#which is why his yell almost feels cathartic?

[mixsethaddams]

Steve was having a really bad day.

He forgot to pass on a message to a co-worker which, ok, wasn’t the end of the world exactly, but it made his insides squirm.

He forgot to write a list for his boss which, again, nothing that couldn’t be rectified, but it made his palms itch.

A customer yelled at him over something out of his control and he had to stand there and take it because what is retail if not the first circle of hell.

Steve sat in the break room and wished his coffee was hotter while he ran his hands through his hair.

“It’s just one of those days,” he told himself over and over. “It’ll be over soon,”

He wasn’t working the next day so he was counting down the very seconds until he could dart out the front door and not have to come back for a whole forty hours.

Things didn’t improve after he swallowed his lukewarm coffee and went back to his duties. Everything he said seemed to land wrong. Everything he did seemed to need redoing. It felt like his co-workers were annoyed with him even though he knew that realistically they had no reason to be. Steve’s jaw was sore from clenching it shut, trying not to burst into tears right there in the store and hold it together at least until he got to his car.

Even staying an extra fifteen minutes after he should have left to help someone finish a task they were struggling ended up being the wrong thing to do. Why did he stay? Had he clocked out? He should have. Did he not know that overtime needed to be approved a day in advance?

Steve let the feeling of the latest failure of the day wash over him as he grabbed his things and left after his shift.

Eddie wasn’t even going to be home when he got back. He was running a campaign for his D&D group which was being hosted in Gareth’s place a full fucking two hour’s drive away. Eddie was just going to be staying the night there and coming back tomorrow, instead of driving home when they finished. It made sense. It was going to be a ten-hour session and they didn’t even start until almost noon. It was just something that happened every other week and Steve usually enjoyed having a few hours to himself but today he would have killed to have his boyfriend waiting for him.

Steve’s lip wobbled while he drove. His eyes were misty and he was blinking rapidly to keep them clear. He was determined to get home before fully breaking down. He just wanted to order dinner, wrap himself up in every blanket he could find, and watch the latest episode of Married At First Sight. When he finally got back to their apartment, his phone pinged with a text from Eddie.

“Hope work was ok! I’ll call you before I go to sleep later? We’ve got about four hours left”

Steve sighed at the screen. Eddie always called him to say goodnight when he stayed at Gareth’s. Usually Steve loved it because Eddie would be a little bit drunk after having some post-session beers with his friend and they’d giggle together on a video call until Eddie’s eyelids drooped. Tonight though Steve wasn’t sure he could handle the reminder that he was alone when he wanted so badly to be held.

“Long day. Probably just crash soon as I’m home”

“You good?”

“Just tired. Hope you’re having fun :) “

Steve regretted the food he ordered for dinner. He wanted the orange chicken but for some reason he ordered sweet and sour pork. It wasn’t bad, it was fine, but the chicken was his favourite and it almost felt like a form of punishment for his bad day. So now Steve was crying uncontrollably over a container of rice. He felt so stupid but it was just one more thing that had gone wrong for him today. Crying at this point didn’t even feel cathartic. It just gave him a headache and made his throat dry.

He didn’t finish his food, and he didn’t watch TV. Steve dragged himself to his bedroom, leaving his clothes in a pile in front of the dresser he grabbed his sweatpants from, before he took a pill for his headache and fell, unshowered, into bed. It was still bright outside.

Steve felt the bed dip next to him. For the briefest moment a kind of raw panic gripped his chest and he was too scared to open his eyes. It wasn’t until he felt a familiar brush of fingertips over his temple, sweeping strands of hair out of his face, that he calmed down.

“Stevie?”

Eddie whispered it softly and Steve opened his eyes. The room was dark, but there was a navy blue hue, like the sun was only barely below the horizon, that meant Steve could still see Eddie’s outline.

“What time is it?” mumbled Steve.

“Almost nine,” said Eddie gently, still rubbing his hand through Steve’s hair.

Steve scrunched his nose. Nine? That wasn’t right? It wasn’t bright enough to be morning. He peered up at his alarm clock, still flashing the same date it had been when he closed his eyes before fitful sleep.

Steve sat up quickly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, panicked again. “Why are you here, what happened?”

Steve knew Eddie’s D&D sessions never cut short for anything less than a national emergency so he was instantly on high alert. Eddie driving all the way home was even more concerning. Steve gripped Eddie’s arms, he was still wearing his leather jacket. It was cold from being outside. He lifted the edges of the jacket as if he was checking to make sure Eddie was all in one piece.

“Nothing happened,” soothed Eddie. “We just finished up early,”

Steve was still looking over Eddie’s body like he was expecting to find a missing limb or something.

“What?” asked Steve, confused. “Why?”

Eddie shrugged.

“Wasn’t feeling the vibe,” he said easily. “I plugged the plug and said I needed to get home,”

“You never finish early,” said Steve. “And you never drive home. What happened?”

Eddie sighed.

“Why don’t you tell me?” asked Eddie gently, reaching up to cup Steve’s cheek.

Steve gulped.

“I don’t…” stuttered Steve. “Nothing, what do you mean?”

“Baby,” said Eddie firmly.

Steve chewed his lip to stop it trembling.

“I just had a bad day,” said Steve quietly. “You didn’t need��� You could have stayed out there,”

Eddie gently pulled Steve forward, so he could rest his head in the crook of Eddie’s neck. Steve breathed in the well-known smell of cologne and cigarettes smoked outside. He practically melted into it.

“Thought this might be where I was needed more,” murmured Eddie, twisting around on the edge of the bed to allow Steve to relax more comfortably into his hiding place. “Looks like I was right, hmm?”

“Ruined your game though,” said Steve, muffled against the leather of Eddie’s jacket. “I just had a bad day,”

“It’s not ruined,” assured Eddie as Steve’s arms wrapped around his shoulders. “Knowing I left you here by yourself after a bad day is what would have ruined it,”

“I didn’t even say anything,” sighed Steve. Eddie was running a comforting hand over his back.

“You didn’t need to,” said Eddie. “Soon as you didn’t ask for a more solid time to expect me to call you, that’s when I knew,”

Steve sniffed back a tear.

“So dumb…” said Steve, frustrated almost more than ever with himself now. “I’m sorry, this is so fucking dumb,”

Eddie shushed him gently.

“No it’s not,” said Eddie, nuzzling into Steve’s hair. “Sometimes things creep up on you like this. It happens,”

“I wish it didn’t,” admitted Steve, pulling back to look at Eddie.

Eddie rested their foreheads together.

“I’m always here for when it does, though,” said Eddie softly.

Steve closed his eyes and let Eddie take him into another embrace, holding him tight for what could have been seconds or hours.

Steve didn’t remember when Eddie finally slipped his jacket off. He didn’t remember feeling him sliding into bed next to him, gathering him up and holding him as close as he could. Steve just remembered the feeling of Eddie heartbeat against his own chest, the sound of his breathing, his fingertips scratching gently against Steve’s scalp.

All Steve knew was feeling safe. Protected. Like one bad day was no longer drowning him because now, he remembered how to keep his head above water.

[meowzfordayz]

stressed — zenitsu, kyojuro, sanemi

Author’s Note: you ARE enough❣️ You ARE loved❣️ You WILL be okay❣️

stressed — zenitsu, kyojuro, sanemi

Agatsuma Zenitsu x Reader, Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader, Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader

Word Count: ~700

CW: none

Emergency Request Fulfilled: I started taking a lot harder classes this year and it’s killing me and my impostor syndrome because I’m so slow compared to everyone else. It’s making me depressed/stressed so I wanted to request a pick me up request.

stressed — enmu, genya, muichiro

~faqs~

Lowkey gets stressed too 🙃

Does his best to hide it, but Zenitsu’s an open book, so it doesn’t stay hidden for long

Sometimes he’ll even sense your stress before you do

“Are you okay Zeni? You seem stressed.”

“I’m fine!” ☺️

…

…

*realization hits*

Zenitsu: Are you stressed? 🥺

You: Nooo, you’re stressed! 😒

Zenitsu: But I’m not? 🥲

You: Well your stress is stressing me out! 😖

Zenitsu: But I’m not stressed?! 🫠

*insert Spiderman meme here*

Affirmations

Once you’ve determined that you’re both adequately stressed 💀😂

Zenitsu brings out ✨The Jar of Affirmation✨

Aka your equivalent of scrolling through cheesy, inspirational social media posts when you’re feeling low

Zenitsu: YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL! 😍

You: YOU ARE CAPABLE! 😎

Zenitsu: YOU ARE SMART! 🤓

You: YOU ARE DETERMINED! 😤

It’s kinda cathartic to yell/be yelled at, y’know? 🥰😆

Lovingly, ofc

Your stress hits close to home for Kyojuro (imposter syndrome, inadequacy), but he’s unsure how to support you

Which is not to say that he doesn’t try

Bc he does try, a lot and often 🥺

But a pin pricking feeling that he isn’t quite cut out for comforting you frequently surfaces

“I can order takeout and build a pillow fort for us to watch a movie in together? Would that be okay?”

Your stress fades to a gentle, manageable pulse as Kyojuro’s tender doubt gnaws at your chest, your arms hugging him into your warmth as you murmur softly

“That would be absolutely perfect. Thank you for taking care of me.”

—

He still questions his ability to ease your burdens as you snuggle into his side, plastic containers and utensils spread out on the fluffy blanket beneath you, a thin canopy of cotton sheet and fairy lights billowing above

Could I have decorated better? 😕

Why did I make us sit on the floor?! 😞

But he allows himself a lingering, adoring smile when you begin making airplane noises, happily opening his mouth to accept your forkful of pad Thai

“I love you!” you grin, darting in to peck his nose

“I wuv y’u too!” he declares, the tips of his ears as red as his heart

He’s convinced that pad Thai’s never tasted so delicious

Knows your favorite snacks better than he knows himself, and won’t hesitate to walk to the corner store to buy you a lil snick snack

“Kyo, it’s almost midnight. I’m fine.” 😝

“Your stomach rumbled.” ☹️

“I can eat in the morning.”

“Fine.” 

…

…

“I shall wait until midnight, at which point it will be morning.” 😎

“What if I fall asleep before you get back?”

“Then I guess you will most certainly eat in the morning.” 😌

Doesn’t let you lift a finger, sometimes to the extent that your stress morphs to anger 🤪

“I said I was stressed, not incapable.” 😐

“Me helping you is a testament of my love, not a commentary on your ability.” 🤨

“You aren’t helping me! You’re infantilizing me!” 😖

“I in fact have not put you in a diaper nor made you suck on a pacifier.” 😃

“I will dye your hair while you’re asleep.” 😒

“Would a spa day reduce your stress?”

“No, but watching your reaction to waking up with green hair would.” 😌

“If you somehow manage to dye my hair without waking me up, then I guess I deserve it.” 🙃

“Could you at least let me wash my dishes? Or put toothpaste on my own toothbrush?” 😕

“No and Yes. Okay?”

“I want to tie my shoelaces too.”

“You can do one shoe.” 😉

“Whatever.” 🙄🥰

Gets you out and about

Whether it’s joining him on a grocery run or just walking around the block

Sanemi knows a change of scenery can refresh and remove the monotony of stress

He’ll even coax you into photoshoots

“Stop. You need a picture underneath that tree.”

“Wait, the sunlight is framing your face so beautifully.”

“Let’s take a selfie together.”

Not bc he loves being your personal photographer 🥴, but bc he sees how much you brighten at his softness 🥺

Sees how happy his explicit (albeit occasionally disgruntled) affection makes you

… maybe selfies aren’t so bad after all 

[pandorasprongs]

INTERLUDE | are we still friends?

'it's nice to have a friend' fic masterlist + playlist | previous chapter

PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.2k

SUMMARY: after months of ghosting, reader finally gets to talk to jamie again at the end of her second year.

WARNINGS: language

A/N: so we're going back in time to when reader's in uni and early in jamie's man city career :) hope u all enjoy! (also i know frats aren't a thing in the uk but i didn't find that out till after i published the prologue rip) i'd also suggest listening to 'are we still friends?' by tyler the creator for this chapter too just for the vibes — also!! thank you so much for 200 followers it's insane so many of you enjoy my fics :))

Age 19

"And that's it for this semester! Congrats everyone!" Your professor greets the room as the last person finishes their presentation. The room cheers, — albeit weakly given that most of the students there were coming down from their finals week caffeine addiction, — and everyone soon starts filing out.

You pass by your professor on the way out with Liv and hand her the trinket that the two of you planned on giving out to all of the professors you've had this semester. Some out of gratitude, some to make them feel guilty for the low marks they've given. This certain professor, a lady in her mid-40s who has been in the STEM area of research for years, had designated the two of you her favorites.

"Thank you so much, ladies. It was such a pleasure having the two of you in my class." You both give her a warm smile before heading into the hall. 

When you make it outside of the building, Liv lets out a cathartic scream of relief. "It's finally done!" You laugh at your friend's reaction. You were glad too, but not enough to yell in public.

As you headed back to your student hall, you pulled out your phone. It had become routine to message Jamie every time you were heading back to Manchester, which you were the next week when your parents picked you up.

Hey Jamie! How've you been? How's Man City? Saw the match with Cardiff, you did great.

You press send before adding on, If you're still here, maybe you want to meet up before you go back? I'm heading back to Manchester next week too if you want to meet up then instead. 

You send that too and type out I miss you, but after glancing at the rest of your unread messages, you delete it and sigh in defeat.

You don't even know why you're still trying. You haven't spoken to Jamie in months. No, it's almost been a year. The last time you did was when you went home for the summer holiday after your first year of uni, but even then, Jamie seemed distant and cold. He left the lunch early too after he got a call from his manager, much to your dismay. Even before that, his messages to you were getting less and less frequent till he finally stopped replying a few months into your second year.

Maybe it stung more knowing it was around the time you left that you realized how really felt about him. It wasn't just platonic love anymore; you might've actually been in love with your best friend then. But those feelings have since disappeared, at the same rate that Jamie disappeared from your life.

So now you were in a pub, supposedly celebrating the end of your second year in uni, but you couldn't stop staring at your phone, waiting for a reply. You've been re-reading your message to him and staring at that delivered in the corner until you finally broke out of the trance thanks to one of your friends calling out to you.

"Oi! You're not even tipsy. Are you playing or not?" Tina asks and you shut your phone before shifting your focus to the conversation. Right, you're playing Never Have I Ever.

"Shit, sorry," you apologize before lifting your hand. "I am now. What's the last one?"

"It was never have I ever slept with a footballer," Liv explains quickly, but the entire group had this knowing look on their faces that told you everything they thought of you.

Maybe it was fueled by the anger directed at said footballer or the fact that you knew they all thought you were a prude for not having hooked up with anyone the whole time in uni, — as far as they knew, — but you give them a knowing look that caused everyone's expressions to shift.

"No fucking way, you have?" Sam asks and you take a shot as confirmation.

"Technically yes," you explain but decide to hide which player it was. Because if they knew it was one of the up-and-comings of the Premier League, you'd never hear the end of it. Plus, one of them was bound to snitch to a newspaper for sure. "Back when I was 17 and before I left for uni, I slept with someone who ended up getting scouted." You neglect to mention that someone was your best friend, who agreed to be your first time because you were sure you'd make a bad decision the moment you stepped foot in a uni.

If they knew where you were from, they would've figured it out instantly. But you didn't have a Mancunian accent and none of them had ever bothered to ask where you were from over these two years — except Liv, who was no longer paying attention to the whole game and just scrolling on her phone, — so you were basically in the clear.

They moved on from your grand revelation quickly and continued with the game. At the end of it, you were probably the most sober out of all of them, so you ordered a Cosmopolitan. Maybe alcohol led to bad decisions, but at least it kept you off your phone.

You continued to talk with your friends till Tina gasped. You all turn to her to ask what happened when she exclaims, pretty loudly, "Looks like all of us have a chance at checking 'hooking up with a footballer' off our lists tonight." She giggles before leaning back into her seat.

You join the rest of them to look at what Tina had just seen and realize that not one, but two teams' worth of players had just walked into the pub. From Cardiff City and... Man City.

You already feel your heartbeat quickening and your eyes instantly start looking for Jamie in the crowd. The thoughts of 'he has to be here,' and 'he can't be here,' battle it out in your head, but when your eyes finally land on your former best friend, you don't know if the butterflies in your stomach are a good thing or not.

"Well, fuck it." You hear one of the girls you're with say as she downs another shot and gets up from the table. Some of the others join her in the group, but you're still frozen from nerves. Best way to heat up? More cocktails.

You watch with the other girls from a distance as the braver ones take their chances with the footballers on the other side of the bar. But for most of it, you can't take your eyes off Jamie. 

He looks really different, like bad different. He's loud and boisterous, but not in the way he was before. You watch how he talks to his teammates and you can almost see how his overconfidence masks the level of insecurity he has with much older players. Or maybe you're overthinking it. You haven't seen him in a while.

When your friends get back to the table along with some new drinks and stories, you try and listen intently. But you really couldn't stop looking behind them.

You don't think Jamie's felt your eyes on him, so you weren't worried he'd turn and see you staring. But if he did, you wondered how he'd react. Would he go wide-eyed and stare back or just look away as if he didn't just spot his best friend of a decade at a pub? You were about to find out.

After downing one of the drinks in front of you, — you weren't even sure if you were the one who ordered that one, to be honest — you excuse yourself from the table. When they saw where you were walking over to, they decided to start cheering. It did help your nerves, even though you were approaching them for different reasons.

"Jamie!" You get his attention and the moment his eyes land on yours, shock fills his face. You almost scoff at that. He goes to the place where you're studying and assumes that he wouldn't run into you?

You didn't even plan out what you were going to say, so instead you sarcastically greet, "Nice to see you here. In Cardiff. Where I go to uni."

Jamie doesn't say anything and just continues to stare at you. His cocky facade almost slips too, till one of the other Man City players rests his arms on Jamie's shoulders and he suddenly tenses. You've seen him before, probably in one of those tabloid articles, judging from his overall demeanor. He seemed like the type to get into those scandals.

"Ah fuck, I thought we got rid of you lot already. Don't you have enough drinks from your friends over there?" George, you finally remembered his name, states and you're taken aback. He must've seen you coming from that direction.

"No, I'm not here for that." You answer bluntly before turning back to Jamie, starting to get annoyed. "Are you seriously not going to say anything?" 

The Jamie you knew would be the first to defend you, even if it was just over someone knocking into you in the halls or stealing your pens. But it wasn't that you were after, honestly. You just wanted him to say something, anything at all.

