#to clarify it's more about time skip and the talk at the end of part 2 bc yea ofc mhok also changed throughout whole series in general

[morzowo]

so one character got to learn how to live again, how to reenter society after traumatizing event that will forever impact his life, got to heal and rebuild his relationship with his family even estranged father, reconnected with his old friends and was able to create reliable support system of people that also grew throughout this healing process and now can understand him more and be there for him, got to graduate and start his own business and now can even give inspirational speeches to help others

and the other one had to leave two closest people to him that were his only support after his family death bc 'friends' he had before weren't type of people worth reconnecting with, move out of his country abandoning everything he knew his whole life just to * checks notes * start a job he didn't really want and the main reason he needed higher pay was to establish financial stability for one of two people who he had to leave and that no longer wanted to be with him

okay yea okay sure both cases are about personal 'growth'

[monstersflashlight]

Day 2. Monster-kinktober: Artificial intelligence + Handjobs/Temperature play

A/N: This is a prequel piece of this one that nobody asked for but I wanted to write. Also, I took handjob in the literal way, so we have fingering as handjob here. Enjoy!

Robot x fem!reader || dirty talk (kinda), fingering, temperature play, semi-public sex (technically)

When you started working in the factory, you were mesmerized by the robots. You were the only human in your floor and thought they would be more… mechanical. But they weren’t. They looked very much robot-like, but they were great at conversation. They were nice in a very human way, and that only made them even more appealing for you. They were interesting, and weird looking, and a bit androgynous in the best way possible. So nobody would blame you when you say you fell in love with one of them.

It all started in a slow Wednesday afternoon. You had a couple hours until the end of your shift but there wasn’t much to do, so you were just filling some paperwork and trying to look busy without being too obvious about the fact that you were only moving papers around. And then someone knocked on the door of your office. You thought it would be one of the humans of other floors, looking for something and being too stupid to ask the robots. Some humans didn’t like the fact that the company was mainly robot oriented.

But it wasn’t a human. It was your favorite robot looking as weird and mechanic as always, and making your pulse skip a beat as he showed his silver bald head. “Hi! What can I do for you?” You asked cheerfully.

“I have a question,” he said in his monotonous tone, eyes unblinking. At first it was unsettling that they didn’t blink, but you got used to it and now it was a bit exhilarating to be the focus of attention of a robot, they didn’t miss a single movement you did and that called to you in a weird way.

“Okay. What kind of question?” You questioned, looking at him in the most professional way you could muster, but probably failing because he was robotically hot. In a way that made your pussy a little bit wet every time you talked to him.

He didn’t wait more than two seconds before shooting at you: “Do humans like robots?”

“Wow, that’s a big question right there.” You thought about it for a few seconds, trying to organize your thoughts to explain human-supremacy groups to a robot. “Some humans like robots just fine, but other humans think they are inferior to humanity so they…”

He cut you. “No, no. I understand that, I mean if humans like like robots,” he clarified.

And for a moment you were speechless, was he really asking if human and robots could have some kind of romantic or sexual connection? Was that even a possibility? You’d thought about it (a lot), but you never knew robots could feel that way about humans, you weren’t even sure they felt. You knew artificial intelligence was great nowadays, but you weren’t sure and thought it would be rude to ask. Good luck they weren’t scared to ask anything and were always truthful.

“Oh. Oh. I don’t know… Yeah, I guess so. Why not?” You answered, trying to sound neutral about it.

He looked at you for a few more seconds before asking: “Do you like robots? Do you like me?” He caught you completely unprepared for that question.

“What?” You squealed.

“I like you.” You just discovered they could like humans, and your brain was trying to process a thousand little movements and interactions at the same time, trying to figure out if he meant what you thought he meant.

“What do you like about me?” You asked, still confused about what was happening. Was your robot crush really telling you he wanted to have his way with you, too? That wasn’t possible, was it?

“You treat me like an equal, and you are always nice to all robots. Also you look squeeze and I want to touch you.” You choked on a laugh at that part. “Do you like me?” He repeated.

You thought about it for half a second, thinking about the naughty fantasies you had all alone in your house. You thought about all the extra time you spent in his area just to chat with him for a bit. You did have a crush on him. “Yes,” you finally let out, a spark of hope inside your chest.

“Good,” he accepted, his head bobbing up and down in a very non-human way that made you want to smile. “Are you my girlfriend now?” He said, making you giggle.

“Aren’t you going to take me out first?” You joked.

He looked panicked for a second. “Yes. Yes. Human records said we need to go to dinner and to the movies. But I don’t eat, and I’m not allowed into cinemas. But we can skip that and do the fucking, that’s third date as the internet explained,” he deadpanned, making you choke on air and start coughing really hard.

“We can do what?” You choked out, eyes as big as plates as you looked at him.

“The fucking. The internet said human partners used their genitals together to get pleasure. I don’t have genitals, but I can create some,” he explained in his toneless voice, making it sound serious and ridiculous at the same time. He continued: “different shapes, different colors, they can attach. I have them on my desk. I’ll bring them. Wait here,” he ordered.

“Wait!” But he was already gone.

He came back a couple minutes late, carrying a big box full of various dicks of different colors, shapes and even textures. You were looking into the box trying to decipher when your life became so surreal and how did your boring Wednesday end up with a robot boyfriend and a box full of attachable dildos.

“We can try them now,” he announced, reaching to grab one when you stopped him.

“No! We are working.”

“But I want to touch you and I have no job right now. You don’t either. You’ve been moving papers around all day.” You didn’t even have time to process the fact that he was aware of your every moment before he was talking again. “Let me touch you, please.” His voice sounded mechanical and had zero tone to it, but at the same time it sounded like a plea and you found yourself accepting with a soft “okay”.

He approached you and lowered his bald robot head until he was a couple centimeters away from your face, he stared without blinking until you looked away, red blush covering your cheeks. “I like that you can change colors,” he said, making you smile. “Can I see your tits? The internet said human women liked them played with.” His change of behaviour from cute to horny robot made you want to laugh maniacally.

“Some human women do, some don’t,” you explained.

“Do you? Do you like your boobs being played with?” He asked, his head tilted to the side in a very puppy-like gesture that made your heart skip a beat. He was looking at your covered boobs like they held the answers to all his questions. He reached for your buttons and you didn’t stop him.

“Ye- yes,” you stuttered, suddenly nervous as he unbuttoned your shirt and stared at your lacy bra. He lowered it down, exposing your tits to the cold air of the office and making your body shiver.

“Why are they hard?” He asked at the same time he pinched one of your nipples with a bit too much force. You let out a gasp and he released it, just to do it again. You liked that he was playful, it was refreshing.

“It’s cold and they are sensitive,” you let out between heavy breaths.

“They turn hard when cold?” You nodded, and then cried out when his fingers suddenly became as cold as ice as he rubbed your nipples with them, making your back arch on your chair. “Oh. And what happens if it’s hot?” He asked as you felt his hands became scalding hot and you cried out again.

He did it a couple more times, pinching and rubbing and making you lose your mind with just his fingers. You were almost at the edge of a good orgasm when his hands traveled down, popping the button of your pants and rubbing your covered mound.

“The internet said this was the best place to give pleasure. Is that true?” He asked, his hand slipped lower, rubbing over your dripping center. You nodded frantically, grabbing onto the sides of the chair like your life depended on it. “It’s wet and soft,” he noted. You flushed redder, your face flaming hot as he explored the inside of your pants. He pushed your panties to the side and touched right over your aching pussy, making you cry out again, your eyes rolling back into your head. “Do you like that?” You nodded, your teeth biting down on your lips so hard you tasted blood.

He rubbed up and down your pussy for a while, not doing anything crazy, just two fingers collecting your wetness and exploring your most vulnerable place. He hummed every once in a while, looking at you unblinkingly as you squirmed on the seat. And then he found your clit, his fingers rubbing over it with such precision you saw starts and had to cover your mouth.

“I wonder what happens if I apply cold here,” he said out loud as you felt his fingers turning ice cold and your body shivered, more juices dripping from your pussy.

He turned his fingers scorching hot, rubbing your clit, and then cold when he rubbed them over your entrance. You were on edge, but he wasn’t even trying to get you off. You were desperate, wanting to do something, to come, but you wanted to let him explore you some more… It was exhilarating to have him pay such attention to you.

And then he surprised you pushing two fingers inside as he rubbed his thumb over your clit. The combination making your body jerk as he gave you the robot equivalent of a smirk, which looked like a weirdly creepy grin that made your pulse race and your pussy wetter. He crocked his fingers and found your G-spot, faster than any human ever had, and you screamed under your palm. He looked at you and did it again, rubbing your clit and sweet spot at the same time. Your orgasm was so close you could feel it at the tip of your consciousness, but he stopped then. Just for a few seconds, but enough to make you release your hold on the chair and grab his bald metallic head.

“Make me cum,” you pleaded.

He didn’t answer, he just grabbed one of your boobs with his free hand and started rubbing ice cold fingers over your nipple. At the same time the hand in your pants got hotter and hotter, almost too hot, but so, so good. He thrust inside of you a couple times, his thumb rubbing over your clit… and that was it. You screamed as your back arched and your body fell into the most intense orgasm of your life as he stared at your contorted face.

You were coming down from the high when he said: “I liked that. Next time we should try the dildos,” he stated, voice monotonous.

“Yeah… Whatever you want,” you told him, too tired to argue, and too excited to try.

[messyhairedhazeleyeddude]

╔═════ •┈• “I Hear You.” •┈• ═════╗

A Toge Inumaki x Fem!Deaf!Reader || Fluff + SMUT || ˚. ୭ ˚◦˚.

Contents ; Mind reading (reader has cursed hearing), Toge has PTSD, soft touches, hesitant fingering, face-riding, mind control (Toge uses his speech curse), squirting, soft dom Toge, public sex, cock-warming, and a cumshot in reader’s panties.

A/N ; Hi, so I just wanted to explain a little bit of background on this since reader’s curse might be hard to understand for some right away. But, basically, reader is partially deaf from a horrible accident involving a curse that had consumed one of Sukuna’s fingers. It left her with a cursed ability to where she can listen into someone’s thoughts for a limited amount of time at random. However, it has its drawbacks which you will see in the story. Now, that’s all! Hopefully that clarifies some confusion if there is any.

Dynamic ; Best Friends to Lovers

Sexual Dynamic ; Soft Dom!Toge | Bottom!Fem!Reader

P.O.V ; First

Age range ; 18+

Music Suggestion ;

{Y/N’s P.O.V :}

I sat on an oak polished bench with a heavy sigh, facing toward the buildings of Jujutsu High, hundreds of Ginkgo trees shrouding certain parts of their rooftops in a pretty spiral. The same ones lining the path that I walked on to get to our usual hang-out spot.

Their orange leaves danced around my head and landed at my black Mary Jane’s, my glossy lips quirking up into a smile at the perfect shape of the leaf before lifting my Canon camera to take a picture. As soon as my finger hovered over the snap button, it flew away.

Wind being the culprit. A shudder ran down my spine when the gust blew through my {H/C} hair and ruined another shot, making me huff in frustration.

I’ve been dealing with this annoying weather all day. Finally, the day I’m off of studying and training. Left alone to fulfill any hobbies I want for as long as I want with no one calling me on a mission to exorcise curses. And it just had to be windy.

However, I couldn’t complain. Being able to get dressed for the day, something I hadn’t been able to do in a long time— was more than exciting. There was even time for myself to do my makeup and having hours like that as a Jujutsu student would be considered lucky.

Reminding myself of him, I smiled. The memories of his horrible attempts at being on time flashed in my mind and brought a small giggle out of me. Oh, that’s right. How could I forget the example himself? For the boy I was waiting on, getting out of work was non-existent.

The feeling of a warm hand placing itself on my shoulder made me jump out of my seat, twisting around to stand in a fighting position with a little scream. When I saw the recognizable white parted hair and tired, doe eyes of Toge, I clasped both of my hands together and puckered my lips out of embarrassment.

He was quick to be apologetic, repeating the same weird ingredients he usually said over and over again, “Sujiko… Takana..?” But, by now, I somewhat understood what he meant. Takana was used as a form of asking if I was okay. Sujiko… That, I could only guess meant an expression like, ‘Oh gosh.’ Or I liked to imagine it was.

Hanging out with the cursed speech user outside of missions had benefits when it came to understanding his way of talking. Although, that was funny to mention because the way we had come about to regularly seeing each other was far from willing. Or maybe it wasn’t on my end. But, if I could take those doubts back, I would.

Thinking of that dredged up a flashback of how it all started.

•···· ‘ First Meeting Him . . . ’ ····•

My feet slipped while trying to hop onto the next stone in the middle of a river I was crossing, almost taking a tumble into the cold water before I saved myself by stretching out my arms. I regained my balance and breathed heavily, cursing underneath a couple of them.

Then I went for the fifth one, regaining momentum and skipping across each of them until I landed on my toes into the bed of pebbles near the water. Surprisingly, I had yet to cut them on a sharp object sticking through the dirt.

I turned my head from staring down at my legs and white skirt to looking at my reflection in the clear stream.

{E/C} eyes peered back at me, filled with happiness from the moment of quiet, and appreciation for the fact I didn’t have to stress my attention span on anyone. Or that’s what I thought.

Before I could get further with that thought, a headache began to form on the right side of my temple and I placed a hand up to it; worry rising as I knew what was happening when I heard ringing after the throbbing. My curse. It was coming.

I couldn’t understand how it was. A person had to be beside me in order for me to connect to their inner consciousness and they’d have to be in an extremely weak mindset which would take hours for me to perfect in battle.

So, what this was and what this meant was far beyond anything I’ve experienced with my curse. Right up until this very point.

Crouching down to my knees, I started to hold both sides of my head now. The pain and ringing worsening by the minute. I rocked back and forth to try to ease myself. Why was it so hard to connect to them? It was like they were poisoning my brain the more I tried to.

Whoever it was took me forever to process before I could hear the faint sound of mumbling, such a soft and sweet voice.

“What do I do? What do I do? I can’t have her knowing that I stopped to watch her… Even worse, she could think I followed,” I managed to make out what they were saying, the masculine tone rambling on and on, as if the boy had some form of hyperactivity disorder.

Thankfully, the migraine stopped once I was successful in linking. So I was able to stand up straight again. Looking around for the responsible one of my misery.

I figured I’d tell them I knew they were here to lure them out of their hiding, shouting with a lag on any words I couldn’t hear I was pronouncing right, “Who’s out there?! You can show yourself! I won’t be upset with you!” Hope I said that correctly.

The voice paused and no longer spoke a word, a silence enveloping the atmosphere and leaving me to barely confirm that they were still present by checking if my cursed energy was still being used. When I did, I called out a second time, “I promise! I won’t think anything bad of you! I can hear your thoughts! My curse is working with you as of now!”

My attempts at getting them to come out seemed futile and I was about to give up before I heard rustling in the bushes to my left. I turned my head to see who it was and to my surprise, it was that cursed first grade sorcerer. What was his name? Inumaki?

His chin was lowered but his eyes were wide and fixated on mine, like he was in shock. He was nervous from what I could tell in his body language: hesitant in his footsteps, jagged breathing, and small pupils. I could see a shake in how he walked too. Whatever it was that was scaring him about me, it was definitely due to underlying trauma.

And once I heard what he started to think about, I pieced together why, “Okaka, okaka, okaka, okaka.” He continuously repeated the Japanese word for ‘Fish Flakes’ in a panicked tone, his hand moving up to his forehead to press against it. Toge was forcing himself to not think anything because he was worried his curse would affect me.

The poor boy proceeded to break down in front of me, landing onto his knees in the grass while pulling at his hair as slips of actual words were coming into his sentences, “Okaka, I can’t, no! Stop thinking, Ikura, just Ikura! No, no, no, OKAKA!”

I could feel his torment. Having access to someone’s mind wasn’t a gift like people assume it is, this was why. You get to see what they see, feel how they feel, and physically align yourself to the point where it could be labeled as scientifically combining one’s spirit with another. That means I can see all of his past and present. I can understand every single thing Inumaki was trying to do for me in that moment. And it was to save. Save me from him. Only save me from him. That was what he was really trying to say.

There wasn’t enough time left of my ability for me to convince him to calm down and see that nothing was wrong. I was cut off before I could say a word of affirmation and from the look of dull surprise on Toge’s face, he sensed that it was over.

I don’t think I’ll be able to forget that look of sadness in his purple eyes when he came to the realization that everything was fine. That none of his words had hurt or done the things he had saw in his head. It’s what led me to tug his sleeve as he tried to leave.

Inumaki didn’t look at me, but he stopped. Like he was waiting for me to say what I had to say. So, I hurriedly proposed an idea I wouldn’t have blurted out had I not felt rushed, “Can I see you again?”

Admitting this now, I adored seeing that smile curving up his cheeks, as melancholy as it was. It’s what made me start to crush on the boy. He nodded his head and gave me a thumbs up, his eyes squinting into crescent-shaped moons while he remarked, “Shake.”

That was the beginning of our unspoken friendship.

•···· ‘ End of Flashback. . . ’ ····•

I blinked rapidly when coming back from the small memory trip, realizing that I had been staring at Toge the entire time I was lost in it. A blush creeped onto my face, I could feel the warmth scattering my cheeks and I lifted my hands to cover it; leaving my eyes open to keep eye contact with him.

That wasn’t a smart idea. He was bound to know that I was flustered. Inumaki had such an odd increased sense of observation because of his inability to have conversations. I could see it from how he looked at me. It always felt like he was reading into my soul, gently peeping behind the curtains of my brain, and looking at the scripture of my bones whenever he held his gaze on me like he was currently.

A hum left me and I laughed it off, brushing the sleeves of my brown cardigan on my cheeks, stepping toward him, “Pardon that, it’s so cold… Do you think we could go somewhere warmer?”

Toge lingered the stare for a minute before he gave me a break and answered, “Tsuna Tsuna.” I distinctly recall that to mean, ‘Look’ in his vocabulary. Confirming it when he grabbed me by my wrist and pulled me closer, bringing me into a hug.

At first, I thought he was trying to warm me up with his own body temperature but then I felt him taking off his jacket and that made me pull away. The stupid blush on my face wouldn’t ever go if he kept this up. I apologized and waved a hand at the action, “No, no! Thank you for the kindness.. But, you need that too.”

He continued to take it off and walked back to where he was in front of me, throwing the jacket over my shoulders and holding it there with the arm holes wide open.

I stared up at him, his face closer than before, and the details in it enough to make my face burn brighter; like a tomato. Then I slowly slid my arms through the warm piece of clothing, letting it mold into my body, giving him a small smile of comfort and gratitude.

Toge looked me up and down, holding two thumbs up with an exclamation of the word he uses for praise, “Mentaiko!” His eyes smiling at me once again.

Why did he have to be so sweet? I was lost in thought about my crush on the boy for what felt like the millionth time. Tired of stressing my feelings on it but I wasn’t able to say a word about it to him. I didn’t want to ruin a friendship that seemed so fragile by acting on something that’d be so selfish. He wasn’t looking for a girlfriend, he was looking for a friend. Someone he could finally have a connection with outside of his stressors. Not another load to bear.

Shunning myself from having anymore thoughts on the matter, I went to sitting on the bench from earlier again, Inumaki following behind and plopping down next to me.

We sat in silence and watched the scenery like I had been before, helping me calm myself so no more unnecessary romance made me avoid the white-haired boy. I closed my eyes and burrowed most of myself into the jacket to keep some heat maintained, the smell of rice and red mungbean paste wafting from it.

Glancing at Toge, I noticed that he was leaned and fixated on scribbling something on a paper resting in his lap. Seemingly to have got it from the backpack he carried here.

I watched as he jotted down the last of what he needed to write. He shoved the pencil back into one of the pockets of his bag and folded the paper up into a square; handing it to me the moment he was finished. My expression changed into a surprised stare, digging my fingers into the corners of it until I undid the folds one by one.

There was no way I would expect to see what I read on that paper, but I did. Stumbling over the words he wrote with shock.

‘Please, try to connect to me again?’

Looking over at him, my wide eyes met with his purple, calm orbs. Like he was trying to tell me it was okay. Inumaki outstretched his hand and placed it facing up on my thigh for me to hold it, peacefully smirking at me as if he was letting me know that he was ready to talk.

My breathing increased and my eyelashes fluttered, trying to process everything without getting too overjoyed, but that was really hard. He wanted to speak to me. Would I be the first person he’s talked to? Would I be the first to experience a conversation with a cursed speech user?

None of this mattered. The only thing that mattered was getting to experience the connection again and after having so much time to regain control over this cursed energy I had, I was more than prepared to pull it together.

My eyelids shut and I focused every single bit of my attention on Toge’s presence, pinpointing the exact spots of his soul and reaching out a hand to place it on his forehead. Sweeping hair out of the way for my palm.

A buzz of power vibrated through my entire arm and I could hear the sounds of almost thousands of student’s thoughts for a fraction of a second, my head spinning until a snap was heard. And then quiet. I could picture a thin white line in my head, the sound of soft, running water making me giggle. His soul was so gentle and pretty. It was exactly what I thought it would be like.

I opened my eyes to look at his handsome face once more, giving him a nod to let him know that I succeeded in the connection. My heart picking up pace and thumping against my chest as I waited to hear that voice of his.

Quiet but kind, he murmured to me, “Can you… hear this?” I eagerly nodded, a wide grin accidentally peeping from my lips as I said, “Yes! Yes, I can!” His eyebrows raised and he appeared starstruck, choking out in his mind, “You can… And nothing is happening to you? You can talk to me?”

Tears formed in the corners of his ducts out of being overwhelmed, threatening to spill while I continued to shake my head up and down, confirming the one thing he had been wanting almost his whole life.

He scoffed, thinking out loud with more confidence, “I didn’t think something like this was possible for me…” I had never heard him speak so clearly before. Last time he was so hard to hear that I had to listen to each syllable for a clue on what he was saying. Now, he spoke directly into his head.

But, pushing everything to the side, I was curious about his reasoning. Why was he suddenly okay with this? So, I asked him, “What made you want to connect?”

Toge bit his lip at the question and a random look of nervousness crossed his face, his directness failing him as he gave himself away instantly, “I was trying to ask if you would be willing to cross the boundaries of friends and into something more…?” My jaw dropped at what he just said, looking at him like he was insane before coughing a reply, “Wow! I wouldn’t have thought this was what you were going to say! Um…!”

Tilting my head to the ground, I tucked my knees together and sheepishly took the hand that he kept there from earlier. Interlocking my fingers with his and squeaking out, “I think I would really enjoy that…”

This was happening. He was confessing feelings for me I believed didn’t exist a moment ago and telling me he wanted me to be his girlfriend. Holy, shit. Mind my language, but seriously! HOLY, SHIT!

