#never gets to witness just how badly he fucked up that's a bit unfair to everyone else no?

[polteageist-s]

late to the party with bad jokes as usual

#the terror #john franklin #franklin expedition #amc the terror #the terror season 1 #terror #meme #shitpost #kind of funny like he starts this mess then dies so early #never gets to witness just how badly he fucked up that's a bit unfair to everyone else no?

[kissesnhxarts]

Oh God, hold me.

Because I think only something that's invisible and unknown can bear witness to the raging turmoil I'm having inside my heart.

I thought I was doing something good or different this time. It was going to be a deep talk where we address the age old question of what he had always left inside, but I was only left alone sitting on the kitchen chair all hunched over my knees as my eyes got wet at the thought of what I had done.

I felt adamant. I knew what I was doing.

I didn't know what happened.

I didn't realize how bad it was.

He was angry at me, that is for sure. I unintentionally said something that made him lose control of himself and for a moment there- I saw a glimpse of the man or boy I didn't know of. Someone who held so strongly to the past, busy wishing his lovers away and yet he couldn't forget their ghosts.

Sometimes, I wonder if I was one.

If I was a walking and talking ghost to him. I understood how different our relationship had been afterwards. Oh, how haunted it must feel.

I felt like it was unfair.

I cried at how cruel life must've treated him. To the point he'd hate love till he's blinded by what's past that- it kills me to know how alone of a life he's been living, and yet he aches for a semblance of touch.

At the same time, I couldn't have understood to a degree of what he wants. It was all wrong, so to say. It's not fair because I only had him before and I can't even cry about it in front of anybody; especially him!

What was it about me that he so desperately held onto and now hates about? I'll never know. I'll envy his future lovers at how much damage that I've had to endure throughout this "friendship", she'll never know what it's like.

Now, I just lay here, paralyzed by my feelings.

Wondering if he felt bad for having projected his insecurities and hate of love and of his lovers towards me in the way how I feel bad for having fucked up in one of my choice of words to comfort him.

Turns out his exes are just another sore subject for him. It makes me want to cry just a bit more as well. For I am just the same, aren't I?

God, please hold me.

Because I think no one can do it right now.

Everything is already going wrong.

I should've stopped when I saw the smoke signals flare.

My eyes are kept half-opened. They say that weight of everything rests on your shoulder, but I feel like I'm seeing too many instances of grief to the point that weight rests on my eyelids. Something happened, I just let something unknown to me go.

I let this feeling settle inside my tummy, making it turn into an ache that I can explain. How do I explain, even, right? That I'll have to be faced with the fact that there's a potential happiness for him besides me, and I'd get to see and hear it happen. That I feel miserable over how he pictures me as one of his begrudged exes. That I hear it happen to him and how badly it had hurt his heart, but did he ever turn back to ask if I was even alright in his bouts of anger. That I did, in fact, felt more alone. That...That...

That I hated just being a background person in his life, like I was never there to begin with. How oblivious I was with the idea of pink when it came to him, but it was never really reciprocated, wasn't it?

How I hated myself for having been so vulnerable.

How I had been cut open and dissected pieces by pieces, my heart on the floor. Discarded and unwanted and forgotten. Was I ever any different in your mind?

I didn't have to ask him. I don't really have to.

His boys provide him with enough defect insight so he'd ignore what I said in favor of a more easier poison.

I could never hate him entirely, though.

But I did hate the way how my vulnerability was taken as an okay to stomp through the gates and take away more pieces than what I had intended to share. It kills me, too, don't you know? Sick of it.

I was on the brink of suicide and giving up on life.

You had your best mate and lived alongside the main protagonist you so badly wanted to be all about, you bitch.

If I was given a chance to find my own pack like yours, I'd do so earlier. But I fucked up that chance, so why should I be feeling sad over it?

I gave you my fucking heart, you tossed it. Made me cry over your pain. I fucking cry, too. I'm emotional, too. Don't throw me bullshit that involves wanting the best for yourself when you don't even look at your surroundings at what you've got.

I've already lived through this enough to figure out that my worth is more than weak, willed, crying boys who cling unto ghosts that matter. I can't fucking believe I tried to know who you fucking were. In hindsight, I knew what I was getting into. You were already a mess and so am I. Difference is I know how to turn my stupid messy shit on mute when I need to, I don't need to focus on dumb shit that won't do anything for me. But you, you. Your issue is with the baggage that drags you behind, and I can't stay back long for anyone who won't move an inch of their life from that.

I hate that I'll still be around there and talk to you and play your games. It's either just for my own self pleasure or it's to gauge how much more can I push this boundary with myself until I find out and get what I can found.

Most of my contempt will lie with this.

How I played the bleeding heart maiden. With my wide eyed gaze and my hands enveloped with each other. I touched your soul and you let me in, but at the cost of my soul bared too.

All I did touch was a phantom.

And I gave you my all.

#personally me. #funny heavy feelings today at 6 am #it all started with an innocent question abt gender roles and how patriarchy has affected us #he fully believes in being wired that way entirely and I want to not think so #he resents me now #i can feel it #i can see the seething rage that permeates throughout the atmosphere and I breathe into it till it clogs my chest #so i shut my eyes #because if I slowed down my breath then maybe it would be enough to have kept me asleep forever #im sorry #and that's all i could muster up #being sorry

[sanzu-sanzu-sanzu]

i’ve been thinking,, since bonten!ran, rin, and koko all have dyed hair (maybe even mikey unless the white is from stress), do they all go to a salon every month to get a touch up, or do they all just makes plans to get together on a day every month and touch it up themselves? (and if we were to tie it into your fic, perhaps reader helps them dye it?) sorry for this crackhead ask, i’m just having random thoughts in the middle of the night.

