasure of you clenching tightly around him with orgasm. It triggered his own, and he held you bruisingly tight as he spilled inside you with the lowest groan he could muster.

“You okay?” Johnny asked the moment you both were in the clear to speak.

You nodded weakly. “Perfect.”

Johnny smiled.

The two of you actually showered once you had caught your breaths, occasionally interrupting the other with a kiss. When you got out of the shower and re-dressed, Johnny pinned you to his bedroom wall and enveloped your lips in the biggest kiss yet. It was noticeably different from the other kisses that you had shared as of late. They were lustful and impatient. This was slow and steady - like he wanted nothing more than to savor the very taste of you.

He pulled away and whispered adoringly, “I love you.”

Your brain immediately went into overdrive. Given that you were childhood best friends, of course you and Johnny had said that you’d loved each other before. That was indubitable and not to be questioned. But this was different. This was in the context of a post-sex I love you.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

Johnny bristled. “I do mean it. I love you.”

Sighing, you walked off to his bed. You weren’t ready to have this conversation.

He stared at you incredulously, and reminded, “I’m not them.”

It was obvious who them was. Your past lovers. The ones that had left you so heartbroken that you could no longer let anyone inside your glass heart.

You shook your head, voice small when you replied, “I don’t know that.”

Johnny was visibly offended and upset. “How can you say that?”

“I don’t want to fight, John,” you said, exhaling loudly. This had escalated far too quickly and everything was heading in the wrong direction. For as long as you could, you wanted to steer clear of this course. But deep down, you knew that it had been inevitable.

He ignored you, walking closer to you and pestering, “I need answers. Do you really think I don’t love you?”

“Johnny…”

He didn’t relent. “Answer me.”

Frustrated, you shouted, “I don’t know what to think, Johnny! I’m scared to trust people - you know this!”

“And do you think I deserve to be punished for that?” Johnny snapped, white-hot rage seeping through and his restraints falling loose. “You and I both know I’m not just ‘people.’ We’ve known each other longer than you knew them. I’ve been here with you, for you, for a goddamn eternity. When have I ever let you down, huh? Tell me!”

His tone made you flinch and you were given whiplash. Johnny rarely got upset and never did he ever yell at your face, even if you sometimes deserved it. He was patient with you. For him to finally snap meant that you had wounded him deeply.

“I’m scared,” you croaked, teary-eyed.

“Right, you’re scared,” Johnny groused, turning around and heaving a thick breath. “Forget it.”

Pain burned through your chest in flares much like the anger spreading like wildfire throughout Johnny’s. Goddamn, this hurt. Was love supposed to be so complicated? Was love supposed to ache like this?

It hurt so good to love Johnny.

You stood up and shook your head. “No,” you told him, demanding, “Get it off your chest. Everything you want to say to me - say it right damn now!”

It wasn’t for you. No, you knew that the following words to come out of his mouth were going to scar you indefinitely. It was for Johnny. You knew that he had been holding all of this back for a long time and now this was his chance to erupt his heart volcano.

Johnny stormed right back over and said, “You want me to be honest?”

You nodded, tears rolling down your cheeks. He deserved it. You deserve it. You treat him like shit.

“Fine. I’ll be honest,” he seethed. You gulped, bracing yourself for his words to come. “You wanna know something? You’re so fucking selfish. You’ve been breaking my heart just because you’re trying not to get yours broken.”

That was true. You had been sacrificing his feelings in an effort to preserve yours and it was a futile plan - Johnny had already crawled his way inside your heart, yet you were still trying to keep him out.

“You have too much pride to show people your scars and that’s why every time I get closer, you push me away. Because all you know how to do is run like a coward. That’s what you’ve resorted to your whole life because you don’t know any better. But you can’t hide.”

You bobbed your head, willing yourself not to speak. Both of you needed this.

Johnny’s voice got lower as he said, “You think you can hide, but you can’t. You can’t fucking drink all your problems away. You can’t fuck them away, either. You can’t keep running to me and using me to dry your goddamn tears every time you realize all your problems are still there!”

“Johnny…” you called out through tears. As true as his words were, they stung. And guilt was eating at you from the inside.