"You know her, Tartt?" George scoffs and looks at Jamie. When Jamie continues to stay silent and just looks down at his feet, he chuckles and nudges the younger footballer. "A past hook-up, huh? Judging by your reaction. No need to be embarrassed, Jamie," he glances back at you and tries to whisper, "She's quite fit. Well, by your standards."

You roll your eyes, the anger starting to bubble. Now, Jamie had to say something right? But seeing no reaction, you correct him yourself. "Look, I'm not one of his bitter exes. I'm his..." You actually don't how to end that sentence.

George takes advantage of your pause and by now, some of the footballers around them had turned their attention to the scene. "Look woman, I don't care who you are to him, but take. the. fucking. hint."

You still don't remove your eyes from him. "Jamie," you whisper, almost pleading at that point.

Jamie looks up and seeing the multiple eyes on him at the moment, he finally speaks up, "You want an autograph or something? We're trying to enjoy our night, so I'll sign a napkin for you and you can be on your way."

The coldness in his response causes you to stumble and you take a step back. What did he just say to you? You try and search his face for any sign of remorse or guilt. Something that says, 'Please don't hate me, I didn’t mean it.' Nothing.

The sounds of the other footballers laughing don’t help either; it only contributes to the rising feeling of heat and embarrassment in you. You can feel the tears starting to form. There's no reason for you to break down in front of all of them, so you answer quickly, "Right. No need. Sorry for disturbing your night." 

You turn around quickly, but not without hearing George ask Jamie who you were. For a second, you almost thought he'd give him the truth.

"Dunno, probably some fan I met before." That breaks the dam and the first few tears drop to your cheeks. A crying girl isn't an irregular sight at a bar, but you really didn't feel like staying in the same place as Jamie anymore.

You approach the table to grab your things when you notice that most of your friends had already scattered across the pub. The only one left there was Liv, — who was the designated driver for tonight despite your university being a 5-minute walk away — who notices your tear-stained face and is quick to rush over to you. "What's wrong? What happened?"

You shake your head. "Don't worry. I just want to head back." Liv hadn't even known you for two years, but she knew that you weren't one to talk about your feelings. Instead, she nodded and offered to help you out of the pub, but you shook your head once again. You had a relatively high limit and partner it with what just happened with Jamie, you were practically sober. You grabbed your clutch and coat before rushing out of the place, furiously wiping the teams from your face.

Fuck Jamie Tartt. Fuck those Man City losers. Fuck everyone involved in turning your best friend into whoever that was. The boy you once knew was gone. Fully and completely gone. You had to accept that.

But even then, you thought you'd hear the door open behind you. You thought it would be Jamie. You thought he'd chase after you. You thought he'd pull you into a hug. You thought he'd apologize for what he did and for everything. You thought he'd cradle your face as he did so. You thought he'd plant a tender kiss on your lips as an apology too. You thought he'd re-enter your life as if nothing had changed.

But he did none of that. 

And you went home alone.

—

"(Y/N)? It's Liv, again!" You hear from the other side of your door, but make no attempt to move from your position in your bed. It was just too comfortable, perfect for wallowing in when you've officially ended the longest friendship you've ever had. Liv continues, "I'm heading home soon, but I asked Donna if she could keep bringing food for you to your door till you head home."

You were touched by the gesture but knew you weren't going to touch any of those bags till late at night when the hall was completely deserted. Till then, you'd be sleeping. Your parents had delayed picking you up till the last day and you've never been more glad about that.

"See you next semester! Love you!" were Liv's parting words and once you heard her footsteps recede, you fell back to sleep.

In all honestly, you've lost track of time at that point. Yeah, it was pathetic sitting in your room as if you were mourning the death of a loved one, but it's not like anyone cared. Well, Liv did, which is why she started bringing you food when she realized you weren't leaving your room, but she was heading home to London. Your parents had no idea what happened and you intended to keep it that way. The rest of your friends were off with their own lives, not even giving you a second thought. Jamie sure as hell didn't care what happened to you. He made that clear.

So for the rest of your time left in the hall, you just stayed in your room. Like a hermit. Jamie would've found it funny, you thought once, till it caused you to burst into tears once again. The more you tried to forget Jamie, the more you thought of him, which was the worst loop you could be in.

He's even in your dreams. One of them felt so real because you were in your exact position in reality when your phone rang. You saw his name as the caller, but 'dream you' just pressed decline. Even deleted the missed call notification. Good for her.

Then, you wake up to a missed call and a text from your mom. On route to Cardiff! Can't wait to see you, sweetie. 

Ah, fuck. Had that much time really passed? You jumped out of your bed and start fixing up. Technically, you had 3 and a half hours to do so, but counting showering, cleaning up your suitcases from your dusty closet, and shoving almost a years worth of items into said suitcases, then you were in a bind and never prayed for traffic more in your life.

And from the sheer fear of your parents giving you a sermon in front of the entire building, you almost forgot about your former state of wallowing in self-pity. Then you were faced with taking down the decorations on your wall. 

There was a mix of everything from school banners, even flyers, and pictures you'd taken with your friends and parents. You started with those first until the only ones left were the ones related to Jamie. You had pictures with him from multiple stages of your life. There was one from the first football match of his you ever attended and one from your graduation, too. 

You had kept the note he made you when you were 16 and you joined your first individual debate tournament. ‘Fucking smash it!’ was scrawled in his handwriting on a post-it note, which you've hung on your wall since your first year of uni. 

Even the rings he used to buy you for your birthday till his mom told him to find something new. You slowly pulled them from your desk drawer and realized there were only four. One missing. They were old anyway. You end up shrugging it off and placing them into your suitcase.

When you started inserting the rest of the items into an envelope, you continue to look at that picture with Jamie from when you were seven. Suddenly overcome by an emotion — rage, pity, nostalgia, you're not really sure, — you crumple it with your two hands and hold it like that for a few seconds. 

You finally let go and see the two distorted faces, you're suddenly overcome by feelings of guilt. 7-year-old Jamie didn't do anything wrong; what was the point of taking your frustrations on a picture of him? Maybe you can throw darts at a printed photo of the current Jamie when you get home instead.

You flatten the picture as best you can before putting it back into the pile in the envelope. You finish packing your desk and place all the items into one of your suitcases. You look around the room, satisfied. Sure, your sheets weren't made yet, but you were going to leave the place anyway and you needed to shower. It was 40 minutes till your parents would knock on your door, — as seen in the picture they sent of the GPS — so it was more than enough for you to get ready.

Time passed by quickly and soon, your dad was helping bring your bags down to the car while your mom talked about how much weight you've lost while you were away, like they always did. 

"Oh! Jamie, he had a game against Cardiff last week, right?" Your dad remembers as he starts the car. You almost freeze at the name, but turn to look out the window to avoid your parents catching whatever expression you had on your face. You were too tired to mask it properly.

"Yes, he was amazing!" Your mom exclaimed before asking. "Georgie said she told him to meet up with you here. Did he?"

"No," you answered quickly. You never lied to your parents, which is probably why they accepted your response so easily. You don't look back at them and continue to look at the passing trees. "Must've been busy."

A/N: yeah... and there you go! here's what happened that night in the pub and hopefully it makes me much more clear why reader still holds something against jamie! we're going back to the present day timeline for the next one so stay tuned!

TAGLIST: @moonflowersandsparkles @faith-alons26 @rexorangecouny @aiyaiy @thegirlthatwantedtowrite @giggling-sewer-ginger @katdahlali @higherthanheroes @guccilongboard @alipap3 @rockchickrebel @ellietartt @shineforever19 @skewedcherries @jamietarttdodo @meg-ro @deepdarkvelvet @taytaylala12 @scaramou @rae4725 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo (couldn't tag you for some reason?)

[azure-firecracker]

💥🥳🦋

Yahoo thank you for the ask! Sorry this took so long!

The game is here.

💥What is one canon thing that you wish you could change?

Number of times Scully gets kidnapped in the exact same way (they clearly know how to put characters in danger in a variety of ways so it doesn’t feel repetitive- they did it with Mulder). So I would lessen that, and I would add more role reversals to even it out. Y’all know that I am constantly doing this with fanfic:)

I would also want the show to pay more attention to Scully’s agency, because it gets taken away a lot, and she’s the female main character, and the writers’ room was mostly men, and I just…do not like that.

🥳 Why did you start writing fanfic?

I started writing fanfic for Six: The Musical in spring 2020 when I was locked in my house and looking for ways to connect and find an outlet for my creative imagination that wasn’t theater. Writing turned out to be really great because I could essentially act out stories to myself and then write them down (and still do this) and it helped me find a new community. I’ve traditionally written the most since then at times when I’ve been the most isolated or lonely (COVID, 9th grade year abroad, summer after a rough senior year), but now I’m realizing how much joy it brings me, and I’m trying to keep making time for it in college, even though my mental health is much better.

🦋 Which character is your favorite to write?

Back when I was in the ATLA fandom, I really loved writing Azula. A lot of her fears and motivations were similar to mine, and her angsty thoughts when I wrote her did often parallel my own (though not exactly-and demeanor wise we’re quite different). Writing her was often cathartic and served as an outlet for me - but she was also badass and a lot more of a fighter than I am, so having her be able to do that even with the same flaws I had was nice.

But in terms of Mulder and Scully my current loves, it honestly depends on what the situation requires. I will say Scully comes more easily to me, because I find writing women easier and I’m also a bit more like her, but Mulder when he’s in the throes of his guilt complex or being super duper tender is wonderful to write. The guilt complex is just so layered and tragic, and the way Mulder loves with his whole heart is such a lovely thing to write about. I almost feel like I’m a part of it. For Scully, her internal monologue is so articulate and clever and thought-out, and that’s quite satisfying to write. I’m also a sucker for badass Scully, so anytime she’s on the warpath and gets to yell and point her gun at bad guys and save her coworker/boyfriend/who knows is just self-indulgent and fun for me.

This got long! Tysm for asking😊😊😊

[koraesrambles]

Thoughts on the conclusion of Gotham War

Alright, so I've made it absolutely no secret that I've been enjoying the crap out of Gotham War. Is it structurally sound with good pacing and clear stakes? HELL no. It's not an air tight story, there are so many holes in all of the characters logic, but it is also an extremely good time.

I don't mind loose storylines in comics like this. Mostly because the premise "full grown man dresses up as a bat and cannot stop himself from mass adopting every orphan that looks like him" is already so ridiculous that anything they posit as a solution in their "war on crime" I think, "Yeah, I can see that." None of the rules of this world make sense.

But I don't really read most things for their air tight plot. Slight detour (There's a point, I swear!), but some perfect examples of this are Puss in Boots and the Last Wish and The Super Mario Bro movie. The last wish is PHENOMENAL. A literal work of art. I've seen it so many times and just basked in it's beauty. Love everything about it, absolutely stellar. But do you know what movie made me look up fan content, read fics, and forced me to buy the digital copy of the movie before the DVD came out? Yep. Mario Bros.

Why? Because I like stories about brothers who love each other and the mario movie gave me exactly that. It's not an air tight, phenomonal story with gorgeous real world applications, but it gave me a fun time where two characters worried about each other incessantly and honestly? that is what I'm here for.

So back to Gotham War. If I'm not actually looking for a ground breaking story (which honestly, I know those happen in these big super hero comic books but I feel like they're usually the *exception* rather than the rule) and just want good character interactions, then Gotham War delivered phenomenally. Especially since my favorite character was the one constantly being wrung through the wringer.

It was a great time. I enjoyed reading it, the art is better than anything I could ever produce even when the characters made weird faces. It was great. But did they stick the ending?

Eh, endings are hard. I would love to see more consequences for Bruce. Him just going off at the end and getting away with the horrible things he did to Jason is annoying. I almost wanted Jason to actually die at the end there, just so that Bruce would feel stupid and sad. If Bruce never acknowledges what he did to Jason (which . . . he probably won't, given the track record) then I'll be pretty disappointed. That's some juicy angst right there that should absolutely be addressed.

And I appreciated that literally every character that interacted with Bruce that knew about what he'd done yelled at him for it. Even Dick's seeming about-face at the end with "I'm sure you had your reasons" came after two weeks of getting used to the idea AND him trying to actually get Bruce to make good choices for once. I mean, Bruce doesn't, but A for effort, Dick. Thanks for punching him in the face last time, that was cathartic.

I surprisingly really like the fact that it wasn't Zur who did this to Jason. It was Bruce. Horrible, wacked-out, messed up Bruce Wayne who is so desperate to control everything around him and so terrified of losing the people he loves that he constantly overrides them like they're his freaking pets. Bruce is in a BAD place, and I sure hope that there will be tons of fics exploring that even if canon never acknowledges it.

But that's how I deal with comic universes like this. Everyone jokes that "Canon? what canon!" and we all laugh but honestly . . .yeah. Like, seriously. Canon is whatever works for the writer's plot in the moment. They make stuff up and contradict themselves all the time. They're constantly retconning stuff. It doesn't take away from any of the stories I like, I can still read them. And at this point, legitimately, I approach every single comic I come up on as though it's an AU. There is no canon timeline for me, because it's too messy. DC is literally just an AO3 platform that's allowed to make money.

Because the people who originally created these characters are long gone. These guys (gender neutral) writing and drawing the comics now are just fans like we all are. It's all fake. None of it is real. So let's all just have a good time.

I was talking to some friends about this and they pointed out, "It's difficult because people feel like when they're constantly screwing around with things like that why should they even care about the characters?" And they were absolutely right, that's extremely frustrating to deal with. I put a lot of emotional investment into characters, but every writer is going to approach the characters differently and with a universe like DC has, you just have to roll with it. There are no stakes. We all complain about it, but nothing is done to change it because we love these characters and we'll keep coming back for more, and so they keep having to make more content and that means messing with stuff they already have. It's a never ending cycle. These are living legends, mythology that's being written out in real time. Nothing about them are ever going to be cohesive.

Wow this is getting long, sorry about that. Things I loved about the Gotham War conclusion: Jason almost sacrificing himself and being a hero even though he was terrified. A+ content. Gorgeous, you go my boy! Tim telling everyone how to beat up all the rouges (Good job sweetheart, way to be a morally ambiguous little shit like you always are). Even if he claimed to be the second best robin at the end, those are fighting words my man. I also liked Jason's "Go 'save' another one of your sons." jab. That was great. I liked that everyone told Bruce he was wrong, even if it could have been stronger. The rest of the issue was plot stuff that I didn't really care too much about. I really like Bat/Cat, so I didn't mind those scenes too much even though Bruce is still the worst (affectionate AND derogatory).

I didn't really expect anything spectacular from the conclusion, and it really did end kind of like what I expected (nothing's changed except now Jason gets to deal with the Joker when he's sick with Super Anxiety -- which I actually am really excited for). But it wasn't as much fun as some of the previous issues.

That said, I would not mind owning an omnibus of all the gotham war issues, if just to re-read all of my favorite scenes. There were some truly unhinged crap in there, and that's just my cup of tea.

Story telling quality? eh, 6/10

enjoyment had? 9/10

[banannabethchase]

Ride on You - also on AO3

~

Matt had thought Adam was joking about the mustache, but also, Adam kind of wants to see how he reacts when the mustache is under Matt.

~

I really fucking lovehate those mustaches. Title from Ride by SoMo.

~

“I thought you were effing kidding,” is the first thing Matt says with Adam answers his FaceTime.

Adam grins at him. “What, you don’t like the new look?”

“I – it – that’s not the point!” he huffs. “I made a bet.”

Adam raises an eyebrow. “A bet.”

“Yes, a bet,” Matt grumbles. He turns the camera to Nick, sitting there with the funniest look on his face.

“I won,” Nick says and he does what Adam has to believe is a happy dance.

Matt groans and flops back onto the couch. “I hate you so much.”

“Anybody wanna clue me in here?” Adam asks. He likes seeing Matt flustered, usually more so when Matt’s next to him and he’s doing the flustering, but, as a general rule, he likes to know why.

“I told him,” Matt says, flashing the camera back to Nick’s shit eating grin for a second, “that I bet you were joking about the mustache.” He sighs. “But no. You had to go out there looking like Magnum PI and make me lose five hundred dollars.”

Adam chokes on his coffee. “You bet him five hundred dollars that I was exaggerating my mustache?”

“Joking about it,” Matt clarifies. “And yes. I had faith in you.” He sighs, long suffering. “And now you look like Magnum TA.”

“I thought you said PI,” Adam replies.

Matt shakes his head, and it could almost be called disappointed but there’s definitely a smile behind his eyes. “TA is more accurate.”

“Hold on a sec.” Adam pulls up and searches. “Oh, fuck you! I don’t have a mullet!”

“You don’t,” Nick says, “but the hair color and mustache are right on target.”

“I still have the beard!”

Matt cackles on the other end of the phone, and Adam aches at the distance. “You do, but the point still stands.” He calms, finally. “Miss you.”

“Oh, ew,” Nick says, rolling his eyes. “I’m out. You two be gross on your own.”

“Later, dude!”

Matt smiles. “Everything okay at Dynamite?”

Adam shrugs. “Lots of shit going down. I miss you two, and Kenny.” He presses his lips together. He knows it weighs on all of them that World’s End was the first pay per view without any of the Elite, that the first episodes of the year have felt a little strange to watch without knowing Nick and Matt are behind the scenes. “It feels weird.”

“I know,” Matt says gently. “I wish I were home.”

“If you were, I wouldn’t be there,” Adam chuckles.

“Yeah – okay, you know what I mean,” Matt says, and even the way he rolls his eyes makes Adam’s chest ache. “This stupid moving company issue is really getting in the way.”

“The couch’ll get here soon,” Adam promises. “One more day of you yelling at the transport people and it’ll be on a truck.” He fights a smile. “And, until then, we have my couch.”

“Your couch is garbage and I hate it,” Matt says, for the millionth time. “And you look stupid with the mustache.”

“I do not!” Adam says. He checks his image in the mirror. It’s not as bad as Matt thinks it is. At least, he hopes. “Is it that bad?”

Matt frowns. “No. It’s fine. It’s weirdly hot, but that’s why I hate it.”

“Great!” Adam says. “I’m gonna go antagonize Swerve now.”

Matt’s face falls. “You’re going to what?!”

“Later, baby!” Adam blows a kiss to Matt through the phone. “I’ll talk to you later.”

He does antagonize Swerve, which was cathartic as always, but there’s less blood than he’d hoped so he’s still a little antsy when he gets back to the hotel.

He makes Matt wait while he showers and gets dressed, because annoying him is kind of fun, then finally answers the fifth FaceTime call.