ANON HELLO I APOLOGIZE FOR THE SUPER LATE RESPONSE lol this has been in my ask for so long so i’m so sorry ahaha, but ok, i think they usually go their separate ways when redying/styling their hair. at one point, they all would go to the same salon that was recommended by rindou and ran. there’s this one stylist who’d done countless jobs on the haitanis’ hair for years and eventually just became bonten’s like go-to stylist. if they all happened to be there it’s mostly coincidence if not simple convenience (insert the spiderman meme) and when more than one executive had to spend a long time there the entire place was obligated to close. sometime later tho the salon got caught in the middle of a local crossfire (not c/o the executives of course bec they’re more careful than that, it was some other bonten members) and had to relocate :-( which proved to be too far / too impractical for manjiro + some of them to go to tho so..goodbye stylist. because of it, some of them simply had to learn to do retouch and stuff themselves cus..if somebody else does it and they fuck up they could end up with a dead body, right? especially ran rindou and koko (oh, koko is one meticulously styled man he’d strangle anyone who does so much as muss up his hair). surprisingly, sanzu’s pink hair doesn’t stress him out as much as you might expect—like, if he somehow ends up with a slightly brighter pink he might grumble for a bit, hypothetically speaking, but he wouldn’t right away kill the stylist you know—he does care but he’d get used to it WHICH IS what irks the others cus he’s never had a bad hair job, which is simply unfair. just like manjiro…nobody knows how but somehow his hair’s always been perfectly done. and Reader, because she’s stopped dying her hair after high school. she’s had, back then, dyed her hair pink and purple and blue and green i swear every color known to man, and blonde too styled like rogue’s hair, and whatever hair fuck-ups she’d had only the og toman guys have witnessed (yes, even sanzu, and manjiro had at one point remarked how his consistent shade of pink had been the same shade that she had had for like, four months all those years ago. on second thought, maybe sanzu would be pissed if his hair ends up with the wrong shade of pink…)

SO, back to their stylist going away and them learning how to do their own hair. so naturally, there was a time when half the bonten executives had funny looking, badly teased hair, even koko unfortunately so it was a funny, hellish time for all the wrong reasons. which was where Reader came in. it was the second time of the day that koko had “””accidentally””” snapped at her for very petty reasons and she—not exactly the model of patience as others would be made to believe—right there and then stood up, she’s like, Okay, that’s it, we’re fixing that horrible ash blonde, come on. and that’s how she ended up going to koko’s house that afternoon and koko subdued and grumpy at his toilet at the mercy of Reader’s surprisingly adept hands (which was when he remembered, Oh yeah she had neon green tips back in the day..).

long story short, the haitanis ended up roping her to get theirs fixed too when koko came in the next day with his normal, beautifull silver tresses back, smug as a rock. so that strange bonten phase was over. about a year later, ran and rindou had tried coaxing Reader again to help them with their touch-ups, which she eventually agreed to after some under the table dealings that yielded to her getting free lunch for 2 weeks (one for each haitani). it happened that koko had requested her help too and she was like, you know what, let’s just all get together one saturday afternoon and do it all in one place. the saturday afternoon actually became a thursday 2AM because their schedules are just fucked up like that. and so it goes.

sanzu had been so blessed (but also, maybe, cursed) to not have a bad case of hair retouch as to ever warrant Reader’s help in that regard.. oh, but she had, this one time, done a double take at his hair after a hair re-dye and then smiled, which caught him off-guard.. “i’ve always liked this shade of pink.” she simply said before waking off. sanzu had no reason letting anybody know and so it just became his little secret. maybe Reader’s, too, if she remembers. (she does).

—

thank you for sending this, anon! i hope u enjoyed :)

#bonten #bonten x you #bonten x reader #bonten x y/n #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x reader #sanzu #sanzu haruchiyo #haruchiyo sanzu #haruchiyo #sanzu x reader #sanzu x you #sanzu x y/n #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x you #sanzu haruchyo x y/n #ran haitani #haitani ran #rindou haitani #haitani rindou #koko #kokonoi hajime #hajime kokonoi #haitani #haitani ran x you #haitani rindou x you #koko x you #sano manjiro #mikey

[morganaspendragonss]

reckless but honest words

However much TK had thought he’d grown used to his parents’ shit, he’s far from prepared for the next words that come out of his dad’s mouth.

“We’re - that is to say, your mom - well… We’re having a baby.”

ao3 | 2.3k | title from anger by sleeping at last

TK narrows his eyes as he walks into his parents’ house, the trepidation that’s been building throughout the day coming to a peak as he spots them waiting for him on the couch. His dad had texted earlier, specifically requesting he come home tonight instead of going to Carlos’s, and while TK hadn’t exactly had any objections, it had given him a bad feeling.

His suspicions are instantly confirmed when he sees his parents’ unnatural postures, the way they’re smiling at him just a bit too widely. He walks in cautiously, feeling weirdly like he’s heading into a trap, though there’s nothing in the room that would outwardly suggest so.

Just his mom and dad, and how they keep looking between him and each other, like they’re in on some sort of joke that TK’s the butt of. 

“What’s going on?” he asks, easing himself into an armchair. They share another glance - giggling, for god’s sake - and clasp hands.

“TK,” his dad starts. “Your mom and I… We’ve got some news.”

TK eyes them warily, his mind instantly flashing to the possibility that his dad’s cancer is back. He dismisses the thought almost immediately - they’re far too happy for it to be that - but he also can’t think of what else it could be. Maybe his mom is moving in permanently? Which… TK wouldn’t be opposed, but he’s not sure how much longer he can cope with their bickering, and he’s barely here half the time.

“Do you want to tell him?” his dad asks, but she shakes her head and waves her hand towards him.

“Go ahead.”

And however much TK had thought he’d grown used to his parents’ shit, he’s far from prepared for the next words that come out of his dad’s mouth.

“We’re - that is to say, your mom - well… We’re having a baby.”

They grin at him, waiting expectantly for…congratulations, TK guesses? A hysterical laugh bubbles up in his chest, and he’s barely able to push it down, clamping his jaw firmly shut until he feels like he’s in control again.

“You… You’re serious,” he says eventually.

“Well, it’s hardly the sort of thing you joke about,” his dad says, laughing a little. His mom swats at him, but they’re both still smiling, both still acting like this isn’t incredibly fucked up.

“How long have you known?”

“A while,” his mom admits. “We weren’t going to keep it, but then we thought about it and we realised that we both want a child. Another one.”

TK barely notices her hastily added-on amendment. He gets what she means - he’s not a child, and hasn’t been in many years. He’s more stuck on the fact that they’re choosing to bring another child into this pressure cooker of a household, and not seeing anything wrong with that.

Even when he’d been a kid, TK had felt like he was being pulled in every direction, constantly caught in the middle of their arguments. The feeling’s eased now he’s an adult, but only because he knows he has places to escape to when it all becomes too much. He hadn’t had that growing up, and this new kid won’t have it either. 