Inumaki squeezed my hand and reached over to grab my chin with his other one, turning me to face him so he could get closer. Observing how I was responding to the situation with a tiny smirk. Was he being cocky? The Toge Inumaki?

He touched noses with me, asking as he barely hovered his lips on mine, “I don’t know why… but I really want to…Is it okay if I kiss you, {Y/N}?” My breath caught in my throat and I froze, responding through my own thought, “Yes.”

There was no hesitation after, our lips locking in a tight hold as he brushed his hand to the back of my neck, tugging me into him to where we were smushed against one other. A small bit of desperation in the pull, causing the both of us to stay in the kiss until we needed a break for oxygen.

I panted once apart, Toge moving his arm from holding my hand to pushing his fingers to my lower stomach, hesitating right around there. He murmured, “Can I go all the way?” Struggling from holding back by the way he was dragging down. I dug my teeth into my tongue and contemplated over the ask, secretly accepting it as soon as he mentioned it. Fuck, I felt like such a bad influence.

“Do it,” I quickly whispered into his ear, nuzzling down into the crook of his neck to hide there afterward. What were we doing? What if someone saw?

Me and Toge were exchanging kisses on an outside bench. We were cuddled up until the white-haired boy laid me down on the wooden planks, his lips dipping for my neck and sucking on parts that were exposed. I gasped, wrapping my arms around him to plant my nails deep into his back. I didn’t mean to hurt him, I was just overstimulated by the rushes of dopamine from every single touch he gave.

It was so soft. Even as he pushed his fingers underneath my skirt and in between my thighs, it tickled me from how delicate he was. This was weird. Who knew I would like someone touching me like this?

Inumaki hovered above my underwear once he got around to them, swallowing nervously while he confirmed with me for a second time, “I can go ahead? You want this?” He was so adorable in the way he quirked his head like a puppy as he asked, his messy hair making me want to squeal. But I refrained.

I decided to vocally express it now, “Yes, I want you to.” Hopefully that would get it through to him. His face almost innocent for that brief moment he asked right until he got the message. A darkness shading over his face before he hooked his fingers on the fabric that covered me. Pushing them to the side and making me hold my breath.

He was doing this to me. He was really going to do this with me. Out in public. My head turned to stare out at the falling leaves with a churning anxiety in my stomach now. Letting the boy above me feel the wetness between my legs with his fingertips, pushing down to my entrance and slowly sliding one third of it in.

If my grip was bad then, I couldn’t imagine how it was once he started. It felt like he was trying to tease me for the first half of it, constantly taking his fingers out, pushing an entire digit inside, then half of another, and proceed to completely abandon the whole thing. Like he was experimenting with me and figuring out which made me feel the best. Eventually, I had to plead, “Toge, Toge…! Can you please… just keep them in?” That was awfully embarrassing.

The purple-eyed boy raised his brows, gushing out an apology and pulling completely away instead, “Oh..! Sorry… You feel really.. nice. I hope this is okay…” Before he went to kiss from my neck down to my chest, all the way to my hips. Looking up at me through those white eyelashes of his as he went for it, wrapping his mouth on my sensitive bud and dipping his tongue to my entrance.

He lapped in and out of me, my legs tensing and squeezing around him on accident while he dragged me into sitting on top of his face. Peering at his eyes that stared straight up at me, the other half of him covered by my thighs and lower half. I humped a tiny bit from how good I was feeling. Unable to stop myself from getting out of hand because he was driving me nuts with his pace.

I couldn’t keep it in for longer if he kept pressing the tip of his tongue on those sweet spots inside. Or if he kept sucking on the right places. Anything. I would unwind. And I didn’t want to make a mess on him.

Without me saying a word about it, it was like he knew I was close because of how fast he got all of a sudden. Thrusting his tongue until my legs were shaking. I cried out, reaching for and tugging on his hair. Toge groaned on me, sounding like he was annoyed, “Cum already.”

Those were real. He actually said that. And I couldn’t respond to it because my first instant reaction was to scream, collapsing forward onto the arm of the bench to hold tight as I rocked my hips.

All of my juices fell out of me and anything that couldn’t be caught by him dripped down the sides of his cheeks onto the floor. I twitched and lifted myself off, my shoes thudding on the concrete as I tried to regain my balance. Jesus, fuck, I can’t believe he did that. I can’t believe WE did that. I was so dizzy from it, I didn’t know how I was awake. My hand reached up to rub my forehead.

Although, I had no idea that Inumaki had different plans. The sound of another command from him frightening me to my core, “Take them off.” I didn’t even know what he was telling me to take off but I went for his pants anyway, guessing that he could mean something and I would still do it despite not knowing. His ability was something else. And to say that I’m not freaked out about what he was telling me to do was an understatement.

Toge was making me hook up with him. Not like I wasn’t going to in the first place, I’m only confirming this because he was going down this route and I shamefully liked it. Well, loved it…

After taking his cargo pants off of him and resting them at his knees, he helped take off his boxers next, making me cover my eyes out of sheer inexperience. I’ve never seen one in real life. And here I was about to see Toge’s. This was my first time. He seemed to get how I was feeling because he patted my head for reassurance, cooing at me in thought, “Take your time… Sorry that I’m so eager. I hope you aren’t minding, {Y/N}..”

Oh no, I was far from minding. I snickered at myself and dropped my hands from my face, excusing my behavior, “Crap…! I don’t mean to act like a kid! I haven’t done this and it’s so nerve-wracking!” Red was covering my cheeks once again as I glanced over to see his exposed erection, becoming a flustered heaping pile of mush.

Toge huffed, “That’s why I was saying uh… those commands.. If I keep doing it, will that help?” Sounding so sexually frustrated that I was starting to feel bad for holding out. But, he was suggesting an actual solution that had been working. It made sense.

So, I agreed, “Yeah… actually.” And he cleared his throat with a squint to his eyes, quickly adjusting himself. It was crazy seeing the words really leaving his mouth, “Ride me.” That could go for what he was telling me to do as well.

Feeling my body go on autopilot, both of my legs straddled the sides of Inumaki’s hips, and I began lowering myself until his tip was prodding around my inner thigh. My hand grabbed the base once I struggled for a minute, aligning it against my entrance to ease his shaft into me.

A gasp escaped my lungs, moans cascading afterward while I shakily grabbed onto both of his shoulders, his arms wrapping around my waist to hold and guide me on him. Fucking into me as I bounced lightly. I could feel how small I was for him from his dick refusing to slide out at some points. Like my body was trying to keep him inside.

We groaned in unison, syncing with each other’s movements, my voice pitching when he brushed into a spot that he abused earlier. He memorized where it was and aimed directly for it, his eyebrows knitting together as sweat dripped down from his forehead. It was so good. He felt so good. And he had a look to his face that I would never forget.

After fifteen minutes of doing it out in the open, someone was finally about to walk past and I sensed them barely seconds before they could see us. Pretending to have fell asleep on Toge once the person arrived. His jacket placed over our lower halves.

“What’s up Inumaki? Aaaaannnnd… {Y/N}…” the sound of Maki’s voice made me internally cringe as she seemed like she was getting closer. Making me pray that she wouldn’t get any ideas about what was going on. If she found out, we wouldn’t hear the end of it.

He gave his usual greeting, “Konbu..” Playing it off surprisingly well with the tone of his speech, no stutters whatsoever. Even though I could feel his dick throbbing inside of me and that was not helping my case in fighting against the demand he gave.

I tried to steady my breathing into the soft breaths like I do when I’m about to fall asleep, panicking in my mind, forgetting that Toge can hear, “I want to so badly.! I need to! I need to!” In my defense, I really couldn’t help it. He told me to do it in cursed speech. Every part of my body was screaming at me to, pain coursing through my skin when I denied the action.

Maki’s voice lowered, sounding like she was getting suspicious which terrified me, “What is she doing lying on you like that, Inumaki?” But, I couldn’t think of anything from the burn of the speech curse and it seemed like he knew that. Because even as she was right there and asking him, he began to subtly roll his hips into me, helping relieve it.

The way he said the ingredients in response were getting a bit butchered, “Nntsuna m-mayo..” And his swear word kept slipping when he pushed himself deeper into me, “Ikura…” I held my breath as I tried not to make a single noise. Too hard. Way too hard. This was such a dangerous game to play. But, why did I love it so much?

It seemed like Maki knew something was up from the way she responded, although she didn’t know what, “Ooookay… Well, I’m not going to get any information out of you any time soon.” Keeping it at that, I could make out her energy walking away from us to the other side. A huge wave of relief washed over me as I arched back into a sitting position on him, spreading my legs so he could move more freely. We were right back into it with our lust at an all time high.

Toge did most of the work when it came to it, but he didn’t seem to care. His dedication in making me feel amazing nothing short. Fingers slipping down to play with my bud after I became labored in my moans, edging me closer and closer into cumming again. My walls tightened around him before more of my liquids rushed out onto his lap, becoming a huge mess.

I wanted to apologize for ruining the bottom half of his shirt, but I couldn’t. He wouldn’t let me, continuously ramming into me until he was approaching his own end. There were several actual curses from him inside of his head as he neared it, no longer those innocent food items he loved, “Fuck.. How does it feel so.. tight? Fuck, that feels too good..! Y/N}… I think I’m going to… I need to..!”

Then he pulled out at the very last moment to cum around my lower back, most of it landing on my underwear and sabotaging them like I had with his clothing.

I was exhausted, both of us panting and taking a break by resting on the bench. Pulling up my panties as dirty as that was. I liked to think it was like a finishing touch. I gave him a small peck on the cheek, muttering weakly, “I like you… Toge…” Too shy to say the word ‘Love’ despite what we did just now.

Using the last of my strength, I kept up the connection of our brains to hear him reply back, not hearing a hesitation to his voice in the slightest, “I love you, {Y/N}.” Then I passed out on him quickly after, ironically fulfilling what we feigned earlier.

[honeyhotteoks]

this night together - chapter eleven (j.yh + s.mg)

chapter eleven: a new love song

chapter summary: time, and a well worded letter, heals all wounds. finally, it's time to let go.

warnings: nothing really, social drinking, etc.

notes: reminder that if you're reading this on or around 12.3.23 when it's posted, i'm uploading three chapters at once! if you haven't read chapter ten, go do that before you skip ahead!!

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader

genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory

word count: 5.2k

previous chapter | next chapter | AO3

The party is bright, bursting with light and color and art. You can feel Hongjoong’s presence everywhere from the moment you step through the doors and you almost feel underdressed. You selected your outfit for him, something a little bolder than you’d normally do, but something that truly suits the occasion and the honored guest. You adjust the top of your black trousers and glance down to ensure the cream white blouse that is parted open is still firmly secured with the hidden tape you painstakingly applied.  You hope your lipstick is staying put. 

The listening party for New World’s new mini album is in full swing, but the night is about more than just that. Their tour has ended, everyone back on Korean soil, and it will be the first time anyone will hear the album from start to finish and the first time you’ll be face to face with them again.

Three months of nothing, no contact except the letter. The letter you’ve read about a hundred times. 

You texted Wooyoung, San, and Seonghwa of course, and they mentioned Yunho and Mingi occasionally, but always in the broader context of what they were doing on tour. You saw them in pictures, travel shots on Instagram or Snapchat stories of their nights out, but otherwise nothing. For three months you let it marinate, and your feelings haven’t changed in the slightest. All you have to do now is find them in this crowd and clear the air. 

It’s no surprise you’re as late as you are, your stomach was in knots getting ready and leaving your apartment had you practically coming apart at the seams. The idea of talking to them is simple, but you’ve rehearsed what you want to say over and over and you can’t imagine how they’ll respond. You take a glass of sparkling wine from one of the caterers and realize there are far more people here than you thought there would be. When you pictured a listening party you expected an intimate crowd, but the gallery space KQ rented is full of faces, some you know and some you don’t. You’re pretty sure you’ve missed the album playthrough at this point, you just hope no one’s noticed your absence. 

“You look so good!” A voice from behind you makes you turn, and you smile when you see Dahan in her sparkly wrap dress. 

“So do you,” You give her a quick, friendly hug. 

“This is your first one, right?” She asks, looking past you to find a drink tray. 

“Listening party?” You clarify, “Yeah,” 

“This is definitely the nicest one so far,” She all but whispers to you, “New World is pulling in that tour money now,” 

“Ah,” You nod. 

“Usually it’s at a nice restaurant or something, not quite so many people,” She explains, snagging a drink, “not that I’m complaining, dressing up is fun,” 

“Do you see Hongjoong at all?” You crane your neck and look through some of the bodies, but you can’t really see anyone else you know closely. 

“Mm,” She joins you, “no, but Yujin and some of the others are over there,” 

You follow her gaze, “Perfect,” 

She starts weaving through and you follow, keeping close to her and protecting your drink as you side step around and behind people. 

When you make it to the little circle of BB Trippin dancers, you slot right in alongside Dahan and give everyone a smile, “Hey,” 

Everyone greets you warmly, but you wonder absently where your little pocket of close friends are hiding. Yujin draws your attention though when she says, “Jaemin’s here,” 

“He is?” Your eyes widen. You barely ever see him, but it does make sense that he would attend an opportunity to bump elbows with people in the industry. 

“Mhm,” She nods, “I saw him talking to Yunho earlier.” 

Butterflies curl in your stomach, “Yunho’s here?” 

“Mhm,” She takes a sip of her drink, “somewhere,” 

“You look really nice,” Minseok interrupts, stepping a little closer so you can hear him better, “I like the whole, you know,” he gestures up and down to indicate he means your outfit and you nod. 

“Thanks,” You nod, “you clean up nice too,” 

“Oh yeah?” He shrugs, “Thanks,” 

You start to turn back to Yujin who looks like she has something more to say, but Minseok keeps going, “Have you met Hongjoong?” 

“Oh,” You start. 

“He’s a nice guy,” He continues, “you’d like his vibe, or at least, I think you would,” 

“Actually,” 

“I’m not sure if you know this or not, but it’s his voice that’s on a lot of the initial guide tracks we get,”

You do know that, but you nod and take a long sip of your drink, ice slipping down and connecting with your lip as you tip it back a little further. 

“He’s a bit eccentric,” Minseok continues. 

“Who’s a bit eccentric?” Seonghwa cuts in, stepping into the circle and cutting smoothly between you and Minseok, another drink for you ready in his hands. 

Minseok’s lips close. 

“Hi, Hwa,” You smile, “that for me?” 

“Of course,” He trades your nearly empty glass for the full one and leans in to press a fast kiss on your cheek, “you look beautiful,” 

“Stop,” You resist the urge to actually nudge him in front of too many people and give off the wrong idea about how close the two of you are, but you give him the best withering look you can. 

He ignores you though, “Who’s eccentric?” 

“Oh,” You do your best to keep the smile off your lips, “Minseok was just telling me about Hongjoong,” 

“Mm,” Seonghwa glances to the side at him, “is he?” 

“Artistic might be the right word,” Minseok corrects himself. 

“Well, that’s true,” You nod. 

“Oh,” Minseok blinks, “so you know him?” 

“Well, yes, I,” You start to say but Seonghwa cuts you off. 

“Speak of the devil,” He nods and when you turn you catch sight of Hongjoong heading right for you both. He’s dressed in the most decadent dark blue velvet suit you’ve ever seen, and the combination of that and his freshly dyed blue hair makes him look like more of an idol, not a producer. 

“My ears were burning,” Hongjoong says wryly, and then his eyes flick over you, “I love this,” 

“I thought you might,” You grin, moving forwards to greet him with a hug, “congratulations, Hongjoong, this is all beautiful,” 

“Thank you so much for coming,” He gives you a squeeze, “we keep missing each other for dinner,” 

“I know, I’ve been so busy lately,” You tell him, “but let’s plan something soon,” 

He nods and smiles and then turns his attention to the group, “Thank you all so much for coming,” he says. 

Minseok looks a little put out next to Seonghwa, and you hope you didn’t embarrass him, but he and everyone else greets Hongjoong and they loop through the congratulations on the finished album. Once pleasantries are done, he focuses his attention back on you, “I have someone I want you to meet,” he says. 

“Oh?” 

“Mhm,” His hand settles on your back as he turns to the group, “can I steal these two for a bit?” He nods his head towards you and Seonghwa. 

He doesn’t really wait for permission, he’s just being polite, and he steers you out of the circle and starts walking you back through the crowd closer to the stage area. 

“When did you get in?” Hongjoong asks Seonghwa as you walk. 

“This morning,” He says, “we were supposed to land last night but our flight was so delayed leaving LA,” 

“Thank you for coming anyways,” Hongjoong smiles, “I’m sure you’re exhausted,” 

“It’s fine,” He shrugs it off, “we’ll get back on timezone soon, I’m sure,” 

“Flight was okay otherwise?” You ask, but Seonghwa catches your eye and gives you a knowing smile. 

“Mhm,” He nods, “We’re all home safe and sound, I’m sure everyone else is here somewhere,” 

“Good,” Your throat feels tight, the idea that around one of these corners you’ll find Yunho and Mingi, “that’s good,” 

After three months without any contact, you’re going to have to physically restrain yourself from blurting out how you feel the second you see them. The last time they saw you was awkward at best, and considering the way you left things after the fight, the quickest way to confuse them would be to tell them you want them back with no apology, no preamble. But either way the words still form on your tongue in your imagination, and you’re mid internal monologue when Hongjoong stops walking and brings you back to reality. 

“y/n,” He says, gesturing to the couple across from you, “Seonghwa, I’d like you to meet Choi Jongho and his fiance Kim Eunji,” 

“Oh!” You can’t help the surprised sound that leaves you, “You’re the vocalist Hongjoong has told me so much about!”

Choi Jongho smiles politely, eyes flicking to Hongjoong, but then he nods, “That’s me,” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” You dip your head in quick acknowledgement. 

“So, you’re y/n?” Eunji says before Jongho can finish out the polite greetings and confusion runs through you. 

She’s looking at you with warmth and kindness, and it’s not often that omegas meeting each other for the first time are quite so positive and open. You’re used to a little hesitation, especially when alphas are around, everyone becoming a little territorial in mixed company, but Eunji seems unphased. 

“I am,” You nod as your brain starts to catch up. 

“Hongjoong mentioned you,” She explains at your confused expression, “I was hoping I’d get a chance to say hello,” 

“He did?” 

“Sorry, let me explain,” She smiles, “my little sister is debuting with your company soon,” 

“Oh!” Your brows shoot up and you run through the girls you’ve worked with to realize the common surname, “you’re Jiwoo’s sister?” 

“Yes!” She nods excitedly, “We’re very proud of her,” 

“That’s so nice,” You smile, relaxed now that you understand her abrupt familiarity, “she’s a very good dancer,” 

Eunji beams. 

“She’ll be debuting as main dancer,” Seonghwa nods, “for good reason,” 

Jongho smiles, his hand sweeping a warm line up and down his wife’s back, “Jiwoo says you and the others have been very kind during their preparations,” 

“Well,” You nod, “they’re working very hard, and I’m sure debut must be scary enough, there’s no need to add extra pressure,” 

“It is,” Jongho hums knowingly, and you recall Hongjoong mentioning he was from another idol group that had disbanded. You wonder idly in the back of your mind how difficult it really was for him judging by the brief expression on his face. 

“Exactly,” Hongjoong offers, “I thought you’d all like to meet considering the mutual acquaintance,” 

“Absolutely,” You say, “it’s been lovely,” 

Eunji is about to say something more, but Seonghwa’s hand brushes your upper arm and he leans into your ear, “At the bar,” 

“What?” You glance up at him and he nods past Jongho and Eunji. Your eyes follow his.  

The air leaves your lungs, but you feel Seonghwa’s thumb brush a comforting line over your skin, “Go,” 

“Hwa,”

“If you’ll excuse us,” Seonghwa interrupts you and gives a dazzling smile to your party, “her partners just arrived and it’s been a few months with the tour,” 

You’ll have to have a word with him about his word choice later, you notice the way Hongjoong’s eyes widen, but Jongho and Eunji just nod with understanding. The bond between alphas and their omega isn’t something to be taken lightly, and they take a step back to clear your path. 

You recover just enough to leave with normal pleasantries, “Thank you, sorry to run,” 

“No, no, of course,” Jongho nods, “it was nice to meet you.” 

“If I ever drop by the studio to see Jiwoo,” Eunji adds, “I’ll make sure to say hello,” 

“That would be nice, I look forward to it,” Your body is all but screaming at you to move now. 

“Well,” Seonghwa pushes you forwards, “I’m sure we’ll see each other later on in the evening,” 

Hongjoong says something more but you don’t quite hear it, and suddenly you’re being propelled forwards. Seonghwa dips his head towards you ear, “Good luck, be braver than I would be,” 

And then you’re alone, surrounded by bodies but alone nevertheless. 

You’re not exactly prepared for how you’re going to feel when you see them again. It’s been months, and the first thought that strikes you is how much they’ve changed in such a short time. Mingi looks broader somehow, but his face looks a little thinner and more angular, like he’s lost weight from all the performances and training and travel. Yunho’s hair is a little longer, the back a shaggier against his neck, but intentionally so, and the cut of his jacket makes his shoulders look wider. You want to barrel into their chests and tug them as close to you as you can, but instead you take a steadying breath and just give yourself a second to drink them in. 

You can’t stop yourself from smiling at the way they stand side by side as they wait for their drinks at the bar, and butterflies ripple through you, but despite everything you felt while they were gone there’s no fear. You just missed them, really and truly missed them. 

You’re moving before you consciously think it through and you watch their eyes widen when they see you coming, but it only spurns you on faster until you’re all but crashing into their sides at the bar. 

“Hey,” You’re just so happy to see them you can’t get the grin off your face, “you’re back,” 

“We’re back,” Mingi nods, and you can see the hesitation in his face. 

“I’m,” A million words run through your mind, but you settle on the truth, “so happy to see you,” 

“You are?” Yunho’s brows go high. 

“Yeah,” You step a little closer, letting the words you’ve been holding finally roll off your tongue, “this isn’t the place to talk, but yes, I’m happy to see you, I missed you both.”

Mingi exhales heavily and his lips quirk up. 

Lowering your voice a little more, you hold Mingi’s gaze, “I got your letter,” 

Yunho’s head twists to the side, confusion all over his face as he looks to Mingi for clarity. 

“We should talk,” You want to reach out so badly, but you hold it back for now, “but I wanted you both to know I’m sorry too, and I’m really glad you’re home now,” 

“Me too,” Mingi nods. 