“God, finally,” Matt says. His face is sweaty and his hair is in a disaster that may have once been a neat bun. “How are you? Not dead I see.” He smiles, looking both beatific and chaotic. “Good.” He wrinkles his nose. “Well, you’re good. The mustache.”

“You know you love it,” Adam says, touching it. “You wanna get all over this.”

Matt’s face turning bright red is unexpected.

“Oh!” Adam says. “Oh, you’re into it, alright.”

“Shut up,” Matt grumbles. “Get home as soon as you can tomorrow so I can shave that stupid thing off your face.”

Adam snorts. “Sure, baby. Give it a try.”

He didn’t expect Matt to actually mean it. When Matt gets back to the house the next day, he chases Adam around with a razor.

“Get over here!” Matt yells. “I’m gonna shave that thing off if it kills me!”

“No you won’t!” Adam yells back to him. He stops short in the hallway before the bedroom and ducks Matt’s wild swing, grabbing him by the waist and throwing him over his shoulder. “There you go. Now I’ve got you where I want you.”

“You do not,” Matt says. He pokes Adam in the back, and he hopes it’s with a finger and not with the razor. “I could shave your pants off from here.”

“Oh no,” Adam says, walking to the bedroom. He Alabama slams Matt onto the bed. “Whatever could I do without pants.”

Matt rolls his eyes. “You suck.”

“You know I do.”

Matt groans and rolls over. “Look, I love this, but I’m so effing tired and I need, like, eight hours of sleep and a long hot shower before you give me stache burn.”

Adam raises an eyebrow. “Huh. That something you’re thinking about?” He leans over Matt and kisses him, deep and promising. “Wanna get some stache burn between your thighs?”

Matt shivers. “Yes, but not right now,” he mumbles. “Tired.”

“Course, baby,” Adam kisses him again, then on the nose, forehead, and top of the head. “Want some alone time?”

“Yes,” Matt says. His eyes are already drooping. “Need a nap.”

Matt’s eyes are fully closed as he fights with the blankets. Eventually, Adam takes pity on him and arranges his limbs to be under the bed. Matt sighs, snuggling up.

“Take my jeans,” Matt mumbles. He shoves them up at Adam. “And can I have one of your hoodies?”

“Are you cold?”

Matt shakes his head. “Smells like you,” he mumbles.

Adam’s chest twists. “Of course.” He grabs his favorite hoodie, one he got years ago at one of the first AEW events, and Matt shoves it under his head and inhales, settling in with a tiny smile.

That could have been the moment, he thinks, but Matt had to go and fall asleep.

Adam busies himself with throwing Matt’s clothes in the washer and starting Operation Mincemeat for the third time in the past three years. It’s comfortable, in his living room chair, but he gets distracted by every little sound, hoping it’s Matt ready to wake up and hang out.

He misses him. Matt’s in the other room, and Adam misses him.

Hopefully, with the couch finally on the way to Virginia, he won’t have to anymore.

He’s on page 156, stomach starting to growl, when he hears Matt stir.

“Good morning sleepyhead,” Adam calls. “Except it’s four in the afternoon, so good afternoon.”

Matt pads out, in Adam’s hoodie and a pair of boxers.

“Oh, fuck you,” Adam sighs. “You look adorable. Get over here.”

Matt, still half asleep, stumbles and falls into Adam’s lap.

“Sometimes I look at you and your giant arms and capacity to commit actual murder and I forget how cute you can be.” He yanks Matt in. “You feel better?”

Matt nods, yawning. “Yeah. I still smell like airplane.”

Adam leans in and sniffs Matt’s hair. “I guess. You wanna take a shower?”

Matt shakes his head. “I need to eat something first.”

They Door Dash sushi and eat curled up on the couch, rewatching Dynamite.

“Genuinely the worst mustache the world has ever seen,” Matt says, dipping his nigiri in his soy sauce and wasabi mixture. “I hate it even in person.”

“You do not,” Adam says. He wipes his mouth and sets down his plate. “You’re into it.”

“I absolutely am not,” Matt retorts, glaring. “It’s terrible. Awful, even. I won’t kiss you until you shave it off.”

Adam raises an eyebrow. “You’ve already kissed me.”

“I have not!”

“You have.”

Matt huffs. “Technically, you kissed me.”

“Does that mean you won’t want me to give you beard burn?”

“Oh, I do,” Matt says. “But quickly. I think I’m getting tired again.”

They exchange laughter-laden blow jobs on Adam’s old couch with Matt insulting the mustache the whole time. He does leave mustache burn, but kisses it better.  

~

The week is busy, with Matt and Nick preparing for their return to AEW. Nick flies in Saturday morning so they can all fly to Jacksonville together and hang out.

“I love him,” Matt sighs, burying his face into Adam’s chest the night before their Tuesday flight, “but he really is the biggest cock block in the world.”

“You are not allowed to have sex while I’m in the house,” Nick yells. “And yes, I can hear you.”

“You don’t have to announce it.”

Adam rolls his eyes. “I forget how annoying the two of you are together.”

At the same time they yell, “Me?!”

It’ll be a relief, Adam realizes, when they finally get the place to themselves in a few days.

The whirlwind of getting into Jacksonville again, of hiding the Bucks, of Adam preparing for the match against Claudio, keeps them apart. Adam is itching to get his hands on Matt, really get him worked up and under him into that desperate territory where all he can do is beg for more and say Adam’s name. But they were apart, and then they had Nick, and now they’re at work.

Adam beats the crap out of Claudio with half a boner, simply because the thought of Matt finally being behind the cameras watching him wrestle has him hot and bothered. But he gets pulled away before he can get to Matt, and then he’s got no choice but to go out there and speak his two cents to Joe and Swerve, and then –

“What the fuck?!” he cackles. “What are – what?!” He can’t speak. He’s bent in half laughing. “They’re so stupid!”

“Correct,” Claudio says, eyeing him. “But it feels strange of you to say that to your boyfriend and his brother. May I get by please?”

Adam shuffles and waves him on, not even tempted to kick his ass again. “I meant the mustaches,” he chokes out. “But sure, yeah. Insult them. They deserve it.”

“Rude,” Matt grumbles, adjusting his jacket. “We just returned from weeks away and this is how you repay me?”

Adam straightens and wipes tears from his eyes. “I’ve seen you a bunch, baby, but not with that caterpillar on your faces.” He laughs out the last few giggles. “This your idea?”

“Mine,” Nick says, looking giddy. “We took inspiration from you looking like an idiot.”

“Hey!”

“You insult us, we insult you,” Matt says. He stands on his toes and kisses Adam, quickly. “But, um. We’re needed to help with Rampage.” The pout is somehow even more absurd with the pencil thin mustache. “We won’t be back tonight in time –” Matt seems to remember himself and stops.

“In time for what?” Nick asks. Adam watches him silently for it to click. It happens faster than he expects, to Nick’s credit. “Oh, gross. I hate both of you.”

“You do not!” Matt calls after him. He turns back to Adam. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Adam insists. He leans down and kisses Matt’s forehead. “Soon. We live together now. We’ll have all the time in the world.” He can feel himself beaming down at Matt, like a big old dork, but at least Matt is beaming back at him too.

“You two are sickening,” Anna says, staring at Adam. He stares back, and she smiles. “Good. If anybody has to be gross around here, at least it’s you.”

He doesn’t know when she decided to like him. He’s just happy it happened.

~

He’s asleep when he hears the door unlock. Matt likes to think he’s quiet when he sneaks in, but Adam wakes up to every little noise when he’s waiting for Matt to get back, whether they’re at home or at a hotel. He rolls over and smiles. “Baby,” he mumbles. He half remembers reaching out and pulling Matt back into bed when he wakes up the next morning, still curled around Matt, hard as nails and ready to go.

He’s pretty sure he hasn’t gone this long without fucking Matt since their breakup in 2020, and it feels awful. He nuzzles into Matt’s side, arms sliding under Matt’s shirt, when Matt’s alarm goes off and Matt jolts awake.

“I meant to change that,” he says, shuffling so he’s sitting. He turns to Adam with a frown. “I planned on seducing you and waking you up all sexy, but I, um…” He looks at the time. “Well, now we have two hours before we have to get on a plane.” He flops over Adam, which isn’t really doing much to help Adam’s raging boner. “I wanted you to rail me this morning.”

“I wanted to fuck you so hard we’d get charged for damaging the hotel bed,” Adam grumbles. He shifts to nuzzle Matt again, getting the mustache right behind Matt’s ear.

“No,” Matt says. “No. Don’t get me all riled up. It’s not a private jet this time. We can’t have sex in the airplane bathroom.”

Adam sighs, trying to hit the same level of dramatic that Matt seems to nail every time. “We can’t?”

“No!” Matt insists. “I mean, I want to. Obviously. But I don’t want to get arrested for public indecency.”

“Fair point.”

They flight home is quick but not painless. Matt seems determined to rile Adam up at any point – a hand on his thigh, a kiss to his cheek, random conversation. Some of it might just be Adam’s horniness. He’s not used to being the one struggling to keep it together. Since the beginning, he’s been the one messing with Matt. The tables have been turned and he’s not even the one who got to flip them.

By the time they get home, the two of them are stumbling into the room, hands all over each other.

“Stupid mustache,” Matt mumbles against Adam’s lips. “I hate it.”

“I think you’re into it,” Adam says, “just like you’re into me beating the shit out of Claudio.”

“Shut up,” Matt says, moaning.

“You still thinking of him!”

“No,” Matt says. “Yes. Of course. And you are, too, so don’t give me that look.”

Adam chuckles. “Only Mox.”

“I know,” Matt says, beaming. “Though I’m surprised you haven’t changed your mind on that. You looked like you were battling for dominance with Claudio.”

“Weren’t we?” Adam asks. He slides his hands up the back of Matt’s shirt. “And remind me. Who won?”

Matt goes pink. “Um. You did. Obviously.”

“What do I get for winning?”

Matt exhales so long and slowly Adam’s wondering if he’s about to pass out. “I still smell like airplane,” he says, and goddamn him for always having that on his mind, “so I’m going to go take a shower.” He’s so calm it must be intentional, “and when I get out, you’re going to be naked on the bed. Okay?”

“You were so close to being dominant, and then you added that sweet little ‘okay’ on the end,” Adam says. He leans in and kisses Matt’s forehead. “Anything else you want me to do?”

Matt opens his mouth and closes it. “I mean. I figured that was kind of obvious.”

“Good point. We’ll play it by ear.”

Adam whistles as he makes his way to the bedroom, picking up the trail of clothes Matt left on the floor and tosses them into the laundry basket. The warmth in his heart nearly overtakes him as he remembers this is permanent. Matt’s not flying back to California all the time, he’s not leaving in between Dynamites. They won’t split their time between their places.

This, their home, is their place.

He might have to fuck some domestic bliss into that man, just to assure himself that Matt’s feeling the same way about it.

Slowly, he strips. His clothes join Matt’s in the laundry basket, his belt gets hung on the hook next to Matt’s baseball cap rack, his sneakers are kicked off into the corner next to Matt’s favorites. It feels like home. It feels like his.

“Hurry up in there,” Adam says, and he can’t help but wrap a hand around his dick for some sort of relief. It’s not enough. It’s never enough, if Matt himself is an option.

“I’ll take my time, thanks,” Matt yells back.

Adam sighs. If that’s how it’s going to be. He walks into the bathroom and pulls open the curtain. Matt is standing there, looking smug.

“Took you long enough.”

It’s a three second scan to make sure Matt doesn’t still have soap in his hair and eyes, then Adam grabs him around the waist. Giggling, they make their way back to the bed, not caring that the sheets are getting drenched. Matt is warm and wet around him.

“Get up here,” Adam says, shuffling down on the bed.

“Up – where?”

“You’re riding my face tonight, baby,” Adam says. “Gonna make you see stars. And the positives of this mustache.”

Matt blinks. “You’re gonna make me associate the mustache with sex to make me like it, aren’t you.”

Adam shrugs. “Call it an experiment. You like how it feels? I get to keep it. You don’t? I’ll shave it off.”

“I could lie.”

Adam’s laughing as he says, “Yeah, like you would lie about something that gets you off.”

It takes a second for Matt to get in position, but he lowers himself down on Adam’s face so carefully it’s almost cute.

“You can sit all the way, baby,” Adam says, and tries not to feel like he’s speaking into Matt’s ass like a megaphone. “Go ahead. You won’t hurt me or the mustache.”

“Kinda wish I could hurt the mustache,” Matt says from above him, but he seems to lose some of the anxiety and hesitation and sits.

Adam feels smothered, yes, but in the best way possible. He thinks, if he has to go, this could be the way to do it. He licks up against Matt, aiming as best he can. After a moment’s probing he’s pretty sure he’s stuck on Matt’s taint so he grabs Matt’s hips and pulls him up. Matt’s delighted squeak tells him he’s adjusted him to the right place.

“Oh my god,” Matt says as Adam licks into him. It’s warm water and soap and Matt surrounding him, thighs tight around Adam’s head. “Damn it. This is so effing annoying.”

Adam laughs and moves his head. Matt moans.

“The stupid – it feels good,” Matt says. “Not – not your tongue, obviously that feels good…Oh, god, yes. I mean…I hate when you’re right.”

Adam massages Matt’s ass cheeks as he licks him open, trying to be thorough. It’s a little sore on his tongue since it’s been a while and Matt’s tense from hovering, but he’s more than happy to suffer it to hear the sounds coming from Matt.

“Okay, this – so good, but I need – I need –”

Lights are a little too bright and air is a little too freely available when Matt swings his legs off of Adam’s face. It takes a second to adjust.

“Get – now,” Matt demands. He’s flushed and panting, looking debauched and destroyed and Adam hasn’t even fucked him yet. It’s beautiful. He starts to shuffle backward but Adam catches his hips.

“Hold it,” Adam says, throwing his free hand out to open the drawer with the lube in it. He flicks it open and pours it on his hand. It’s too much, too messy, but the sheets will have to be changed anyway. “I’m not fucking you with just spit, not after this long.”

Matt whines. “But it’d be so good.”

Adam gets as much lube as he can on his cock, trying to think with his actual brain before letting Matt’s impulsive tendencies infect him, and releases his grip on Matt’s hip to get a better balance. He knows what Matt’s about to do, and it still feels like sinking into warm sheets in winter when Matt drops down onto his cock.

“Fucking – baby,” Adam sighs. He can’t move. His head is spinning. “You’re so goddamned tight.”

Matt’s grin is devilish. “You feel even bigger now that it’s been a while.” He rolls his hips and sighs, eyes fluttering shut. “God. I’m riding that mustache, like every day. Your tongue feel okay?”

“Kind of sore, but worth it,” Adam chuckles, but it’s choked off when Matt rises the tiniest bit on his knees and then drops back down. “Jesus Christ, Matty.” He rests his hand on Matt’s thigh before remembering it’s covered in lube. “Oops.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Matt says, breathy as he rocks. “We can change the sheets. I have those new ones in that box I have to unpack.”

“Because you live here now,” Adam says, and he wraps the lube covered hand around Matt’s cock. “You’re mine. You’re mine always.”

“Always,” Matt says. He looks transcendent as he rocks between Adam’s dick and his hand. “I – always. Never leaving. You’re going to have to be in me forever.” He whines. “God. Like this at work. I want – on your cock – when we’re working.” Nothing he’s saying even makes sense at this point, something about the desperation of how long it’s been getting under Matt’s skin, but Adam gets it.

“You still want me to fuck you all over, don’t you,” Adam asks, planting his feet so he can fuck up into Matt. “Grab you mid-Dynamite to bend you over a table? Interrupt a scrum with a fake emergency and fuck you with my hand over your mouth so the live cameras don’t pick it up?”

“Oh, god,” Matt whimpers. “Yes. I do. M-maybe – maybe you could push me under a desk when you’re doing signings. I can blow you while you’re signing eight by tens, try to mess up your – your signature.”

Adam nods. “Maybe I’ll get you in front of a camera and suck you off while you’re cutting a promo with a belt over your shoulder.”

Matt comes without any warning, all up to Adam’s chin and all over his chest and belly. Adam’s head spins with how much more impossibly vice-like Matt gets around him.

“Fucking Christ,” Adam growls. He grabs an arm around Matt’s back and flips them over, barely pulling out of him before he arranges Matt’s legs and slam back into him.

“Yes,” Matt gasps. He braces his arms against the headboard. “I want – give – harder.”

“Love it when you forget how to talk,” Adam laughs. He goes a little wild with it, a little possessive with the way he digs his fingers into Matt’s thighs. He wants to leave a mark. Knows Matt wants a memory there.

“Come on,” Matt says. “You can go harder than that.”

“Jesus – you already came!”

Matt grins. “Yeah, but you haven’t. And you like it when I get bitchy.”

Matt, infuriatingly, is right. Adam comes with a wordless shout, yanking Matt onto his cock with all his might. The room spins around him a little as his body rearranges itself around Matt.

“I think I managed to edge you,” Matt muses. “I mean, not on purpose. But I think I did.” He’s grinning. “Also, I expected you to make fun of the mustache at least once.”

“I was busy with my tongue in your ass,” Adam says. He carefully lowers Matt’s legs as he pulls out of him. “Maybe next time I use it to clean you up after.”

Matt swallows. “Is your tongue too sore right now?”

Adam laughs and nods. “Sorry, baby. You’re gonna be all messy.” He licks his lips. “You said I could do anything, right?”

Matt nods. “Yeah.”

Adam slides two fingers back into Matt who gasps, hips twitching. “Yeah,” he murmurs, “all messy. Gonna get you even messier.” Something primal rears up in him as he feels his fingers, slick with come and lube, glide in and out of Matt. This, Matt, them, is his. Forever. He wants to brand Matt with it, make everyone know it.

Matt squirms. “This – you look –” Adam watches as Matt’s dick starts to twitch with interest. “You look like you want to eat me alive.”

Adam shrugs. “Kind of already did.” He twitches his fingers up, exactly where he knows Matt’s prostate is.

“Fuck!” Matt shrieks. “Too – okay! Too much!”

Adam pulls his fingers out and rubs a gentle hand over Matt’s trembling thighs. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just – oh, my god.” His breathing slows back down. “That was like pressing on a broken bone or something, but in a good way?”

“You’re out of your goddamned mind, you know that?” Adam lays down next to Matt, arms open. “Normal people don’t consider pressing on a broken bone in any way good.”