Maybe he’s being too unfair on them; maybe they can pull it together after all. But, having borne witness to their behaviour these past few months, TK kind of doubts it. Knowing them, they’ll have decided to keep the kid by way of an argument.

And TK knows it’s far from his decision to make, but he can’t help but question them. “Are you sure you’ve thought this through?” he asks. 

Their faces drop, smiles faltering as they look at each other, seemingly having a wordless conversation. His dad nods encouragingly, and his mom turns back to him, reaching across the gap between them to take TK’s hands in her own.

“Honey…” she sighs. “We know the risks, alright? Lord knows we’ve both done enough googling. But I’m healthy, and I know what I need to do to make this pregnancy as safe as possible, and we truly believe we can beat the odds. It’ll be fine, I promise.”

She smiles hesitantly, and TK just gapes, not quite understanding how she’s managed to miss the point this badly.

“That’s not what I… Wow.” He presses his lips together in a firm line, standing up abruptly and dropping his mom’s hands. “Okay.”

He shakes his head and turns to go, but he’s stopped when they also rise, effectively blocking his path.

“Where are you going?” his mom asks, frowning in confusion.

TK feels a twinge of guilt, but he pushes it away. “Carlos’s.”

“Now, hold on a minute there, son,” his dad says. “I thought you could stay here tonight, we could have a meal as a family for once. You’re barely here these days.”

“Wonder why,” he mutters, though clearly not quietly enough judging by the way his dad flinches. TK can’t bring himself to care. “I’m going,” he says, louder this time. “I’ll see you at work.”

He squeezes past them, and makes it to the door before he’s stopped again.

“I thought you’d be happy for us.”

TK freezes, hand on the doorknob. “I am,” he lies through gritted teeth, and he doesn’t need to look to see the disappointment written all over his dad’s face. “Congrats.”

He’s gone before they can get another word in, just barely refraining from slamming the door behind him. His skin itches, his whole body jittery and on edge, and TK briefly laments the fact that he’s in no way dressed for running. He has clothes inside that he could change into, but there’s no way he’s going back in there now. He’ll just have to stick it out until he can get to Carlos’s.

Getting into his car, TK has to resist the urge to hit the steering wheel. But he doesn’t trust his parents enough to think that they aren’t watching him from the window, so he simply starts the ignition, driving away without a backward glance.

*

Carlos is surprised when he walks in, pausing his meal with the fork halfway to his mouth.

“TK,” he says, frowning. “I thought you were staying with your parents tonight.”

“Me too.” TK scowls, tossing his keys into the bowl and making a beeline for the bedroom. He feels bad for ignoring Carlos like that, but he’s worried that if he stops to think, he’ll snap, and Carlos doesn’t deserve that.

Carlos must follow him up the stairs anyway, as when TK looks up from yanking his spare running clothes out of the drawers, he’s standing in the doorway, the picture of concern. He sighs, sitting back on his heels, taking a moment to collect himself.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I just… They asked me over because they had some news, and it sort of threw me. I needed to get out of there.”

Carlos nods in understanding. “Is it your dad? Was there a problem with the cancer, or something?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“That’s good, right?” Carlos is looking at him with those wide, worried eyes of his, and TK feels a little bit of his anger drain away at the sight.

“That part is, yeah,” he allows. “I’m not sure the same can be said for the rest.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

TK hesitates, then rises from the floor, shaking his head. “I will, later,” he promises, “but right now I just need to be alone.”

He quickly changes and grabs his headphones from the night stand, though he stops in his tracks when he catches sight of Carlos’s pained expression.

“Hey,” he says, crossing the room and cupping Carlos’s face in one hand. “I’m not shutting you out, I swear. I need air and some time to think, that’s all. Promise I won’t do anything stupid.”

He smiles and holds his pinky out, and Carlos huffs a brief laugh. He links their pinkies and meets TK’s eyes, searching his face. “I’m holding you to that, Strand.”

TK presses a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

*

He doesn’t know how long he runs for, but by the time he gets back he’s winded, and his thoughts are no less scrambled. The lights in the living room are off when TK walks in, but he can see a soft glow coming from upstairs that lets him know that Carlos is still awake. He’s sitting up in bed, reading, when TK manages to drag himself to the bedroom, having already showered and changed. He holds an arm out in invitation, and TK goes gratefully into the embrace, leaning his head on Carlos’s shoulder.

Carlos absent-mindedly traces circles on TK’s arm with his thumb, a silent comfort that TK relishes in.

“My mom’s pregnant,” he says eventually.

Carlos freezes. “Oh. That’s… Wow.”

TK chuckles humourlessly. “I know.” He sighs. “I feel like I shouldn’t be mad, but I can’t help it. I mean, I knew something was up, they’ve both been acting cagey for ages, but I just… I never thought it would be this.”

“I think you’ll be forgiven for not expecting it,” Carlos comments drily. 

TK hums, fiddling with the sheets. “It’s not just that, though. I’m pissed that they didn’t tell me, sure, but I’m less mad for me, and more for this kid. I know what it’s like to grow up with them, and you’ve seen how terrible the past few months have been. I can’t believe they’re seriously going to put another kid through it all.”

“Maybe they’ll work things out,” Carlos suggests, though even he sounds doubtful.

“I want to believe that. But…”

“But?”

“I don’t think they even noticed it,” he confesses, voice quiet. “I was so alone as a kid, but Mom had her firm and Dad had the firehouse, and I was just...there. I know they loved me, but that doesn’t mean they were great parents, and I don’t think they realise even half of what they did. They’re having this baby because they want the good times back, and they’re forgetting just how many bad times there were.”

Carlos squeezes his shoulders. “Shit, Ty-”

“You know it’s part of the reason I became a firefighter?” TK asks. He should probably feel guilty for interrupting, but it’s like some dam has broken inside of him and it’s all coming spilling out whether he wants it to or not. “I’d see my dad with his crew - with this family he’d built at the firehouse - and I just… I wanted in. I wanted my family back, but I couldn’t have that so I settled for inserting myself into his.

“It sort of worked, I guess. We were close. But he’s never been a father to me, exactly, not in the way I needed. I’m okay with it now, but I’m worried the same is going to happen all over again.”

Carlos waits, but TK’s done this time, gritting his teeth against the emotion welling up in him 

“Have you spoken to your dad about any of this?” Carlos asks.