“Good,” You sigh, “that’s good,”

“Are we okay?” Mingi glances between both of you. 

“Yes,” You nod, “I still think we should talk, we left things badly before, but I thought a lot about everything and I don’t want things to be uncomfortable anymore.” 

In the background you hear the speakers cut off the ambient music, and someone taps on a microphone to check that it’s connected. You glance towards the stage and see someone preparing to introduce Hongjoong. 

“Should we go somewhere?” Yunho asks, “Now?” 

The man on stage clears his throat into the microphone. 

You shake your head, “Not tonight, I want to be here for Hongjoong,” 

“Of course,” He backtracks. 

You reach for him this time, resting your hand on his forearm, “But maybe later this week when you’re settled we can just clear the air. I have some things I want to tell you,” 

He swallows tightly, and you can feel that he’s a little nervous but he nods, “Sure,” 

“I just,” You step back and look between them both, “I didn’t want you to stress about coming back to the studio,” 

The relief is palpable between all three of you as Hongjoong takes the stage, and Mingi says, “For a second I was worried you weren’t going to be here,” 

“No, I was just running so late,” You admit. 

“You’ve been okay?” He asks. 

“I am,” You nod, “you both are?”

“Good,” Mingi says. 

“Tired,” Yunho shrugs, and you suppose you can see a little of that in his eyes. 

“Seonghwa said your flights were delayed,” 

“Something like ten hours,” He sighs. 

“Are you sure you’re okay to come back tomorrow already?” You press them, “You’ll be jet lagged,” 

“We’ll be fine,” Yunho smiles a little at your concern, “don’t worry,” 

There’s a pause, a bubbling lull between you, but you can’t keep yourself from saying it, “I really am so glad to see you,” 

“Me too,” Yunho says. 

Mingi nods, but then his eyes flick up and he gestures behind you, “Someone’s looking for you,” 

You check over your shoulder and see Wooyoung lingering nearby and when he catches your eyes he points to his glass and then to you, checking to see if you need another and giving you a smooth out if you need one. You shake your head and turn back to Yunho and Mingi, “I should go,” 

“Okay,” Mingi says. 

You think suddenly if you walk away without making a plan you’ll think of nothing else all night until you can’t sleep, “Saturday,” you blurt out, “are you free?” 

“Yeah,” Yunho says and Mingi nods. 

“Let’s get dinner,” You say it before you can panic and take it back, “you can tell me about tour and I can… I have things I want to tell you,” 

“Just say when and where,” Mingi says, “we’re there.” 

“Okay,” You sigh, “good, perfect,”

You can practically feel Wooyoung hovering at your back and you take a deep breath as you step away, but part of you wishes you could just take Yunho up on his offer to get out of here. 

“y/n,” Yunho smiles a little, stopping you in your tracks, “you look happy,” 

“I am happy,” You tell him honestly. 

“That’s good,” He breathes. 

“Saturday,” You nod, “I’ll catch you both up on Saturday,” 

You see a flicker of something in Mingi’s expression, but then he smiles, “Wouldn’t miss it,” 

You turn before you lose your nerve and run straight into Wooyoung carrying two full glasses of champagne. 

“Everything okay?” He asks, pushing a glass into your hands, some of the bubbling liquid spilling over the sides and over your fingers. 

“Good,” You assure him, tugging him away from the bar and towards the back wall where you can talk to him unobserved. 

“I wasn’t sure if you needed rescuing,” 

“I didn’t,” You tell him, “I was doing fine,” 

“Shit,” He grimaces, “did I fuck up your moment?” 

“No, no,” You shake your head, “we’re meeting on Saturday, I’m going to talk to them then,” 

Something’s a little hurried in his face though, his eyes glancing past you again and again, and you can feel that he’s not exactly present. 

“Woo,” You start but he locks his eyes with yours and cuts you off. 

“I think I just met the love of my life,” He stammers, “I might fucking faint,” 

“What?” You hush him, pressing him back into the wall behind you, “Are you serious?” 

“I’m not going to faint for real,” He swats your hands away, “but I don’t know, y/n, I can’t breathe. My fucking chest is tight,” 

“Holy shit,” You manage. 

“I know,” He nods, “I know,” 

“You’re not close to your heat are you?” You probe him, wondering if you need to make a break for San and Seonghwa. 

“No,” He shakes his head, laying a cool hand on his flushed cheeks, “it’s nothing like that,” 

You nod relieved, “Well, then what happened?” 

“Okay,” He takes a long steadying breath, “you see that guy on stage? The one to the left of Hongjoong?” 

“Choi Jongho?” Your voice spikes up and he shushes you frantically. 

“No, oh my god,” He waves his hand to get your volume down, “he’s engaged, y/n, no, the other one,” 

You look to the left of Jongho and take in the third man on stage. He’s the one who introduced Hongjoong, his voice low and velvety soft. He has long blonde hair that brushes his collar bones, the top half gathered into a messy but chic bun. You can tell from here he’s handsome, devastatingly so, with a cool expression and his lips parted just enough to make you wonder how he kisses. 

“Oh,” You nod, “got it,” 

“Exactly,” He runs a panicked hand through his own hair. 

“He’s an alpha?” You surmise, “Did you catch his scent or,” 

Wooyoung’s shaking his head frantically before he can finish his words, “He’s a beta,” 

You can’t control the surprise in your expression, Wooyoung’s only ever really gone for alphas. It makes sense, most omegas do, considering the hindbrain of it all, but Wooyoung’s looking about as wrecked as you’ve ever seen someone. 

On stage, Hongjoong gestures towards the two men on his left and you switch your focus from Wooyoung’s whining panic to the man addressing the crowd, “I have one more announcement to make tonight,” he says, “something that would not have been possible to announce without Choi Jongho. I don’t think I need to tell you what a talent he is and how lucky we are at KQ to have brought him on. We have a preview of something we’d like to share, once again, something I felt very creatively supported in by Kang Yeosang,”

“That’s him,” Wooyoung hisses next to your ear and you refocus, “Kang Yeosang,” 

“Shh!” You hush him, but by the time you can hear Hongjoong again, he’s moved on to announcing that he’s going to preview Jongho’s new single, and you roll your eyes to refocus on Wooyoung, “So who’s this guy?” 

“Creative director,” He explains quickly, “album art, concepts, the works.” 

“Damn,” You manage. 

“He’s so fucking smart, y/n, you have no idea,” He breathes. 

“So you actually talked to him?”

“Talked to him?” He laughs, “I had his cock down my throat like thirty minutes ago,” 

“Jesus Christ, Wooyoung, that’s too much information,” You smack his arm. 

He rolls his eyes and continues, “We bumped into each other in the hall, like physically bumped into each other. I spilled my drink all down his nice white shirt,” 

The shirt Yeosang is wearing is still crisp white, so you assume there’s more to this story before he even keeps going. 

“I felt like an idiot,” He admits, “pulled him into the bathroom and told him I could fix it right up with a little club soda,” 

“Okay,” 

“He barely said anything at first,” Wooyoung continues, “I was just rinsing his shirt out while he stood there half naked looking like Michalangelo or something,” 

“I don’t think Michaelangelo was very cut,” You smirk. 

“The statute,” He swats you, “you know the one, don’t fuck with me,” 

“Okay, fine, go on,” 

“Anyway,” He sighs, “I was just talking, keeping the conversation going, fucking babbling while I washed out his shirt and then before I knew it he had me pressed up against the mirror with his tongue down my throat,” 

“Wow,” 

“One thing led to another,” He blushes again, “and then we just talked while I finished drying his button down,” 

“Wow, again,” You breathe. 

“I know,” He breathes, “I’ve never felt like this,” 

“Okay,” You squeeze his hand, “but, Woo, this is a good thing,” 

“I know, but I’m kind of fucking terrified,” He admits, “is this how you felt?”

“Pretty much,” 

“It’s awful,” He admits. 

“Tell me about it,” 

The crowd around you starts clapping, the speeches are over, and the men on stage start to head down the side steps to rejoin the crowd as the single begins to play. Everyone in the room is listening attentively to the music except you and Wooyoung. 

“What are you going to do?” You ask him, your voice low. 

“Go home with him,” Wooyoung checks his watch and then presses his untouched glass of champagne into your hands, “I’ve got to go,”

“Whoa,” You shake your head, “are you sure that’s a good idea?” 

“I’m a big boy,” He rolls his eyes again. 

“Text me his number, and his address,” You insist, “and check in with me tomorrow. If you don’t, I’m calling Seonghwa and San.” 

“Oh my god, please don’t do that.” He grimaces, texting you Yeosang’s contact information anyways. 

“Don’t make me,” You tell him. 

“Fine,” 

“Have fun, please be safe,” You’d take his hand, but yours are full of champagne. You hope the genuineness of your expression gets your point across to him. 

“I will,” he promises, “and I’ll call you. We’ll talk all about Saturday too, I just,” 

“I get it,” You nod, “honestly, I do,” 

“Thank you,” His eyes soften, “and please, don’t tell San and Seonghwa. Not yet,” 

“I won’t,” You assure him, “just go, be happy,” 

“You too, okay?” He smiles, “Whatever it is, you do it. You deserve it after all this,” 

Your stomach warms at that, and you know he’s right, you just want to do this the right way for once. Over Wooyoung’s shoulder you see the blonde man in question smoothly cutting his way through the crowd, and you nod towards him, “Get out of here, I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” 

He’s gone without another word, just a rushed smile as he weaves his way towards Yeosang, a bright and beaming grin now on his face. He’s a goner, you can see it clear as day. A brief flickering question passes through your mind of how this might affect his dynamic with Seonghwa and San, but given the way your best friend is lit up from the inside it doesn’t even matter. If you deserve to be happy like that, so does he, however it happens. 

With Wooyoung gone, you take a moment to survey the room, but you can’t find your group anymore. You see people from KQ you recognize, but your normal BB Trippin group is nowhere in sight and Yunho and Mingi are no longer towering over everyone at the end of the bar. You listen to the rest of the new single, something soulful and rooted in R&B just like Hongjoong had described to you all those months ago. 

As you listen to the crooning love song, your mind loops through the encounter with Yunho and Mingi, of every microexpression and you get lost in your plans for Saturday yet again. How you’ll tell them you’re sorry, how you’re ready to move on and to be honest with one another. How much you still want them, that you might love them. 

You don’t know how long you’re standing there by the back wall, thoughts tumbling over what-ifs when you’re brought back to reality. 

“Tough night?” A voice makes you jump, a little more champagne dipping out of your glasses as you turn to the side. 

“Hey, Minseok,” You laugh a little, “you scared me,” 

“Sorry,” He smiles, begging off, “I just meant the two drinks, and you know, hiding in the corner,” 

“Oh,” You shake your head, “no, Wooyoung ran off and stuck me with his glass. Do you want?” You offer it to him. 

“Sure,” He nods, smoothly taking the glass from your hands. 

You take a quick sip from yours and clear your throat softly, “So, enjoying the party?” 

He nods, “It’s nice, but honestly I was just about to get out of here and call it a night,” 

“Me too,” You nod. You’d try to say goodbye to Hongjoong, but he’s been tied up all evening mingling, and without any of your friends in sight it seems as good a time as any to slip out. 

“Let me walk you out,” He offers, plucking the champagne from your fingertips and placing both glasses on one of the nearby side service tables. 

You probably would have finished it, and a flicker of annoyance passes through you, but you let it pass and nod, “Sure,” 

You’re not far from the door, and he organizes grabbing both of your checked jackets as he makes small talk, “Are you taking the train or,” 

“I’ll probably order a car,” You usually do when it’s late like this and you’ve had a few drinks despite the extra cost. 

“Me too,” He nods, passing your jacket over. 

You shrug it on and search for something to say, but Minseok isn’t as forthcoming and chatty as some of the other dancers, “Do you live closeby?” 

“More towards Itaewon,” He zips his jacket and gestures towards the exit doors that will lead you out onto the street. 

“Mm,” You nod, pushing through the doors. 

“You know, we could,” Minseok starts to say, but the minute you step aside you finally see some familiar faces. 

“There you are!” You smile, and your familiar group of dancers turns at your voice. 

Minseok says something else, but you don’t quite catch it and you spin to apologize quickly over your shoulder before rejoining your friends. 

“I thought you left,” San ushers you over to their group. 

“Good timing,” Seonghwa adds, “my car’s not far, you want a ride?” 

“Sure,” You nod, you’ll never turn down a less expensive rideshare. 

Yunho and Mingi are talking with Jaemin at the edge of the group, but you catch Mingi’s glancing eye and give him a smile. It’s impossible to just smooth over your last real conversation with them, but you’re trying to signal in every little way that you want to move past it, that his letter meant something. You’ll lay out the rest for them as soon as you get them alone. 

He smiles back, quickly catching that you’re about to leave and you can see that he wants to step away from the conversation he’s having about some missteps from the tour. 

“Have you seen Wooyoung?” San asks, bringing your attention back. 

“For a second,” You nod, but look away from quickly as you try to tell a vague white lie, “I think he already split,” 

He hums, but then Seonghwa gently taps your back, “Car,” 

“Oh, perfect,” You step with him and turn to the group, “goodnight everyone, see you in the morning!” 

Dahan and San both give quick, small waves. 

“Goodnight,” Mingi says, his conversation stuttering to a pause so he can address you, “see you,” 

“See you tomorrow,” Yunho adds, nodding. 

Your stomach feels like it might flutter right out of your body. 

“I’ll have him drop you first,” Seonghwa says as he helps you into the car, jogging to the opposite side to get in himself. 

As the car pulls away you feel lighter than you have in months, and seeing them again makes everything feel so much more sure. They’re real, they’re back, and they want to see you too. Everything else falls to the side, for once the path forwards is crystal clear. 

[something-tofightfor]

On Deck Part 4: Starting Line-Up

Pairing: Jack Daniels x Female Reader Baseball AU

Word Count: 10,185

Rating: M - language, some mentions of past sexual situations, pining (but is it mutual?)

Summary: In the days following Jack's first visit to your place, you're forced to think through just about every possible future scenario. And when he makes an offer you're not expecting, you start to believe that there might be just a little more to it than sex for him.

Author’s notes: 

I absolutely love this chapter. If you skip ahead to the end, there's a picture included to describe the type of view Reader has. I know not everyone is familiar with baseball stadiums and the opportunities they offer for seating, but I also don't want to ruin it too early.

This chapter ALSO features Jack wearing the uniform in this artwork - and is the entire reason this AU was started.

(On Deck universe masterlist for all the extras!)

While there are a lot of baseball references within this story, you only need to know the basics to enjoy it and understand what's going on - we're not getting overly technical here.

As always, if you have any questions or comments, please feel free to reach out.

The starting line-up is the official list of players who participate from the beginning of the game onward. This may change throughout the season, as players leave due to or return from an injury. Starters are usually the team's best players at their respective positions, and as a result, being a starter often comes with notoriety A spot in the starting line-up is hard-earned. 

You didn’t hear from Jack the following day, but you didn’t expect to. 

Not because you thought he’d used you, but because you knew how busy he’d be between driving to meet with the team in Louisville and then heading back to The Cavalry and playing in that night’s game. 

All day, though, you thought about him - and about the previous day… and night.

Your experience with Jack was different than those you’d read about online, or heard about at games. He’d treated you as an equal, giving you a legitimate explanation as to why he did and didn’t do or want certain things in bed. He hadn’t flaunted his status or reputation throughout the night, and his interaction with the girl at the ice cream parlor proved that Jack was focused on giving kids a good experience when they met him no matter where he was. It’s not just when he’s in uniform. 

You opted to work instead of taking the day off like you’d planned, and he was on your mind as you did so. The memory of his voice rasping in your ear and the feeling of his mouth on your bare skin sent shivers through you while you were poring over spreadsheets and drafting emails, and it made the day go much faster. By the time you were done for the night, you were almost vibrating, the truth of what had happened settling in. 

You’d slept with Jack Daniels. 

You’d met him for something he’d clarified wasn’t a date, and invited him back to your place without a second thought. He’d been nothing but kind to you, and you hadn’t felt that he thought less of you for being so forward. There was a small part of you that wondered if he thought you were easy. But he’s known for being a flirt. He’s been with a lot of people throughout his career, and … 

There was no way to know for sure what was going to happen until you heard from Jack again. You’d need to see how he acted the next time you spoke before you could assume anything - though with Jack, you figured it wasn’t safe to assume at all. 

You wanted to tell Erin what had happened. You wanted her to know everything, because in reality, it was thanks to Caleb that you were even in the position to meet Jack in the first place. But it felt wrong to talk about the not-date, and even more wrong to kiss and tell… so you held off.

And when you woke up on Tuesday morning to a text message from Jack, you were glad that you’d kept quiet. 

Check my Instagram. 

Before even sitting up, you did, groaning at the sight of his newest picture - a promotional shot for that weekend’s games, featuring a close up of his nickname on the back of a bright yellow jersey, the tip of his black bat’s barrel visible where it rested on his shoulder.

When do I get to see the whole thing? 

You double tapped the picture after replying, and didn’t expect a response. But Jack started typing back immediately, his message a completely unexpected one. 

Friday, if you come to the game. 

“Is that an invitation?” Blinking at your phone, you chewed on your lower lip. It seemed like it. It seemed like Jack was making good on his promise that you’d see each other again because he wanted to. But this time, it wasn’t to meet for ice cream. Instead, it was a personal invitation to his first game back with The Statesman. 

This weekend has been sold out for weeks, Jack. I’ll need to find a ticket, but I’ll see what I can do. 

You didn’t have a chance to open a search for tickets before your phone was ringing, Jack’s name on the screen. What the fuck? Why is he calling me? Taking a few seconds to compose yourself, you took a deep breath before answering. “Hello?” 

“‘Morning, sunshine.” He laughed and then scoffed. “That was real cheesy, right?”

“A little.” But you were laughing, too. “You’re up early.” 

“Have to stay on schedule during the season.” He paused and cleared his throat. “And I’ve got some packing to do before I come back to Louisville.” So he’s cleared. “I’ll be back for Friday night for sure.” 

“That’s great, Jack.” You rubbed at your eye with one hand. “Bet you’re happy.”

“I am. I miss my bed.” You didn’t know how to answer him, but he spoke again before the silence stretched for too long. “And about a ticket … I can get you in on Friday.” What? “Actually…” He trailed off, and a few seconds later, Jack sighed. “Do you think your friend and her brother would want to come with you?”

“I can see. I’m not sure. It’s a Friday night, so she’s probably going to be with her boyfriend, but -”

“Invite him too.” Jack said your name. “Give me a couple hours, and I’ll let you know for sure, but four of you shouldn’t be a problem.” 

“You don’t have to do that, Jack.” Sitting up straight, you held your phone tightly with one hand. “It’s -”

“I know.” You could tell that he was smiling, and when Jack spoke again, you heard the laughter in his voice. “I want to.” You didn’t argue, lifting your free hand and biting down on one knuckle. I want you to, too. “I know you’ve gotta work today, but can I call you back later? I need to make sure I’ve got tickets, and -”

“Of course. I’ve got a meeting at 11:30, but aside from that, I’ll be able to answer all day.” 

You hung up soon after that, Jack telling you to have a good morning and you repeating the same back to him. But you didn’t get out of bed right away, instead lowering your phone and staring at the ceiling in shock. What the fuck did I get myself into? 

— 

He called back a little after 1 PM, his cheerful voice loud in your ear. “Tickets are yours. All you’ll have to do is go to Will Call and give ‘em your name and they’ll be able to help you.” 

“Four of them?” He confirmed. “Thank you, Jack. I wasn’t… I didn’t think you’d…” 

“Well I did. And you’re welcome. I hardly ever ask for anything, and the ticket lady the players talk to loves me, so this was easy.” But the confirmation that you had tickets raised an issue for you - and it required you to explain it to Jack. 

“Erin’s going to ask how I got them.” Leaning back in your chair, you stared up at the ceiling. “And I don’t want to lie to her.” 

“So don’t.” His tone was matter of fact, Jack’s next words shocking you. “Tell her I got them for you.” But that will bring up what happened the other day. “Didn’t you tell her you were goin’ out with me last weekend?”

“No. I didn’t tell anyone.” He was silent in response, which surprised you a little. Why is that a shock to him? Did he really think I’d tell people? “That’s not my style, Jack.” 

“I appreciate that, darlin’.” It made you smile again, especially with the way his voice dropped as he spoke the word. “But you tell her whatever you need to. You don’t need to keep me a secret.” 

“I don’t think I need to tell her everything to offer her tickets to a game, but I’ll keep that in mind.” He laughed at you, the sound turning into a groan - and you savored the sound of it, biting your lip before you continued. “I’ll let you know for sure after I talk to her, but I’ll definitely be there on Friday even if they’re not.” 

“Good. That’s real good.” Jack cleared his throat. “I’m gettin’ ready to go to the stadium now, so if I don’t answer, that’s why.” He doesn’t need to explain himself to me. I don’t… why is he doing this? “Talk to you soon?”

“Sure.” Your smile widened, and when the two of you hung up a few seconds later, you tossed your phone down onto your desk. Shit. 

Things were escalating quickly, thanks to Jack taking the initiative - and it stunned you. He hadn’t mentioned seeing you again, though, which gave you pause. But he’s going to be busy before Friday, and then he’s got games all weekend, so there might not be time. Maybe that’s why he didn’t suggest it.

A quick check of the schedule told you that the team was leaving for a short road trip on Sunday afternoon, which meant that he’d be on the go almost immediately. So it makes sense. I’ll just see him from the seats. 

It was somewhat disappointing, there was no way around it. But the fact that he’d invited you in the first place cheered you up enough that you reached for your phone again, opening your messages with Erin. 

Hey, got something to ask you. Call me when you’re done with work? 

— 

Her phone call came just after 5 that day, Erin’s greeting friendly but curious before she jumped right in. “You usually don’t ask to ask me things. Why today?” 

“What are you doing Friday?” Tilting your head back, you closed your eyes and enjoyed the heat of the sun on your face. “Friday night, I mean. After work?” 

“Troy and I were going to go to dinner, but that’s about it.” Perfect. “Why? What are you doing on Friday?” 

“Do you want to go to the Statesman game?” You paused, opening your eyes and looking out at your yard. “You and Troy and Caleb?” She was quiet for a few seconds and you were too, waiting. “I’ve got four tickets, and -”

“Isn’t it Players Weekend? I thought it was sold out. Caleb’s been talking about it for like a month.” 

“It is. And yeah, it’s sold out. But I was offered tickets. Free tickets.” 