“No. You fucking asked for this shit,” Johnny snapped, scowling. “I’ve been nice to you and patient with you, but all you do is take me for granted. And it hurt when you said you didn’t think I loved you, because I could have stopped putting up with your bullshit and cut you off a long time ago - but I didn’t. You know why? Because I fucking love you. And walking away would hurt as much as it does to stay.”

You told him softly, “I love you, Johnny.”

“Do you love me enough to stay?”

The room got silent. Did you? You knew that you wanted to, but damn was it hard. You were just so goddamn scared of hurt and betrayal. You had been left before and it broke you. It shredded you to the tiniest of pieces. But Johnny made you feel complete and whole again.

“Answer me. So I know if it’s time we move on,” Johnny commanded, impatient. “Am I just some booty call to you?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what the hell are you saying?”

“That I need you!” you screamed, the tension getting to your head - and your heart. It was too goddamn much. “I can’t live without you, Johnny. I can’t. I won’t. I’m scared because I don’t want to lose what we have. Losing you would be like losing the other half of me.”

Johnny got in your face again, but instead of yelling at you, he smashed his lips against yours. Just like that, you were relieved of the burden of all your fears and worries. He absorbed them and kept them somewhere safe, just like he did with all of your other secrets.

He kissed you with an emotion that was unmistakable - love. So much love. Maybe you had been blind to it before, but you could see it all clearly now.

Johnny was in love with you. And you were in love with Johnny.

“You’ll never, ever lose me,” Johnny swore in your ear once he detached himself from your mouth. He wiped at your tears with his thumb. “I promise. You’ve got me for life, alright?”

With a couple nods of your head, you crashed into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you snugly, welcoming your touch. This was where you were meant to be.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized after a couple of moments. It didn’t undo the pain you had been inflicting upon him for years, but it was a starting point for something better.

Johnny held you closer and kissed your forehead, then whispered softly, “I forgive you.”

He shouldn’t have, though you were grateful that he did. If it weren’t for his tenderheartedness, you weren’t sure what you would do.

“Let me be yours,” you sang.

It was tempting. You were offering him everything he had ever wanted on a silver platter. Granted, it didn’t take much to satisfy him - all he wanted was you. But as much as he wanted you, he wanted the most authentic version of you.

“Not yet,” Johnny said. You gawked, but he finished before you could interject, “I want to be in a relationship with you, but you need to take care of yourself first. Start tackling your problems. For starters, figure out what you’re going to do about your dad. Okay?”

You exhaled a long breath, but eventually nodded. “Okay.”

Johnny fought a content smile. “I’ll support whatever decision you choose to make,” he assured, pulling you closer to his chest. Then, he glanced down and asked, “Now - are you gonna run away or are you gonna stay the night?”

“I’m going to confront my fears and stay with you,” you whispered, refusing to separate yourself from the warmth of his body. You weren’t sure how you had done it before in the past. Tonight had given you an epiphany.

“Atta girl,” Johnny praised and led you to his bed. You flopped to his side, snuggling to his chest. “I have to go to work in the morning. Promise me I’ll wake up to your pretty face for motivation.”

You giggled, your laughter ringing through his mind beautifully. “I’ll be there. I promise, baby.”

Johnny was beaming from ear to ear. God, you loved seeing him like this. Happy. And he was happy because of you.

He couldn’t wait to wake up beside you in the morning.

Given their engagement, Yuta and Winwin were to have plenty of parties and the betrothal party was only one of many. Today marked the day of the housewarming party.

Their engagement meant that their relationship had developed into something serious. With marriage rapidly approaching, they were certain that they wanted to spend every moment of their lives together. And thus, they decided to move in with each other.

Which was how their new home came to be.

Guests spread out and filled the house to its brim, most of the ones you didn’t recognize being associates of Sicheng. After a couple of hours, you got off of your feet and went to rest in the living room.

And when you saw two very familiar men approaching you, you knew that you would be doing anything but resting.

“Oh no.”

Jaehyun and Ten sang in harmony, “Oh, yes.”

Watching the two of them take seats beside you, you could only wonder what in tarnation they were up to. Jaehyun and Ten were individual wildfires all by themselves, so you weren’t sure if you were ready to face the aftermath of combining the pair. Part of you was certain something would blow up in flames.

Narrowing your eyes, you asked cautiously, “What do you two bloodthirsty leeches want?”