TK scoffs. “I tried. Remember my identity crisis after I got shot? I went to him and told him, but he just turned it on me and started talking about 9/11 again. It’s like, I know how bad it was. I know his whole house was killed, and I know how badly that hurt him. But I was seven, and I lived through it too. It’s not the same, I get that, but I did. I think he forgets that sometimes.”

He groans, slumping down further into the bed - and, by extension, into Carlos. “I sound like a dick, don’t I?”

Carlos is silent for a long time, and when TK looks up at him, he’s worrying his bottom lip, brows creased in a frown. 

“I think…” he starts slowly, turning his head to meet TK’s eyes. “I think you’re being perfectly reasonable. Everything you just said… I can’t even imagine, Ty.”

TK stares at him, startled by how firm, how fervent Carlos’s voice is. There’s anger there, too, and it’s strangely comforting to know he’s not alone in his frustrations. Even so, TK feels the need to reassure him.

“Hey,” he murmurs, lightly touching Carlos’s arm. “You know I’m okay, right? I’m over all that.”

Carlos sends him a doubtful look.

“Mostly,” he amends. “Besides, I have you now, and the team. I’m not the one who needs to be worried about.”

“I’ll always worry about you,” Carlos says, but he sighs, relenting. “You should talk to your parents, though. They need to know how you’re feeling, especially if they’re going through with this.”

TK shrugs non-commitantly. “Yeah, maybe. Not like they’ll listen to me.”

Carlos sighs. “TK -”

“Can we not talk about this anymore?” TK interrupts, turning pleading eyes on his boyfriend. He’s tired of thinking about his parents, and he feels more than a little guilty for taking over their evening complaining about them, like he’s done far too many times before. He points to the book lying abandoned at Carlos’s side. “Tell me about that?”

Carlos sends him a look, emphatically letting TK know that he’s not going to let him push this away, but he does eventually pick up the book. “I don’t think it’s something you’ll like,” he warns.

“You like it,” TK says. “That’s enough for me.”

The brilliant smile Carlos sends him is almost enough to make him forget everything else that happened tonight. And when he starts talking, TK closes his eyes and lets Carlos’s beautiful voice wash over him, chasing any other thoughts from his head.

It’s peace, of a kind.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #lone star #tk strand #carlos reyes #owen strand #gwyneth morgan #tk x carlos #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #tuserjamie #tuserpaige #userjillian #userkimmy #reyeslonestartag #tuserjenny #yes this is just a 2.3k vent fic why do you ask

[vantaeskookies]

Yes, I'm standing up for my homeboy Teh and giving my opinion on IPYTM EP.2 things

Look, I know absolutely nothing about what makes a piece of media good but this episode KILLED me. The previous episode was fine, okay, a great start to the series, but it didn't stand out to me.

IPYTM ep2 just about hit me and dragged me through the mud, to put it in a way. I don't know if that's what makes a TV show great, but it definitely made it amazing for me.

I am terrible at words most of the time, so I'll try to put it as best as I can,

Teh is, for one, a Really Stupid Person. But get this. He's Just Like Me. Okay, maybe this is another case of me loving something because I can deeply relate to it, but COME ON. From my point of view, it just makes so much sense. I understand every single thing he's feeling, I swear. I know why he did what he did, why he said what he said. And yes, he treated people terribly and came out all self-centered and mean and it was, I'm not denying it. No matter how much he explains to Oh-Aew his insecurities, he still behaved like an asshole been there, done that. But it makes so much sense. It's another facet of the Teh we met in ITSAY, that arguably immature and at times selfish (I don't know if that's the word I'm looking for, really) teenager that held a grudge against his once best friend because he felt like he stole his thing, which was acting. That same guy who got increasingly stressed over his best friend/crush not loving him enough. Let's not forget that Teh did lose Oh-Aew once -even though it was his fault from the beginning- and his father even died. No wonder he's afraid of being left alone in his fight. Add to that the fact that his entire life has been about proving himself to others, after growing up as his brother's shadow and with his then rival's image in the back of his mind.

From what I can tell from this episode, it seems that he knows his fight is difficult and that his chances of failing are bigger than the other option, and he had Oh-Aew by his side, but now he doesn't anymore. So now his whole world is crumbling down. Will Oh-Aew leave him again? If Oh-Aew didn't fight as hard to follow his dream, will he fight for their relationship in the future? Will Teh be left alone once again, hating Oh-Aew the way he did back then? It's unfair! Now Khim seems to give up too! Everything's going badly!

Teh doesn't seem like the kind of person to doubt himself, but he definitely seems to panic whenever things don't go the way he planned them. He had it all already pictured, and now it's gone. If the one thing he thought would never change -his and Oh-Aew's acting careers, which was the beginning of EVERYTHING, looking back on it-, already changed, what are the odds that Oh-Aew won't stop loving him suddenly? What are the odds of him never living up to his own expectations, both in his career and life in general?

It's so fucked up... so human.

Don't get me wrong, I think that sooner or later Teh has to change his behavior otherwise he might really end up alone personal experience things. If he keeps making the same damn mistakes, I will punch a hole through my computer screen, as I was about to throughout the whole damn episode.

But now that my Teh Best Character rant is over (I AM aware of the fact that I'm just praising myself if I say we're the same, but shhh), let's just a tiny bit about the episode!

As I said, I have no idea what makes a good piece of media, but this episode was the biggest roller coaster of emotions I've felt in a while (see: ITSAY ep.3 and 4), and that, to me, makes it great. The acting was top-notch, seriously. The scenes of them arguing are not anything I was thriving to see -because conflict stresses me- but I was shocked by how heart-wrenching they were. And each time I cried a little, not gonna lie.

Now, CAN WE TALK about PP for a minute? And Oh-Aew? First of all, never in my life did I expect for them to touch on this subject of Oh-Aew being more 'feminine' as they said. I saw another post talking about it really well so I'm not about to elaborate on a subject that would only get me tangled in my own words, but I just wanna say that I felt so hard for Oh-Aew at that moment. I think it was mainly to show how he doesn't fit in the acting industry, but it's still a statement on how that same industry and, let's be honest, the rest of the world looks down on not traditionally masculine guys. And PP did a superb job in these scenes. 10/10 definitely cried my eyes out.

I already talked my shit on Teh so I just wanna say, there's a reason why Billkin was named best actor! He kills it every. single. time. Where's his oscar??? I didn't think he could get even better than in ITSAY but here we are.