“From where?” There it is. “Did they reach out because they saw your post about Caleb and Jack?” You thought of Jack’s words - of him telling you to tell Erin, of his assurances that it was alright for you to talk about knowing him. I’m still not going to tell her everything, but … 

“No. It wasn’t the team, Erin. It was Jack.” You heard her intake of breath, but before she could say anything, you continued. “He messaged me after he saw it the other day, and we ended up going out on Sunday night for -”

“You what?!” She screeched the words in your ear and then laughed. “Shut the fuck up.” 

“We went and got ice cream. He was up here to work out with the team and to take pictures for next weekend, and had no plans, so…” 

“So you went out with him. Fuck me, that’s wild. I told you making that post was worth it. So you went out on a date and then he offered you tickets for another game? Why four? Why not just -”

“I’m not sure.” Standing, you stepped out onto the grass, the blades of it cool against your feet. “But he called me this morning and suggested it. He specifically mentioned you and Caleb, but I have no idea where the tickets are, so I can’t promise anything.” 

“He called you? He must like you.” She laughed, the sound turning into a hum. “What else happened Sunday aside from the ice cream?” She was teasing you - and there was no concrete reason for you to answer her, but you did anyway. 

“He came back here for a little while.” Curling your toes, you let out a long sigh. “He didn’t stay the night, though. So -”

“Good for you.” She said your name, waiting until you were quiet to say anything else. “And now he’s offering you tickets. You definitely made an impression.” Your mind wandered back to the time you’d spent with him - to the way his mouth felt as it met yours and the way his hands skated over your skin as they explored your body. He definitely left an impression on me. “I don’t think we should tell Caleb where the tickets are coming from, because he’ll never let you hear the end of it.” She hummed, the woman clearly thinking on her end of the line. “But we’ll go on Friday. It sounds fun.”

“We can take one car. I’ll pick you up.” Walking back to your patio, you paused at the edge of it. “And … Erin? Maybe don’t tell Troy either. Jack said that I could tell you that they’re from him, but I don’t … I don’t know what’s going on, so -”

“My lips are sealed.” She laughed again. “I do have one question, though.” I can already tell this is going to be a doozy. “What’s he like? He handsy? Does he talk a lot? How does he kiss?”

“He’s … thorough.” Your cheeks heated as you spoke, your fingers curling around your phone. Very thorough. “And I would very much like to kiss him again.” A lot. Erin snorted at your reply, muttering the words I knew it under her breath. “He’s nice, Erin. Confident and a little cocky, but not insufferable about it. A little girl interrupted us while we were eating, and he didn’t get mad. He took a couple minutes to talk to her about baseball, and it was just …a relief, I guess? I don’t know. I’m glad he’s not an asshole.” 

“I am too. That would be really disappointing.” It would. “But I’m going to drive home now. Work kicked my ass today, and I need to eat.” She let you know that she’d get ahold of you after she talked to Troy and Caleb, and then you hung up, deciding to go back inside so that you could start dinner, too. 

While you cooked, you sent a message to Jack, giving him an update. You kept it simple, giving yourself no time to overthink your words. 

Erin’s in. Looks like it’ll be all four of us Friday. 

You figured he wouldn’t reply, but your phone vibrated a few minutes later with his answer. 

Real happy to hear that. It’s gonna be a good game. 

You thought that was it, but moments later another message came through - and there was a picture attached to it. Second to last time I’m putting on this uniform.

It was slightly blurry and off-center, but it was of Jack. He was dressed in his uniform and missing his hat, the grin on his face wide. You looked closer, seeing that he was standing in front of his locker, and realized that he’d likely taken the photo only moments before sending it. That means it was for me, and… “Shit.” 

If he’d sent you a photo, that meant he was probably waiting for a reply. You didn’t keep him waiting, sending back a winking emoji along with the text: Looking good, Jack - DAMN. But I think I prefer your other uniform. 

It was just flirty enough to let him know you appreciated it, and not over the top the point he’d think you were being clingy. But after a few minutes, you saw that the message had been delivered - and unread … which meant he’d see it after the game. And that means I have a few hours to relax. 

But you didn’t relax. Instead, you ate dinner on the couch and tried not to think too hard about the Friday night game. 

— 

You were a few minutes early to Erin’s on Friday, and Caleb was already waiting in the front yard when you pulled up. 

You heard him yelling for Erin and Troy, even with the windows shut. By the time he was reaching for the door handle, you were laughing, head tilted down and one palm flat against your forehead. “Hey, Caleb. Let me guess… you’re excited.” 

“Of course I am.” He settled into the back seat, buckling in. “Aren’t you? Won’t be as cool as what happened the last game, but my mom gave me money to buy a new jersey.” Well, for me, it’s even more cool, but you don’t know that.

“Oh yeah?” You caught his eye in the rearview mirror, grinning. “Whose are you gonna get?” The look on his face was answer enough, just like you’d assumed. “Jack, then. Hopefully they have one in your size.” 

Erin and Troy approached the car, the woman letting him pass her so that he could sit in the back with Caleb while she took her place next to you. But it was him that spoke first, greeting you and reaching forward to squeeze your shoulder before he was fully situated. “Thank you for driving. And thanks for the tickets.” 

“Yeah, thank you!” Caleb joined in, nodding enthusiastically. “Mom also said we’re supposed to -”

“My mother,” Erin interjected, reaching for the volume knob to twist the radio’s sound lower. “She said we’re supposed to buy you dinner tonight, as a thank you.” 

“It’s not necessary.” Heading down the street, you shrugged. “It’s not like I paid for these tickets, so if we split parking, it’s even.” 

“Still.” She elbowed you. “We’re going to buy you dinner and maybe a drink or two.” I might need those.

The four of you made small talk on the drive downtown, though the closer you got to the stadium, the quieter you got while they kept things going. Why am I nervous? It’s not like I’m going to run into him. 

But there was a chance you’d see him, and that Jack would see you. It seemed inevitable that Caleb would want to go back down closer to the field in an attempt to meet the man a second time. And if that happened, you couldn’t just hang back with Erin, letting Troy sit with the boy. No. I’d have to go, otherwise it looks like I’m avoiding him after he did something nice for us today. 

You were early enough that there was still available parking in the attached garage, and before you could do anything about it, Troy stuck his hand out the window, debit card held firmly between his fingers. 

Erin laughed about it as you pulled away to park, but all you managed was a tiny smile and quiet thank you before slipping into a space. Here goes nothing. 

The four of you joined the slow trickle of other fans heading toward the elevators. After getting on, Caleb inserted himself between Erin and Troy while you leaned against the far wall, chewing on your lower lip. 

“We have to go to Will Call first.” You looked at the preteen, raising a brow. “We can’t just run to get in line like last time.” 

He grumbled back that he knew, and you laughed, your mood lightening considerably. And as your group exited the elevator and turned toward where the ticketing windows were, you stayed that way. Troy offered to wait with Caleb so you weren’t all crowding the line, and you agreed, thankful for a few minutes of time alone with your friend. 

“He’s going to want to go and meet the players.” She spoke quietly, leaning closer to you. “What happens when you see -”

“Nothing.” You shrugged, taking a breath. “Or, nothing weird, I hope. He seems like the kind of guy that wouldn’t make a big deal of what happened.” 

“What about you?” You stepped forward, only a few people between you and the windows. “Can you be cool about it?”

“I’d hope so.” You looked over at her, grinning. “It wasn’t awkward when he left, so I think I did pretty well there.” She didn’t say anything else until it was your turn, Erin stepping forward with you and waiting to see what you’d say. “Hi. I’m supposed to have some tickets waiting for me. I think I’m on a list?” 

The man behind the glass nodded. “I’ll need to see your ID.” Reaching into your bag, you pulled your wallet out and then handed the thin card over, sliding it through the opening. He took it and started typing, his eyes on the computer screen in front of him. “Oh.” He hummed, tipping his head to the side, and then reached for the phone beside the device. “Hey, we need to send someone from SL down to ticketing to pick up a group.” 

You glanced over at Erin, confused, but her expression was the same as yours. SL? What’s that? Turning your head, you looked over at Caleb and Troy, the little boy seated on a stone wall while he looked up to talk to the man. Why do we need to be picked up? The sound of your name got your attention, and you looked back at the window, sucking in a breath. “Yeah? Sorry. I -”

“If you and your group will step off to the side by the door,” he pointed, still smiling. “Someone will be down in a few minutes to escort you in.” He slid your ID back to you. “Have a good night.” You thanked him, somewhat dazed, and turned toward the door, Erin close behind you. 

“We didn’t get tickets? What happens now? What did -” 

“Fuck if I know, Erin. I have no idea what’s going on.” She waved her brother and fiance over, the two of them meeting you moments later. 

“What’s going on? Where are the tickets?” Troy looked between you, frowning. “Do we need to -”

“Someone’s coming to get us.” You stuffed your hands into the pockets of your shorts. “I know nothing else.” Jack had seemed certain that he had tickets available for you, so you weren’t worried about getting into the stadium, but as to whatever else happened, you were clueless. Maybe it’s one of the lower sections. Maybe it’s the club section and we need wristbands or something. 

No one had anything else to say, and by the time the door opened a minute or so later, you were even more confused. But the woman - who introduced herself as Mary - put you at ease. “Welcome to Players Weekend.” She opened the door fully, greeting you by name. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to your seats for the game.” Sneaking a look at your friends after you thanked her, you caught Erin’s eye, the woman’s gleaming with intrigue. “It’s a little busy tonight, so make sure you stay close.” 

You did - following Mary as she led you down a short hallway and then through another set of doors and onto the lower concourse. You felt better one you were inside with the crowd, the thought that since you were in the stadium, that was all that mattered crossing your mind. 

But your thoughts blanked as she led the four of you toward a third set of doors and used a badge hanging from her belt to unlock them. “Where are we going?” Caleb broke the silence, the boy pushing forward to stand next to you. “I’ve never been in here before.” 

“This is the entrance to the dugout suites.” Mary looked down at him, her smile gentle. “Not many people have been in them before.” The dugout suites? Freezing at her words, your mouth dropped open. Jack, what did you do? “Come on. Yours is one of the cozier ones, but it’s one of my personal favorites.” A fucking suite? 

You walked down another hallway, the space curving to follow the shape of the stadium, and you realized that you were heading toward the Statesman’s dugout. Your head whipped to the side and you saw that Troy had put that together, too, his eyes wide and his grin threatening to split his face. “A suite? Right by where the players are?” Caleb was next to Mary, the boy’s voice loud. “Why are we -” 

“I don’t know.” She stopped in front of a door that had the words CHAMPAGNE LOUNGE engraved onto a golden plaque next to the team’s logo before reaching for the keycard again “But I do know that you’re going to have an amazing time.” She swiped the card and the light turned green. “Go ahead. Open the door.” Caleb looked back at you and you nodded, lips pressed together in a thin line. 

He opened the door and cautiously peeked inside, but as soon as he saw something, he darted in, leaving the rest of you standing in the hallway. Erin called after him, rushing forward and following him inside, but Mary only laughed, pushing the door all the way open and gesturing for you to follow. 

“The view is incredible, I don’t blame him for being excited.” 

She wasn’t lying. The entire back wall of the suite was windows so that the field stretched out in front of you, a cluster of seats on a small porch visible through the tinted glass. Caleb was busy pulling the door open to get to where they were, but you stopped just inside of the room, shaking your head. “This is too much, I just …” 

“My advice?” Mary looked at you, raising her eyebrow. “Enjoy it.” I will, but… “This is the Champagne Lounge.” 

“As in the team owner?” Troy stepped forward, arms crossed. “That Champagne?”

“Yes.” Mary nodded, giving you a wink. “He chose the decor, so that’s not on us, but …” You really looked around for the first time and had to bite back a laugh at the way it was decorated. I mean it makes sense, but … 

Everything was rustic and warm, the countertops and table surfaces made from gleaming wood. The floor looked a little rougher and worn, and you saw a few small area rugs scattered throughout the space, which made it more inviting. “You have a full menu available to you.” She moved toward the counter, picking up a small binder. “There are snacks and drinks along the back wall,” she pointed with one hand, flipping the pages open. “Left fridge is water and soda. The other is filled with beer, and there are a couple bottles of the Statesman/Whiskey collaboration for you to use.” He shield the binder up. “But if you want other kinds of mixed drinks, they’re all in here and you can order them to be delivered. Same with the food options.”

“How much -”

“Everything is complimentary.” Her smile was soft. “You’ll have an attendant that will come and check on you once I’ve let them know you’re in here, and they’ll be available whenever you need them through the tablet on the counter. But anything in this menu is fair game.” 

It made your head spin. You’d assumed that you’d have tickets somewhere decent - maybe in the lower level - but hadn’t ever even dreamed that Jack would get you a suite, much less Champ’s suite. 

“There’s also something for you in that box over there.” Mary gestured toward a white, rectangular box that was sitting on a small side table. What the hell is that? “There’s a bathroom back here,” she pointed at the side wall, and then put her hand on her hip. “The door does lock if you go out into the hallway, so once all of you leave the suite, you can’t get back in.” 

“Ok.” You nodded, blinking slowly. “It’s taking me a little while to catch up. This is … I wasn’t expecting these seats, and …” She laughed, asking if there was anything else you needed, and when you said no, she turned away and headed for the door, letting you know that someone else would be in a few minutes later. 

And once she was gone, you finally exhaled, covering your face with both hands. “You must have done something right. This is fucking insane!” Erin put her hands on your shoulders, saying your name. “How did -”

“I don’t know.” Biting your lip, you shook your head rapidly. “I have no fucking idea, this is …” 

“Are you guys coming out here?” Caleb poked his head in, his eyes bulging. “You can see the whole place. We’re right next to the dugout. I can see the steps where the players walk out onto the field!” Troy took a few steps forward and Erin followed, looking back at you. 

“Give me a second.” You could tell she was worried, but she still went, leaving you alone in the interior of the suite. After spinning slowly around to take everything in, you reached for your phone, fingers shaking as you opened your text with Jack. The last message was from him, sent hours earlier - and telling you to enjoy the game. 

You didn’t know what to think. You wanted to let him know you were grateful, but didn’t trust your voice not to waver in a voice message. So you settled for raising the device and taking a selfie, the suite and field visible behind you. 

This is too much, Jack. But thank you. I don’t even know what else to say. 

He was likely getting ready in the locker room - and you didn’t know if he’d even see the message before taking the field. But he’ll see it later. And he’ll see what time I sent it. You were just getting ready to put your phone away and join your friends when a message popped up on the screen. 

You’re welcome. But where’s your jersey? 

“What jersey?” You hadn’t ever told him that you owned one, but when your eyes flicked over to the white box again, your stomach dropped. He didn’t. Leaving your phone on the counter, you approached the box, dimly aware of the sounds of your friends talking through the open door. Using both hands, you lifted the lid, swearing as the contents came into view. “Jesus, Jack. What the fuck.” 

There was a note sitting atop the bright yellow fabric, and with unsteady hands you reached for it, heart pounding while you read the words. 

(Note text: Couldn’t start the game dirty. Thought you might want this though. JD)

You lifted it out of the box, holding it up in front of you. Immediately, your eyes were drawn to a black smudge on one shoulder, and you laughed as you realized what it was from. He’s worn this. 

It was the jersey he’d worn in the promo shots, and the smudge was from the bat where it had rested on his shoulder. And I get to keep it? 

Before you could second guess yourself, you pulled the jersey on over the clothing you wore, leaving it unbuttoned. Shivering at the thought that the last person to have worn it was him, you leaned back over and grabbed your phone before heading outside. 

Erin’s eyes widened at the sight of you, and Troy also looked surprised, but after a swift shake of the head from your friend, he stayed quiet. Please do. I don’t want to talk about this right now. 

Caleb was standing on one of the seats, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the ledge in front of him. Instead of saying anything to your friends, you focused on him, calling out his name. “We got a pretty good view, hmm?”

“Yeah. The on deck circle is right there. Theres a net in the way, but it doesn’t matter. We’ll get to watch everyone while they wait to hit.” What? You crossed the small space and stood next to him, also resting your elbows on the ledge. “Do you think I can take pictures of the batters?”

“I don’t see why not.” You eyed the ground in front of you, the Statesman logo almost mocking you. It’s so close. He’s going to be right there before he bats. “Just make sure the flash is off. I feel like it would be pretty distracting otherwise.” He agreed with you, nodding. 

“Hey, take a picture of us.” Erin leaned forward, holding her phone out. “We’ll send it to my mom.” You did as she asked, taking a few of the three of them standing in front of the netting. It was only then that Caleb saw what you were wearing, the boy asking you question after question that you answered with partial truths. 

You didn’t want to lie to him, but knew Erin was right; telling Caleb that you and Jack were in contact wasn’t a good idea. Not yet. Not until I know more about what this is. But seeing your jersey brought up the fact that if you couldn’t get back into the suite after leaving, there was no way for Caleb to get his. 

He was disappointed until the suite attendant appeared a few minutes later to take your food order - and then asked if there was anything else she could do for you. “Is there any way he could go and buy a jersey? We didn’t know we’d be in a suite, so we didn’t stop on the way, and he’s -”

“Of course.” She looked down at Caleb, grinning. “I can take you, or one of the adults here can come with us.” She pointed. “There’s a team shop right above where we are.”

‘I’ll go with you, buddy.” Troy stepped forward, reaching out to ruffle Caleb’s hair. “Might want to get one of my own.” He looked over at you and winked, and it took everything in you not to groan. Smooth, Troy. 

They left you and Erin moments later, and as soon as the door shut behind them, she whirled to face you, her eyes wide. 

“We’re in the owner’s suite. He gave you the fucking jersey he wore to do promo shots for this weekend.” She scoffed, raising her voice. “Fuck, that’s probably the first Statesman uniform he’s had on since he got hurt, and now it’s yours.” She paused, gesturing toward the field. “You must have been amazing in bed, because -”

“Erin.” Holding both hands up, you shook your head. “I’m just as confused as you are. He said he wanted to see me again, but when he asked about tickets for this weekend, he didn’t mention anything after, just… this.” You used one hand to indicate the suite you were in. “And by this I mean tickets. I had no idea it was going to be a suite. It’s too much.” 

“Maybe he’s hoping for a really nice ‘thank you’ blowj-”

“I don’t think so.” You cut her off, sinking into one of the chairs and crossing your arms. “I asked if I could the other night, and he said no, because we didn’t know each other well enough. And I don’t think that’s changed.” 

You didn’t want to admit that the same thought had crossed your mind - that Jack was being so generous because he expected something in return. But he didn’t hesitate to ask for things in bed. If it happens again, he’d just tell me what he wanted so that I could either say yes or no. 

“You’re joking.” She sat next to you, crossing her legs and leaning closer. I’m not. “Did … did you even have sex? Because if you didn’t, and he’s doing this? Then -”

“We did.” It was a relief to admit it, even though you hated the idea of spreading personal details. “And it was good, Erin. Like, really fucking good. But there’s no way it was this good, especially for him. You’ve seen the same things online that I have about him. No one’s ever … people would talk about him doing this for them. And no one has.”

“So maybe they lied.” She shrugged. “Maybe they said he wasn’t attentive or interested in more than one night because it was their way of dealing with the fact that he never called them again.” She bit her lip. “Maybe it was them wanting to get the last word in and make it harder for him to do the same in the future.” She reached out, taking your hand and squeezing it. “And maybe the ones that he did this stuff for, if he has in the past? Maybe they respected him enough to keep it quiet.” 

She’s probably right. You swallowed hard, turning your head to look through the netting and at the field. For everyone that had said something negative about their experience with Jack online, there had to be others with good experiences that had kept their mouths shut. And I’m one of those. “What would I do without you?” Squeezing her hand before you let go, you stood again and went back inside of the suite, Erin following closely. “Want a drink? We can open these bottles of Statesman, according to Mary.” 

She did - and by the time Caleb, Troy and the attendant came back a little while later, the two of you were laughing over your drinks, a few of the bags of snacks open on the table between you. Both guys had bought jerseys - Caleb’s was a smaller version of yours, while Troy was wearing one of the Statesman home blues, Jack’s last name and number on the back. 

The food arrived shortly after, and once each of you had made a plate, you headed back outside to sit in the seats and watch the on-field activity, Caleb narrating around mouthfuls of chicken tenders and french fries. 

You relaxed the longer you sat with your friends, and by the time the players started to come onto the field for warm-ups, you’d talked yourself into a state of calm. 

Sort of. 

You were fine until Jack took the field, a chorus of cheers coming from further down the third base line - the same as it had been when you and Caleb had seen him the previous week. Erin shot you a look but you ignored it, instead watching as he began his stretches, the same dark-haired woman supervising each movement. 

He looked good, and even though it had only been a little over a week since you’d seen him play, you could tell that he was stronger, too. “He looks better, right Caleb?” You nudged the boy, smiling at him. “Less hesitation when he -”

“He’s really stretching out those calves, hmm?” Erin cleared her throat. “He’s very flexible.” You glared at her and she wrinkled her nose and winked, but didn’t say anything else, even as Troy snorted into his drink. She’s not wrong, though. 

“Sorry we won’t get to meet the players today, kiddo.” Leaning forward, you propped your elbow up on the ledge in front of you before resting your chin on your hand. “I know how much you wanted to do that.”

“Are you kidding?” He turned to look at you, rolling his eyes. “This is way better. We get to see everyone up close.” You agreed - and so did Troy, and for the next few minutes, the four of you watched the players in silence, though your attention was specifically on Jack and his trainer. 

When he stepped out of view to talk to fans in the stands, you decided to go back inside and make yourself a second drink - the last one you were planning on having, since you had to drive home. Once it was mixed you lifted the cup to your lips, your other hand on the bottle. Just enjoy tonight. It doesn’t have to be more than this. You swiped your thumb slowly over where his signature was etched into the glass and took a deep breath before turning to head back outside. 

But when you reached the door, you paused, sucking in a breath at the sight of Jack crouched down in front of the netting and talking to Caleb, Erin and Troy. He must have caught your movement in his peripheral, because he looked up and nodded, his grin widening. “There she is.” 

“Hello, Whiskey.” You raised your glass, giving him a genuine smile, even as your heart pounded. “Welcome back to Louisville.” 

“It’s good to be here.” His lips twitched, one hand lifting to pull his hat off before he repositioned it on his head, never breaking eye contact. “You got the good seats tonight.” 

“We do. The good liquor, too.” That got a laugh out of him, Jack rising to his feet and straightening his shoulders as you brought the drink to your lips. 

“Enjoy yourselves. I’ve gotta get goin’.” He turned away and paused, putting a hand on his hip before he spun back to face all of you. What are you going to say, Jack? “Nice jersey, by the way.” You nearly choked on the liquid in your mouth at his words, and if Jack’s quiet laugh was any indication, he was very aware of it. You jackass. 