“Chill, babe. We just wanted to hang with our favorite friend,” Jaehyun said. Given the untamed smile on his face, you highly doubted that. Jeong Jaehyun was nothing if not sheer trouble. And his partner in crime, too.

Ten nodded his head in confirmation. “Right,” he smirked, then pointed to the cup beside you. “What’s that - Bacardi?”

“Ha, ha,” you responded, deadpan. “No, bitch. It’s water. Contrary to an oddly popular belief, I’m not an alcoholic.”

Jaehyun interjected, “Babe, I can’t tell the difference between you and an alcoholic. That’s a problem.”

“What he said. I can hear your liver screaming ‘Ten, help me. Help me. Please…’”

You snapped, “Did you guys just come over here to terrorize me or is there something meaningful you have to say?”

Jaehyun leaned and asked quietly, like he was telling you a top-notch secret, “It’s because of Johnny, right?”

You spluttered, “What?”

He smiled, adding, “Don’t worry - you can tell me. Your secret is safe with me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, enough of the bullshit. Fess up,” Ten groaned in your other ear. Meanwhile you were thinking of ways to remove yourself from the Jaehyun-Ten you were between. “Something happened between you and Johnny. Something good.”

It wasn’t a question. He was saying that something happened and he knew it - he just didn’t know what. Yet.

You bit your lip. “Why do you say that?”

“Johnny’s been doing better lately, too. He’s been smiling more and in a better mood recently,” Ten replied, a spark of something raw and tender in his voice. “I like seeing him this way. It feels like I got the old Johnny back.”

Jaehyun nodded, all of the signs of jokes and games gone from his eyes. His expression was nothing short of soulful. “Me, too. There’s clearly been a shift. And whatever happened between you two, I hope it doesn’t shift back. He’s in a good place right now and so are you.”

Johnny had been happier lately. Everywhere he went he stood like a tall beam of light, radiating energy and warmth. And you two technically weren’t even together yet.

There was no way in hell that you would mess that up again. True to your promise to Yuta, you wouldn’t make the same mistake thrice. You had learned from your wrongdoings and decided that you were going to treat Johnny’s heart the same way you wanted others to treat yours. With caution and hypervigilance.

He deserved to be loved. Every bit of him. And you loved him to pieces.

“I won’t mess it up,” you assured them, confident. You knew what you wanted. And though you were still scared to go after it, you were willing to face your fears for Johnny. “I swear.”

Ten and Jaehyun smiled contentedly and replied in sync, “Good.”

Across the house, Johnny was having a similar conversation with your friends. And you were none the wiser.

“Hey, tough guy!” Yeri called out, grabbing Johnny’s attention. If it weren’t for the fact that she had bestowed the nickname upon him ages ago and was hellbent on sticking to her guns, he would have kept walking. She folded her arms across her chest and said, “Let’s talk.”

Johnny flickered his eyes between Yeri and the woman beside her - Irene - and a terrible feeling settled in his chest. Reluctantly, he admitted lightheartedly, “I feel unsafe.”

Both women responded in unison, “Good.”

He brought his plastic cup from his lips, then asked, “What’s this about?”

“You and y/n,” Irene said, eyeing him suspiciously.

Yeri wasted no time. “Are you two dating?”

On cue, Johnny’s heart seemed to boom at the mere thought of being in a relationship with you. As much as he wanted to make you his that night and as terribly as he fought against his every irrational decision, it wasn’t convenient timing. He wanted you to heal before anything.

Johnny feigned indifference, replying honestly, “No, we’re not. Why?”

Irene sat on the couch nearby, glancing off pensively. “She’s been… better again. She told us that she wouldn’t be drinking again for a while and she’s been opening up to me more and I’m proud of her. I just thought that it might’ve had something to do with you. You’re one of the biggest influences in her life, you know?”

“Yeah.” Johnny nodded. “I know.”

“And considering you haven’t given me the side eye yet, I think you’ve been happier, too.”

Johnny chuckled.

Then, Yeri cut to the chase and warned aggressively, “Take care of her, Johnny. I trust you, but you know how she can get. And if you break her heart, so help me I will…”

Irene reached for her friend’s hand and quickly interjected, “Yeri, I think they’re gonna be okay.”