Now on the actual episode, I loved it. The last scene is the most direct foreshadowing I've ever witnessed so I am scared but putting that aside, I think this might've become my second favorite episode of the whole series (ITSAY ep.3 is another level of keyboard smash).

I really don't know what's to come. I'm afraid. I don't know if I should trust Jai and Q or if I should quietly drag Teh and Oh the fuck away from them. Q is a sweetheart for all I know but I don't trust pretty boys with painted nails! And Jai has been sus since the beginning, not once did he say or do anything to make me like him, to be honest.

I just hope that whatever shit Teh and Oh-Aew go through in the next episode, it won't be Teh's fault because it would mean he lost that single braincell of his side comment I know that jealousy is toxic and we don't want that but I'd love to see jealous Oh and Teh again asdfgbxvbdfgzxcv. I mean I know Oh-Aew's perfect and all but he CAN make a mistake once in a while too, you know?

That's all. Head's now empty. I don't ever want to think about this episode and show for another week. I need my sanity.

#sorry if this was hard to read #english is hard #teh best boy everybody #idc idc #ipytm #i promised you the moon

[shih-coulda-had-it]

37. NanaHiko, please

37. “Because I love you goddammit!”

Consider this my sourdough starter for a Nanahiko Die Hard AU. If it ever comes into a fully-realized oneshot spectacular, well. Maybe for Christmas. Anyways, this is, believe or not, a break-up scene.

//

Fighting with Sorahiko is never pretty.

To clarify, Nana doesn’t mean physical fighting. They’ve honed that particular aspect of their partnership to near-perfection (always room for improvement), and when Nana has extricated herself from a fight, sometimes she has enough time to watch Sorahiko work his brutally efficient magic on loose ends.

That kind of fighting is pretty from a professional point of view.

Anyway, what Nana means is—having an argument with Sorahiko. It’s not the first time they’ve engaged in a war of cold shoulders and barbed words, digging up old insults and humiliating stories, resolved to leave reconciliation to the other party.

Nana has always thought it boded well that it never took a mortal injury to get either her or Sorahiko to apologize. 

She is, however, very close to inflicting a mortal injury.

Sorahiko also looks close to committing partner-cide. They are spending a break from patrol by cooling their heels on a rooftop no employee bothers to spend a cigarette break at, and for the past ten minutes, have been politely exchanging words like, “Please do this,” and, “Fuck doing that.”

A full month has passed since Nana digested the whole conspiracy theory about a supervillain controlling Japan’s underground. En’s transferral of One for All had been traumatic for all parties involved, even if Sorahiko didn’t have to witness the horror that was the shoulder socket gushing blood and the half-buried body. Why? Because the first time Nana tested out her new Quirk, she had broken her notoriously hardy partner’s arm.

… It’s been a scary month all around.

“I’m not,” her partner grits out, “going to just quit being a pro-hero.”

“I didn’t say you should ditch the license,” Nana says reasonably.

“You might as well have!”

She rolls her eyes. “Splitting up for a solo career would probably mean better pay for you,” she reiterates. “Better pay, more taiyaki. You’d be a treat by yourself, Gran Torino. Any high-profile agency would want you on the payroll.”

“The salary isn’t the point,” Sorahiko snaps. 

“And you shouldn’t conflate your position as a pro-hero with your position at the Eyrie! Don’t let the agency limit your ambitions!”

“What ambitions?”

“You know,” says Nana, gesturing aimlessly. She’s trapped herself with that useless encouragement. Sorahiko is so thoroughly unambitious, he would let a pet rock win an election to Prime Minister. “Whatever made you get into heroics.”

He stares at her.

“Get out there,” she adds. “Chase your dreams.”

“You’re being stupid,” he says.

“Don’t start.”

Sorahiko starts. His mouth twists into a snarl, eyebrows drawing together under the mask, frustration creeping into his posture. He is madder than she’s ever seen him, and Nana once witnessed Sorahiko yell bloody murder at his landlord. The landlord had been reduced to tears, and furthermore, had reduced the rent for the entire complex.

Nana does not intend to yield.

“First you inherit a transferable strength Quirk that knocks you out of commission for a week,” he says, “then you get all weird about tanking hits you know I can take, and now you’re advising I leave the Eyrie by myself? For my own good?”

“Yes,” she says, already feeling miserable.

“Are you on some kind of power trip?”

“No!”

His gloved hands curl into fists, mirroring Nana’s, or maybe she is mirroring him. Another side-effect of being friends for so long; she can’t imagine what kind of pro-hero she is without Gran Torino next to her. 

A pro-hero that won’t drag their best friend into the worst conspiracy theory to come true. 

“I won’t quit until you do,” Sorahiko swears. “Are we partners or not?”

“Partnerships dissolve.”

He flinches back for once. “You don’t mean that.”

“People sometimes grow in different ways. It doesn’t mean they’re abandoning their partner, it’s just… You don’t have any obligation to hold my hand for my entire career. If there’s a roadblock ahead, and you see it, you should be able to jump out of the car, right?” 

“Shimura. Shut up.”

“I really mean it,” Nana continues doggedly. “One for All attracts way more attention than we agreed we should aim for, so if we split paths now, you don’t have to suffer all the cameras tracking and recording your moveset. Did I say cameras? I meant henchmen of some evil bastard. You didn’t sign up for this.”

“Don’t tell me what I did or didn’t sign up for,” he hisses.

“Well, I have to guess,” she says, “considering I never saw your origin story, haha!”

His face goes a blotchy pink, starting with his ears. Sorahiko’s jaw visibly clenches. Nana, however, is one-hundred percent serious. Despite being friends with Sorahiko from primary school up till now (excusing the few years of junior high), Nana still has no idea what drives Sorahiko to be Gran Torino.

Reuniting in Class 1-A of U.A. High had felt a bit like fate. 

“You have to guess?” he grits out, sounding slightly incredulous.

“You’re a very private person. Ah, don’t tell me I’ve somehow forgot it.” Nana puts her hands at her hips, trying to drag this fight back into friendly banter. “Not for the applause. Not for the legacy, assuming the Commission ever gets their memorial site set up. Are you sure it wasn’t for the money?”

“Shimura.”

“C’mon,” she says coaxingly. “What’s the dream-goal, Gran Torino? Why heroics?”

“Shimura.”