You caught his wink and then he did disappear, heading down the stairs and into the dugout. Ok, that could have gone worse. It could have gone better, too, but at least you hadn’t made a fool of yourself in front of him - which was the important thing.

The sound of Caleb talking about how Jack remembered him faded as you went back inside, setting your drink down on the counter and then gripping the edge of it, head lowered. The hard part’s over. He saw me and he knows I’m here, and he saw me in the - 

“He likes you.” Troy was right behind you, and even though you jumped at the sound of his voice, you recovered quickly, spinning to look at him. What? “He walked over and immediately said hi to Caleb, but he looked around and he seemed disappointed. And then you came outside and his mood changed.” Troy’s smile widened, and he stuck his tongue into his cheek briefly before saying anything else. “And if he looked for you, that means he knew you were going to be here, and -”

Shit. Is it that obvious? “I’m not going to confirm or deny a goddamn thing.”

“You just did.” Troy laughed, reaching out with one hand to squeeze your arm. “Good for you, though. He seems like fun.” You have no idea. “We should go back out there. The game’s going to start.” 

Wordlessly, you followed Troy back out and into the seating area - just as the request to rise for the National Anthem blared out through the loudspeakers.

— 

By the sixth inning, you weren’t worried about what was going on between you and Jack anymore. Instead, you were upset, because The Statesman were losing. 

It was no fault of Jack’s, though - he’d gotten a single and walked in his two at bats, the crowd giving him a standing ovation each time he headed to home plate. He’d also made a few really good plays at third - one of them throwing out someone at home as the other team tried to bunt in a run. 

The rest of the team was the problem, with errors made in the outfield, a dropped ball by the shortstop and three really bad pitches that had resulted in six total runs scored. There was still time for a comeback, and even though chances were growing slimmer by the minute, a three run deficit wasn’t too much to overcome. 

When Jack took his place in the on-deck circle, there were two men on and only one out. You stayed in the position that you’d been in for most of the game - arms crossed and elbows resting on the wall in front of you, leaning as close to the action as you could get. 

Watching him up close was special, and you’d snapped a few pictures in his earlier at bats of him bending over and adding the weights to the bat before he swung, as well as of him with it perched on his shoulder and in motion. It wasn’t just Jack that you photographed, but you paid more attention to him than the others. 

You were so close that you could hear the players grunting and groaning as they took their practice swings, as well as some of the things they yelled back to the other players in the dugout and on the field, and Jack was vocal. It didn’t surprise you after the time you’d spent with him, but if you’d said that the way he was on-field and with his teammates and the ump crew wasn’t a turn on, it would have been a lie. 

Because if the fans got into the game, Jack was on another level. 

He paused in his swings to watch the at bat in front of him, and after one particularly bad call, you heard his disdain for the ump - the man’s shout of “That wasn’t a damn strike even in a little league game!” clearly audible, as was the way he ducked his head toward the ground and kicked the dirt in a side-to-side motion with one cleat while he repeated the word “bullshit” under his breath. 

During a visit to the mound by the catcher, Jack looked over at where you were, locking eyes with you and rolling his, mouthing the word “bullshit” again. You laughed in return, mouthing the words I know, before shaking your head. It was easier than you’d thought it would be to interact with him, and part of you wondered if it was because it was pointed but not personal, and that he wasn’t hiding his actions.

The entire stadium groaned when the batter popped out and the runners couldn’t advance, but those groans turned into cheers when Jack’s walk up music started, and your breath caught in your throat again when he looked over at your suite before he headed to the plate, smirking and giving you a quick wink. 

“He changed his song!” Erin leaned over, elbowing you a few times. “This is my favorite one!” It was yours, too - and you’d always thought that it was a little inappropriate for an MLB stadium filled with kids - but that day, you didn’t care. 

He strutted toward the batter’s box as Pony blared through the speakers, and you didn’t look away for a second. And neither did any of the other women in this stadium if those cheers are anything to go by. 

He stepped into the box and then got ready, kicking at the dirt and using one hand to tug on the front of his jersey, making sure that the chain he wore was resting flush against his chest, and not on top of the material. He took a few practice swings and then tapped the bat against the plate, releasing a breath and nodding before settling the lumber back on his shoulder. 

“C’mon Jack!” You yelled the words and smacked your palm on the wall a few times, shaking your head. “Bring ‘em home!” Erin laughed next to you, but she also cheered, and then Caleb joined in, the three of you going silent just before the pitcher set and threw. 

It was a ball - so far inside that it almost hit Jack, but he stayed in place, cocking his head to the side as he lifted the bat and took another swing before settling it back in place. 

The crowd was loud - roaring out his name when Jack swung at the next pitch and made contact. The noise increased until it hooked foul, everyone wincing and groaning. He didn’t even run, though. He knew it wasn’t fair. Jack adjusted his gloves and then stepped back into the box, getting situated just in time for another pitch - that one ball two. 

“A single scores one.” Troy reached up, linking his fingers through the netting as he leaned closer. “A double will score both, and -” Jack swung and missed, and you lowered your head, swearing. Fuck. “Come on Daniels!” Troy let go of the fence and clapped his hands. “Just wait for your pitch!” 

He didn’t swing the next time and as the count ran full, the atmosphere in the stadium changed considerably. If no one scores here, the game’s over. It was a nervous energy that coursed through you, but when you looked back at Jack, you saw that he was still calm, his grip on the bat handle loose as he stepped out of the batter’s box and looked around the stadium. 

“He’s going to strike out.” Troy sat back, shaking his head. “This pitcher’s been too good today.” 

“No, he’s not.” Caleb scowled at the man, phone in hand. “He’s going to get a hit.” He jumped up and down a few times. “He has to.” 

“Whatever happens, it needs to happen now because I feel sick to my stomach.” You mumbled the words, lowering your head and groaning. “Come on, Jack.” You wet your lips and looked back at him, watching as he rocked back and forth, awaiting the pitch. 

You knew as soon as he swung that bat that he’d make contact - and when, moments later, the crack of the connection reached your ears, you knew it was gone. And so did Jack, the man keeping his eye on the ball as he headed to first, and then throwing both hands up into the air and cheering as he rounded the base.

“Fuck yeah, Jack!” You jumped up and down and then turned to hug Erin, the woman squealing in your ear before she let go and reached for Troy, who was shaking Caleb back and forth in celebration, the boy yelling in excitement. 

You focused back on the field - where the two men that had been on base were waiting at home plate for Jack. When he rounded 3rd, you cheered louder, clapping your hands and yelling out his name. There was little chance that he could hear you over the others in the stadium, and when he got to home and stomped on the base, the other two engulfing him in celebration and knocking his hat off, you wished that you’d had your camera out - and had gotten the moment on video. 

The three of them headed back in your direction, Jack at the center of the group, and even though it was fast, you didn’t miss his glance at your suite, or the tiny nod and smirk he gave you when you grinned up at him, biting down on the inside of your lip. Oh, shit. 

“That was awesome!” Caleb’s voice broke the moment, and when you looked over, you saw that he was following the three men with his phone. “And I got it all on video!” He lowered the device and then beamed up at you and his sister. “If I send it to you, will you post it?”

“That’s a long video to post, buddy.” Troy settled back into his seat, scrubbing a hand over his face as the next batter swung and missed. “But it’s really cool that you got it all.” He looked sad but agreed, and when Caleb looked at you again, you raised a brow. 

“You can still send it to me if you want, though. I’d love to watch it.” And to see if he got that smirk in there, because… damn. 

He told you he would once you were out of the stadium, and then Caleb tucked his phone away and returned his attention to the field, where the batter had just struck out, ending the inning. But they’re tied now, and that’s all that matters.  

For the next two and a half innings, neither team scored, which meant that it all came down to the bottom of the ninth. Jack was due to bat third, which meant you’d get to see him once more that night. And that might be it for a while. 

You’d taken advantage of the suite during the game, getting more to eat and drink, ordering ice cream sundaes that were delivered by your attendant, and watching a few at bats on the TV mounted to one wall instead of live in front of you. It was an experience that you’d never forget, and you’d heard your friends say the same throughout the night. 

Neither Erin or Troy had said anything about Jack’s wink or the nod, but you knew that they’d seen both. She wouldn’t spill your secrets to him, but you knew he’d likely ask, and part of you wondered what would happen if things continued between you and Jack, even on just a friendly basis. I’d have to tell them then.

The attendant told you that both bottles of Statesman were yours to take, and so between the 8th and 9th innings, you’d packed them up into the provided boxes and then tucked them into a bag that she’d left for you, along with the partially eaten candy and popcorn - figuring that they were just going to toss it anyway if you left it behind. 

And when the Statesman came up to bat for the final time, you rushed back out into the seats, standing between Erin and the left wall of the suite and drumming your fingers nervously against the concrete. 

That time, Jack paid no attention to the crowds while he waited to hit, instead crossing his legs at the ankle and leaning against the end of his bat, eyes on his teammate. “Just get on base.” You whispered the words, looking toward home. “Give Jack a chance.” 

The game meant very little in the grand scheme of things. 

The Statesman weren’t close to leading in the standings, and it would have taken a lot to get them to a contending position for the playoffs. But you still wanted them to win, if for no other reason than to top off Jack’s return. He did his part, though. He tied it up. 

And the man at the plate did his part, too, knocking a single between second and third, which meant that Jack got to the plate with one on and nobody out, his walk up song back to the one he’d used for his first two at bats. 

Caleb was nearly vibrating with excitement, his phone out and aimed at Jack once more - and you decided to do the same. Fuck it, you thought, pressing the record button. I’m just a fan right now. He took the first pitch - a called strike - and you watched him shake his head in disagreement, though he didn’t argue for too long. 

The second pitch slipped from the pitcher’s hand and veered downward, and even though Jack moved quickly, he couldn’t get out of the way. It hit the ankle guard he wore and bounced away, and for a few horrifying seconds, you worried that his return to the team would be short lived. 

The entire stadium booed, but the sound turned to a cheer when Jack bent over and pulled the protection off, tossing it to the side along with his batting helmet, and jogged to first. His trainer was close behind, the woman’s arms crossed over her chest as she assessed his condition and finally gave him the go-ahead to stay in. 

The game continued once she’d jogged back across the field and into the dugout, and you - along with thousands of others - watched anxiously, waiting. 

You didn’t have long to wait. On the third pitch of the at bat, he blooped a hit into shallow right, the ball hitting the ground and then skipping through the legs of the outfielder. 

The entire stadium roared, and the four of you did, too, cheering and clapping as the winning run crossed the plate. Erin wrapped you in her arms in celebration, but you kept your eyes on the field. I don’t want to miss this. Jack didn’t even finish rounding the bases and instead cut across the infield and headed for home, both arms out in front of him as he clapped and cheered. 

He’d lost his hat again as he hurried in, and by the time he was hugging his teammate, all of them jumping up and down, his hair had curled over his forehead - one lock hanging between his eyes. He got swallowed up in the crowd of people and you turned away, pulling free from Erin’s hold. 

“Hell yeah!” Troy pumped his fist in the air. “What a win.” It took a few seconds, but all of you managed to calm down and look back at the field, watching as the teams did their congratulatory handshakes and then broke for the dugouts and locker rooms. 

Jack got pulled for an interview, but you could barely see it, and so the four of you began to pack up, heading back inside after one final look at the field. The attendant was back, and she asked if you wanted a group photo before you left - something that Caleb agreed to for all of you. 

But once those were taken on all four phones, you had no reason to stay in the suite. She led you back down the hallway and to the main concourse, thanking you for coming and telling you to have a safe drive home before saying goodbye.

It was strange to be around so many people again after having no crowd to deal with for the entire night, but the mood was cheerful, and that hadn’t changed after walking back to the car and putting everything you carried into the trunk. 

You hoped you wouldn’t have to sit in traffic for very long. Because you’d gotten to the game so early and were on one of the lower garage floors, you got your wish. Only ten minutes later, you were out of the garage and on your way home. Caleb and Troy were having an intense conversation in the back seat, and Erin was leaning against her window, head propped up on one hand. 

“That was really cool.” You nodded, keeping your eyes on the road. “Make sure you thank the person that got those tickets for us.” You knew what she was doing - but refused to take the bait. “Or I can, if -”

“I’ll text when I get home.” You narrowed your eyes and looked over at her. “I promise.” You heard Troy snort in the back seat, but Erin thankfully didn’t say anything else. 

Caleb was the first one out of the car as soon as you parked, the boy yelling a ‘thank you’ at you before he sprinted toward the front door, bursting to tell his parents about the game. Troy and Erin hung back, and you were surprised to hear him speak first, after leaning forward to slot himself between the seats. 

“That was really fucking cool. Please, make sure you tell Jack that we appreciated tonight.” You assured him you would, and when Erin reached over to squeeze your knee, you cleared your throat. 

“Thank both of you for being … discreet.” Shrugging, you gripped the wheel with both hands. “I don’t want to make too much of -” You were cut off when your phone rang, and thanks to the fact that it was connected to your car via Bluetooth, they were both able to see exactly who was calling: Jack. “Not a word from either of you.” 

Erin laughed, but as you reached for the screen to answer the phone, she opened the door and got out, Troy not far behind. Your finger hovered for a second and then you answered, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. “Hey, Jack.” 

“I’m not interruptin’, am I?” 

“No, I just dropped everyone off, and I’m getting ready to go home.” Backing out of the driveway, you turned in the direction of your place. “What are -”

“Come over.” You sucked in a breath, looking away from the road and toward the display. What? “I mean, if you’re not busy, and want to, you can come over tonight. You should come over.”

“I don’t know where you live.” You glanced down, realizing that you were still wearing your clothes from the game. “And I need to go home and change, I’m -”

“You still wearin’ my jersey?” Confirming that you were, you were relieved to hear his groan, Jack’s continued words spoken in a much softer tone than he’d been using before. “Then you definitely don’t need to go home. I’d sure like to see you in that without a net between us.” 

You stopped at a light, pressing your fingertips to your mouth and thinking. You wanted to see him again. You wanted to spend more time with him. And if he’d called you immediately after arriving home from a walk off win, he obviously wanted to spend more time with you, too. Fuck it. Why not? 

“Alright, Jack. Send me your address and I’ll be there soon.” 

—

Sample dugout suite view:

Alternate Players Weekend photo (thank you @stealyourblorbos):

[thatpyroblogs]

Long 600 Strike Rant

Spoilers for the song 600 Strike below

Had a night to think over what I saw and man I am still so disappointed by that song and, mostly specifically, the animation. Now I want to clarify that I mean what the animation showed (and thus what Jorge asked the animator to do) not the quality of the animation (it was nicely made). I just really hated the windbag jetpack. I know Jorge has repeatedly talked about how anime is a big inspiration for him and also how he would like Epic to be turned into a videogame, but man that jetpack is just came out of nowhere to me.

Not a big fan of beating a god with what appears to be the strength of his 600 dead men (and I'm not sure how many of them would want to help him given how some of them die). I'm also wondering what is supposed to keep Poseidon from just flooding Ithaca after he heals back up. I can't imagine him actually being so scared of Odysseus that he won't try and get revenge. The man lives on a tiny island! Poseidon has destroyed bigger before!

I think part of what I'm really hating is I see a way it could have worked. If Jorge had had Athena met back up with Odysseus at some point before 600 strikes. She would still be weak and messed up from God Games, but her and Odysseus working together would even the playing field in the fight against Poseidon.

This would bring the musical story back on track with the actual story. In the story Athena calms Poseidon's storm for Odysseus allowing him to get to the safety of Phaecia. Epic could have continued with the plan to skip Phaeacia and just had Athena's Epic version of calming of the storm be her and Odysseus reconciling and working together to take down Poseidon.

My version of 600 Strike would have had Athena pulling the drowning Odysseus into quick time where they reconcile and agree to work together to defeat Poseidon. Odysseus still uses the windbag, but only to escape the water (no jetpack). If the whole flying still has to happen why not divine owl wings from Athena or something similar? Either way together they should be able to take on Poseidon as there is precedent for Athena giving mortals the ability to kick godly butt (looking at you Diomedes).

Then after that Odysseus can still end up stuck on the rock with a weakened Poseidon. Athena, who again still hasn't recovered from God Games, no longer has the energy to keep pumping divine energy into Odysseus, thus he returns to being a mortal man . Poseidon taunts the two just like in the song since Odysseus has no divine help now and he opened the windbag allowing Poseidon's storm to now trap him.

Odysseus would still pick up the trident and torture Poseidon. Now you can even have Poseidon begging Athena to call off her champion and her refusing to stop Odysseus as he gets his vengeance. Poseidon eventually agrees to let Odysseus go with the knowledge he is now protected once more by Athena.

Though I'm still not sure that solves the whole Poseidon being petty and drowning Ithaca or Odysseus at a later date issue. Maybe during the torture bit have Poseidon say something about how the other gods won't let Odysseus get away with what he is doing to him. Then you can have Athena reveal that Zeus has sanctioned what is happening to Poseidon. I feel like if Zeus is thrown in as supposedly having interest in Ithaca/Odysseus than Poseidon would be less likely to retaliate at a later date.

Of course maybe I'm overthinking something that won't turn out to be a plot hole. Maybe there will be some info given in one of the last songs that will reveal why Poseidon can't just come back later and ruin Odysseus's life. I'm really hoping that happens and 600 Strike can just become the one song where I ignore the official animation. I'm also hoping we get Athena back at some point before the end of the musical. I really don't want God Games to be her last appearance. I'm afraid how she is handled might end up being another disappointing bit to this musical.

[lej222]

ASLFUA ending theory

I’ve recently re-read this webtoon, along with the Korean raws, so there will be SPOILERS for those who are not up-to-date with it. I will also compare it the the Korean drama, 25 21, so if someone hasn’t watched it, please skip those sections. Thank you. :)

So, let’s start off by clarifying that I love After School Lessons for Unripe Apples. I adore the relationship between Cheol and Miae, and I love them both as characters. I need to address this here, because otherwise some might think this is a hate post. It is not. What I will conclude at the end of my post is my interpretation of how the story will end, and it is an objective conclusion, not my subjective feelings. Please understand before accusing me of favoring certain characters over others. 

This webtoon is very similar to the Korean hit-drama, 25 21 in many ways. They are both set in the same time period, they are about youth and friendship, and are centered around a boy and a girl and their blossoming relationship. The girl is positive about life, full of energy with an eccentric personality, while the boy is more cautious because of his own bad experiences in the past, and he starts to see the beauty of life again and be more himself after meeting the girl. Of course, these similarities are coincidental as we know that Unripe Apples was published before 25 21. At the beginning of 25 21, we get to know that the main characters are no longer together in the future. Despite hoping that the narrative will keep them together, we have to resign to the fact that the show will be about their youth and they will eventually get separated. Let’s not talk about how that happened, because the execution was quite clumsy, but the main idea is the following: two young people meet when they need each other the most at a certain point in their lives - they develop a friendship which later becomes romantic love - life and circumstances force them apart, and the love they shared will only be a memory while they experience new things. Now, let’s look at what we know about Aslfua:

In the second chapter of the webtoon, we are told that Cheol is someone Miae will never forget. This message is reinforced again in chapter 4, when they end up being in the same class. This leaves the readers wondering: why is the wording like this? In fact, the meaning is the same in the original Korean text. If Miae and Cheol get married one day, why are we told that she would never forget him? Because, if the foreshadowing is intentional, Miae and Cheol will one day part ways. I know that it is hard to imagine for us readers, who watch their story unfold in front of our very eyes, but this is a very likely outcome. From the very beginning, Cheol is introduced in every way as Miae’s first love. Miae often compares their moments together to the comic she reads, My First Love Next Door Is Number One. The comic is a blatant symbol of their relationship- they live next door, the main character is like Cheol, and he is the first love of the girl. The narrative keeps emphasizing when something significant happens, that Cheol and Miae are 16 years old, with sentences like “this is the age when everything is embarrassing”. It’s not a coincidence in my opinion that the emphasis is always there. Because it keeps us not forgetting that this is a certain period in their lives, which will one day pass. But if they do not end up together, you may ask, what was the point?

Well, in my opinion, the story has always been about Miae and Cheol helping each other, while the romance has been secondary. Cheol meets Miae at the lowest point in his life. For him, meeting her is more than a romantic relationshp, meeting Miae is a start of a significant turn in his life. Cheol becomes friendlier, more expressive and acts more like a young boy. Miae, on the other hand, learns to be more responsible when she is with Cheol, and he helps her out many times. The time that they spend together might be short for all we know, but it is truly something they will never forget. Interesting that the author has drawn them together in high school, wouldn’t that be a spoiler at this point? Well, it wouldn’t if they do not go to the same high school, in this case it would be a what if scenario. There are also a lot of illustrations on her social media, but they are not strictly romantic. This leads me believe that while Cheol and Miae will indeed fall in love with each other, it will be just a short period of their lives. Yes, heartbreaking, but very realistic if you ask me (as an adult, I’m speaking from experience). 

So, here comes the more controversial part. If Cheol and Miae do not end up together, what about the other characters? It’s a very interesting question. Because, for a long time, the webtoon did not have a clear second male lead. Second male leads are usually introduced only for the sake of creating drama between the main characters. We know from the start that they will not end up with the main character, but they are usually fun people with an unrequited crush, who are introduced at the beginning as part of a love triangle.We could observe the same pattern in Cheese in the Trap, the author’s other work. In Ho was shortly introduced after the male lead,they had a personal grudge against each other, fell in love with the same girl, etc. He was included in promotional art, but it was obvious he was destined to lose.

Let’s look at Unripe Apples from the same perspective. Jinseop is shortly introduced after Cheol, he has a fun personality and personal connections to Cheol. Does he end up as the second ml? No.He seems like the perfect candidate, but he only becomes Miae’s friend without romantic feelings. What about Jungwook? He’s Cheol’s friend, goes to the same academy as Mae, he is handsome and kind, another perfect candidate. But no. He never has any romantic feelings towards Miae. So, here comes the strange part. We are introduced to a boy way long into the story, Seo Jisu. His apperance seems random at that point of the narrative until we realize: but he has been there all along. In fact, if Korean theories are true, he has been in the story since chapter 1. Miae gets back her pencil, but it wasn’t Cheol’s doing. Soemone drags Miae away from the crowd at the sports festival. She dances with a faceless guy who keeps saying random things. They are sent out to the corridor for not paying attention. He finds Miae’s nametag and wears it. And, if the theories are true from the Korean raws, he went to the same elementary school and confessed he liked her in front of the whole class before transferring. So, this guy was truly everywhere in the narrative even before we were aware of his existence. But why?