“I don’t,” Matt says, curling into Adam’s chest. “Just – if it were a thing, that’s what it would be like.” He hums. “I think, maybe, you should keep going next time. Even if it is too much.”

“Oh, god,” Adam laughs, turning to press his face into Matt’s hair. “It’s like every experiment I come up with, you discover a new kink.”

“Two, this time,” Matt muses. “I got a thing for riding your mustache, too.”

“I still hate yours,” Adam says, and he leans in to kiss Matt despite the caterpillar. “Just want to make sure you know that.”

Matt shrugs. “As long as you still love me.”

Adam pulls back enough to look Matt in the eyes. “Always,” he promises.

The ring in the drawer feels like it echoes him. Always.

~

Mini Playlist: Haven't Had Enough - Marianas Trench Keep Riding Me - ur pretty Ride - SoMo Mine - Taylor Swift

[somebodylovesyougcv]

(i have time rn so i can craft this post and try to express it in the correct wording) ive been having so so many thoughts about bcs 4.02/4.03 and i need to share them. specifically about chuck’s letter to jimmy

here’s the thing: based off what ive read/listened to, the letter that jimmy reads at the end of 4.03 is the letter from chuck that he left in the will, that howard gave to kim in 4.02. BUT. when i first watched that episode, and every time ive seen it since, i always believed that chuck didn’t actually write the letter— kim wrote it, pretending to be chuck. Im unable to see it any other way

why do i think this? let me explain

- “i remember the day mom brought you home from the hospital. i can honestly say that ive never seen her happier” (this is me paraphrasing that section of the letter) it’s really hard for me to believe that chuck would write this in a letter for Jimmy. from what we can gauge from the show, one of the reasons why Chuck is jealous of Jimmy is because of the unwavering affection Jimmy received from their mother that Chuck did not get. Examples of this: Chuck never admitting to Jimmy that his mother’s last words were jimmys name, “no not Jimmy, never precious Jimmy!” from the chicanery monologue. Because of this, i find it hard to believe that Chuck would write this because it requires him to really drop his pride and like be okay with the relationship between Jimmy and their mother, with no lingering resentment

- why leave jimmy this genuinely very sweet and heartfelt letter, but also only leave him the bare minimum amount of money in the will? if Chuck truly believed in his brother and was proud of him, wouldn’t he have wanted to leave Jimmy money so that he could fund his law practice?

- in 4.02, Kim is indignant, yelling at Howard, calling the letter “one more screw you little brother from the grave”, “Am I really supposed to do this to him?”. so we know that Kim doesn’t trust that this letter will make Jimmy feel better, she thinks that it’s going to make things worse. But she won’t want to lie to jimmy (she doesn’t do that (yet)), so she writes her own. Writes what she thinks Jimmy would want to hear from Chuck.

- which leads into my next point. the letter is almost too perfect. chuck’s words hit on almost every point in his relationship with Jimmy, righting every wrong that has happened in the past. chuck values and appreciates jimmy’s relationship with his mother (no lingering resentment for the corner store scams), he says that he’s proud of Jimmy for the way he’s turned his life around, believes that they are always brothers and he always cares about him. Chuck says that he’s always been in jimmys corner. But of course we know that isn’t true. Chuck really hasn’t been in jimmys corner! he tries his hardest to keep Jimmy from becoming a lawyer and staying one! chuck never seems to think that jimmy can change, slippin jimmy with a law degree is a chimp with a machine gun, him? He’ll never change, he’s always been like this, I should have stopped him when I had the chance, you have to stop him. And of course Chuck could have been too proud and afraid of vulnerability when he was alive to be truly honest with Jimmy, which is why this letter exists. But I find that hard to believe. the letter seems too perfect. it seems like kim thinks of everything she thinks Jimmy would want to hear from chuck, she thinks this will save him. And of course it doesn’t

which brings me to my interpretation of Kim’s reaction: yes, she’s crying because she’s realizing that there’s something irrevocably broken within Jimmy, he will never be the same after chuck’s death. He’s reading this letter with the same tone that one would read the morning newspaper- it’s casual, it’s meaningless. So what that this is a letter from my dead brother?

but I also think Kim is crying because she wrote this letter, and she thought that it would be enough. That it would elicit some sort of grateful happy bittersweet cathartic response within Jimmy. but it doesn’t. It doesn’t work. She has no cards left to play. What else can she do for him now? Can she save him? she’s afraid that she can’t. he’s too far gone

obviously this is just my interpretation, but no matter how many times i revisit that scene, i will never be able to change my mind that the letter wasn’t actually written by chuck. and maybe someone has already thought this same thought and this is nothing new. awkward. so if you have let me know. bc i think about this alllll the time

[nerves-nebula]

Wow yeah you sound autistic to me. Like, all that missing there is ✨the hell that is sensory issues ✨ (but I think u mentioned that PRIOR?)

,,,, on that topic I'm truama dumping in ur inbox again cuz it's cathartic.

I will never forget when my mom started trying to get me diagnosed and I had to hear my dad yell and scream and throw tantrums like a literal toddler that "MY KID IS NOT A FUCKING RETARD!!!" Definitely did great things for my selfesteem/sarcastic <currently diagnosed autistic and ADHD and rumoured bpd based off medication interactions. And maybe DID but I'm ignoring this bitchs in my head <3

I DO HAVE A LOTTA SENSORY ISSUES HAHA. and emotional shutdowns! its always hard to tell which is a PTSD thing and which is a neurodivergence thing as far as me being jumpy/twitchy around loud noises goes, but i don't think PTSD makes the sound of brooms sweeping concrete make me wanna collapse into a ball.

if I leave my house without earbuds I'll fucking explode and die. the sounds there are BAD and I'll get BORED and antsy and twitchy without my own controlled noises.

I know i have hyperfixations cause I've had a few really BAD ones that ended up hurting me. Like, senior year of high school I was so obsessed with the joker and batman that I hurt my hands scrolling comics/tumblr for art about them for HOURS. and i could NOT STOP. and i was supposed to be making PAINTINGS for COLLEGE APPLICATIONS so my hands really shouldn't have been getting FUCKEd at that time.

im not sure if im in a hyperfixation about the turtles rn or like, a healthy interest. I think it's petered out to a healthy interest but i am almost constantly thinking about them hah. maybe ive just gotten better at controlling myself so i dont hurt myself while fixating tho.

AS for your trauma: THAT sUCKS ASS. me and my siblings have ruminated and joked about being autistic for years, but our parents would NEVER get us tested. My mom basically said my grades were too good so why would i need to get tested for adhd/autism. and my dad is Nigerian so good luck trying to talk to him about mental health stuff !!

i tried to bring up my obvious sensory and emotional issues to my mom and she was like "you're not autistic you're just sensitive" and left me standing there like "but.. being sensitive the ways i am are literally perfectly in line with autism.."

sidenote: i'm so much happier now that I let myself stim whenever i feel like it. i stim sooo much these days and it's FANTASTIC, I never knew how much I was hurting myself by not letting myself do it.

tell the bitches in ur head that ur ignoring i said hi :D !

[nine-fingered-entity]

as i head into the final case, the resolve of ryunosuke naruhodo: we are going into the fire. all will be revealed. the horrors unveiled. it's time. answers at any cost.

but first: brain vomit

i spent a lot of time theorizing on who the final defendant would be, only for it to just be the same trial. marginally disappointing but it's probably for the best. not sure if my heart could take more people dying

that being said: Herlock as a defendant (my top contender) would have been interesting. deeply.

the case title worries me. to be fair, everything about the setup here worries me. i suspect it will be unpleasant, if cathartic

i've been thinking this from practically the moment we met, but i strongly believe Stronghart will be the final baddie/final witness. it feels so obvious. almost too obvious. which is why i'm now second-guessing myself. i dont have a backup theory though. so.

i'm not sure i buy Gregson as the Reaper. it makes sense, but i have a nagging doubt. what about Gina? he told us that he was taking Gina to France to protect her. and that could be a lie, but. i don't know.

or actually. hang on. having a thought. He was the Reaper-or involved-and never felt doubt about his involvement until Gina. knows that the Reaper can't act outside of Britain (esp with Shinn dead) and so plans to flee with Gina. this gets him killed by the one in charge of the whole Reaper thing?

i honestly don't know. but there's more to it than what Zieks thinks. than what we all think.

Vigil is either lying to us or not all of his memories have returned. i swear he has Genshin's ring, from the Barok flashback. how would he have it?

on a similar note: the governor of the prison is not telling us everything.

i'm fairly convinced Genshin is not the Professor, at this point. Or at least that there's more going on there. He saved Barok. He wrote some weird papers (which are not the ones we were given, no way), he still doesn't really have a motive. The whole giant dog aspect of the case. The Baskervilles. There's more to this.

terrible thought i had: Dr. John H. Wilson. he was even a professor!

or Stronghart. again. i don't know.

i'm still waiting to see if Van Zieks and Stronghart are related. they have the same crest. it. worries me.

speaking of Van Zieks. god. the scene after the trial where he's his usual terrible self and then Ryunosuke is like "is that any way to talk to your lawyer" and then van Zieks apologized? so satisfying. you tell him, Ryunosuke.

i just like it when Ryunosuke gets a bit snippy. see: every time he called van Zieks his "learned friend" like go off. get him.

also i cannot believe Kazuma kept calling Ryunosuke his 'learned friend' during the trial what is Wrong With Him.

i miss my sword. obs it is good that Kazuma is alive and gets his sword back, but i miss the sword. its so fun.

at least Kazuma finally talked to Ryunosuke. like. way later that he could have but at least he did. thank you. i appreciate someone being honest with me. its so rare.

okay. Iris' dad possibilities time:

Mikotoba: unlikely. its possible, but it feels unlikely. gut instinct. i want to not be disappointed in him.

Dr. John H. Wilson: it could still be him, but i doubt it. he apparently didn't seem to have a family?

Herlock: plausible. unfort. will explode him with my mind if so. could not fathom a reason why he'd lie to Iris if so. although im sure one would exist

one of the nobles (Klint) killed by the Professor: spitballing. the og hound of the baskervilles had something to do with killing heirs. i don't know. concerned.

Gregson. highly unlikely but also. i don't know.

Mycroft: my crack theory. we dont even know if there Is a Mycroft.

i have more thoughts (incoherent yelling) but idk

if herlock does not have a good explanation for everything i will flip my lid. kazuma. iris wilson. the professor. the baskervilles. why was he even on the SS Burya? he has much to answer for.

[tenshindon]

Can’t explain it but the fact tien screams at tao to destroy his super dodon ray during their fight is very good for my soul

[gloomiebearwritings]

Hello, I was wondering if you do one for me? I was thinking of how Hanzo, Kuai Lang, Kabal and Erron Black reacts when their s/o explains why they do not drink because of their alcoholic parent (violent drunk) and is afraid they will be the same way. If so this would be cathartic for me having substance abuse on both sides of my family.

Hey there! Sorry, this took a bit, I wasn't sure how to tackle it- but I hope I handled it well! I don't know what possessed me to make Kabal and Erron's so long, but I couldn't help it 😭

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hanzo

He wasn’t much for drinking himself, not finding the feeling of his senses being altered to be tolerable

He’d seen those around him drink, seen their actions become sloppy or aggressive, and seen a fight or two because of it

For him it was something that’d disrupt his routines and peace, so he only ever tried a drink or two in the past but never drank again

One night at dinner you’d told him why you never drank, about the violent drunk of a parent you had growing up, and how you’d never drink even a sip in your life. He sat quiet for a moment as he listened before setting his things down to speak up; telling you he was sorry you had to experience all that you did, promising you that he never drank himself so there was nothing to fear with him. He respected your fear of being the same, and promised he knew you were not that kind of person- that you were the better, stronger person for taking the responsibility to never drink. Inside he felt some level of guilt for not stepping in sooner when others would begin to nag you to get you to drink- which he quietly apologized for.

Kuai Liang

He’d only ever tried a drink once, finding the taste insufferable and chose to never drink again- especially after seeing another get drunk once and almost get his lights punched out

Any time a gathering involved drinking he felt out of place as others would get tipsy, or when arguments would threaten to become fights

He found comfort in the fact that you never drank, though he never pressed as to why since he knew that was none of his business- your choice was your choice, regardless of why

After you two had left a get together that’d turned sour due to an argument between family members you decided to tell him. He was stunned at first, a bit ashamed that he didn’t step in sooner when the argument was getting out of hand, apologizing for not getting you out sooner. As you told him about the aggression and violence at the hand of the drunkard parent he sat quietly, looking up at you as you paced with a soft but sad expression. When you were done, he had you sit next to him where he said he understood what happened, that it hurt to hear someone he loved so dearly had to go through all of it.

Erron

He knew it all too well from his own upbringing, the fights, the yelling, the cheap shots at the walls

Though he’d drunk a bit in his late teens he came to stop when he realized he hated how it made him feel- since then having never drank again

He avoids all the gatherings he can that involve drinks, not wanting to be around others who might try nagging him into drinking with them

On one such night in, having avoided another outing he sat at his work bench, cleaning up his tools and sidearms. It didn’t bother him that tomorrow everyone would be nagging him for not going out despite them all having a hangover of some intensity. When you’d come over to leave him something to drink, he happened to pipe up how he finds the others’ drinking habits frustrating, especially when they’d poke his ribs for refusing- saying he was thankful you didn’t drink, wondering aloud why you chose not to. Speaking up you explained a bit of it, seeing his face drop to an expression of regretting mentioning it, worried he struck a nerve in you. He apologized profusely until you gave him a kiss to shut him up- though hours later he was still apologizing, saying he was now even more thankful his ass stopped drinking.

Kabal

He was used to seeing and being around people drinking, sometimes joining in but more often than not just ignoring it

Drinking never really appealed to him, finding most alcohol Kano would bring to be like drinking battery acid

He chose to often just leave and go somewhere else when the drinking picked up and bickering started, not wanting to have to be a referee

 Standing with his back to the wall, letting the hot water wash over him in the shower he heard you enter to leave him his towel that he’d forgotten; he apologized for forgetting it again with a tired groan. Without really thinking about it he wondered aloud if he smelled of alcohol when he came home even though he didn’t drink any, saying to himself that he was around a lot of people who were drunk. He was aware that alcohol was something you were uncomfortable with, hoping he didn’t make you uncomfortable by coming home and possibly reeking of it before he got cleaned up. When you spoke up to alert him you were still in there, he jumped a little, apologizing again- though he did finally ask why it was that you avoided drinking. As you told him he began to regret asking, feeling like he made you uncomfortable even without seeing your expression. After you finished, he sheepishly looked out from behind the curtain to apologize, saying he didn’t realize it could be such a sore topic for you; but said he appreciated that you didn’t drink, so you two could just ignore parties together.

[pineapple-lover-boy]

Can- can I just talk about the Victuuri relationship? Pretty please?

I just…. I’ve never seen a healthy relationship that starts from idolization and a need to get out that has ended in a satisfying way.

Let me elaborate:

We all know that Yuri idolized Victor. It’s why he was so nervous in the beginning and why it took time for them to build on their relationship, he saw Victor as a god.

Victor? He was depressed. He loved the ice so much but he longer found excitement in competitions. He didn’t have any worthy opponents that had a chance of beating him (sorry Chris).

I believe Victor “fell in love” at the banquet. He was attracted to Yuri but, even though he lost, he also saw potential in him. That night was probably the most exciting night for him in a long time. I think he felt genuine affection for Yuri but also saw a way to get out of his predicament.

Then, of course, Yuri didn’t show up the following season (a year had passed before the present timeline). He was most likely annoyed that someone who had gave him excitement didn’t show up. Did he think Yuri had a chance of beating him at first? Probably not. Did he see potential or at least someone he could have fun with during the season? Hell yes!

And then when he saw the video of Yuri skating Stay Close To Me, something that awarded him a gold medal. That’s all he needed. He saw how Yuri not only skated it perfectly but I bet he thought Yuri skated it better. Let’s not forget that emotion is a huge part of skating. If you don’t skate with the passion your supposed to hold for whatever theme you have, your performance can almost seem futile. Victor obviously won because he perfected it but if it was based on how he presented it alone, he would’ve lost. He saw someone worthy of skating an gold medal piece while also having the heart to do it. That’s talent.

Anyways, because of this, their relationship doesn’t hold well in the beginning. He’s passive aggressive towards Yuri because he doesn’t see his own talent and Yuri is just going along for the ride because holy shit it’s Victor fucking Nikiforov.

As they get to know each other and Yuri opens up more (plus Victor getting info on Yuri from the others) Victor starts to see Yuri as an actual person and not someone he can use to project himself onto and then later skate against. And Yuri starts to see him as an actual person too.

I saw on another post talking about how we didn’t see them during the summer and how the end credits of every episode suggest they got to know each other better as both in the credits and in the show they (Yuri) are able to touch each other more. I 100% believe this.

I also believe they might’ve had an argument or two on this topic. It’s not easy to switch from inadvertently seeing someone as anything but a person to an actual person with emotions and feelings. I believe Victor would’ve tried to back away from this subject but Yuri wouldn’t let him. It wasn’t big arguments like in episode 7. It was probably little quarrels that annoyed them both but after having a long conversation they finally started to become more comfortable with each other.

Yuri started letting go of the notion that Victor was a god like creature and Victor saw him as something other than a pawn. Yuri stopped getting as embarrassed with Victor touching him and Victor stopped trying to seduce him as much just so he could see the man from the banquet.

This most definitely leads the way towards a healthier relationship but episode 7 was inevitable. Yuri’s anxiety was at an all time high when he comes out on top. The fact that he needs to stay on top and not mess up is getting to him. As a person with anxiety, it’s pure hell. The thoughts of failing won’t get out of his head and even as he turns off all the monitors he can still hear everything.

Victor takes him away from prying eyes and has no idea what to do. Despite an obvious change that would’ve had to include some emotions from both occurring over the summer, he still has no idea how to help someone in distress.

Then he makes his first mistake. Yuri is visibly shaken by someone’s scores (can’t remember who) and Victor, who is at his wits end, yells at him to stop listening and puts his hands over Yuri’s ears. This tells Yuri how nervous Victor is too and despite knowing that Victor wouldn’t leave him now it shows to him that Victor doesn’t have faith in him (even if he does).

Victor tried to shatter Yuri’s heart. He must’ve expected Yuri to maybe sign heavily but tell him that he’ll do everything in his power to win (probably something that’s happened with him and Yakov). Instead he see’s the consequences of his carelessness. Yuri rightfully lashes out at him and even through all that Victor stills says “should I kiss you?”. Idk what Yuri was thinking but if I were him I would be extremely offended that Victor would try and use me like some doll he can play with and can assume that physical affection and love can fix everything, which was probably what Yuri was thinking.