“Don’t worry about harming my feelings! Oh! It’s for your namesake, huh? Ah, Sorahiko, you really gotta let that one go, I don’t think you’d have any fun driving around these streets. You’ll just scare all the pedestrians into throwing tomatoes at your precious baby—”

“Because I love you goddammit!” Sorahiko shouts, barking it loud enough to frighten some voyeuristic pigeons. 

“What,” Nana says. She has to process his words even though they ring in her ears. His confession is a curse. Typical Sorahiko, Nana thinks hysterically, except this is not typical at all. Torino Sorahiko, admitting to love? 

Torino Sorahiko, not being done yet, rails on. “Because you’re my best friend, and I like myself when I’m with you, so stop trying to cut me out of your life! If you—if you hate me, then just say it! Say I’m annoying! Clingy! Useless! Don’t just tell me to step out the front door and leave you behind!”

Oh, he’s properly mad now.

Thing is, Nana’s mad too.

“Don’t you use that against me,” she says, fury seeping in, because how dare he? Like confessing to loving her settles this argument, some deus ex-machina device that will defuse Nana’s very sincere attempt to prevent Sorahiko from being murdered. She can’t believe the nerve of her partner, trying to manipulate the part of her that’s a hopeless romantic. “Don’t lie.”

“Lie?” Sorahiko echoes, enraged. “You think—?”

“I think you would do a lot of things to win a fight,” Nana seethes.

“You’re impossible.”

She wants to punch his stupid face so badly, but Sorahiko’s hands are already scrabbling at his domino mask, ripping it off. After blinking several times to reorient his senses, he refocuses his glare at her.

“What part of that confession sounded fake?” he demands, crumpling the black silk-composite in one fist.

“The timing. The whole concept. Everything!”

“You don’t think I’m capable of it?”

“I didn’t say that,” Nana objects, but her immediate gut reaction had been to say, I’m not worthy of it. She has a name for Gran Torino’s behavior now—his loyalty, devotion, affection—he tied himself to her so long ago, and Nana never even knew she was holding a leash. How unfair to him, how stupid and shortsighted of her.

Sorahiko takes a step into Nana’s personal bubble. He persists. “Say you hate me.”

She can see where Sorahiko wants to take this.

“Do you hate me, Shimura?”

Nana bites her tongue from its reflexive denial; when she tries to lie, it sticks in her throat.

“Do you really want me to go?” Sorahiko asks, and without his mask, he looks vulnerable. Pale brown eyes catching the sunset, gleaming gold. How much of Sorahiko’s life has been deferring his dreams to follow hers? What has he given up that Nana’s never asked about? Does he have any commitments outside of heroics? 

“I think,” Nana finally forces out, “we need some time apart.”

One beat of silence. Two.

“You’re not joking.”

“No.”

Sorahiko breathes, a steady and barely audible sound, and Nana finds herself mirroring it. She crosses her arms and looks to the horizon. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Sorahiko slowly uncrumpling his mask, smoothing out wrinkles with his forefinger and thumb. Methodical for a nervous tic.

“It’s not that you’ve done something wrong.”

“Spare me the bullshit,” he says. The bitter tone sends a chill through Nana’s heart, but she steels herself. “How long?”

“Long as we need,” she deflects.

“What’s the goal here?”

Nana glances at Gran Torino, notes the grim set of his expression, and restrains herself from poking at the down-turned twist to his frown. Instead, she says, “You said you like who you are when you’re with me. I don’t think you’ve ever really been without me, so… Figure yourself out, Gran Torino.”

“And Sky High?”

“We’ll shelve the idea for a later time,” says Nana weakly, as though running an agency together hasn’t been their—her?—dream since high school.

He grunts in acknowledgment.

Together, they survey the cityscape. They will finish the day’s patrol. Gran Torino will, for the first time, clock out early and storm home.

And Nana will quietly file her two-week notice.

There’s an international pro-hero exchange program being organized with the United States, and Nana intends to join. The probation period is a year; if Nana can make it through that, then she can apply to be a mentor to aspiring pro-heroes, all the while cultivating One for All on the side.

(She doesn’t mean to forget the confession. But then again, who knows if that’s really what Sorahiko felt for her?)

#bnha #nanahiko #shimura nana #torino sorahiko #gran torino #shih.txt #asks #anon #diehard!au #and YES sorahiko is cast as holly #and nana will show up in a few years #wearing a cool leather jacket #to the HPSC's Holiday Party #toshinori will also be present but he will unfortunately be made to stay in the car

[oceangenasi]

D&P and Merther for the shipping ask game???

Yax I would die for you except you’d probably stop me from dying with your EMT wizardry and then where would we be

🖤 D/P 💙

1. What made you ship it? I have eyes? But seriously, I like to joke about how my ships are either softboys and their badass women or queerbait m/m angst.... and then there’s this shining exception. A canon m/m ship that gets a love story and a happy ending :’’’) I started watching the show very casually, knowing David was queer but not that D/P was endgame and then the next thing I knew I had ascended to another plane of existence

2. What are your favorite things about the ship? I am never not thinking about the Dynamic... it’s the complementary aspects of their personalities for me!

You’ve got David: flamboyantly queer and deeply dramatic, who’s had intense emotions his whole life that have scared people away but he’s also brave and unique and creative and wonderful. He’s everything that Patrick didn’t know he needed. He’s been hurt a lot of times and he almost doesn’t believe that he’s capable of being loved so wholly and completely. Enter Patrick.

Patrick is so straight-laced and repressed and invested in being well-liked that he had built up a whole seemingly perfect life that was making him deeply unhappy. I don’t think that even Patrick knew he was capable of loving David the way he does, because he hadn’t cast off his old life and gone on that emotional journey until he met David. His “you make me feel right” speech is my favorite bit of the entire show. Patrick found himself in finding David.

They balance each other: Patrick grounds David, providing him the unconditional love that David can flourish with, and David brings beauty and color into Patrick’s life.

I also adore how much casual intimacy they get on screen, all the kisses and shoulder touches. It’s incredibly healing to watch after so much queer angst and suffering, when we get representation at all.

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship? Yeah, Patrick’s not perfect. I get very pissy when people trash David for his actions surrounding the barbecue and/or the wedding and imply he was being unfair/selfish -- because even if he was, Patrick has a responsibility to communicate his concerns if he wants David to respond to them. Patrick has a tendency to avoid/repress his feelings and that can be incredibly damaging in a relationship if not addressed. David can’t read Patrick’s mind, nor should he be expected to. He doesn’t need to magically intuit Patrick’s distress from Patrick’s micro-expressions or whatever the fuck -- Patrick needs to step up and tell David when he doesn’t like David’s behavior. Yes, I’m projecting like hell when it comes to this but it is something that made me furious during season 6 and the discourse surrounding it.