If he was truly destined to be the second ml, why wasn’t he introduced earlier? Why was this character needed when we already had at least two boys who could have fulfilled the same role? Jinseop already created tension between the main characters, so what was the reason? Also, Jisu is weirdly separated from certain parts of the story. He doesn’t go to the academy, in fact, we never see him outside school. Jinseop is tied to Cheol’s past, and we see him a lot outside of school with Miae. And how does Miae see Jisu? She thinks he’s weird, while others characters think the same of her. Even though they recently made connection, she looks at him a lot, while they are not even friends. Miae had already had a lot of male friends from the cast, why was one more added? And why don’t we know anything about him? 

Well, here comes the final conclusion. I think Jisu will be the one Miae will stay with at the end. Otherwise I do not see why the author chose to drop so many hints of him even before his introduction if it wasn’t going to be important. If Cheol and Miae get separated, which is supported by the narrative, the most likely outcome is that she introduced Jisu to be Miae’s final love interest. Again, I’m not saying this because I prefer him over Cheol. I love both characters. I relate a lot to Cheol. It is my objective conclusion based on the narrative, if the author wants to portay a realistic coming-of-age story. It would be pointless if she created Jisu’s character only to create drama at that late point of the story, and honestly, bad writing, especially with how she built up his character in the background. Obviously, I can be wrong. The story will still be good even I’m wrong. But it’s an interesting possibility to think about. 

[defire]

Back to the Dregs Part 12

Part 1 Next

Content: end of rape scene, rape aftermath, language, escape attempt, nudity, manhandling

In case you skipped Part 11, Michael was tortured in front of the camera. Morgan couldn't take it and decided to go in without enough backup.

Now Michael is stuck between a rock and a hard place--the Huers are coming for him.

I hope it's not too hard to avoid triggers for you guys. I'm not trying to make it hard to navigate, I just have only ever written in a fast-paced novel fomat.

Story below the cut

"Okay cut it out." Psycho said dismissively.

Michael groaned as spikes of fresh stinging, tearing pain and nausea burst up through him.

"I said get off him!" Psycho shouted, and the rapist froze, then slowly retreated, hands pressing one last time onto Michael's rear as he pushed off him.

Michael groaned at the final stab of pain, then lay there as tears and blood dried on his naked body. His cheek pressed into the wood as his muscles gave in to his exhaustion, face-down in the middle of the room full fo gangsters. His breaths were coming in irregular gasps, his whole body shuddering.

They were talking, but their words didn't quite make sense.

"You wanna finish, go fuck a pedo," Psycho was saying.

Something about Chris not being here today.

"Then who's gonna..."

"Well we can't leave him there, we gotta move."

"I'll..."

Michael felt a hand on his shoulder and grunted, ready for more pain.

"Mikey, get up." Jordie patted his arm roughly.

"No..." Michael groaned, trying to move. His limbs didn't want to cooperate.

They were as heavy as if someone was still sitting on them.

"I'm not gonna hurt you." Jordie said "...As long as you get up."

"T-trying..." Michael moaned. He felt so sharp and clear in his head, the stinging and pulsing pain seeming to clarify his thoguhts. So why were his words coming out like that? Why did it sound like he was wheezing insane little sobs? Did that body on the floor even belong to him?

There was a whine from the hurt boy's lips as Jordie stooped and pulled him up a bit.

Michael cooperated, trying to get his knees up under him. The last thing he wanted was to piss off Jordie, but he was so tired.

"Calm down and stand up on my count." Jordie grunted, looping Michael's arm over his shoulder. "One, two, three--" And they hefted together, Michael with a shuddering sob as his swollen legs took the weight.

He realized vaguely that the rest of the gang seemed to be trying to move, fix things up, or something, but there was a heaviness about them. Combine their dragging looks with the comment about pedos, and Michael figured that this kind of thing wasn't a common occurrence in this gang.

He thought that all between step five and step six out of the twenty-five or so to the door of his cell.

As Jordie walked him there, the relief that he wasn't being dragged elsewhere, that he was going to get to lie on something soft and stop being harrassed for even a few minutes was so enticing, he wanted to cry.

Somewhere in his head he was cursing himself for it. He shouldn't be grateful that they were going to stop abusing him. That is, once Jordie was done with him.

Michael heard the cell door close as Jordie lugged most of his bodyweight to the bed and dumped him onto it, shoving up his legs like a couple of logs.

"...Look, I don't..." Jordie was just standing there.

Michael eyed him, fingers tightly gripping the blanket as he lay there on his stomach. He couldn't quite get what motivated Jrdie to smack him around like he did. So he wasn't sure how to read his mood.

Michael tried to say something, but what came out was just a frail grunt.

"Trying to provoke me, huh?"

A tear slipped down Michael's cheek, which Jordie noticed with a sharp look.

"K--I'm kidding, man." Jordie slapped his shoulder blade as if they were friends.

Michael hissed in pain; he'd struck a bruise.

"Fuck, oops." Jordie rubbed his nose.

Why was he being so wierd, Michael wondered.

"I didn't... know it would be like that." Jordie said finally, wiht a furtive glance at Michael's hollow expression, smushed into the blanket. "For what it's worth, I... didn't know." He repeated.

Was he... trying to apologize, after a fashion?

"I don't..." Michael licked his lips. "I don't know what to do. What do you want..."

"I wouldn't have done... That." Jordie said. "I mean like... Are you okay? ...Fuck, don't answer that."

Michael didn't. He didn't trust this mood of Jordie's.

Jordie suddenly huffed and straightened, and Michael gritted his teeth as he saw Jordie's hand coming down toward his head. But instead of slapping him, the hand fell lightly on the back of his head.

Then just as suddenly, he jerked his hand away and left Michael alone.

Alone. Finally. What had happened? The cruelty of the last half hour sizzled up into his brain with hot blood rushing past his ears. The humiliation of forced nakedness in front of the entire fucking gang. The agony of the makeshift whip beating down his back and legs. And whatever ugly black hole of sensation that... that...

He pulled the pillow up under his face with a shudder, clenched his teeth, and then screamed.

Over, and over, and over. He screamed till each gasp in between whistled in his vocal cords, rage and tears squeezing out, muffled by the pillow.

He tried to stop. And then his mind would scramble to find a word that was sufficiently enraging, horrifying enough to describe it, and he would scream again.

The word "rape" was outrageously meager for what it really was.

He was out of breath, trembling, his back killing him and dripping again from the freshly-aggravated wounds because of his shrieks. Another scream cinched up his throat but he pushed back. He didn't have the energy. He needed to save it; he needed to stop.

He whimpered as he managed to lift his upper body, looking behind him at the door, wondering if Chris was going to come in. Then his eyes widened. Jordie had forgotten to close the door.

"Don't do this, Morgan." Al followed him as he loaded himself up with weapons. Not too heavy for mobility, but plenty of backup power. Better to draw a second gun than have to stop, pop the magazine out, swap it, shove it in, and chamber a cartridge before you can fire again. That would be enough time to get shot a few times.

Morgan passed out more weapons from his collection to the new faces in the group, and kept walking down the corridor.

"We bust straight into the shop from Elm." He said. "Al and Paintjob, come in from the main entrance. Make sure to hide that kevlar. If one of you goes down, you need to run."

He continued briefing the team as they checked their weapons on the way through the alley.

Morgan Huer was not known to be this brazen. But those damn Westside guys had overstepped their bounds, and it was damn well time to put them in their place.

"Wait." Morgan grabbed Al and pulled her up to keep pace with him. "Where's Davie?"

There was a silence.

"He told me he couldn't, sir," Al said.

"He couldn't make it." Morgan repeated, daring Alvie to repeat that.

"He said his wife went into labor."

"His wife! I thought he was divorced."

"...He doesn't know we know that, sir." Al said. "I'm sorry, sir. I think he's--"

"He's a rat!" Morgan spat, rage flaming in his mouth as he let loose a string of curses. "--two-faced bastard! I'll fucking kill him!" He growled.

"But that means pigs." Al lowered her voice.

"I know." Morgan fumed.

"We... sir..."

Morgan turned his scowl on her as the Huers reached a crosswalk.

"Got something to say, Alvie?" He used her full name for more effect.

Alvie thought so long they were halfway across the next block of sidewalk before she said,

"No, sir, I don't."

"Good." Morgan said. "Let's go."

Michael stared out of the corner of his eye at the cracked-open door.

Was it a trap?

He rubbed his swollen eyes, clenching his fists and trying to straighten out his mind enough to think. He could barely even stand... How could he escape anyway?

He could hear them better outside now, though.

"Welcome girls," Someone said.

Up until now, the Westsiders had been known as a guys-only gang. Had they brought their girls? Were they that desperate?

There was a loud crack outside, then the sound of toppling wood.

"Come on!" Psycho shouted above the other voices. "Let's tear down those supports!"

His voice was joined by a cheer that sounded like fifty or so people. Not the thirty that had accumulated by the time Michael was dragged away. Something big was going down.

They sounded awfully certain that the Huers were coming.

Michael strained to move his naked body. He whimpered as he got his legs up, then pushed himself up to sitting on his bloody haunches with a hissing moan.

"Fuck... Everything hurts."

It was the thought of the Huers that made him shudder, grit his teeth and lower a leg onto the floor. His legs shook under his weight, and he paused, trying to remember how to get out, and if he'd have to go through anywhere without a wall or rail to lean on.

Morgan Huer was coming.

And Michael was not planning on being "rescued".

He put his hands on the bed and got his other leg onto the ground.

He studied the blanket.

He had to cover his arms, and preferably his crotch. He couldn't go out like this. He caught the words,

"It's both of them!" And his heart skipped a beat.

What if Joseph Huer himself was out? Had he escaped prison? Was that what they meant by 'both of them'? It had to be.

He couldn't tell if he was just having a paranoid fear reaction, or if it really made sense to assume it. But when it came to the Huers, "assume the worst" was a trusty standby.

He ripped the blanket off the bed and tossed it over his shoulders, wincing at the contact with his wounds.

The shakiness was easing, but the weakness and fatigue seemed to be onlly getting worse.

As he forced himself to move, he could hear Mr. Huer's voice in his memories, right at his back, it seemed.

"Get off the floor!" He had ordered. "You're a Huer! Huer's don't give up!"

Michael wanted to give up then. He'd fought for the right to give up. And now he couldn't let himself, because that man's voice was nipping at his heels.

As his arms pushed against the walls for support, his head was getting fuzzier, feverish.

He had the feeling of a gun in his hands as he touched the doorknob, finger tracing over the latch. They were fighting outside, their noises just louder than the roaring of blood in his own head. There were gunshots, kind of a lot.

And now he heard the sound of a police megaphone saying something about the building being surrounded.

Michael hoped that wasn't a bluff.

He peeked out. There were several gang members outside. They were facing the entryways with guns drawn, backing toward one corner of the building together, so they were clearly Westsiders.

Michael closed his eyes, accepting that if he ran, they might shoot him. But he'd rather die than goback to the Huers.

He pushed off the door frame and ran.

The blanket flapped at Michael's thighs as he darted forward. Just before he stepped, he realized that the nails holding the planks to the floor had been removed up ahead, and there were several places where the entire floor sagged.

It was a fucking trap for the Huers, of course.

Michael leapt off his good leg onto a taller part. That part had to be at least a little safer.

"He's running!" A girl shouted.

"Let 'im." Jordie's voice carried across the floor. "We don't need him anymore anyway."

Michael caught at the banister as they began to argue and someone fired. The bullet hit the sloping roof just above his head.

He cursed as he stepped onto his shot leg, and it suddenly gave out beneath him. He tumbled down the stairs in a mess of blanket and battered limbs, dragging himself away from the main entrance.

"It's him." Someone whispered. "Don't kill him. That's Michael."

Let it be police, let it be police...

Michael crawled toward the door, but a hand landed on his neck and pulled him back.

Michael flinched and pushed himself away, neglecting the blanket, but his attacker gripped tighter and threw their bodyweight onto his back. Michael gasped, then groaned and cursed at the rough clothes scraping against his cuts, a hip digging into his bruises as th ehand now encircled his throat until the entire arm locked over his jugular.

"Michael." The man said, leaning to the side to look him in the eyes. "You cn't go out there. There's cops."

Michael met the man's eyes, and felt himself going pale with horror.

It was Morgan Huer.

Taglist:

@fleur-a-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @whumped-by-glitter @whump-writings @mimostic @tildeathiwillwrite

[misc-obeyme]

THE THREADS THAT BIND

CHAPTER EIGHT AND A HALF

MASTERPOST for summary/info/chapter list

a/n: Okay time for a lengthy author's note about this bonus chapter. This is a bonus chapter because I wasn't originally going to write this part at all. This is what happens when Arsenios and Solomon go looking for the counter curse. (If I was naming chapters, this one would be called "The Misadventures of Arrie & Sol.")

This is essentially an MC and Barbatos love story, so I didn't think I really needed to write this part since neither MC nor Barbatos are in it. Then I thought people might want to see what happened, so I decided to write it and post it as a bonus. This means that you do not need to read this chapter at all if you don't want to. You can skip it all together and the rest of the story will still make sense.

That being said, this scene is written from Arsenios's point of view. So I feel the need to clarify a couple things about him. First, know that he is all bark and no bite. He will threaten people all day and then never actually follow through. Second, there is a reason why he doesn't like Solomon, but it has nothing to do with Solomon and everything to do with Arsenios and his past. Arsenios is aware of this, but he's still struggling with it lol.

Okay, that's it, sorry for the rambling. If you do decide to read this, I hope you enjoy it! Back to MC and Barbatos in the next chapter!

GN!MC x Barbatos still, but neither make an appearance in this chapter and you can skip it if you so desire | word count 1,377

Warnings: demon OC, sorcerer OC, minor violence (no blood), a lot of empty threats, manipulative magic, I think that's it...?

Arsenios folded his arms, frowning at Solomon, who had the same usual annoying smile on his face. Arsenios had come to Purgatory Hall to find Solomon so they could go to the human world and find the counter curse for Barbatos.

Now he was standing inside the living room, trying to explain where Tobias's house was located.

"So you're saying it's in a forest?" Solomon asked.

"It's more like on the outskirts of a city," Arsenios said. "But there are just a lot of trees there. Man, don't you have a map or something?"

Solomon laughed lightly. "Would you know how to find the house on a map?"

Arsenios frowned even harder, unhappy about the fact that Solomon had a point.

Solomon patted Arsenios's shoulder. "Don't worry about it. I think I know the location you're talking about. Why don't I take us there and you can tell me if I'm wrong?"

Arsenios glared at Solomon. "I guess."

Solomon kept his hand on Arsenios's shoulder and recited the teleportation spell.

Arsenios felt himself get a little dizzy before he was suddenly in a new place. The light from the human world sun nearly blinded him. He tried not to hiss at it as he raised an arm to shield his eyes.

"Sorry about that," Solomon said. "I forget demons can be sensitive to sunlight if they rarely leave the Devildom."

"I spent plenty of time in the human world," Arsenios said. "Tried to come at night when I could, though."

"Sure," Solomon said. "But that was a long time ago, wasn't it?"

Arsenios huffed. He looked around at where they were. They were standing on a small street with a dead end. There were indeed trees everywhere and a rickety old house at the end of the street. The nearest neighbor was far enough away that they couldn't even see their house.

"Hey," Arsenios said. "This is exactly the right spot. How did you know it?"

Solomon shrugged. "The Sorcerer's Society isn't far from here. A lot of sorcerers live in this general area. I recognized the way you described the trees here, so I figured it must be this spot."

Arsenios didn't want to be impressed, but he was. "All right, now what?"

"Now, we go ask him politely to give us the counter curse," Solomon said.

Arsenios was ready to argue with this idea, but Solomon was already walking down the street to the front door of the house.

When they reached it, Solomon knocked loudly.

Only seconds passed before the door opened.

The sorcerer standing in the doorway was short, wearing a rather dramatic black cloak, and glaring at them. The minute he saw Solomon, his scowl deepened. Although Solomon had never actually met Tobias before, there was no doubt that his reputation had preceded him. Tobias started to close the door.

Solomon seemed to anticipate this, though. He grabbed the door and held it open.

"Hello, Tobias," he said, his voice just as cheerful as it always was.

Tobias looked at him, then at Arsenios, then back at Solomon. "What do you want, Solomon?"

"I heard you've been teleporting into the Devildom without permission," Solomon said.

"Have you become a guard dog for demons now?" Tobias asked. He sneered. "What am I saying. You've always been the demons' bitch."

"Wow," Arsenios said. "Listen, I'm not Solomon's biggest fan, either, but you're talking about an immortal man who has seventy two pacts. You know how pacts work, don't you?"

Tobias looked at Arsenios a little more carefully. "And who exactly are you?"

"None of your business," Arsenios said. "We're here for the counter curse. Hand it over."

Tobias blinked. "Counter curse?"

"Don't play dumb," Arsenios snarled. "You tried to curse Barbatos, but it hit MC instead. Give us the counter curse."

"The binding threads curse," Solomon said. "You have written a counter curse for it, haven't you?"

Tobias tugged on the door, but Solomon kept hold of it. "Of course I have, but I don't see why I should give it to you."

Solomon sighed and looked at Arsenios with raised eyebrows.

"I know what you want me to do," Arsenios said. "But do I really have to bother using my power on this idiot? I think I could beat the location out of him just fine."

Tobias paled as Arsenios began to roll up his sleeves. He pulled harder on the door, but it still wouldn't budge.

"I think Barbatos would prefer it if we didn't resort to violence," Solomon said. "Anyway, do you really want to get all bloody? I would think it'd be easier to just use your power."

Tobias gave up on the door and ran into the house.

"Oh, now, you wasted too much time talking," Solomon said.

"Me?" Arsenios demanded. He poked Solomon in the chest. "You're the one who won't shut up."

Arsenios didn't wait to hear Solomon's response to this, which was likely some witty quip he didn't want to hear anyway.

Instead he went inside the house.

The main room was a sort of foyer, an empty space with a staircase and a few open doorways leading to other rooms.

Arsenios didn't need to go in any farther. He felt Solomon enter the room and close the door behind them, cutting off the sunlight and plunging the house into a sort of grey dimness.

Arsenios took a deep breath and then he began to sing. As he did, his eyes glowed purple.

The song was not complex. For persuasion, a simple song was best. He sang in the ancient language of demons, his mother tongue, as it was easiest for him to infuse with intention.

It was a quiet and eerie song, one to match the strange place they were standing in.

There was a clatter from deep inside the house. And then Tobias came down the stairs, a folded piece of paper in his hands. His eyes were dull, his expression listless. He looked like he was sleepwalking.

Tobias walked straight to Solomon and held out the paper to him.

Solomon took it, looked it over, and nodded. "This is the right one, Arsenios."

Arsenios stopped singing.

Tobias blinked. Then he made as if he was going to snatch the paper out of Solomon's hand.

Arsenios grabbed the back of his cloak before he could and lifted him entirely off the ground. Tobias squeaked, kicking his feet.

Solomon walked over to Tobias and tapped his chest with the paper. "Thanks for this. I hope I don't have to tell you that you shouldn't come back to the Devildom for a while. Barbatos isn't pleased about all of this. And I have to admit, neither am I."

"You can’t just come to my home and bully me like this!" Tobias said, still struggling.

Solomon laughed. “You didn’t honestly think you could mess with a demon like Barbatos without repercussions, did you? You should be grateful he can’t come deal with you himself. It would’ve been a lot worse for you.”

“Put me down! I’m not interested in your posturing!” Tobias said.

"I think I’ll share one more song with you,” Arsenios said. “Just to make sure you don’t think about coming back to the Devildom.”

"I don't know if that's really necessary," Solomon said. "I think he's learned his lesson."

Arsenios didn't respond, only began to sing again, eyes glowing briefly. It was a short, sharp song, something that would simply remind Tobias not to return to the Devildom. A slight influence that would play in his mind whenever he considered it.

Arsenios dropped him. Tobias landed with a little thud, still on his feet. He looked surprised that he wasn’t hurt, but he scrambled away in fear all the same.

"Let's go," Arsenios said, turning to Solomon.

Solomon laughed. "You're so scary, Arsenios!"

Arsenios rolled his eyes because he knew he was being made fun of. "Whatever, can we just go back now? I don't like being here."

"Of course, of course," Solomon said.

Solomon put his hand on Arsenios's shoulder and brought them back to the Devildom, landing them directly in Purgatory Hall's living room.

"Thanks for your help," Solomon said.

Arsenios shrugged. "I only did it because of Barbatos. You've seen him with MC."

"Yes, I have," Solomon said.

They exchanged a knowing look.

"Anyway, we can give this to Barbatos at RAD tomorrow," Solomon said.

"Great," Arsenios said, turning to leave.

"By the way, Arsenios," Solomon said.

Arsenios looked over his shoulder.

"Are you sure you wouldn't be interested in making a pact-"

Arsenios didn't even wait to hear the rest, only turning away again and walking out the door. He rolled his eyes as he heard Solomon chuckling behind him.

masterpost | chapter one

chapter eight | chapter nine

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[specialinterestshows]

Tensions come to a head in this latest chapter of my Rhea Ripley x lady!reader fic

Warnings for this section: Social anxiety, jealousy/possessive behavior, choking

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Absolute Smokeshow (Part 36 of ?): Fight Or Flight Club

Putting away your belongings and leftover snacks that had been strewn across the couch during the second half of the show, you felt a sharp spike of anxiety as the last match of the night ended. Thankfully, the Judgment Day had managed to win their match, despite Damian and Finn going right back to arguing almost immediately after. You had seen Rhea grin and hoist her championship belt in the air, one arm around Dominik - a sight that no longer bothered you as much as it once did - celebrating the victory. She had to be in a better mood now. Standing up, you dust crumbs off the front of your top and skirt before slinging your bag over one shoulder.

After you’re only a few steps down the hall, you hear a cheery voice call your name and turn to see Liv Morgan, skipping over and waving at you.

“Did you enjoy the show?” she asked, catching up to you.

“It was pretty good,” you admit, looking her over before asking, “Are you okay after that fight earlier?”

“I’m just fine, cutie,” she says, smiling and winking, making you blush, “Maybe a bit sore, but that was barely a scuffle. Takes more than that to stop me!”

You couldn’t help but smile at her energy and optimism; it was strangely refreshing. She joined you on your walk back to the locker rooms while the two of you chatted about the show. It was difficult to remember the last time you met a woman who seemed so genuinely bubbly - her smile was contagious. Walking next to her, you felt much better about going to talk to Rhea and work things out.