There’s something off about Yuri and Victor when they emerge but Yuri is surprisingly better now. Cathartic crying can do wonders, kids. There’s also my favorite part of the entire show (couldn’t find a gif):

*head jab* “Hey, fuck you.”

*more head jabs* “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. I know you don’t like this you unempathetic dicknip.”

*head pat* “You’re forgiven.”

We all know what happens next: Yuri ends his love story with Victor’s signature move and Victor kisses him out of joy and the need to one up him (with love, of course).

I’m gonna get a little sloppy here with the timeline because I have the memory of a female protagonist that needs to go back to work to get something only to accidentally bump into the jerk CEO of which she will develop a toxic relationship for fan service, so forgive me.

Gonna skip ahead to the scene where Yuri tells Victor that he’s leaving skating, and basically Victor too. (At this moment I realized I’ve been spelling Viktor with a c and not a k which is really fucking with my brain but it’s too late to go back). Victor starts crying and realizes just how Yuri felt when he was rejecting him.

I believe Yuri found some light in the situation because of that fact, which Victor was not having. They’ve been closer than ever now. They’ve kissed, they’ve also announced they they’re getting married, so what the hell?!

Yuri, as we know, feels he’s keeping Victor from the ice. Victor, while he misses the ice and wouldn’t mind being competitive again, has found meaning and if he’s going to be Yuri’s coach to stay where he is than so be it.

He wanted to coach Yuri because he wanted a worthy competitor and while he still wants that, what matters most now is his relationship with Yuri. If he stops being Yuri’s coach and Yuri goes off the ice he knows it will be the end. Yuri loves the ice too and I’d bet he’d try to distance himself from Victor as to not feel regret from leaving without actually knowing that he’s doing it.

They’ve grown so much at this point. But that doesn’t mean it’s over. After all they’ve been through Yuri doesn’t realize that consequences of parting from one another. While being too dependent on your spouse isn’t good, it’s what they both need right now. They are what caused the other person to be happy again and while I hate those types of storylines this one executed it perfectly.

I find Victor’s silent plea to Yurio absolutely heartbreaking. He knows it’s bad to put pressure on people but now he’s doing that to a 15 year old boy. He’s putting his relationship and his life into this child’s hands because he knows there’s nothing else he can do.

I do think Yurio had a crush on Yuri but even if he didn’t: Yuri has taught him so much. He, although being an ass most of the time, has really come to love Yuri as family. It’s clear that Yurio was always lonely (Otabek being his first friend and all) but once he came to Japan and lived, truly lived there, he wasn’t lonely anymore.

Yurio wins, Yuri gets silver and all’s well that ends well.

I guess my point of this was to show how well the relationship in YOI was. I could’ve included some more detail on some points but I usually write stuff in one take (it’s very hard to revise without my mind shutting on itself).

I just love how an implicitly toxic relationship can come out so healthy. They don’t do any of that miscommunication bullshit and when they do it’s because the characters don’t know what to do or how to handle something. Like humans do!

They could’ve easily made this the hot famous guy thinks the kawai girl boy is just so adorable and the kawai girl boy is absolutely infatuated with the hot guy. Hijinks ensue which includes the kawai girl boy thinking the hot guy is in love with someone else. She He gets pushed into thinking that she’s he’s more independent in the end and happily ever after for the couple that will divorce in less than five years! Yay!

Seriously, I thought that was what was going to happen but YOI subverted my expectations so much. They are people that grew from their bad mindsets. And you know what? Yuri still has anxiety! Victor is still bad with handling emotions! And that’s ok! We don’t change that quickly. It takes time and hopefully another season.

I’m definitely using this show as a template for healthy relationships. It’s so hard for me to properly write them when I’ve never been in one and I’m not given the chance to see it happen in different environments (when searching it up all I get is “they trust each other. They blame each other. They’re compassionate.” Like ok but can you show me how?)

Yuri!!! On ice…. I love you so much. You have done so much for my mental health and my writing. Thank you.

[ddaengyoonmin]

Pairing: Single dad / childhood best friend!Jungkook x Reader

Genre: !!ANGST!!, smut.

Word count: 7.1k

Warnings:(issa dark oneee)  Mentions of abuse, abusive parent, underage drinking and drug use, Jungkook is an ass, lots of descriptions of smoke and cigarettes in an unhealthy way. Mentions of vomiting.  Toxic behaviors in general; Rough play; handjob; edging; Sub!Jungkook; Dom!Reader; choking; biting; overstimulation; slight mentions of blood; just all around physical and emotional pain definitely not #goals.

a/n: definitely cried a bit writing this.  This story ended up becoming super important to me and something I think I’ve been holding in for a while.  A lot of this story is based on my own life and personal experiences, which is why the first part is a highschool backstory.  Absolutely nothing sexual happens until they are both adults, the first part of the story was just a necessary cathartic therapy moment for me to get out :_)

(Also I tried to make this a gender neutral insert, but this is my first time doing that so kindly let me know if there's anything I can do to improve on that!)

Song inspiration: Kathleen- Catfish and the Bottlemen; Rango- Catfish and the Bottlemen; Anything-Catfish and the Bottlemen

--------

He was completely insane. It never made you like him any less though.

When you’d first heard Jungkook was back in town you had so many different emotions running through you, you thought you’d faint at the feeling.

------

When you were still in highschool, he had been your closest friend.  You spent practically every day after school with Jungkook, smoking in your car, driving around through cemeteries laughing about something funny one of your teachers had said, or the security guard who’d tried to chase you down the halls for skipping 2nd hour earlier in the day.  There never seemed to be a dull moment when he was around.

 When you’d first met him, insane and reckless were never words that would’ve come into your mind.

He was a grade younger than you and had seemed to fly mostly under your radar through all your highschool years.  It wasn’t until the second half of your Junior year that you'd even noticed he existed.

You’d shown up to the first day of track practice the way you always had, scanning over the new freshman on the team.  You’d mistaken him for a freshman and greeted him as such.  He nervously and shyly corrected you that he was actually a Sophomore just searching around for something new to try out.  

About half way through the practice you noticed a group of your teammates had swarmed around Jungkook and he looked to be almost in tears as he cowered under their words and faces, looking up at them all.

He was a small child, not very muscular and extremely geeky looking.  You found it endearing though, and found the classmates picking on him infuriating.

You stormed across the track over to where they stood demanding to know their problem, they all were also a grade younger than you and seemed to be intimidated by you.  How could they not be with the star of the track team chewing them out like they were being condemned to hell.

After they left, two big saucer eyes stared up at you, tears still slightly pooled up in his lower lid, he wiped them off with the back of his hand.

“Thank you.” He sniffled. He explained that everyone in his grade always picked on him like that.  He didn’t really have any friends, and everyone seemed to think of him as the weird kid.

After that day the two of you were inseparable.  

You went to the city fair together on the last day of school that year, and that was the first time it happened.

You were supposed to be at a school sanctioned celebration, you’d told your mom that's where you’d be.

But here you were sitting in your car with Jungkook before going to the fair, the two of you giggling as he messily tried to roll a joint, swearing that his older brother had taught him how.

You felt yourself bleeding guilt for lying to your parents.  But, how could anything that sweet Jungkook convinced you to do be bad?

Stoned out of your mind the two of you ran hand in hand around the fair, giggling and riding your favorite rides too many times.  That was the first time you realized, he was truly your best friend.

That summer had you pulling a 180 on everything you’d ever thought you were capable of.

Before you knew it, you were sneaking out of your house multiple times a week to drive around with Jungkook and smoke, listening to music and feeling free.

———

It was now the middle of summer.  You were sitting in your car while Jungkook was filling up gas for you.  

Two girls and a man approached Jungkook and started chatting.  You found that odd, but then again, Jungkook had a habit of getting into conversations with strangers everywhere you went.

You never really noticed it til then, but at some point, he had really changed from the boy you met.  He was more outgoing, he was dressing better…

A tap on your window surprised you.

“Hey y/n! These guys are throwing a party at their place, let's just park your car here and go! They said just hop in!”

You felt your jaw drop a bit as you opened your mouth to protest.  But he was staring back at you so excited, so hopeful that you’ll join him.  You agreed, against all better judgement and that sick feeling in your stomach that you shouldn’t be getting into a car with strangers.

Jungkook whispered in your ear as the two of you walked to your car. “I told them we were 22” He chuckled.  Your heart dropped a bit, more sick feelings coming on.  

“Okay.” You managed to nod and agree somehow.  Jungkook excitedly opened the door to their backseat, as if he did this kind of thing all the time.

You were both lucky, the strangers were not murderers, though there was no party, just them and some beer and a hookah in a messy apartment living room.

None of it felt right, it didn’t really feel like a fun time.  Jungkook though seemed to think he was at the party of the century.  He chugged the beer they gave him in no time and was up messing with their stereo trying to get on some “PARTY MUSIC” he screamed out.

In no time at all that firecracker of a boy was wasted and trying to dance up on their table.

It wasn’t long before the apartment owners realized their mistake, this child was completely off the rails drunk.  One of them tried to bring him down from the table and he somehow managed to kick their glass hookah entirely across the room.

There was a still silence as you all looked at the shattered glass on the ground.  You had your hand clasped over your mouth looking from the glass to Jungkook.

Jungkook’s eyes were wide at you, the smile that grew on his face seemed ill fitting for the moment, as the apartment owners were obviously furious.

“Run!” Jungkook screamed out in a laugh, rushing over to you and grabbing you tightly by your wrist and pulling you out the front door.

Then the two of you ran, you just kept running down the street till your lungs gave out and you collapsed on the ground on a grassy patch in front of a gas station.

Jungkook’s chest was heaving but he still managed a loud laugh, his eyes crinkling as he held his stomach, rolling over onto his side.

“Jungkook.  That was insane…” You gasped out.

“That was fun.” he chuckled, seeming to be unphased by it all with a casual smile, rolling back onto his back and staring up at the sky.

And that was the moment you realized how crazy he was.

After that, things like this were common with Jungkook.  You were his protector at school and his partner in mischief and crime.

The two of you ended up both quitting track together, against your parent’s scolding and the coaches yelling about losing one of their star runners.  

You knew you wouldn’t be a star that year though, with all the smoking you’d been doing and you’d skipped out completely on practicing throughout the summer.  It just seemed pointless.  And you wanted more time with Jungkook before you had to leave…

———

You found yourself getting in increasingly more dangerous situations.  He’d have you take him to parties at nearby university dorms, he refused to learn to drive, part of you felt like it was just because he liked you driving him around.  

He always lied about his age, that never sat right with you.

Sometimes you found yourself gripping both hands on a beer bottle so tightly you thought your fingers might snap while he was getting talked to by every person that walked by. People loved him at first glance every time you went out together. But they didn’t know him.  

They didn’t get to see his real chaos, they never learned the lies he told them, they’d never be able to understand him.  Not like you thought you knew him.

You knew things weren’t good at home for Jungkook.  He had an older brother he was close with named Jin, and a young sister named Jill, both very lovely, but his dad was a real piece of work.  In the whole time you’d been friends with Jungkook you’d only been to his house twice, he avoided ever taking you there if he could.

You found out why when one of the times Jungkook had thought it’d be safe to bring you over for a moment, his dad got home from work early.

“What’s this shit.” His dad had grumbled at Jungkook, pointing to the light eyeliner he had around his eyes.  Jungkook had recently started to wear makeup, he did a good job of making it look natural, but today he’d gone a little heavy on the eyeliner.

“Nothing.” Jungkook muttered, turning his back to his dad.

Apparently that was the wrong move, and all you could do was stand there, frozen.

Jungkook and you have never talked about that day.  But it was traumatic for you both.  You held him close that night as he cried in your arms, sitting in the parking lot of your favorite park to smoke in.

His eye now even more black than it had been with just the eyeliner, which was now smudged across his face due to his tears.

You vowed to never let anyone hurt him ever again.  No matter what.

---------

Months later Jungkook was taking pictures of you, for your senior pictures.  Talking about how you’d be gone next year but you’d still stay in touch.  Graduation was hanging over you like a dark cloud.  You didn’t want things to change between you and Jungkook.

As much trouble as you’d gotten in, as much as your grades had dropped this year, as much as your parents gave him judgemental looks any time he was around, you loved him so much.

---------

It was the last month of school.

He was gone.

Somehow his father had managed to get your phone number and you were hearing an entire vocabulary of cuss words.

“I know you’re hiding him from me.  Where the fuck is he?’ the man growled on the other end of the phone.

You wish you knew.

But he just didn’t show up to school that day.

He didn’t text you like he always did to say that he was ready to be picked up.

No voicemail.

Not a word.

And now even his dad was calling you.  The worry that you felt had you not paying attention to one word of your classes all day.

And the next day.

And the next day.

And the rest of the week.

Until next monday.  He was just...there.

“What the fuck Jungkook!” You punched him in the shoulder.  He looked like a mess, his hair hadn’t been cut or washed in a while, and he looked like he was wearing the remnants of makeup from a few days ago.

He chuckled “I decided to just hop a train out of town for a while” He shrugged “fuck it.”

“And you couldn’t tell your best friend where you went? Do you realize I thought you were dead?” You snapped at him.

He shrugged again. “It's fine.  It was fun!” He smiled a giant toothy grin.

Your blood was boiling.  How could he not even say sorry? How could he act like this didn’t affect you at all.  It was infuriating.

You didn’t talk to him for a week.

------

You made up with Jungkook, but things never went back to normal.  You were always waiting for him to just up and leave again.  To just abandon you and act like nothing is even the matter…

You’d graduated and it was summer, you thought like last summer you’d be hanging out together most every day.

But, he stopped asking.

When you did hang out with him, he’d continuously mention this new group of friends he’d found in the town he ended up in on his little adventure.  You’d think they were celebrities the way he gushed about them.

There was a girl of course, she was ‘the most beautiful mess he’d ever seen’.  You found yourself holding back a sob at those words, because you knew exactly what he meant.  Because it was the same as what you saw when you looked at him.

He was increasingly spending more time with his new friends than you, and school would be starting for you soon...maybe it was a good thing.  He was still in highschool and you were becoming an adult, he needed friends in his grade.

That didn’t make it hurt less though.

Only about a month into summer, with a simple text Jungkook invited himself over, asking you to order some pizza and said he’d be staying the night.

In your new apartment you’d gotten to yourself after graduation, Jungkook now smoking with you on your couch, the two of you chuckling about the show you were watching.  Nothing seemed wrong at that moment, it all seemed finally back to normal between you two.

And that was the last time you had seen Jungkook for 4 years.

------------

You’d checked your phone what seemed like every minute for the first month he was gone.

Even texting his brother Jin many times and getting no reply.

You waited for him to come back with some wild and crazy story of new trouble he’d gotten himself into.  You figured he had to come back, he still had school, and with Jin in college he’d never leave his little sister alone with that monster right?

But as months continued to pass, it was clear he wasn’t coming back.  All of his social media platforms had been deleted or you’d been blocked.

There weren’t enough tears in your body for how hard you cried yourself to sleep each night when you realized he really was gone.  You felt your body heaving against your mattress with each loud sob.  Your head was beginning to throb from the tears and from the stress of knowing you really had lost him.

Not that he was ever yours.

That was something you should’ve realized sooner.

Jungkook would never belong to anyone or any place.

 You chuckled at a memory of skipping class, sitting in your car in the school parking lot, his wild eyed smiling expression when he’d pass you back your cigarette completely smoked to the end.

“How!?” You’d smack his shoulder with a laugh. “It was only half smoked and I handed it to you for a hit!!! How is it gone!”

He’d wink, laugh and lean back in his seat.  “Just trying to die quicker.”

------------

You’d graduated from your university this year.  Life had pretty much gone according to plan for you that way, you had to retake one class which really wasn’t bad considering how much you’d fallen off at the end of highschool.

You were finishing up your shift at the chain restaurant you’d been working at the past year.  As you were clearing off dishes sighing over another table stiffing you on a tip, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket.

Quickly you took the dishes into the kitchen to the dishwasher and went to the bathroom to check your phone.

It was a text from a former classmate you’d hung out with a few times.  You and Jungkook would smoke with him occasionally, though Jungkook seemed closer to him than you.  It didn’t surprise you, Jungkook made friends so easily when they weren’t in his own grade.  

Jungkook…

What was surprising was that it’d actually been a bit since you’d thought about Jungkook in a way that made your heart ache this way.  It’d been years, he was nothing more than a story you’d tell to new friends.  That wild child that you hung around with in highschool, the one who got you into so much trouble.  People’s eyes would widen at some of the stories you’d told (If only they knew the ones you didn’t dare repeat)

“You could’ve died!” They’d say.  

Or “He seems like he was just a toxic friend.”

Some even would ask you if you think maybe he could’ve been a sociopath.

You'd laugh and say it was probably true.  As much as you had hung out with Jungkook, you never quite felt like that love you held for him as your friend was ever returned.

The older you got and the more you looked back on it, Jungkook never did anything but use you.  

You drove him everywhere, you bought him dinners, you bought the cigarettes and weed, you defended him from his classmates( even though you’d seen him stab a man with a pen at a party once, over simply interrupting him.)

And what did Jungkook give to you?

Chaos.  Trouble.  Pain.  Hurt…

You closed your eyes and gulped.  You want him out of your head.  But when you open your eyes and stare back down to the text on your phone, that wish is impossible.

‘Jungkook is back’ It read.

A chill spread across your entire body and your phone clattered to the floor.  You didn’t even think about the cracked screen you’d likely caused.  Your mind was stuck on one word, one name.

Jungkook.

Jungkook…

You actually felt sick, luckily you were already in the bathroom, rushing into one of the stalls you emptied your stomach, tears forming in your eyes you collapsed with your back to the cold painted cement of the bathroom wall.

He's back.

What does that even mean?

While Jungkook had been a geeky little kid in his classmates eyes for most of his life, his reputation had started to get around.  When he went missing he was the talk of the town.  Everyone seemed to have their own theory.

“I heard he ran off with a meth dealer.” … “No, I heard he’s in florida fighting alligators.” …. “That's bullshit he's obviously finally gotten himself in juvi!” they’d all speculated.

The worst part of hearing all of that, was that you could only speculate too.

He’s back…

A second text came in.  You gulped and looked down to see a link to an instagram page kookymonster69.  Of course it was that, you chuckled.