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

💙 Merthur ❤

1. What made you ship it? I watched the first episode and was like “oh wow this show is even gayer than I’d heard it was.” No but seriously... fellas, is it gay to be literally and canonically someone’s other half? Fellas, is it gay to stare intensely into each other’s eyes at every given opportunity? Fellas, it is gay to dedicate your entire life to serving and protecting someone? Fellas, is it--

2. What are your favorite things about the ship? ah jeez where do I even start... Arthur is Merlin’s whole world. Merlin’s magic is “only for Arthur” and Merlin’s magic is... everything he is. I literally don’t know how you could read that as Merlin not being in love with Arthur. I genuinely and honestly think this interpretation is backed up by commentary by the actors and writers: Merlin loves Arthur, and that’s not even a point of debate. I adore Merlin as a character (son boy baby sweetheart sunshine child) and his unwavering faith in Arthur, his dedication, his tenderness, the years spent protecting someone who didn’t even know how much Merlin had done for him.... it gets me good.

And then there’s what Merlin is to Arthur! Setting aside the stuff Arthur doesn’t know about, which I will talk about in a moment, Merlin is possibly the only person in Arthur’s life who has always, always treated him as a person first and a prince second. Merlin’s unwavering faith and freely given friendship are because he sees the best in Arthur, not because of Arthur’s hereditary right to the throne. Merlin is Arthur’s first and truest friend -- I know the knights and Gwen care for him, but there is a component of social discrepancy to their relationship that Merlin simply has ignored. Merlin’s disrespect is because he fundamentally views Arthur as his equal, which is a gift Arthur didn’t even know he needed. Arthur was touch-starved, emotionally repressed, and incredibly lonely before Merlin came into his life. (Yes, the similarities between my two OTPs are well-known to me.) Just because Arthur struggles to express his emotions (thanks, Uther) and doesn’t have the same plot opportunities as Merlin to show how much he’d sacrifice for Merlin, doesn’t mean he doesn’t love Merlin as deeply as Merlin does him. This is why I like writing Arthur POV so much -- I like describing how fundamental and immutable a concept Merlin is to him. He takes Merlin for granted, yes, because there is literally nobody else that he is so vulnerable around or trusts so completely. This is why the magic reveal was so temporarily devastating to Arthur -- it broke something he’d built his entire life around. Or at least, that’s what he thought.

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

Canon is a trash fire and I hate a lot of things about season 5, because it had some stellar opportunities that got rushed and squished by the way they timed the plot.... but I actually really, really like the finale. I think that considering what they’d done with the plot up to that point, it was brilliantly executed and gorgeously acted. There wasn’t enough time to do everything I would have liked with the magic reveal*, but in the last episode they hit every one of my buttons at least once. Arthur witnessing a competent Merlin, Arthur experiencing realistic grief and anger but being able to see how deeply Merlin loves him... Setting aside the plotholes and the timing, the people who made the show realized what was critically important in the finale, and it was digging deep into the relationship between Merlin and Arthur. This is why it completely and totally wrecks me, incidentally, and why I can’t watch the last part of the episode because it actually unhinges me too much. I’m not joking, I went into some kind of grief spiral the first time I saw it that took me a literal week to recover from. I care about things too much and feel my feelings too intensely, but we been knew.

Oh, and an even spicier opinion on later seasons/the finale: I don’t think that Morgana “isn’t really evil” or that her fall was “unnecessary.” I think that Morgana was indeed capable of being a fiercely good and loving person, but I also think that people with the kind of anger she carries can be dragged into some very dark places. I don’t think it was unrealistic, I think it was painful to watch, and there’s a difference. She didn’t get the support she needed -- she was gaslighted, manipulated, and tortured -- and I think that the same person who could be good in another situation is absolutely capable of becoming monstrous, considering the hand she was dealt. I have very similar opinions on her as I do on Anakin Skywalker, which is to say: her evil was both believable and tragic. She was a product of her circumstances, but her actions are not excusable, and she is responsible for how she responded to her trauma.

*I can and will read every damn magic reveal on ao3 because it’s really important to me that Arthur understand what Merlin has done for him. Truly, truly conceptualizes how crucial Merlin has been in helping him build his kingdom. That’s the one thing that I wanted to see so badly that never happened in canon.

#tangled pixel harpsichord #answered #oh god oh jesus I've written a pair of essays here #if anyone actually reads this entire thing I will propose marriage to you on the spot #bbc merlin #sc #schitt's creek #merthur #david/patrick

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CXXXI (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: Right now Val’s fic and mine are screaming ‘Fuck Harry Potter!’ But in entirely different contexts and I love it jsdjsdj -Danny P.S. the Twins’ leaving always makes me cry when I read that.

Words: 4,428

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘Fine Line’ -by Harry Styles

Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Twins' Farewell.

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

"I need a moment."

"You've been quiet for five minutes."

"Well, I found out my mother used to be a bully," She snapped. "I kind of have a lot to think about!"

Their parents had treated Snape the same way Dudley used to treat her and Harry when they were younger. Not only that, but Harry's mother appeared to hate James with a burning passion. As if that weren't enough, Emily had actively taken part in attacking Snape and threatened Lily with hexing her if she interfered. Harry was holding back information though, and she needed to know what it was.

"What is it?"

"Hmm?" Harry said nervously.

"You have that look on your face. You haven't finished the story.”

"I have."

"Don't lie to me."

She took advantage of his inexperience and forced the memory out.

Mel looked at the fifteen-year-old version of her mother and saw herself reflected on her. She had her eyes, hair (exactly as long as her mother's when she was her age, and it fell in the same elegant fashion). She also had her lovesick gaze, which caused her to realize Emily was head over heels for none other than James Potter.

It was uncomfortable to watch, not only because Matt and Sirius would glance from time to time with a grumpy expression, but also because they were so similar to their parents that it was like looking at a very odd mirror. James was utterly oblivious, he would look at Emily like she was an adorable toddler. 

Emily, on the other side, was a lost cause. James would constantly look back at the group of girls that were hanging out by the lake, where Lily Evans was chatting happily. His eyes would light up the same way Harry's used to. 