“You’re really perky for someone who gets in fights and beats people up for a living,” you joke, trying not to stare too much at the beautiful woman beside you.

“I don’t usually get into fights, I compete in matches,” she clarified, “It’s all by the book unless I need to defend myself or a friend.”

“Ah, so you beat people up fairly,” you reply.

Laughing, the two of you enter the locker room.

“Just WHAT THE FUCK do you think you’re doing?!”

Both you and Liv - whose hand rested on your arm - froze and turned to see Rhea storming over after having hissed at the two of you. Terrified and unsure whether she was talking to you or Liv, you backed away instinctively as Liv moved to stand between you and Rhea.

“What are you doing touching her?” she snarled at Liv, inches away from her face, “You of all people should know better than to mess with Rhea. Bloody. Ripley.”

“Look, I’m not doing anything to make her uncomfortable, and I get that you want to protect your girlfriend but-“ Liv began, trying to keep a level tone before Rhea lifted her by her throat and slammed her into a nearby locker, holding her there.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Rhea growled, making you feel like your heart had been shattered in your chest as she continued to hold a squirming Liv against the lockers.

“Rhe!” you yell, vision getting slightly blurry as you tear up, “Stop!”

Liv coughed and gasped for air as she fell to the ground, holding one of the hands she’d been using to try and pry Rhea’s fingers open to the sore spot on her neck.

“Why am I here?” you shout at Rhea, seeing the confidence in her manner falter as you do, “If you’re just going to hurt me and act like this, why am I here? Why did you even invite me?”

It seemed like, for the first time, Rhea was at a complete loss for words as you slowly approached Liv - cautiously keeping your eye on Rhea - and helped her stand up.

“Here, I’ll help get you to medical,” you tell Liv, gaze still on Rhea, gently putting an arm around Liv’s shoulder, “I need a new cold pack for my hand anyway.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said to Liv after the two of you walked out into the hall.

“I’ve had to deal with her before,” she waved a carefree hand, still smiling despite having been choked only moments earlier, “How are you doing, though, hon? That was… a lot.” She gave the arm you still had around her shoulders a squeeze - you had been so distraught by what had just happened that you hadn’t thought to move away yet. Feeling your face grow warm, you pull back before answering, “I… don’t think I can let myself feel how I’m doing just yet,” you say before hurriedly adding, “If that makes sense.”

Liv nods, wincing slightly as she does.

“I’m so sorry she did that,” you say.

“You don’t have to apologize for her, hon,” Liv sighs, gingerly touching her neck, “In fact, I would be surprised if she didn’t apologize to you before the end of the night. I was a bit busy trying to breathe again, but I’m still pretty sure I saw real regret in her eyes after you yelled back at her.”

[end part thirty-six of ?]

Part 37: https://www.tumblr.com/specialinterestshows/727406121467445248/absolute-smokeshow-part-37-of-let-me-talk-to

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Tag List (thank you!)

@cherryberryshine , @littlemiss-fanficlover , @elisewithak , @babybatlover , @girlofpink , @kagome2909

[yellowhollyhock]

vent post got long

there have been different experiences throughout my life that can make it hard to talk

difficulty with volume control. especially as a little kid (3-5); yelling when I meant to talk, talking when I meant to whisper, whispering when I meant to keep the thought in my head. I'm sure my memory is skewed but it felt like I was always in trouble for it, from peers as much if not more than adults

fast forward a few years, and for the biggest chunk of my childhood, it's thinking I'm projecting when I'm really not. No one can hear me. People are constantly frustrated with me for not speaking up. It's easier to just not speak.

theatre classes helped a lot. I started to love public speaking. Even started to not hate socializing quite as much.

then had to go to college. all the skills I'd built up for years seemed to disappear for no reason. looking back such a big change in all my environments and routines would of course cause skill regression. but I didn't understand anything about myself at the time, I thought I was just stupid. And everyone still expected me to be smart. When I tried to ask for help they'd remind me how smart I was.

and then recently, somewhere in the middle of all that--a string of roommates/co-workers/felt like everyone around me with no escape, had this attitude of perfectionism.

Sending a text? there are a thousand ways to make the person on the receiving end immediately assume you hate them because you didn't follow their made-up rules about emojis and punctuation (I would try to explain that not everyone is like that, and if someone misunderstands you can always clarify, but being surrounded by people who were in fact looking for reasons to assume your text had ill intent made it harder and harder to believe)

Making cookies for a friend? Well don't bring them over on a paper plate ugh if someone did that to me I would feel so insulted. We need to actually put effort in so they know we actually care.

Literally walking back to the apartment looking at the moon together, completely relaxed until suddenly I'm in trouble for apparently not being emotional enough about it? sounding bored or something? got teased about it for weeks, at least it seems that way when I try to remember.

Those are real literal examples. It was like that all the time I thought I was losing my mind. Reinforced a deep mistrust of my peers that I thought I had grown past (that I worked really hard for years to grow past in spite of being treated badly because I believed things would get better and that at least part of the problem was my attitude). I think some part of me expected that it'd get better because my peers had become adults. Stupid assumption

Had one roommate early on who wasn't like that. Fell in love with her--didn't know I liked girls before that--transferred schools (was going to anyway), lost touch

Writing is a coping skill I've relied on since I could write. Volume isn't a factor. How long it takes me to put together my ideas isn't a factor (in texting it sometimes is, but expectations are also lower for how coherent my ideas are--unless someone raises them again). Figuring out when it's my turn to talk is much less of a factor.

For the past like 3ish years I don't think I've ever had less than 50 unread texts. College and other experiences surrounding it absolutely destroyed the things I used to love about myself. I'm building back up. But it's hard. It's hard that everyone else perceives dropping out as the big problem when it's actually the first decision that felt like mine in a long time and the only reason I was able to start writing again. And start speaking again. I have shorter non-verbal periods and usually am able to string together adult-sounding sentences (I hate describing it that way but I don't know how else to explain. In college I would have a really hard time getting words out but didn't feel like not talking was an option, so I'd skip pronouns and prepositions, my pronunciation was slurred and my volume control was out of whack. This also only happened sometimes, and was really humiliating to get stuck in in front of people who were used to hearing me talk 'normal') (giving myself permission to use what my mom use to call 'baby talk' has been one of the hardest things and also one of the most helpful)

Anyway when I take forever to respond to messages I'm not ignoring and I'm not mad. it's probably because I've forgotten how to make feelings into words. It helps a ton that on here I'm talking about things I choose with people who are nice to me, but it still happens where I just get stuck thinking that anything I say will be taken as an insult and scared that I'm gonna sound stupid

[ja0-s-blank-canvas-fic]

Part 4 - Chapter 2 - Space Case

Blank Canvas Part 4

AO3 - here

Fanfiction.net - here

Here you are with the double update! Some fluff to wash down the angst. ;)

Warnings for teasing in this chapter. Like a lot of teasing. Here we go. I'm just going to point out the really major ones because there are others that are just one line and super light. One is at "I'm sensing a theme..." continued to the next line. Another at "So I'm assuming...". The longest one starts at "Shouto smiled and stepped..." and continues for a while until after "So, who won the bet?". Then it picks back up at "Hey, Izuku, earlier you mentioned..." until just before "They made quick work...". Like I said, a lot but it just came out. :P

Linktree to all the things!

End notes for the chapter are under the line.

TodoIzu are officially boyfriends! Not declaring it is a common trope so I wanted to get that lack of understanding taken care of. Also I figure Shouto would be naive to that sort of thing. Either way I had fun playing around with his confusion and flustering Izuku.

If you skipped the teasing, essentially Shouto can't seemed to keep himself from kissing Izuku. And they had a clarifying conversation about whether he and Izuku were boy (space) friends or boyfriends with no space. Hence the chapter title because I'm a dork.

Alrighty, now everyone is moved into the dorms! You can see my post of the room placements here. With some of them already living there, it made sense to have them help out the others. Which gave me an opportunity to have Tsuyu have the chance to talk to someone instead of hiding away. Then she could join the contest! No Katsuki though. He gets his own chapter next. ;)

In regards to the bet, I had no idea what kinds of things for them to bet on, but I thought it would be funny for Toko to win out of everyone. I wasn't sure how exactly and this seemed the best? On the darker side though it is Tokoyami. Revelry in the dark and all that. The Dark Shadow moment just kind of popped in there though. No one hurts Sun Boy.

But yeah, they're official and so freaking cute about it! I love them so much. Coming next will be checking in with Katsuki and some more night time confessions. But you'll have to wait until next time! Again, updates are going to be more monthly as life permits me. This will allow me to have more writing time between chapters but also time to decompress between sessions. Until then, welcome back to BC and hope you have a good rest of your month! Bye bye!

[nobodysdaydreams]

this is so random, but if you have the time, could you talk about what drew you to christianity (or why stick with it through life)? I've been doing some research into religions to see what i vibe with and I saw one post from you about forgiveness for your enemies but i hold grudges until i die. i could never imagine forgiving some people

Thank you so much for this question, and for wording it so nicely and respectfully! I very much appreciate that and would be happy to answer your question (although Christianity is not the main focus of my blog, and I'm sure there are others who would be better equipped to answer your question, I shall endeavor to do my very best). Sorry in advance for any typos, if something is unclear/doesn’t make sense, please ask!

Really quick in case someone is new here: if you want to follow me and don’t like Christianity, you can block the tag “#christianity” (pin post goes into detail). Thanks!

This isn't really something I can answer quickly and easily, but if I had to point to what drew me to the faith at a young age, and why Christianity/Catholicism has become such a central part of my life today as opposed to a more cultural identity, it's the teachings and life of Jesus and the lives of the saints who modeled their lives after him. The care, compassion, and love Jesus had for everyone around him was beautiful to me, as were the how diverse and uniquely beautiful the lives of the saints were, men and women who lived in different countries, existed different time periods, spoke different languages, were different races/ethnicities, and had different vocations, jobs, disabilities, families, and experiences, all united across history by their common desire to serve God and serve others. Some of them were illiterate. Some were born in poverty, some were born rich. Some of them were devoted to God since they were young, others lived pretty selfish and at times horrifically sinful lives before they decided to turn it around. They weren't perfect people. They're not holy because they never messed up. They're holy because at some point they look at the teachings of Jesus and said to themselves "that's how I'm going to live my life".

You mentioned my post on forgiving your enemies, which for reference, I assume that this is the post in question. This post is based on Christian teaching, and I'm certainly not the only one to post about it. Another one of my favorite posts on the topic is this one: "there are going to be a shocking number of people that you don’t like in heaven, and you will rejoice at their presence when the time comes". These posts are based in the teachings of Jesus, which included things like "Love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you" and loving his enemies even as they were actively killing and torturing him. Now, at first, this sounds weird. Why would you want someone you don't like in heaven? Why would you love someone even when they are such a terrible person?

I started typing out my answer, and it turned into a bit of a rant, but since you're looking into religions, I thought it might be helpful. Sorry it’s insanely long. There’s a part at the end with a larger heading you can skip to if you want.

This is a complicated answer, and I debated about the best way to answer it, but I first wanted to clarify what my views are on humanity before I dive into forgiveness. I think is important, because I have learned that there are two, strangely very different and opposing ideas about the Christian view of humanity that exist in secular culture, neither of which fully or sometimes even partially represent what I believe in as a Christian or what my faith teaches. Please note I'm not specifically calling any one creator out with this as I have seen literally dozens of posts like both of these examples and as there are thousands of denominations of Christianity, I'm not discounting the fact that there may in fact be Christians who teach or believe this. This is merely an explanation of my faith and what I believe so that when I talk about my own views, people understand what I mean.

I came across the first secular view of the Christian view of humanity when I saw a couple posts that at first, I fully thought were written by a Christian, because they were like "Don't you ever just look around at people helping and caring for each other and become mesmerized by the inherent beauty and goodness of humanity? Our capacity to help each other, our willingness to care, our resolve to do better? We are beautiful, these examples that I've listed are beautiful." and I'm like heck yeah op, and immediately thinking of Catholic teaching about us made in the image of God and all that and Jesus' teaching about how whatever good we do for each other we do for God himself and I've seen so many similar posts from my Catholic and Christian mutuals that this post seems to blend right in. But then when I go to reblog it, op has a disclaimer that's like "Xtians need to get the **** off my post! Why do y'all keep coming here? You don't believe that every human is a beautiful and wonderful person, you believe that every human is a terrible sinner and should go to hell forever and you want to make innocent children and people with OCD feel bad and shame people into doing whatever you want and I don't get why every time I make a post like this, y'all keep coming here pretending to believe what I believe. You don't. **** off!"

And look, no hate to any of these OPs. If you do not want me interacting with your blog or your posts, I will not. And not every OP was that aggressive about it, most just respectfully asked Christians not to interact or reblog. But I won't lie, and I'm not trying to be mean. It was kind of funny to read a post that's like "Humans are so beautiful and kind I love us" and then when someone reblogs it like "Thanks OP, I agree!" the immediate response is "No, you don't. Go **** yourself". I'm so sorry, it has the same vibe as this lovely post, and I apologize for my terrible sense of humor, I just find it funny.

So while I obviously don't agree with any of the aforementioned OP's views on Christianity, I wasn't gonna try to debate them on it because I respect people's boundaries and there are a lot of better things I have to do with my time than debating strangers on the internet because when has that ever changed anyone's mind especially when people are emotional or upset? But anyway, I assumed that this was how most of the secular world viewed Christianity's view of humanity until I stumble across some very different kind of posts that were like this:

"As someone who has been abused and bullied my whole life, I get so disheartened by humanity. So many people are honestly so awful and don’t deserve anything. I hate seeing those stupid posts from Xtians about how all humans are made in the image of God and inherently good and deserve redemption and love and compassion, like really? Even murderers? Even abusers? Sorry, but no. They're not inherently good. Most people are genuinely so terrible, most people only think about themselves, and some people don’t deserve forgiveness because they’re objectively horrible and don't deserve a pass for what they did." And versions of these posts that were just lamenting the brokenness of humanity and not targeting the Christian view in general often had added disclaimers about how they did not want Christians (and in some cases, pro-humanity secularists too) on the their post.

I will say that as a Christian, it was really interested to read views that are so strongly against both humanity's goodness and brokenness and how they believe these are represented in a Christian worldview. I've also seen posts that attribute the differences in these views to denominations of Christianity: "The urge to experience the Catholic Guilt that we're all terrible sinners who can never make up for what we've done vs. urge to embrace the Protestant God loves everyone superiority complex and avoidance of all moral responsibilities" and such similar posts, but I don't think those differences between denominations are as strong as people make them out to be. If anyone is not interested reading this full post, the short version is, as I'm sure you've guessed, a more nuanced view of these extremes that explains why Christians love (or should love) our enemies, but exactly why and how Christianity holds this more nuanced view is important to understand.

Interesting, according to polls I've seen, most general tumblr users seem to agree with the idea that humanity is inherently good rather than inherently evil, which as a Christian, I think is a good thing. I believe we are all made in the image of God, I believe that we are loved beyond imagining, and I believe that every person on this Earth deserves love and respect. But of course, that brings us to the approximately 10% of tumblr users (an estimate from the polls I've stumbled across, may or may not be accurate) who are not down with the whole positive view of humanity. I've read some pro-humanity (though secular) responses to these "humanity is bad" posts, which assert that while the people that hurt OP (the person insisting humans are inherently bad and don’t deserve redemption) are bad people, and deserving of condemnation, this doesn't reflect humanity as a whole. To an extent, I agree with that view, but a some point along the line, you start to run into a problem. The problem being the human tendency to make mistakes and do bad things that can seriously hurt people and then we run into the dilemma of determining what is a forgivable mistake and what is a cancellable and unforgiveable transgression. How do you decide who gets sorted into the majority "good" humanity group and the minority "bad" humanity group? Okay, there are probably some things most of us agree on, we probably agree murder is very very bad and a serious crime, and we probably agree everyone makes mistakes sometimes and other situations are more nuanced, so some things are forgivable and understandable, but how do you decide where the line is for what is forgivable and what isn't when most people out there probably disagree with you on at least one thing?

At this point you might be thinking, "Well Bods, if you don't believe that humanity is inherently awful or that humans are perfect or good all the time, then what exactly do you believe? Isn't Christianity about recognizing your own horribleness and hating yourself unless you love God? If not, then what is it?" Again, the short answer is a more nuanced view, but since you wanted to know more about my stand on forgiveness and I get a lot of compliments on my fics about how I portray redemption and character flaws, and characters' journeys towards redemption, and all of that comes directly from my Christian beliefs, I thought I'd do more of a deep dive.

The first point I'd like to make is in regards to the idea that "Catholic Guilt" (and I'll get more into what I mean by that later), or the idea that humility, self-insight, and recognizing our own flaws is inherently a bad thing. It's not, in fact, it's necessary for us to make positive change and to grow, and it can be toxic for us and for others when we aren't willing to recognize or at least be open to our own shortcomings. And the idea that guilt and recognizing our own failings can be a good thing is not an exclusively Catholic or even exclusively Christian idea. We all have seen those TikToks that are like "POV the worst person you know just got back from therapy and concluded that everyone else is the problem and they are the one being gaslighted and they are a victim who deserves better🤦🏻‍♀️" and to some extent, I think we all know someone like this (or maybe even have been someone like this). And it’s so frustrating sometimes, because you just want to grab them (or your past self) by the shoulders and be like "No! It's not other people! Not all the time! YOU are the problem sometimes! YOU are the reason your life is falling apart! And aren't you tired? Aren't you tired of being miserable, aren't you tired of losing friends, aren't you tired of being such a hateful person all the time? Don't you want to get better? Don't you want to be happy? Why are you resisting your chance to get better? Why would you ever run from that?" and when it comes to the posts about the concept of "Catholic guilt" or "Christian guilt" or even "guilt" in general being an inherently bad thing, it's hard for me to agree that its an entirely toxic concept, because there are so many times when you see remorseless criminals or even just bullies who don't care about the people they insult or when it comes to the fic I write, horrible fictional characters you wish were real just so you can scream in their face "No! You SHOULD feel bad about this. You hurt someone, you shouldn't feel remorseless, its weird that you don't on some level feel upset, because you should! You should care about other people. You should care! You should feel bad!" And it's clear why we want these people (and characters in regards to writing) to feel bad. Because guilt and recognition of error is often the first step to grace, the first step towards being a better person than you were before. You want them to feel bad because you want to save them and you want the evil they are doing to stop. Guilt is the first step to achieving both those things. If you aren't able to have the humility and self-insight to recognize your capacity to hurt others, act selfishly, and do bad things sometimes, then you don't have any hope of getting better. And that's only going to led to more hurt and more pain, for you and for others.

Before I continue with this point, I'm sure there are secularists reading this who are like "well, I would agree with you, but that's not what I think or mean when I say "Catholic Guilt" at all!" so I did want to first mention something I see a lot of posts in reference to "Catholic guilt" talking about OCD and other mental health issues and how the concept of guilt, especially religious guilt, can be damaging to those with mental health issues. As someone who has struggled with a lot of mental health issues and has personally known many devout and practicing Catholics with diagnosed OCD (and has mutuals with OCD, hi guys), when I say "guilt is a gift from God" and "guilt is a good thing", I want to make this point VERY clear: Guilt is a gift not because it drives you to despair, desperation, self-hatred, and self-harm/self-destruction, but because it drives you to joy, love, repentance, and being a better person. Guilt should be the first step towards grace, and that includes recognizing your great potential for goodness, for love, and for replacing all of the bad stuff you used to do with good things instead. It might start out as a painful experience, but ultimately, should fill you with joy and gratitude that you were able to recognize where you went wrong so that you can go on to live a better life. Anything that encourages self-hate and self-harm is not a gift from God or anyone else. That's not what "Catholic Guilt" is or should be. The scripture is clear that despairing in our own weakness or flaws is not the answer. The Church is clear that despairing in our own weakness or flaws is not the answer. I could honestly make a whole separate post on religion and mental health issues, because there are so many times when I will hear people (therapists unfortunately) look at cases like this and say "oh the whole problem here is this person's terrible religion and culture. If they would only leave it and recognize how objectively bad it is, then they wouldn't be so miserable and everything would be all better" like...no. The problem is that they have a obvious and serious mental health issue that you should be diagnosing and treating rather than advising them to get rid of their only support systems, and this is a huge part of the reason why people often like to go to therapists from their own religion and culture, because they are able to recognize what is actually considered "normal" and what isn't. There are so many other examples and I could do a separate post on this topic alone, but I think you get the point.

But then of course, even after establishing a proper definition of guilt and its utility, we come to the other extreme of "okay, if Christianity really does believe in the inherent God created goodness of everyone despite the fact that we as humans often mess up a lot, then how do you explain the fact that a lot of horrible people do a lot of really bad things, sometimes in the name of Christianity? And then this supposedly loving God just expects us to forgive them like they didn't do anything wrong?" And this is where the whole nuance of the "Catholic Guilt" thing comes in. Because while I still get weird looks from people when I say that guilt is a gift from God, I still stand by that belief because the whole point of feeling guilty about something is that it motivates you to change your behavior and be a better person. That is a good thing. Because if all these horrible people truly felt bad about what they did, and truly repented, you would see clear and obvious changes in their behavior. The Bible (and Church) are clear that Christian forgiveness is not, nor has ever been, a "get-out-of-jail" free card (though sadly many people, even devoutly religious people, treat it that way and that's something that I and many priests, nuns, and devoutly religious Christians I know are greatly ashamed of). Christian forgiveness and repentance, at its core, it's a call to conversation and a call to make amends, often more amends than society says you "need to" and my Christian followers will know that biblical examples of this clearly illustrate exactly what that means and what it looks like (I can give you some in detail if you want, but this rant is already kinda long). If abusers, murderers, the worst of the worst etc. were really sorry and remorseful about what they did and the harm their behaviors caused, they would spend the rest of their lives working to make up for it, no matter what the sacrifice. In some cases, they might even go to court and beg a judge to put them in jail for life just to ensure that they never hurt anyone else again, no matter how much money, power, or influence they have that could get them out of consequences or how much of a "promising athlete" or whatever they were because protecting innocent people is far more important than whatever they had going for them. Repentance might also involve accepting that you're never going to see your family again, because you've hurt them too much and need to respect their decision to establish boundaries to put themselves in a healthy place. It might involve not only paying back the money you stole from someone, but also paying them back with excessive interest because of the financial hardships they had to endure after their loss. That's the level of repentance we're talking about here. In fact, that last one is an example straight from scripture. And it's beautiful to see it.