You clicked the link and it sent you over to his page.  There were only three pictures posted, he really had just come back...you’d thought maybe he’d just blocked you so somehow this was a relief.

The first photo was a selfie, and WOW.  He did not look like the small lanky boy that you had been friends with.

He was wearing a loose fitting tank top that showed off his massive biceps and the tattoos that covered his arms and hands.  His hair was still jet black but he seemed to have learned how to perfectly style it, and his eyeliner was more on point than it's ever been.

“Fuck.” You whispered under your breath. Your heart beat fast right before it sank at the second picture.

It was him with a child that looked to be around 3 years old, the caption reading ‘My lil mini me’.

Oh…

Your mind flashed back to the girl he’d always talked about, the time he’d been spending with his new friends instead of you.

Of course.

Of course that's where he went.

But why couldn’t he tell you?  Why would he think you wouldn’t want to be involved in his kids life?

You cursed again under your breath and without thinking you pressed the follow button.

“I-” You gasped.  You really hadn’t meant to do that.  But, maybe it's good he knows that you know he's back…

--------

Two days later you got a notification.  Kookymonster69 is following you on instagram.

Within minutes a dm was popping up on your screen.

“Long time no talk huh?” it read.

You wanted to throw your phone against the wall.  Though that would be the second act of unwarranted phone violence because of this little shit. So you held back.  Theres only so much in your life he’s allowed to fuck up.

How could he think that was what you wanted to hear after all this time.  No different than when he’d hopped a train out of town and came back like nothing was out of the ordinary.

No apology.  No “You must’ve been so worried”

You started to type out a message telling him off.  Asking him what the fuck was wrong with him, just dissapearing and coming back into your life like this.

You maxed out the word count on your text and re read it back over.  Sighing, you deleted every word and sent a simple.  

“Yeah...it really has been a while.  How are you?”

Damnit.  You groaned and tossed yourself onto your side on your couch.  

He replied almost instantly.  

“Better lately...I have a son.”

“I saw, he looks a lot like you.  I always knew if you had a kid they’d look just like you lol called it” you felt a smile grow on your face, despite every bone in your body reminding you of who he was, and what he’s done...here you were letting your cheeks catch fire once again at his words.

“He does. lol he’s so much smarter than me though already.”

“I don’t doubt that ;) “

It was about ten minutes and he hadn’t replied.  You knew ten minutes wasn’t a long time, nothing compared to four years.  Yet somehow those ten minutes were the longest moments you’d ever experienced.

“I wanna see you again.” the words read on your phone.  You felt your stomach tie itself up into a tight knot.  

Bad idea.  Bad idea.  You should have never even replied.

Why were you digging up the past?

You quickly turned your phone over and groaned.

Letting him back in would likely only bring you more pain.  Why the hell were you actually considering it.

This time it was your turn to wait a while before replying.  You were weighing pro’s and con’s lists in your brain and though the con’s list kept growing, the Pro list’s first and only item seemed to top it all.  ‘Its Jungkook.’

---------

So here you were.  Waiting in your car outside of the address he’d texted you to pick him up at.  You were parked outside of a cheap looking apartment building only about five minutes from where you lived.  You wondered how long he’d been here...this close to you without you knowing.  

You sucked in a deep breath when you saw him walk out the front door.   He was wearing an oversized grey baggy t-shirt and tight black skinny jeans ripped at the knee where you could see the start of a tattoo peeking out.  He had on silver chains and his hands were covered in rings, he looked like some kind of goth model.

You rolled the window down and called over to him.

“Not sure if you remember my car.” You spoke lightheartedly trying to offset the nervous feeling, and another feeling you were still trying to sort out.

He belly laughed and smoothly opened your passenger door and hopped in.

“How could I forget!” his dark eyes were wide and excited as always, his charming smile you’d once been so used to now making your brain practically glitch out. “I can’t believe you still have it.”

You shyly shook your head.  “Broke college student” You chuckled. “So what are we doing? You said you just wanted to chill…”

Jungkook smiled and relaxed back into your seat, like he’d done a million times, so naturally.  Though he didn’t look like the same small boy you once knew.

“Yeah, like old times.” He winked and pulled out a small baggie of weed.

You rolled your eyes and smiled.

“C’mon don’t tell me you quit.” He teased.

“Of course I didn’t.” You chuckled.

“Good y/n.” He smiled cutely, booping your nose with one finger, and you felt your heart stop.

Your face must’ve fallen or had some sort of expression to let him know he’d affected you, because he immediately punched your shoulder as if to snap you out of your thought.

“Give me a cigarette then and let's go.” He demanded joyfully, banging on the dash of your car and giving you an “onward” motion with his arm for you to start driving.

You drove around for about an hour, smoking cigarettes and passing a joint back and forth.

He didn’t talk much about himself or what he’d been up to and he also didn’t ask much about you either.  When you’d bring up questions you got short replies that didn’t seem very satisfying.

“So are you still with your kids mom?” You asked him as he was passing you an almost fully smoked joint.

“Hell no!” he coughed out smoke with his words.  “Evil.” he muttered and shook his head.

“Evil?”

“Yup.” he nodded, grabbing another cigarette from your pack without asking.  Just as he always used to.  What's yours was always his back then, but right now his casual way of falling back into old routines was hurting, you couldn’t stand it anymore.

You pulled into the parking lot of you and Jungkook’s favorite park you’d hangout at.  You pressed the brakes suddenly and aggressively bringing the car to a half.

“Woaah.” Jungkook giggled as he let out a tiny puff of smoke.

“You left.” You felt yourself about to explode.  Trying to hold it in was becoming impossible.

“You just LEFT.” You yelled the last word, startling him and making him cower back against the window.

“Y/n…” His eyes widened as he gave you his best puppy dog face, this was the first time you’d probably ever really yelled at him.  He’d been scolded plenty of times, but you were always soft on your Jungkook.  He didn’t deserve that though, you might not have been dating, but he’d broken your heart and you deserved an explanation.

“Why didn’t you tell me?  How could you just leave me without a word?” You felt tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

It was silent in your car for a while.

Jungkook brought the last hit of his cigarette to his mouth shakily.

“No.” He shook his head, doing something that always gave you the chills. The way he could turn his cutesy eyes into stone cold daggers in an instant used to make your heart drop into your stomach.  Though right now you were a bit too worked up to feel anything but anger at him.

“No?”

“Yeah.  No.  I don’t need to tell you shit.” He shook his head, his eyes not meeting yours.

“Right.” You huffed, sinking into your seat.  “Why would you.  Why would you tell your best friend what's going on in your life right?” you snapped and realized the words building inside had reached your tongue faster than your brain could tell you to stop.

“Though I guess maybe we never really were best friends? Maybe I just thought that because you hung around me so much.  But you never actually gave a shit about me did you?”

Jungkook’s eyes were widening and he was cowering further away from you.

“I would’ve done anything for you Jungkook, you know that? Died for you, killed for you.  Do you realize how many times I took the fall and got in trouble for things you did? And you just…let me.  You always just let me get hurt for you, let me ruin myself for you. And you never cared. And then you just...left.”

Your last words came out as a choked up whisper.

Jungkook was staring at the cigarette in his hand that had gone out, twirling it between his tattoo’d fingers and pursing his lips together tightly.

“Why’d you keep hanging around me then if you hated it so much.” He grumbled, seeming genuinely hurt by your words.

You sighed.  Hating that now you felt the need to comfort *him*. You shook your head.  No. He doesnt get to get away with that.

“I guess I don’t know.” You muttered glaring at him.

His eyes met yours for a moment but on seeing your anger they quickly flitted away.

“You seemed helpless.” You answered after a moment. “That's why.  I thought you needed me.  I thought I was helping you by being there for you.  I didn’t realize you were destroying me.”

At that Jungkook’s gaze was serious and direct at you.

“Destroying you?”

“Nevermind.  This was just a mistake.” You murmured starting to put your car into reverse to leave.  A large tattoo’d hand pressed onto yours stopping you.

“Hey.” He spoke seriously.

You stopped and looked over at him, already visibly exhausted from this conversation.

“Just…” He grabbed another cigarette from your pack and lit it, sucking in a large hit.  “I missed you, trust me.” he grumbled.

“Oh wow, well at least you missed me the four years you chose to not talk to me.” You hissed out slightly getting in his face, making him flinch back.

“I’m not gonna say sorry.” He whispered, his doe eyes staring at you intensely, his eyes flicking back and forth between your eyes and what seemed to be your lips.

Of course he’s not.  Of course he does know that's what you want.  You had an urge to grab his face in your hands and just shake some sense into him and scream ‘Why can’t you just have some normal human emotions you complete sociopath.’

Instead your body’s next choice of action was one that neither of you were expecting.

As if your lips were magnets, yours fell onto his quickly and perfectly, snapping the two of you in place together.  

You pulled back with a gasp, holding your lower lip between your thumb and index finger, feeling mortified at yourself.

Jungkook on the other hand had a smirk slowly growing on his face, his eyes mischievous, likely knowing this was his “in” back to your good side.  

The fact that you knew that's probably what he was thinking should’ve been enough to have you stop right there.  But the way his eyes were now scanning you up and down in admiration was too intoxicating, too addicting, you’d missed him too much.

“Do your seats still fold all the way down.” He pointed to your backseat with a chuckle.

You smacked his shoulder. “And why would that matter to you.” You teased, almost completely forgetting how angry you’d just been with him.  Damnit, how did he do that.

He shrugged with a knowing laugh, his eyes crinkling up cutely, bringing his still lit cigarette to his lips.  

“You wanna get even?” He glanced at the back seat again.

“Get even?”

“Yeah.” He winked “You seem like you’ve got a lot of pent up steam at me there.  I'm just suggesting some sanctioned punishment-” the corners of his lips curled up mischievously at the word. ”-so maybe you’ll feel a bit less upset at me.”

Bad idea.  Bad idea.  Those words were playing on a loop in your brain.

Trying to remind you of every bit of hurt and pain he’d caused you, and how if you slept with him, you knew that pain would only hurt worse the next time.

Jungkook was already getting out of the car and putting the seats of your station wagon down flat into a makeshift bed.

You had your fingers clenched tightly around your steering wheel, knuckles turning white.  This is Jungkook, not just a one night stand, not a new fling.  This is *Jungkook*.  You knew there was a higher chance than not that you’d be filled with regret after this.

But there he was now laying out in the back seat of your car, staring at you with a cute and enticing look.  “y/n.” He spoke sweetly.  “You can come punish me now” He winked.

You couldn’t deny to yourself how much you wanted him.

You took one more deep breath in and without taking another thought to it you rushed into the back seat with him.

He was laying on his side with his head propped up on his hand.

“Took you long enough.” he teased.

Before he could say anything else you were on top of him, pushing him onto his back and pressing him to the seat with one hand and putting another one over his mouth.

“You’re definitely going to have to shut up.” You growled.  

His eyes lit up at the fire you’d shown him.  He’d never seen you like this before, his sweet y/n that always looked after him, looked out for him, picked him up every time he needed it.

He knew he fucked up.  But life itself was fucked up, nothing in life is fair and no one gets what they truly deserve.  Jungkook especially.  So why would he owe anyone an apology?

This was the best he could give to you.

He nodded, agreeing to be quiet for you.

You slowly let your hand fall from his mouth and replaced it with your lips, melting into him, you were kissing him like you’d been starved for it.  Your fingers started to tangle in his hair, messing it up and tugging slightly.  

Jungkook's hand reached around your waist, pulling you against him, moving down to your hips and trying to get you to grind against him.

You quickly reached down and grabbed his wrist, pinning it above his head and shaking your head slightly as you gave him a few more pecks.

“Don’t get greedy.  You can’t be patient after all this time?” You scolded.

He stuck out his lower lip in a pout, taking in the sight of you straddling him, looking down at him with a mix of emotions still flowing through you.  

You went back to kissing him, pinning his other hand above his head and after a bit, rewarding him by pressing your core down onto his and giving him the friction he’d wanted.

He let out a soft and needy whimper as you did.

You felt butterflies filling your stomach at his noise.  It was so gentle and sweet, and to know that you were the one making Jungkook feel this way was a sense of pride you’d never felt before.

You stacked his wrists one on top of the other and held them in one hand, your other hand now slipping between where your bodies met and palming him over his jeans.

He hissed out a sharp breath and a small “fuck” fell from his lips involuntarily.

“Does that feel good baby?” You teased him pulling back from your kisses and studying his face, knowing the answer was obvious.

He bit down on his lower lip and his eyes were clenched tightly as he nodded.

Your fingers fumbled slightly but didn’t take you too long to undo his jeans and slip your hand inside, now running your hand slowly along his length over his boxers.  His hips lifted slightly off of the seat, pressing up against your hand desperately wanting more.

At that you gave him a slight squeeze, causing him to yelp out.  His eyes were wide staring up at you.

“I said don’t get greedy.  Remember, this is supposed to be for me.” You chuckled at his disappointed face. “You’ve always been so fucking selfish and greedy.” You gently kissed his lips, before roughly taking his lower one between your teeth and biting harshly.

“Fuck.” he hissed, a small drop of blood now forming where you’d nipped at him, but he only seemed more hungry for you now.

You tugged on the hem of his pants and boxers. “Off now.” You demanded.

He wasted no time after you released his wrists, he tugged down his clothes, pulling up his shirt slightly and letting his length fall against his toned lower abs.

He was so beautiful, smiling up at you with a playful look.  It was an absolute joke for you to think you were actually in charge here.  You were wrapped around his finger and you always had been.

He looked absolutely mouthwatering.  But you didn’t want to let it get to his head.  This was supposed to be payback.

You went back to kissing him, that way you didn’t have to look at him, that way you didn’t risk saying the words that you shouldn’t...

With a free hand you took his length into your hand, letting the weight of him sit in your palm for a moment before slowly tickling your fingers up and down.  He twitched under your touch and his kisses faltered as he let out a small gasp.

“y/n no more teasing.” He moaned out.

“I thought I said shut up.” Your hand was back over his mouth, but you decided to indulge him for a moment, pumping your hand up and down his length a few times.  You could feel his moans vibrate against the palm of your hand still clamped down on his lips.

You let him go and slowly moved yourself down so that his cock was positioned right in front of your face.  Letting your tongue lay flat against the base with pressure you licked a long stripe up his cock.  When you got to the tip you flicked your tongue a few times right under his head.  His hips reflexively moved up at that, begging you to take him fully in your mouth.

Instead you “tsk’d” at him a few times, loosely holding his cock in your hand and not moving.

“It's no fun just sitting there waiting is it?” You asked. “How do you think I felt waiting for you for years.” You lightly slapped the tip of his cock with your hand not holding it.

“AH!” He yelled out “Hey!” he strained his neck to be able to give you a shocked expression.

“Too far?” You cocked an eyebrow at him.

He thought for a moment, then shook his head, laying back down.  “No.  No it's not that I don’t like it.” He chuckled. “Just...it's you.  I never thought you’d be like this in bed.”

You were suddenly moving up to face him, your hand grabbing the sides of his neck tightly. “You don’t know me anymore.” You growled.  “You made sure of that by cutting me out of your life for four fucking years.” your grip on his neck tightened slightly before you released him.  

He gasped in a deep breath when you pulled away, looking up at you in awe.  

You moved your hand back between his legs now pumping quickly, twisting over his head when you’d get to it.  You ate up every moan that you pulled from his lips, they were yours, you’d caused every single one and they were yours to keep forever.

Right before it looked like he was going to cum, you pulled your hand away, leaving his cock untouched and throbbing.

“No..” He whimpered, “Please please.” His needy whines were so cute.

“But why should you get to cum?” You teased him.

He pouted dramatically. “Y/n…” He spoke sweetly “Cuz you love me. Make me cum because you love me.” He smiled a wide and precious smile.

Fuck.

Your mouth hung open at his words.  Of course he knew you loved him.

All the easier to use you.

Because that made it all the harder for you to say no to him.

Letting your forehead rest against his, you brought your hand back to his length, letting your fingers drag against his soft skin as you gripped him.  

You could see a small smirk on his face, as his breathing became even more unsteady, his moans catching in his throat as he panted heavily.

“Oh my god that feels so fucking good.” He groaned out. “Fuck.” His hands were gripping the back of the front seat that his head was pressed up against, his muscles flexing as he tightened his grip unable to contain how good you were making him feel.  

His abs were clenched and his hips were lifting off of the seat for you as he desperately fucked himself into your hand.

“I-I’m cumming.” He gasped out, his eyes met yours as he came, his mouth falling completely open and noises resembling your name were being muttered as his hips jerked and his cock twitched in your hand, spurting ropes of cum onto his stomach.

You didn’t stop moving your hand around him, waiting for him to get so sensitive that he had to pull your arm away, both of you laughing.

You rolled over next to him, turning your head to face his.  

He was facing the top of the car, eyes closed and he had a big smile on his face, seeming very satisfied with himself.

“Even?” He finally opened his eyes, turning to you with a bright grin.

You chuckled.

It probably would be asking too much to expect Jungkook to see the flaw in his logic here.  Once again, he’d gotten you to give him everything, for nothing in return, and he wanted to call that his apology.

You shook your head at him.

“No.  But I do feel a little better.”

He nodded, seeming to somehow take that as a positive.

“You’re good at that.” He sat up, taking his shirt off and using it to wipe off his stomach.

“Thanks…” You muttered.  Here it was, the regret setting in.  The feelings of ‘what the fuck did I just do’.  Even worse was the feeling of knowing now that you had, all he had to do was say the word, and you’d be right back there again.

You exited the backseat of the car quickly, rushing to grab a cigarette from your glove compartment, your fingers shaky as you brought the lighter up to the tip.  Flicking it many times but not getting a flame.

“Fuck!” You yelled, chucking the lighter as far as you could, managing to make it over a fence and into the park.  

Jungkook had just gotten out of the back seat in time to witness your little display.  He didn’t say anything, simply grabbing another lighter from the front seat along with a cigarette for himself and walking it over to you.

You let him light your cigarette and the two of you stood for a minute in silence.

“Does this mean you’re actually back…” You whispered softly, almost not wanting to even ask, not wanting to know if it wasn’t the answer you were hoping to hear.

Maybe Jungkook knew that.  Maybe that’s why he didn’t say anything at all.

He never told you he loved you, he didn’t even try and make you feel loved.

Maybe it was good that way, it might make it a bit easier when he leaves again.

Maybe it was better that way, it was kinder than being lied to.