Gladly, Johnny thought so, too. Things were far from perfect, though they were still going well and he was simply content to see that you were giving the two of you a try. He was tired of giving more than he was receiving and he had faith that those days were coming to an end.

“We’re gonna be okay,” Johnny repeated, assuringly. He believed it. He believed in you and him together. “But I appreciate all of your concern.”

Arms still folded and eyes still narrowed, Yeri eased up and nodded. Content, she walked off.

Irene rose from the chair and gazed up at Johnny, whispering softly, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being patient with her,” she replied, full of gratitude. Then - in an even tinier voice - she added, “And for doing what I couldn’t have done.”

Johnny said with no hesitation, “I would do anything for her.”

“I know. You’re strong.”

“So are you.”

Irene smiled. With that, she went to go meet back up with the rest of the girls.

Over the course of the following couple of weeks, you had been putting your all into becoming a better person. You kept to your word, steering clear of alcoholic beverages - more especially in mentally trying times - and you vented to your friends whenever necessary. They didn’t mind one bit. Anything was better than your typical methods of extreme self-destruction.

The passionless hook-ups came to an end, too. Johnny and you had never been exclusive, and though you weren’t yet together, it was impossible to do as much as imagine yourself with another person. Johnny’s touch was the only one that you wanted to feel on your body. You wanted to feel the way he poured his heart out to you whenever you had sex.

You wanted love. You wanted passion and fondness and intimacy.

And Johnny delivered.

After a while, you came to a decision about your father. One day, you chose to answer. In those that followed, you stalled to the best of your ability, still indecisively wavering over the option to meet him in person.

But the conversations, both through text and over the phone, swayed you. It broke you to hear his voice and vice versa. Talking to him for the first time in decades was life-changing.

That was how you ended up outside of a restaurant, fast forward some weeks later.

Johnny helped you out of his car, walking you to the front of the building. Your fingers were interwoven, and he let you clutch his hand when you felt nervous. “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

You nodded. Though you were sure, you were anxious. And you were grateful that he had so much power over you, to the point that his mere touch made you feel at ease again.

“I’m sure,” you said, clinging close to him.

“Breathe, baby,” Johnny whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to your neck. “I’ll be right outside waiting for you. Okay?”

Waiting for you. What would you do without him?

Instead of replying, you whirled around and stood on your tiptoes, kissing his lips. Johnny kissed you back with fervor, holding you like you would fall if he were to let you go.

Through your heavy breaths, both nerve-induced and from the breathlessness of making out with him, you confessed gently, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Johnny replied without hesitation. It was a no-brainer. He loved you. So goddamn much. And that was exactly what you needed to hear. “Now go meet your old man.”

That was the last push you needed. You were standing on the threshold of a self-healing journey and that was what made you swing the gates open.

You approached the table your dad reserved. It must have been miles away, because when you got there, you couldn’t breathe.

Your father looked at you, face full of sincere emotion. He stared at you with so much awe, incredulous through and through. Tears threatened to fall from both of your eyes.

You croaked thickly, “Dad.”

“Princess,” he heaved back.

His arms were wide open and you raced in, desperate. The tears began to rain. You couldn’t even remember the last time that your father had held you. This is what you had been missing. During all those heartbreaking times, this is what you needed most.

Soon, he began to apologize profusely, voice bursting with shame and regret. There was absolutely no satisfactory explanation that he could offer you - you just needed to know that although he couldn’t take it back, he would do whatever it took to earn your forgiveness.

And once you reached closure, you were talking as if the past had never happened and he had always been there.

Your father looked at you and sighed - contentedly. He shook his head, all sullen when he stated, “You’re a woman now.”

You quipped, “And you’re an old man.”

Your father chuckled. He was adapting to your humor very quickly. Perhaps there was a reason why.

After a moment, he asked curiously, “That boy outside your boyfriend?”

“His name’s Johnny,” you smiled, teary-eyed, then confessed, “You should meet him some day.”

“Do you love him?”

There was not a bout of reluctance. “So much.”

“Then, I will.”

You beamed.

There was no holding you back, no reason not to say it proudly anymore. Johnny was yours and you were his. His heart would always belong to you and yours to him. That was the way it was supposed to be. Meant to be.

And some day, your Dad would be walking you down the aisle to the man of your dreams.