So whenever someone asks me "Oh as a Christian, you believe EVERYONE can go to heaven? You hope that EVERYONE gets to heaven? Even [X] group of people? Disgusting." my reply is "Well, technically, yes, I do hope for that, but unfortunately, I don't think most people in [X] group are going to heaven and that makes me very sad." The reason being because if most of the people in this group (murderers, abusers, you can fill in the blank) were sorry about what they did, and were actually interested in accepting God's mercy and judgment and all that comes with it, they'd be acting very differently and how much better for us all and for them if they did chose that option. But it's not really surprising to me that they don't, because you need to get pretty far from God, humanity, self-awareness, compassion, and humility to even consider doing most of those things in the first place. So it shouldn't be shocking that those with the greatest need for repentance and mercy have the least desire for it. That doesn't mean it's impossible or never happens. God's grace is strong enough to reach everyone and anyone, and what a beautiful thing it is when it reaches the worst of us and this person who was hurting so many people is not only not doing those bad things anymore, but devoting their lives and themselves to making sure it never happens again and that they are fully held responsible for what they did. Turning something or someone so terrible into a force for good and positive change in the world is one of my favorite parts of my religion and one of the reasons I love so many saints, but sadly, it's so rare to see it.

Unfortunately, I think part of the reason for the rarity is the dichotomy between Christians and secularists alike who believe that Christian forgiveness or non-religious concepts of self-acceptance, self-love, and self-kindness are "get-out-of-jail" free cards and the cancel culture that says that anyone who makes a mistake deserves to be immediately and publicly shamed and held accountable for the harm they've caused with no hope of redemption. It's this weird blend of practicing and preaching kindness and forgiveness towards yourself and to people in general, but not tolerating anything from other people or extending that same grace towards others, and I think this worldview can be just as toxic as having self-shame and self-hatred while tolerating abuse and negativity from others. And Christians are not the only ones who see the problem with this either, secularists on tumblr have spoken a lot about this too, and I've seen a lot of posts about internet culture and how everyone is afraid of posting the wrong thing because "what if you accidently offend someone?" "what if you get cancelled?" and lots of people have made a really good point that if we as a society aren't willing to forgive people for their past mistakes and give people that grace, than how does society have any hope of getting better? And I think they hit the nail on the head with that one, fantastic take. Believing that people can change and be better and each have a unique, invaluable contribution to make to this world is part of my faith. Again, it doesn't diminish the reality of what they've done, the damage they caused, or the serious and real need to make amends, but it does give them hope, a future, and an opportunity to no only stop doing something bad, but start doing something good. I'll also add that part of forgiving others comes with having the self-insight and humility to recognize that sometimes we mess up too, and no one is immune to propaganda, bad days, brainwashing, thoughtless comments, the victim to victimizer pipeline, impulsive decisions, and being wrong, not even you. That doesn't mean you should hate yourself or despair when you mess up, you should be forgiving and kind to yourself, just like you're forgiving and kind to others, but you should also recognize the reality of what happened and work earnestly and sincerely to make amends. It takes practice, and I'm not saying its easy, but I certainly think its worth it. And for my Christian mutuals who are reading this post and saying to themselves, "Wait a minute, Bods. "be forgiving and kind to yourself, just as you're forgiving and kind to others?" that sounds a lot like "Love your neighbor as yourself", part of Christ's greatest commandment?" Yes. Yes it does. Because it is. And it all comes back around to that in the end doesn't it?

And this all brings us to our conclusion and one of my favorite posts on this whole website and something I think about a lot, which is the post about how "there are going to be a shocking number of people that you don’t like in heaven, and you will rejoice at their presence when the time comes". I love that post. It sums it up the Christian concept of heaven so nicely. I know it probably sounds really weird to a secular audience to rejoice at seeing someone in heaven that you don't like, but to a Christian, it’s a wonderful thing. Because it means that whatever was inside them that cause them to hurt others is completely gone now. They are different now, and in extreme cases, quite possibly to the point where you don't even recognize them anymore and it feels like meeting them for the first time. I would say the joy you'd feel at seeing them again in heaven comes from the fact that they aren't hurting people anymore and are a good or better person now, but that doesn't even fully capture the magnitude of what's happening, because the concept of sin and evil in Christianity is different than the concept of sin and evil in some other faiths and secular society. Evil is not considered an equal opposite to good. Good is more powerful in Christianity, and evil is merely a destruction, perversion of, or absence of that good. In the Christian worldview, choosing evil > good doesn't mean you "switched sides/went to the dark side", it means that you rejected goodness and destroyed part of yourself, and in those extreme cases of hatred and callousness I mentioned, maybe even destroyed most of yourself. And now, in heaven, glory be to God, you're back! You didn't just change teams, you came back, we came back. This is who we were always supposed to be, it might not look anything like what we thought it would, it rarely does, and you were probably wrong about some things, I was probably wrong about some things too, maybe a lot of things, but thank goodness we're here now, thank goodness we made it, thank goodness I get the incredible privilege of being able to experience the beautiful and wonderful person that is you. I know to those who aren't Christian and are reading this post out of interest, that sounds like super weird idea of heaven, and I get that. Forgiveness and acceptance of others is not a fun or easy thing to do. Forget spending the rest of eternity with someone who greatly hurt people, I think most of us would be disappointed at the idea of getting to heaven only to discover we'd be sharing and spending our blissful eternity with that classmate we can't stand or our annoying coworker. And they didn't even do anything bad, we just really don't like that guy. But that's what heaven is. That's what salvation is. It's love for everyone eternally. We will see those we don't like on Earth in heaven and rejoice at their presence just as those who didn't like us on Earth will rejoice at our presence. I know that when we picture those we've hurt and those that hurt us, or even those we just don't get along with, it's difficult to understand how this could ever be possible, because we don't experience that in our lives very often, and we as finite beings can't fully conceptualize what an infinity in heaven will look like, at least not in this life, and that's part of what faith is. All we can really do is trust God and that whatever that's going to look like is going to be more wonderful and healing than anything imaginable.

Okay, so now that I've explained more about the Christian worldview (sorry it's so long, I like to ramble unfortunately 😭) your question about grudges:

My explanation of the Christian worldview only explains why we forgive our enemies and want them in heaven and rejoice at them in heaven. But obviously this world isn't heaven, and not all our enemies are exactly eager to accept that they might be the problem or embrace the gospel of love and repentance. At least some of mine aren't, I'm not sure about the rest of you. So what do we do? Why does God want us to let go of grudges and forgive people who aren't interested in repentance? Are we supposed to just tolerate the abuse?

The answer is that loving someone and recognizing your own dignity and right to be safe and healthy are not two mutually exclusive things. I have cut family members out of my life because they were toxic and if I needed to, I'd do it again. This isn't because I hate them. I love them. I want to see them in heaven someday. I want to spend eternity with them in a world where it is healthy and beneficial to be around them. But it's just not healthy for me to have a relationship with them right now. That doesn't mean I'll ever stop loving or praying for them. And I recognize that's a lot easier to say than to put into practice. Healthy boundaries are one thing, but forgiveness is another. And Christian teachings on forgiveness are pretty extreme, and seem strangely paradoxical at first. It holds to the seriousness and gravity of the damage sin does while insisting that nothing and no one is beyond hope. It's righteous anger and lamentation at how much we've used sin and hatred to hurt each other and it's joy and ecstasy at how God's love and mercy trumps all that. In the bible, one of Jesus' disciples asks him how much he should forgive someone if they keep offending him, and asks if he should forgive him 7 times. Jesus' response is not 7 times, but 70 x 7, or for as long as you want the Lord your God to forgive you. That's a tall order. I get that. Even when you establish healthy boundaries, the hurt, the anger, the pain, the injustice, it's all still there.

But the thing about that hurt and anger and bitterness is, for as much as we didn't ask for it, it doesn't do us any good. The quote “Resentment is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.” has been attributed to so many people, but regardless of who said it first, it makes an important point. Stewing in bitterness and resentment won't hurt the person that hurt us. It only turns us into a bitter and resentful person. I do want to add to this post in case any other curious secularists are reading this that you don't just need to be a Christian to believe that letting go of grudges is good for you. I study psychology, and I understand people, regardless of their faith or lack of faith background don't like the nuance on this topic, so let me break it down. No, your intrusive thoughts related to mental illness, trauma, and disability are not what Jesus was talking about here, those are not sins, but although your intrusive thoughts and emotions might not be your fault, this does not mean that you have zero responsibility or accountability for any thought or emotion you might have. See, the brain is strange and complicated thing. It controls you, and yet, you control it just as much. If you want to be a loving and kind person, the best way to do so is by thinking kind thoughts and doing kind things for others. Even if you don't want to be doing this things or don't like doing it, your brain will eventually start to adjust, assuming that this is what you enjoy and who you are because you keep doing kind things and thinking positively about others. Basically, your brain thinks to itself “well I must enjoy volunteering, I do it all the time” and “I must not hate her that much if I go out of my way to be kind to her anyway”. You might not be able to chose what others do to you, or your immediate thoughts and emotions about it. But you can chose what content you spend your time consuming and what you consciously choose to think about and your brain will adjust accordingly. You can chose to think good things even when its hard. If you are righteously or justifiably angry about what happened to you, you can use that energy to protect others from what happened to you instead of seeking violent revenge on those that wronged you and consciously ruminating on how much you hate them and imagining bad things to happening to them (note again the difference between justice and revenge and the difference between intentionally and joyfully dreaming of vengeance and violence vs. intrusive thoughts you didn't ask for).

Of course, this is all much easier said than done. I won’t pretend that it’s not. But the good news is, we don't have to forgive alone. God knows it's hard for us. He's there every step of the way. Throughout the bible, Jesus talks about how when you sin against someone else, you sin against God (and vis versa, when you do something good for others, you do it for God, etc.). He knows exactly how much it hurt you. That's never lost on him. He also knows how much you've hurt others, but also how much you've done for others. He knows everything about you, and he loves you so much he died and went to hell and back for you (and would do it again if he had to). He also says that the redeemed versions of our enemies are worth fighting for and that he doesn't want to see anyone destroy themselves with bitterness and resentment or hurt themselves anymore than they've already been hurt. That doesn't mean letting our enemies into their lives. It also doesn't mean our enemies will ever choose accept God's mercy, because they might not. And it doesn't have to happen overnight or be easy. Speaking from experience, it rarely happens overnight or is ever easy. It's often a step by step daily commitment to thinking positive thoughts and turning our hurt and anger at someone into love for others. It's what we're called to do as Christians, and it's part of our path to sainthood.

And while it might be a very unpopular opinion, when it comes to my enemies, even the really bad ones, I would be very happy to see them in heaven. Yes, I’d be happy because if we didn't forgive people and allow for that grace, they wouldn't have hope of getting better, and yes, I’d be happy because of the great goodness that comes from them when they chose repentance, but also I’d be happy to see them in heaven because I'm so curious to see what they look like without all the sin. I want to meet the person God died for and would die for again and again if that’s what it took to get you back. I want to see sin that destroys us defeated and I want to see all of you in heaven. I think you guys are really cool.

Anyway, sorry it’s so long, but that’s my answer. I’m not a theologian or anything, but I hope this was satisfactory. Thanks for stopping by!

[glitchy-haha]

So I thought of something.

(Edit to give you a quick warning that most of this is not going to make any sense and I'm probably gonna end up rewriting this so I recommend you just skip this but if you wanna read it you can. Enjoy this dumbass comparison.)

After comparing the two, I've noticed the (kinda) similarities between when Kitana meets Mileena for the first time (in MK9) and when Mateo basically gets cloned (in DreamZzz season 2).

These similarities have led to me coming up with something called "The Mileena and Kitana Trope" (I am aware they are probably not the first ones who have the good guy fights evil cloned twin thing, but they are somewhat the first ones I even remember have this dynamic, so until I come up with a better name or find out this already has a name, this is what you are gonna get.)

To avoid any sort of confusion (which will probably happen regardless I'm sorry), I'm gonna explain what the hell I mean by going over each situation.

SPOILER WARNING FOR BOTH MK9 AND DREAMZZZ. BEWARE OF SPOILERS.

(I'm not entirely educated on the story of Mortal Kombat and Madteo only really appears in the last two episodes of season 2 (part 1) so please correct me if I'm wrong on anything.)

(I forgot to mention this, but feel free to give your opinion. I would love to hear your thoughts.)

Let's start with MK9.

In MK9 (Kitana's Chapter), after defeating Jade, Kitana walks into the Flesh Pits, discovering a bunch horrors that I'm not even gonna talk about because that's not really the main focus here.

Among these horrors, lies Mileena, Kitana's sister (clone really), and Shang Tsung's "perfection" of Kitana, lying on this weird, fleshy table thing. When Kitana gets closer, Mileena wakes up, and somehow, already seems to know who the hell Kitana is (someone please explain this to me) and starts calling her sister, yapping about them being a family.

So yeah anyway they fight and Mileena loses. Then Kitana fights Shang Tsung and also wins. However, her victory is kinda short lived when she found out that Shao Kahn approves of the existence of Mileena and has Kitana escorted to be executed for helping the good guys.

There's more to this but I wanna focus on this specific moment in the game.

Now let's move on to DreamZzz.

In DreamZzz (Season 2 - Episodes 9-10), The Never Witch uses Mateo's memories and negative traits to make Madteo, who rises from the cauldron like a zombie rising from it's grave for some reason.

However, Mateo dipped before he got to see Madteo be created, so he only got to see him in episode 10, right before he murks Phil (my poor baby-).

They never directly fight in this episode due to the fact that Madteo was busy basically trapping Castle Nocturnia in some sort of small dome thing, but judging by what happens in a clip in the teaser for season two, they are supposed to battle at some point, along with the others and their clones (Although Astrid does not have a clone from what it looks like.)

However, in episode 10, The Never Witch and Madteo successful trap the entirety of Castle Nocturnia in that crystal dome thing, with Mateo, Izzie, Cooper, Logan, Zoey, Astrid, and Z-Blob being the only survivors.

So after explaining all of that, I'm gonna explain the trope in question.

- Good guy gets cloned, basically now having an evil twin.

- Good guy finds out they got an evil twin.

- Good guy fights their evil twin.

- Good guy either wins or loses depending on where the story is supposed to go.

*Bonus points if the evil twin if favored by the main bad guy.

So yeah, that's all I got for now. Probably gonna update this or come up with a part 2 when part 2 for season two of DreamZzz comes out, cause then we'll probably get more on Madteo in general.

Also, to clarify, even thought I haven't fully checked out the story, the new MK game, MK1, is not gonna be involved in this, as the Mileena there is not a clone from what I heard, but the actual sister of Kitana.

Anyway stupid little thing done. Bye!

[myopicry]

Ty again for responding to my question! This ask is less of a question and more of a mini ramble/vent of my own, idk if you'll find this interesting, pls don't feel obliged to answer this, if not I'll be back with more interesting stuff sooner or later. (disclaimer: im unsure of what terminology to use when) I don't consider myself as a radfem or GC, but in my past month or so of consistent lurking i'd say i've adopted some of the perspectives and opinions, whilst still being supportive of trans ppl and wanting feminism to result in equality between the sexes (i personally believe that this equality and the liberation of women aren't mutually exclusive but that's a different can of worms, also not saying that radfems and GCs can't also be those things). So it kind of shocks me when I at times return to more trans positive/inclusive (?) spaces and see how they talk about TERFs or just radfems in general. I'm skipping the part about how I don't see their arguments in the same light anymore, and more focusing on how they talk about those groups (while most of the time seemingly not having properly looked into them). Like, I have my fair share of criticisms for those 2 communities as an outsider looking in, but they're a lot more constructive and not as "automatic, knee-jerk reaction"-ish than what I've seen from TRAs(?). Furthermore, although I don't think radfems and GCs are necessarily always the nicest to trans ppl or even other qu**r groups, I've seen them being willing to engage in civil debates, clarifying that they don't wish harm on the opposite side/expressing some sympathy to at least a part of the opposite side, denouncing the issues within their own communities, encouraging each other to participate in more "tangible" activism (ex: volunteering at women's shelters), etc more commonly and on a more regular basis than TRAs (?) (not sure what terminology to use lol sorry).

What's even more surprising is that I feel like I can have a civil conversation with most, if not all, of my trans friends without it absolutely obliterating our friendship and mutual respect for each other and even ending up agreeing on some things, so it's odd to see such hostility towards even just *engaging with an opposing belief* and *asking more direct questions* online. Maybe it's more prevalent there than irl? Anyway, if you read this entire thing, thanks and I hope you found it entertaining at the very least x) 'till next time! ~🪼

hey I would be a hypocrite to not enjoy listening to other people ramble considering how much of it I do myself lmao

but also, I genuinely really enjoyed reading this! I totally agree with the sentiment. I did find it super interesting myself in my lurking journeys when the characterization of "terfs" was always built around word of mouth information, the worst faith interpretations of any radfem point, and constant reiteration of how they're irredeemable traditionalists who were completely not worth listening to and directly supporting hategroups (which. is pretty hyperbolic especially if you're addressing radblr lmao).

where as radfems always characterized "tras" directly with screenshots, literally listening to them and displaying them as they are. and yeah, even in radfem spaces where there can be varying disagreements, there is still some level of discussion or debate where you can trace back the discourse and see why they disagree. then, in contrast, when I lurk through broader lgbtq discourse,it's always full of calling people whatever-phobic and just never trying to understand the actual reasons behind any arguments. or it's people over-intellectualizing to the point of nonsense, then still turning around and straw-manning their opponent regardless.

and honestly, it probably is an online thing. the demographic of people online in these communities are just getting younger and everyone is getting more personal too. your identity and digital reputation are now "at stake" in the spaces you frequent, and all your friendships have become your "mutuals" who are an extension of your online personhood and credibility, so you MUST curate your space and your relationships to be unproblematic and aligned with popular opinion as to not be ostracized from these spaces and make yourself look bad.

In real life, people strive to care less what others think of them, and thus can entertain disagreement and nuance while not feeling threatened. online, people are quite literally incentivized to care what others think of them because what's the point of going online otherwise (yknow, if you disregard learning more about different perspectives and using the breadth of the world wide web to learn new things and deepen your understanding). ok, before I start ranting like a boomer comic strip on the "evils of social media" and how the youth are using the internet badly, I'll cut myself off :p

really really well written insights though anon! literally it is always a great time for me when I log on to this website and see you hanging out in the inbox! thank you, and I hope to see you soon !! ヾ(＾∇＾)

[pinkeoni]

Jancy Analysis: Jonathan & Nancy's Individual Conflicts

I've been talking about this over the course of a few different posts and asks, but I thought I would make one cohesive post about it in order to coherently organize all of my thoughts on this.

I'm not going to tag this as anti j*ncy because it's actually pro-jancy endgame, but I am going to be talking in depth about the issues in their relationship and a possible breakup, so I understand if any Jancy shippers might wanna skip this one.

As many may have seen, I've been making several posts somewhat stating that I think that Nancy and Jonathan will likely break up very early in the next season. HOWEVER, I want to clarify that I don't think that this necessarily has to affect their status as a couple at the end of the season. A couple can still be endgame even if they took time apart! I also don't think that this is indicative of how they actually feel about each other. Unlike m*leven, I think they love each other very much! I just think that they are likely going to break up as a natural progression of how their story beats have laid out.

In 4x01 we are introduced to Jonathan and Nancy's conflict for the season; they are having miscommunication issues and will not be seeing each other for spring break.

Here's the thing that makes this heartbreaking— both of them actually perfectly understand the others wants and needs. Nancy isn't going to pry Jonathan away from his family and Jonathan isn't going to take Nancy away from the work that she is passionate about. They love each other so much that they can't see each other.

What leads me to believe that they are breaking up is the fact that this miscommunication is never actually discussed. They have a moment where they say that "they're good," but this wasn't actually addressing the issue. Furthermore, they end with Jonathan still hasn't told Nancy about not applying to Emerson, and Nancy isn’t being honest about Steve (no, I don’t think St*ncy is gonna happen, but that plotline did happen so it there’s no use in ignoring it!). This leaves open a huge plot point that still needs to be resolved!

This lie is actually similar to the painting lie, at least in terms of how it's being used within the writing. Because this lie is not resolved by the end of season 4, it leads me to believe that once this lie does get brought up then it will not end with things staying the exact same way that it was, otherwise what was the point of setting it up in the first place? Not only would it feel unsatisfying, but it would feel like a total cop out.

I don't think that Jancy breaking up would be a bad thing for their arc as a whole, it would not only add more interest and drama but it would also give the characters space to resolve their individual conflicts.

The reasons for why they don't see each other over Spring Break actually reveal bigger conflicts for each character: Jonathan has been lying to Nancy about college because he can't leave his family, and Nancy can't take herself away from what she's working on in order to be with him.

I'll start with Jonathan since I've actually talked about this before and his problem is more identifiable. Ever since their dad left, Jonathan has felt responsible for taking care of his family, something that he shouldn't have to do. He sacrifices parts of himself in order to protect his family, including being with the people he loves and going to the school he wants to go to (which is NYU btw and NOT Emerson!).

Nancy actually has the opposite problem, she is so involved with her work that it often gets in between her and the people that she loves. After Nancy goes on her spiel to Fred about why she can't see Jonathan, she turns down Mike's D&D game! We are shown a clear example of her prioritizing work over family!

Both of these conflicts is what leads to Jonathan and Nancy having their argument in season 3, an argument that doesn't really get resolved, they just decide to make up because there’s bigger fish to fry. Although, as I stated above, it does seemNow, their argument in this season is pretty complex. They're both right... and they’re both wrong. Nancy was right to get upset at her employers for their sexism, but she was also wrong for not considering Jonathan's position. Jonathan was wrong for not considering Nancy's feelings, but he was also right for getting angry at her for losing him the job. It's not a black and white situation.

To clarify, I don't think that Nacy being a working woman is a bad thing, nor do I think that Jonathan deeply caring for his family is a bad thing! But I think the reason that both of these arcs are here is for the sake of showing balance. How to balance what you want for your future with the ones that you love.

Now, as I talked about earlier, it does seem like they do understand their personal wants and needs now in season four, but those reasons for the argument in the first place are still there. Neither Nancy nor Jonathan have resolved these issues, and failing to do so will only continue to cause problems in the future, no matter how much they both love each other. That isn’t the problem in their relationship unlike M*leven

Yes Nancy and Jonathan don't need to break up in order to resolve their individual conflicts, but I think separation would at least help create focus. And as stated above, I see their breakup as pretty inevitable anyways. After that though, I think the possibility for endgame is still there. For myself personally I'd be open to either endgame or not, and especially if they get their situation sorted out than I would love to see them together in the end.