[sir-subpar]

Where have you been? (1)

*This takes place in the Cursed!Bf au. This is pretty focused on Pico's point of view. Not a lot of shipping in this chapter, but I had a lot of fun writing this. This will be a 2-parter. Btw, swear words.*

Pico had challenged Boyfriend to another rap battle for fun and awaited his arrival. He was late, but they did plan to meet up at 5:00 pm so Pico figured it was just rush hour traffic holding him up. So he waited patiently. Minutes turned to hours, and the sun had set below the horizon. Pico tried to text him, but got no response. This was bullshit. He waited for hours like a fool and now B was ghosting him? If he didn't want to rap why didn't he just cancel? 

Pico grit his teeth in frustration as he got into his car. He began driving to Boyfriend's and Girlfriend's house. His grip on the steering wheel was unnecessarily tight. Sure, maybe he was overreacting a little. It was just a rap battle, but it angered him that B had wasted his time. He could have done something to let him know that they had to cancel. So in the moment, telling him off just sounded cathartic. He muttered random obscenities under his breath, as if reciting how he was gonna tell him off.

By the time he had reached the house Bf and Gf shared together it was dark out, some stars had started making their mark on the blackened sky. Pico could see the living room light was on. Good, they were home. Pico slammed the car's door, then walked up the little path to the house's front door. He knocked on the door and waited. He tapped his foot impatiently. He had spent his whole afternoon waiting for this guy to show up so the idea of waiting any longer annoyed the hell out of him.

 He could hear the door being unlocked and was about to start his angry rant when he saw it was Girlfriend at the door. The look on her face was odd, she looked surprised and… worried? That seemed off to Pico, as she usually opened the door with more enthusiasm no matter who was there. She was wearing a red crop top and black sweatpants, her comfy clothes.

 "... Pico? What are you doing here?" She asked, her tone came off as nervous. "I just wanna ask Boyfriend something." He decided not to yell at Girlfriend, she wasn't the one he was pissed at anyway. "Oh… He isn't with you? He doesn't… live here anymore." 

Just like that, all the anger built up in Pico had just fizzled. Replaced with confusion and shock. And a little bit of worry. "Why doesn't he live here??" Pico asked, what was going on? "Bf and I… we broke up. He left a few weeks ago and I haven't seen him since." She seemed nervous, she avoided making eye contact as she spoke. She left fidgeting with her hair, a nervous habit of hers. 

"So you don't know where he is, huh?" Pico asked, he too, started feeling nervous. 

"I haven't seen him since we broke up. He left most of his stuff here too. Even his phone. I figured he had run off to stay with you but I guess that's not the case." Girlfriend continued. Pico's worry only grew from there. He put his hands in his pockets and awkwardly continued their conversation. "How long has this been going on? Like, when was the last time you saw him?"  Pico had to know. How long had he been out of the loop here? Girlfriend looked him in the eyes, almost shamefully. "Two weeks." 

Pico couldn't help but be shocked by this. "Do you know anyone else he might have talked to? Anyone he might be staying with right now?" Anyone who would know where he is? That was what he really wanted to know. Where could he have gone? Girlfriend shook her head. "No, I don't know who he'd go to other than you. Most people we know don't really like him that much as far as I know." Pico couldn't help but grow more worried. This just wasn't like B… was he in trouble? "Well.. I'm gonna try to find out where he is. You wanna help?" Pico gestured towards his car, thinking they could ask around. Girlfriend averted her gaze, once again avoiding eye contact. "I'm pretty sure I'm the last person he wants to see.." 

Pico couldn't argue with that. Hell, when he and Bf broke up they still kept in contact to some degree. Boyfriend completely ghosting someone was rare, so he must've really wanted to avoid her. "Yeah… I guess that makes sense. Uh, have a good night." Pico and Girlfriend shared goodbyes and went their separate ways. Pico never liked being alone with her, to be honest. It was always awkward, now it was made worse with Boyfriend being who knows where. Pico drove off in his car, contemplating what he should do. 'Maybe I should just call some of B's friends. He might just be staying at one of their places.' He thought to himself. 

Pico had to think about who Boyfriend trusted the most (not counting himself or Gf in this case). He started thinking of people B had introduced him to. 'I have Hex's number, he's friendly, maybe Bf talked to him? It's worth a shot.' Pico scrolled through his contacts until he found Hex's number. The phone dialed for a few seconds, then he heard a robotic voice greet him. "Hello friend!" Hex exclaimed, enthusiastic as always. Pico wasn't really sure if he'd consider himself as Hex's 'friend' per say, but he never disliked the guy. 

"Hey Hex, it's Pico." 

"Greetings Pico! Haven't heard from you in a while! How are you?" 

"I'm alright, thanks. I actually need to ask you something. Could you help me with something?"

"You sound worried. How can I help?"

"I know this might sound random but… is Boyfriend staying with you by chance?" Pico nervously tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. He hoped that by some chance that maybe Hex knew something.

"No, why?" Just like that, Pico's hope was dashed. Despite that, he decided to fill Hex in on the situation. Maybe having another person looking out for B would help their chances of finding him.

"Well, he and Girlfriend split up 2 weeks ago and he just kinda… disappeared. I've tried to reach out to him but he's not responding. Gf said she has no idea where he is."

" I'm sorry, I don't know any more than you do."

 Pico let out a small sigh. "Yeah, I'm worried about him. Hey, if you see him, will you let me know?" 

"I will."

"Thank you, I appreciate it." Pico was about to hang up the phone when Hex said one last thing. 

"Actually, my friend Whitty sometimes hangs out with Boyfriend. I'll call and ask him if he knows where Boyfriend is." Hex sounded hopeful, which made Pico feel a little better. "Thanks, Hex. Let me know what he says."

"Will do! Bye for now!" 

"Bye."

Pico hung up. Deciding to drive home for the time being. He couldn't help but suddenly wonder though… who was Whitty? The name sounded familiar, but he couldn't recall meeting someone named Whitty. Maybe Bf had mentioned the guy to Pico before. Regardless, if this guy knew anything about Bf, he'd take it. 

Pico got home and felt exhausted. He kicked his shoes off at the front door, and dragged his feet as he walked towards his bedroom. He changed into some pajamas and started preparing to sleep. Part of him wanted to stay up and wait to hear back from Hex, but he was tired, and he needed to rest. He'd continue his search after getting some sleep, he decided. Pico pulled his bedsheets over his body, closed his eyes, and eventually drifted off to sleep. 

…

Pico got up the next morning at around 7:30 am. He got dressed, brushed his hair and teeth, all that usual morning routine stuff. Then, just as he was about to start calling more people to see if they knew anything about Bf, he got a call from Hex.

"Hello? Hex?"

"Pico!" Hex yelled, sounding excited. "I have good news!" Now Pico was beginning to feel excited. "I talked to my friend Whitty. He said he saw Bf a few days ago!" 

"Does he know where B is now?" Pico was nervously fidgeting with the collar of his shirt. He wasn't entirely sure why, but ever since his conversation with Girlfriend, he just had a gut feeling that something was wrong. He hoped it was just paranoia. "Does he know where Bf is now?" Pico asked. 'Please say yes.' He pleaded in his mind. "Hang on, let me ask him." Hex replied, then his voice sounded distant. He was talking to someone in person, their conversation muffled. "He said no, but he saw Bf in the same general area a few times last week. Maybe all three of us should go there and look for him together! Like a search party!" Hex sounded hopeful, and honestly it wasn't a bad idea. Pico took a deep breath. This was a good thing, this narrowed the search a bit. Pico reminded himself. "Okay, let's do it." He said, feeling determined. "I'll send you the address so we can meet up. See you there!" Hex proclaimed. "Thanks, I'll be there." Pico hung up, then rushed to get his keys, his gun, and other supplies then got in his car. Hex, as promised, sent him the address. Pico entered it into his phone's navigation system and drove there. It was in an oddly run-down neighborhood, with rundown buildings and dark alleys. He wondered what Bf would be doing there. He honestly didn't like the idea of parking his car in this neighborhood, do you worried that it would get stolen or broken into. So he parkes a little ways away, and walked the rest. It was for the best. 

He walked to their agreed meet up spot. The sidewalk was in poor condition, as well as most of the buildings around him. Cracked and discolored walls, boarded up windows, shattered glass and trash was all over the place. The street alone looked as though the city gave up on it. This whole place was run down. Even one of the street lamps was knocked over, luckily it was the morning so it didn't matter. 

Pico could see Hex's monitor head and basketball jersey from a distance. Said robot noticed him and waved to him. He saw someone else there with him, presumably Whitty. Upon closer inspection, Pico noticed a few things about Whitty. The first being that he was fucking tall as hell! Pico knew that he was short in comparison to most people but even so, this dude was TALL. Pico standing at his full height wasn't even half this guy's size. He had to be close to 9 feet tall. The next thing he noticed was the fact that his head was a bomb. His eyes were orange and glowed. Pico couldn't help but stare at the guy. When did Bf come into contact with this guy? How did they meet?

"Hey." Said the tall bomb-headed man. Pico flinched slightly, realizing he must have noticed him staring. His voice was kind of gruff, but not the usual kind of gruff. It reminded Pico of an electric guitar for some reason. Though he figured it probably was best not to say that out loud. Pico snapped out of his thoughts and finally replied. "Hey, I'm Pico. I'm guessing you're Whitty?" Pico held out his hand to shake Whitty's, the taller man returned the gesture. "Yeah, that's me." When their hands touched, Pico was surprised by how warm Whitty's hand was. It was definitely hotter than his own human hand. Not to mention how smooth his skin was, it felt somewhat like metal, but not quite. He kind of wanted to keep holding it just so he could examine it more, but he figured that would be weird to do to a guy he just met. So he let go.

 "So… you saw Bf around here?" Pico asked, and decided it was time to start their search. "We crossed paths a few times but every time he ran away. He seemed… upset." Whitty explained, somewhat trailing off towards the end of his sentence. He too, seemed like he was worried about Boyfriend. Pico wondered how close they were. "Can you show us where you last saw him?" Hex asked, a question mark appearing on his screen. Whitty nodded "Yeah, follow me." He turned on his heels and began walking in front of them. He seemed confident, like he knew the area well. Pico and Hex quickly followed.

 It was mostly quiet between them, Hex played some simple tune to break the silence. Something Pico appreciated. He felt a little awkward, he didn't know anything about Whitty, but apparently he was a friend of Bf's. He quickened his pace a bit so he could walk next to Whitty, he decided to break the silence between them. "So… how'd you meet Bf?" Whitty looked at Pico with an unreadable expression. "He challenged me to a rap battle." Pico chuckled at Whitty's answer and replied jokingly with "Ah, so the same way he meets everyone." Whitty chuckled. "Yeah, pretty much." He could hear Hex laugh a bit too. It really was the way he met most people. "So, how long have you known each other?" Pico asked. "Hmm… I think months now, almost a year. What about you? You two seem close." Whitty looked at Pico quizzically. Pico rubbed the back of his neck "Aw geez, a really long time. Since we were kids." Whitty's eyes widened in surprise. "Wow. So you're really close then huh? That explains a lot actually."  Pico tilted his head in curiosity. What did he mean by that? "Yeah? Like what?"  Whitty shrugged. "I dunno… B talks about you sometimes. He told me several times that I should meet you. Said he thought we'd get along." Whitty chuckled. "He always looked so happy when he talked about you.." 

Pico couldn't help but feel flattered, but he also felt a little jealous. Bf told Whitty so much, he trusted him. He knew He longer than Whitty did, yet Bf apparently didn't trust him enough to tell him about his and Gf's breakup. Pico tried to ignore those thoughts. Bf, wherever he was, needed him. It wasn't time to be bitter. "Wish we could've met under better circumstances." Pico muttered, Whitty nodded. "Yeah."

Hex then decided to interject their conversation. "Hey Whitty, are we close to where you last saw Boyfriend?" The robot asked suddenly, startling Pico. For a second, he actually forgot the robot was there. 'Oh yeah.. We've been walking for a little while now.' Pico realized that he had lost track of where they were. "Yeah, sorry. It's just around this next corner, we're almost there." Whitty instructed. "Ok!" Hex replied. Pico nodded, observing their surroundings. This part of the neighborhood was… odd. It didn't seem quite as old as the rest of this beaten-down area. It seemed more… recently abandoned. The buildings, though still a mess, seemed more modern in comparison. Like at some point, this was a nice neighborhood, possibly even upper class at one point. 

The trio turned right at the faded crosswalk, about three buildings down the street, they stopped. Whitty turned to face Pico and Hex. "This is where I last saw him. I tried to talk to him but he ran off and I lost track of him." Pico looked at the rundown building they were in front of. Unlike the other buildings in the area, it didn't seem that old. What surprised him though, was the obvious damage. It looked like the building caught fire at some point. The windows looked like they were shattered from the inside. Pico looked through them, he could see the remains of what appeared to be a restaurant. Broken and burned tables, shattered plates and collapsed support beams were all over the place. He could see the remains of broken speakers towards the back of the dining room, close to what was probably a bathroom. Pico took a few steps back and tried to read what was left of the restaurant's sign. Then it clicked.

 He had heard of this place, about a year ago it was on the news because some lunatic blew up the place in the middle of a rap battle. He remembered seeing Boyfriend and Girlfriend escaping the smoldering wreckage on the news. He called them as soon as he saw it and let them stay at his house that night to comfort them. He could vividly remember the look on Girlfriend's face when they watched the aftermath on the news. Complete and utter terror. He had never seen her more scared in his life. Apparently the arsonist was never caught, for some reason. Pico never understood that. It was a restaurant full of people, surely somebody would have seen where he went, right? The thought made Pico uneasy. Why would B come anywhere near this place after that?

"Yo, Pico. You listening?" Whitty's voice suddenly pulled him out of his thoughts. He wondered how long he was zoning out for. "Sorry I- I just got lost in thought. What were you saying?" Pico felt bad. He was supposed to be looking for his missing friend, not zoning out. Pico mentally chastised himself for it before focusing on Whitty again. "I don't know where he went from here, but I don't think he left this side of town." Pico nodded, then looked up at Hex, his monitor was processing something. Pico guessed he was thinking up a plan. Then the monitor showed a map. "Maybe we should split up into different areas" the robot started, his now map that was once his face highlighted three different areas in the neighborhood. "After each of us surveys their area we can check in with each other over the phone." Hex offered. Pico, though he appreciated the thought, didn't really like the idea of the three of them splitting up in a neighborhood like this. Sure, he could take care of himself. Hell, he was an assassin for fucks sake. But even he knew he wasn't invincible. He was vulnerable. Especially in an area he wasn't familiar with. Before he could politely object though, Whitty commented on the plan. "Sorry Hex, that's a no go. This place ain't a good area. If we split, we could get ambushed." Pico was relieved that Whitty agreed with him. "If there were more of us, then we could split up into teams. But it's just too risky to do as is." Pico added, making his stance on the situation known. Hex sighed (or at least did the robot equivalent of sighing), his arms dropped and his now disappointed face appeared on the monitor's screen again. "Ok… this is far less efficient though." Hex replied, defeated. Pico gave him a comforting pat on the arm. "We appreciate the thought, Hex." Pico said, hoping it would appease the mechanical man. Hex smiled and let it go. "Where should we start looking?" Hex asked the group. Pico couldn't help but eye the burnt restaurant. "Let's check in here first." Whitty and Hex both looked at Pico quizzically, but shrugged it off and agreed. 

Pico attempted to open the front doors, but they wouldn't give, the restaurant's double doors were stuck shut. Pico was about to slam into it when he was stopped by a large hand. Slightly startled, he realized it was Whitty who lightly grabbed him. The bomb man gently moved Pico away from the door."I got it." Was all he said before he gripped one of the door's handles and yanked the whole door off its hinges. Wood splinters flew everywhere as the door cracked and broke.  Whitty tossed the door aside with one arm. Pico's jaw almost dropped. 'Holy shit. Either that door was weak or he's strong as hell!' Pico was tempted to comment on it but didn't want to come across as rude so all he did was thank Whitty. Hex on the other hand clapped his metallic claw hands, the metal making numerous "ting" sounds. "Great job Whitty!" Hex exclaimed before walking through the now open doorway. Whitty rubbed the back of his head, seeming a little embarrassed. Pico noticed Whitty's cheeks were slightly glowing orange. Was that how he blushed? "Err.. Thanks. It's nothing." Whitty had to lean down in order to fit through the doorway, Pico walked in after him. 

The three of them spread out a bit to investigate the remains of the restaurant. Pico honestly thought it was depressing to look at. This had once been a peaceful place to take your loved ones to and enjoy food. Now it was just a husk of its former glory. An ashy, decrepit ruin. After a few minutes, they found nothing and decided to leave. Pico felt bad for wasting time in this old building, but he was glad the others were still willing to help. The trio decided to keep looking around the neighborhood, continuing their search for Boyfriend.

…

Hours. They had been searching for hours, and there was still no sign of Boyfriend anywhere. Pico felt his legs getting sore. He hadn't walked so much without stopping in a long time. Hex seemed unfazed, but maybe that was because robots couldn't get sore muscles. Whitty seemed a little tired, but didn't show signs of really slowing down. Pico really wanted to just power through it and be helpful, but his legs were in agony. He needed to sit down. It didn't help that it was past noon and he hadn't eaten much that day. "Hey guys. I need to sit down for a bit, my legs are killing me." Pico admitted, hopong the others would be cool about it. "Okay, let's take a break. We've been doing this all day." Whitty agreed. Hex noticed a bench in the distance. "Why don't you rest over there?" The robot offered, and the other boys agreed. The bench was a bit tall, Pico had to hop on to it. Whitty on the other hand had no such trouble, being the vertically-blessed giant he was. Pico was a little jealous. Pico let out a sigh. "Where the hell is that blue-haired dumbass?" Pico asked rhetorically, he was getting frustrated with this. He was worried, tired, and felt lost. He thought he knew Bf well, but he didn't know him well enough to predict this. "I wish I knew." Whitty added, sounding worried as well. Pico was thinking about what to say when his stomach growled loudly. 

"Hungry, huh?" Whitty chuckled. "Fuck yes, I'm starving." Pico replied. "You know what? I'm gonna get lunch. You hungry?" Pico asked, standing up despite his legs begging him not to. "I'm always hungry, sure." Whitty chuckled again. "I'm never hungry!" Hex happily chirped. That time Pico chuckled. "Well, you could still come with us, even if you don't eat anything." Pico offered. "Thank you friend!" Hex smiled. "Cool." Pico gave a thumbs up. "So… where are we going?" Whitty asked, tilting his head a bit. He stood up, ready to follow Pico. "First to my car. Then I'll drive us to a restaurant or something." Pico explained, beginning to walk towards said vehicle. "Just a heads up, I parked a bit far, but it should only take, like, 20 minutes to get there." Pico warned, knowing the others (or at least Whitty) were tired as well. "No problem friend! Lead the way!" Hex declared enthusiastically. Whitty just shrugged and said "We've been walking for hours, 's not like 20 minutes will kill us." And just like that, they were off.

…

Pico, as promised, drove the three of them to a small diner that wasn't too far away. It was thankfully in a nicer neighborhood. The three sat together at a booth table near the back. Hex had powered off to regain some energy. More or less leaving Whitty and Pico alone.

 "Hey, lunch is on me, k?" Pico stated. He had been paid generously on his last job, so he wasn't worried about meal prices. Whitty seemed caught off guard. "Uh, y-you don't have to do that-" "I insist." Pico bluntly interjected. Whitty again, tried to decline. "I shouldn't- you don't need to do that, really." Whitty stammered a bit. Pico doubled down on it. "I'm not budging on this man." Whitty tilted his head to the side curiously, but still seemed slightly flustered. "Why are you so persistent in paying for both of us?" Whitty asked. Pico shrugged. "I just want to thank you for all your help today. I've been stressed out trying to figure out where B is and I really appreciate you helping us out." Pico said earnestly, he was still really worried about Boyfriend. "I.. You're welcome. I'm not gonna lie, I care about him, and I'm worried for the guy. Last time I saw him, he seemed off." Whitty confessed, rubbing the back of his head. Pico's curiosity piqued a bit. "Off? In what wa-" ''Hello boys! Can I get you something to drink?" Pico was suddenly interrupted by their waitress.  "Oh. Right. We should probably order something haha." Pico joked, chuckling a bit. "I'll take a Coke. What about you Whitty?" Pico asked, gesturing towards the taller male. "I'd just like water, please." Whitty replied, the waitress wrote their drink orders. "Okay. Are you ready to order your meals as well?" She asked sweetly. "I think we need a few minutes." Admitted Pico. "Okay, I'll give you some time to think about it and will be back with your drinks in a bit, okay?" Whitty and Pico politely thanked her and looked at their menus. 

"What're you thinking of ordering?" Pico asked, he wondered what kind of food Whitty enjoyed. "I don't know. I'm still surprised that you're paying for both of us." Whitty responded unsurely. "It's all good man. I got it" Pico gave a reassuring smile. "I just want to warn you that I eat a LOT. I'm not exactly cheap to feed." Whitty warned, embarrassed. Pico chuckled, "I'm not exactly peckish, either." "I really mean it, Pico. I eat more than humans do." Whitty once again gave a disclaimer to Pico. "And I really mean it when I say I'll cover it. Just get what you want." Pico stated adamantly. 

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"..."

"..." 

"Are you sure?"

"Whitty if you ask me that again I'm gonna smack the shit out of you."

(To be continued…)

(I wanted to write more but this is long so I'm gonna break it into two chapters. The next one is gonna have more angst so I wanted to end this one on a bit of a lighter note

[sometimes-love-is-enough]

re: your last ask about the time travel shenanigans—holy fuck yes please more of this. like, not only is it funny as hell, which i appreciate, but it's also a. more c!thomas and b. points to just how interestingly both the plot and characters of this series have grown over the years and i am ALL for it

"Janus!" is the first thing Thomas exclaims when he sees the Side Formerly Known Exclusively As Deceit rise up where Logan would usually stand. Which just might be a mistake, if Janus’s expression is anything to go by.

Okay, in Thomas's defence -

This is a really, really weird day, even by his standards. Because, like, Logan's currently standing in front of the stairs, and that's not where Logan's supposed to be, and his shirt and tie are all wrong. And had had been grinning. Openly. He had been openly grinning when Thomas had first woken up and looked in his wardrobe and realized that his favorite t-shirt apparently doesn't exist anymore and all his clothes are a half-size smaller than he's used to but also they still fit and - okay, no, back to Logan. He'd gone downstairs and tripped over a chair that wasn't supposed to be there and called out Logic. And he'd been about to ask him what's going on and why everything feels so off and also why Logan's standing in Virgil's usual spot instead of over to the right of the stairs. But then he'd noticed all the aforementioned Very Weird Clothing Things. And he'd stopped and said, "Uh, Logan?" and Logan's grin had dropped and he'd stared at Thomas for a full ten seconds then whispered, "what the fuck," with great emotion.

And then Patton had shown up with a ridiculous amount of pun-riddled cheerfulness that Thomas had been able to clock as sixty-percent fake within about half a second. And his clothes had been all wrong, too, and after a lot of confused, borderline-incomprehensible yelling at each other, Roman had showed up and added to the chaos.

"I am scared and confused and on the verge of completely losing it!" Thomas had declared at some point, which had been the cue for an ominous music sting somewhere to Thomas's right that made everybody jolt in terrified unison.

"Did somebody say scared and confused and on the verge of completely losing it?"

"Virgil, thank god!" Thomas had practically yelled, and just about thrown himself across the room to get to him - before pausing midway and allowing his brain to process... wrong hoodie. Wrong amount of eyeshadow. "Wait. No, hang on, is this - "

"FUCKING WHO," Virgil shrieked, leaping backwards half a flight of stairs, which had led to another round of confused yelling, with Thomas trying to assure them all that he's fine he hasn't had some sort of strange head injury or whatever, he's just really happy to see Virgil and no of course that's not weird, what do you mean who's Virgil, that's Virgil right over there, Roman please put down that sword things are already out of hand -

And at some point Thomas had got it into his head that the most reasonable course of events was to summon the one person who always seems to know everything that everybody else doesn't, which brings everything up to speed, more or less. Roman had gone, "Thomas, what are you doing," and Thomas, feeling slightly manic at this point, had said, "I'm trying to summon a demon, obviously," because the best way to get hold of a certain someone probably is blatant lying, and boom, instant Janus.

"Jeee-sus Christ on a cookie-shaped canoe, what is he doing here?!"

"Janus!"

So, Janus pops up, he looks literally the same as he always has (except maybe with shorter hair? Wait, they all have shorter hair, including Thomas, wait a second -) with his half-snake-face and his hat and gloves that cosy-looking capelet of his. And although his expression reflects faint bewilderment and that very particular 'wait, what' emotion that results in being pulled abruptly away from something you were busy with, he looks so normal that Thomas thinks for a moment he might be the only sane person left.

But then Janus makes a series of start-and-stop noises of incomprehension, and gestures wildly towards Virgil, who's crouched midway up on the stairs behind Logan, looking like a cornered wild animal, and snaps, "Why for the love of everything that's holy would you tell him my name?"

"You think this is me?" Virgil retorts, hands going up to grab desperately at the bars lining the side of the staircase. "I don't understand anything that's going on! He somehow knows my name! He's - he's being nice to me!"

It suddenly occurs to Thomas that this might just possibly be a time travel sort of thing. It would explain the clothes shift. And the altered layout of his house. And the fact that when he'd checked his phone this morning it had told him it was 2016, and also it hadn't been his phone, it had been the one he'd broken a few years ago in a tragic piano-moving-related accident.

...Okay, yeah, this is absolutely a time travel thing.

"Is somebody going to explain why Thomas ruined all of our heartfelt name reveal moments in one fell swoop?" Roman demands. "I thought we agreed we were going to do them gradually and draw them out as long as possible for dramatic effect!"

"I agreed to none of that," Virgil snaps from his position halfway up the stairs.

"Yes," says Logan, "yes, I think we all would like to know what's going on. Thomas? What's going on?"

"Uh - " Thomas, who has just come to a rather startling realization about time travel and also about how shitty his Sides' taste in costumes were pre-wardrobe change, doesn't really have a prepared answer for this. "I have... I am - I just - "

Thomas struggles for words. Really struggles. And everyone's just standing there, watching him with expressions that range from terror to confusion to suspicion, and they all look so weirdly young in a way that's hard to pin down. It's the clothes. It's probably the clothes, or maybe it's the way they hold themselves. Roman, carelessly confident, without a doubt in the world. Patton, still wearing a fixed dad-grin, politely baffled and looking back and forth. Logan, who hasn't been systematically beaten down and pushed back over the course of many, many years. Virgil, who's basically just a ball of grey-and-black anger and acerbic anger at this point. Janus, who's... Janus. Who's looking at him in a way that Janus has never looked at him before.

And Remus is probably lurking somewhere in the back of his mind, too, doing whatever Remus does, and - would Remus be any different now, four years prior? Thomas hadn't had any significant problems with intrusive thoughts, not back then... or, well, back now. Maybe he's calmer, maybe Thomas could actually talk with him. Try to work something out, try to understand.

But wait, he's still got to give the Sides right here and right now an answer.

Hm.

...Thomas has been through a lot in the past four years. Not, like, fantasy protagonist a lot, but more like a extended psychological journey of self-discovery and mental health crises. Now, he wouldn't trade any of this for the world, because he's learned a hell of a lot about himself in the process - but also? The Sides have put him through a lot of horrifying realization-type things.

Which is why he absolutely one hundred percent deserves to do what he's about to do next.

"I," says Thomas, with an extraordinary amount of confidence and self-assuredness, "am psychic."

And the dead silence holds. Now even Patton is staring at him in disbelief. Janus has graduated into outright horror, his face twisted up into a oh god no I am somehow responsible for letting him delude himself this far expression.

"Thomas!" Roman gasps, almost instantly lighting up with genuine enthusiasm. "Oh, Thomas, I'm so proud, we've been working on this for years. Tell me, does this extend to telekinesis, or just somehow knowing all our names and nothing else?"

"What?" Janus says. "What - no. No, you can't seriously be going along with this - what? That... what? That doesn't even make any sense?" He turns wildly from left to right, and - okay, it's very enjoyable to see him out of his depth, to be perfectly honest. Thomas likes Janus a lot, knows he has his best interests at heart, but the whole courtroom thing had been a major dick move. This is satisfying. "Are any of you getting this? Does anyone here understand what's going on?"

"I'm psychic," Thomas repeats doggedly. "I acquired magical psychic powers and now I know all of your names and tragic backstories. Surprise! I unlocked my full potential and the ninety-percent of my brain power that I wasn't using."

"That's - that's a widely-perpetuated and wildly incorrect myth," Logan says weakly.

"Nope. Turns out it's true, and I was only using ten percent of it, and now that I've gone full big-brain, I know that Patton's repressing all his bad feelings because he doesn't want to bother anyone with them, Virgil acts all scary and menacing because he thinks it's the only way that I'll ever listen to him, and Janus is secretly a huge dork with a heart of gold - uh, yellow, I guess."

"How dare you," Janus breathes, looking horrified.

"Wha - " Patton suddenly looks very pale indeed.

"Also, Roman, you're my hero; Logan, please never stop smiling like that ever again, it's literally my favorite thing in the world and if you ever stop being enthusiastic about teaching me things I will cry - and Virgil, I love you."

Virgil lets out a choked little noise like he's just been punched directly in the stomach.

"I love all of you," Thomas adds, an afterthought. "I never say that enough. Janus, that goes for you as well. You're right, I need to take care of myself more."

"I'm - " Janus is still looking around at everyone in complete disbelief, but now his gaze fixes onto Thomas, his eyes wide. "I'm what?"

Thomas is now on a roll. An extremely cathartic sort of roll. "And Remus -"

Everybody immediately panics. Virgil and Logan's hands both immediately leap up to clasp over their mouths, which seems to be a reflexive reaction on Janus's behalf. Patton lets out a deranged-sounding high pitched giggle that edges into genuine hysteria.

"Brother? What brother? I don't know what a brother is!" Roman says loudly. "I've never had a brother in my life! Thomas, your glorious psychic powers are malfunctioning. Have you tried turning them off and turning them on again?"

" - I'm not going to lie and say I love him, but -" Thomas stops abruptly, and staggers  backwards to catch himself on the couch as a thought strikes him out of literally nowhere. "Son of a bitch -"

"Does being psychic make you swear a lot?" Patton asks weakly. "Because, uh. Not sure I like this side of you, kiddo - "

"Logan," says Thomas. "Logan, what's the date today? This is so, so important, what's the date."

"It's... October," Logan says, very slowly. "October twentieth. 2016?"

"Holy shit," Thomas whispers, and then says it louder, "holy shit. Okay, listen. I was going to sort out all of our collective psychological issues in one impressive emotional speedrun, but I've realized we have something much more important to do." He pauses, and takes in a very deep, shuddering breath. "Guys. We can save Vine. Excuse me. I've just realized I’ve got to make a lot of calls."

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

The Voyage So Far: Skypiea

east blue (1 | 2) || alabasta (1 | 2) || skypiea || water 7 || enies lobby || thriller bark || paramount war (1 | 2) || fishman island || punk hazard || dressrosa (1 | 2) || whole cake island || wano (1 | 2)

the bar scene in jaya is one i didn’t really get the first time i read it- like nami, i mostly found luffy and zoro’s refusal to fight back frustrating more than anything else. i didn’t realize the connection to shanks in the prologue until someone else pointed it out awhile later, but when i did, it made me appreciate the entire sequence and luffy’s choices a lot more. 

honestly, i know this is one of the pages that gets the most attention from jaya, and it absolutely deserves it. blackbeard here is effectively dropping one of the biggest main themes of the series- people’s dreams don’t end!!- and how interesting that we get that delivered by the antagonist to the protagonist, instead of the other way around? how often do you see a series do that? 

and the line hits. look at the emphasis. there’s absolutely nothing on these two pages except for the three strawhats, blackbeard, and blackbeard’s line, bigger than anything else. 

chapter 232, with luffy punching out bellamy in one hit is still, to this day, probably my favorite one piece chapter. it opens with the drunk pirate seeing the newspaper with luffy’s hundred million bounty and realizing just who bellamy was kicking around, and it hits on one of my favorite plot threads of one piece- the growing infamy of the strawhats and luffy in particular, and their rise in the world. 

the atmosphere of the whole scene is so good, the tension in their air, the way all the bar patrons jump when luffy yells for bellamy to come out- and when the hit comes, the satisfaction is visceral. 

i’ve talked about it before, but god, i LOVE the way one piece defines “romance”- the arthurian kind of romance, the adventurous kind, that romanticizes the world and its wonders- romance dawn. in an arc as thematically heavy as jaya, it makes sense that it, too, is explicitly brought up. can you think of a more romantic, impossible adventure than traveling to the sky?

nami’s confidence when faced with the task of navigating into the sky is so fantastic. 

the expressions, and the art in general, in skypiea, are really so lovely. look at the variety between the strawhats when they first emerge from the white-white sea to lay eyes on angel island. look how expressive they all are!! i have such a soft place in my heart for the art in these earlier arcs, honestly.

somewhat related to the above: there are so many little moments in skypiea where the strawhats just get to have FUN, and be stupid, and get fleshed out more as characters, and honestly it’s such a delight. also, everyone’s skypiea outfits were just really really good. cowboy hat robin... i miss u every day 

i really like the whole scene where robin is exploring the ruins, and these panels in particular have such a lovely sort of ethereal look to them. i love seeing robin doing archeology, i think for the same reason i love to see sanji cooking- the strawhats are all such cool and passionate people, and it’s really really nice to see them doing and talking about the things they love and excel at most. 

i’m sure i’ve said it before but i LOVE how logia powers are depicted, especially when used to avoid an attack. it’s so cool. ace’s cover story runs through most of this arc, and we get some great examples of it there as well. 

1. wife 

2. skypiea is SUCH a good character-building arc for robin- which is good, because the next saga is almost entirely predicated on how much both the audience and the strawhats care about her. it’s here where we learn about her passion for archeology, her reverence for history, and get a much better look at the softer sides of her personality and her fast-growing admiration and affection for the strawhats. 

man, enel has so many huge, terrifyingly powerful shows of force throughout this arc, but this right here, this little sequence where he appears behind raki between panels without warning and we see him reflected in her eye, communicates better than absolutely anything else just why he’s a nightmare.

“jonny you sure are posting a lot of panels of zoro being cool without any real commentary” yeah. he kicks ass in this arc 

conis is a very underrated character, i think. she’s pretty easy to overlook, but she also manages to completely break the indoctrination she’s been raised into and gambles her own life to save most of the population of angel island from complete extermination. she yells that she doesn’t recognize enel as god, an instant death sentence at any other time, just to get them to listen to her. 

there’s a moment, in this scene, where a boy throws a rock at her for insulting enel, and she just stands there, and lets the blood trickle down her face, and keeps making her case. honestly, i really like her.

look at this page. look how it’s framed. luffy in the foreground, taking up most of the page- enel in the background, tiny, inconsequential. 

now that’s how you draw god’s natural enemy. 

this is one of my favorite nami character moments in the whole manga. nami is a greedy person. she has a lot of things she wants. it’s one of her defining traits. 

but when faced with someone with godlike power, offering her absolutely anything she wants if she’ll just abandon her friends and come with him- she doesn’t want anything, for that price, even with her life on the line if she declines. she knows exactly what her treasure is. 

obviously this is an awesome panel, but sanji’s little smile just before enel strikes him is what really, really makes it for me. he’s about to get slammed with several thousand volts of lightning, but more importantly, nami and usopp are going to be safe. 

the skypiea flashback is one of my very favorites, and also the first time one piece ever made me cry. i nearly cried just flipping through it again for this post. it’s just so fucking devastating.

noland never stopped looking, and calgara never stopped waiting, and neither of them ever lost faith in each other despite how badly they fell out at the end, and wow, that just kills me. but at the same time, it makes the way the flashback and the main story come together at the end so satisfying and cathartic.

i do think skypiea has one of the best climaxes of any arc. the way all the disparate elements and plot threads- enel, the story of noland and calgara, the war between the skypieans and shandians, cricket’s search down on jaya- come together and tie up so perfectly that the entire arc can be ended by the ringing of a single massive bell is nothing less than genius writing. 

i really love the establishment of roger’s poneglyph message and all the things it implies here. it raises so many questions, most of which we’ve only now gotten answered, in wano. oda’s capacity for long-term storytelling is one of his greatest strengths, and this is probably one of my favorite examples of it. (see also, in jaya when sanji mentions offhand that he was born in north blue.)

i just really love seeing them all smiling, and i love the parallels to calgara and noland’s sendoff here. feels like a wound finally healing, after four hundred years. 

and, of course, it ends with cricket, asking what crazy, romantic dream they’re going to chase down next. because this is one piece!! just because you find the end of one rainbow doesn’t mean you stop looking for the next one.