Then she had to witness the look of pleased evilness when they attacked Snape, the way Emily pointed her wand at Lily, ready to attack...

She pulled back abruptly.

"I told you not to do it!" Harry groaned, closing his eyes tightly and pressing his palm on his temple.

"I can't believe she never told me!" Mel exclaimed.

"What were you expecting? 'Hey, you know that boy you're friends with? I used to have a crush on his dad!"

"I don't know!" Mel blushed. "I... Sirius told me my mum had the longest crush on this boy before dating my dad... I never thought it'd be James!"

"I never thought my dad was an arrogant twat," Harry said miserably. "I can't believe Snape was telling the truth..."

"What if..." Mel pushed her hair back, and she grimaced at the thought of doing it in the exact same way her mother used to. "What if Snape tricked you into believing he's telling the truth?"

"How?" 

"Well... we can't trust our brains, let alone someone else's! I mean, we treat Malfoy rather badly but we're not bad people, are we? If you were to look at us through his eyes we would look like monsters..."

Harry considered the idea, then shook his head miserably. 

"Snape didn't want me to look at the memory, he'd hidden the Pensieve and I was the one who snooped around."

Mel thought back on all those years uncle Lupin never talked about his relation to his mother, how they said she was too young... They had been right, but Mel was old enough now.

"I think," Mel said, standing up and indicating Harry to do the same. "We deserve an explanation."

"But why haven't you got Occlumency lessons anymore?" 

"I've told you, Snape reckons I can carry on by myself now I've got the basics... He says that if I need help, I can ask Mel," Harry shrugged, avoiding looking up from his parchment.

"Is it true?" Hermione raised her brows in polite surprise.

"Yeah," Mel lied. "We got this under control."

"So you've stopped having funny dreams, Harry?"

"Pretty much," He replied, his face almost completely hidden.

"Well, I don't think Snape should stop until you're absolutely sure you can control them!" Hermione frowned. "Harry, I think you should go back to him and ask —"

"No. Just drop it, Hermione, okay?"

"Are you done with the schedules, 'Mione?" Mel asked, trying to change the subject.

"Why are you making studying schedules, exams are ages away," Ron yawned.

"Exams are only six weeks away, Ron," Hermione sentenced.

"They're what, now?" He straightened up on his chair.

"How can that come as a shock?" 

"I dunno..." said Ron, "there's been a lot going on..."

"Well, there you are," Hermione handed three identical schedules to Harry, Ron and Mel, "if you follow that you should do fine."

"You've given me an evening off every week!" 

"That's for Quidditch practice," said Hermione. 

"Yay," Mel said without excitement. Next game she was playing seeker against none other than Cho Chang, so she was starting to feel nervous.

"What's the point?" Ron pouted. "We've got about as much chance of winning the Quidditch Cup this year as Dad's got of becoming Minister of Magic..."

"All you need to do is stop the Quaffle from entering the bloody goal posts, how hard can that be?" Mel huffed. "I have to find the smallest little thing against a well-trained seeker!"

"You're well-trained," Ron argued. 

"I'm not even close to being at her level—"

"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione interrupted.

"What?" Harry gave a start. "Nothing..."

He picked up his Defensive Magical Theory book and Grey jumped onto his lap, Harry barely acknowledged him. 

"I saw Cho earlier," Hermione started tentatively, "and she looked really miserable too... Have you two had a row again?"

"Wha — oh yeah, we have," Harry nodded.

"What about?"

"That sneak friend of hers, Marietta," He said.

"Yeah, well, I don't blame you!" said Ron. "If it hadn't been for her..."

The boy went off for several minutes about what an awful girl Marietta was, looking back on it, it was a bit unfair not to warn her about the risks...

Marietta was scared for her family, it was obvious she'd try to do the best for them. People are allowed to change their minds! 

Mel was hoping her parents had done the same, otherwise she would have to live with the fact that they were... not the best of people.

‘CAREER ADVICE

All fifth years will be required to attend a short meeting with their Head of House during the first week of the Summer term, in which they will be given the opportunity to discuss their future careers. Times of individual appointments are listed below...’

The four of them were going through a bunch of pamphlets of different wizarding careers, trying to decide what thing suited them better. Mel was quietly reading the pamphlet on Magizoology when Fred and George sat down between her and Harry.

"Ginny's had a word with us about you," said Fred, putting his legs on the table and kicking pamphlets in the process. "She says you need to talk to Sirius?"

"What?" Hermione spat.

"Yeah..." said Harry, "yeah, I thought I'd like —"

"Don't be so ridiculous," said Hermione. "With Umbridge groping around in the fires and frisking all the owls?" 

"Well, we think we can find a way around that," said George. "It's a simple matter of causing a diversion. Now, you might have noticed that we have been rather quiet on the mayhem front during the Easter holidays?"

"What was the point, we asked ourselves, of disrupting leisure time?" continued Fred. "No point at all, we answered ourselves. And of course, we'd have messed up people's studying too, which would be the very last thing we'd want to do."

Hermione looked at him as if she could not believe him to be so thoughtful. 

"But it's business as usual from tomorrow," Fred continued, putting an arm around Mel casually. "And if we're going to be causing a bit of uproar, why not do it so that Harry and the lady can have their chat with Sirius?"

"I never said I wanted to talk with Sirius," Mel raised a brow, giving her wand a light flicker and making the pamphlets go back to the table neatly.

"But you do though," George replied. "You wouldn't miss the opportunity to check on your mum, would you?"

Mel pondered. "I guess not..."

"Yes, but still," said Hermione, "even if you do cause a diversion, how are Harry and Mel supposed to talk to him?"

"Umbridge's office," Harry replied matter of factly.

"Erick said that's the only floo line that isn't being watched," Mel nodded.

"Are — you — insane?" Hermione asked angrily.

"Yeah, people keep telling me that," She smiled.

"And how are you going to get in there in the first place?"

"Sirius's knife," Harry said.

"Excuse me?"

"Christmas before last Sirius gave me a knife that'll open any lock. So even if she's bewitched the door so Alohomora won't work, which I bet she has —"

"What do you think about this?" Hermione hissed at Ron.

"I dunno," Ron blushed. "If Harry wants to do it, it's up to him, isn't it?"

"Spoken like a true friend and Weasley," said Fred. "Right, then. We're thinking of doing it tomorrow, just after lessons, because it should cause maximum impact if everybody's in the corridors — We'll set it off in the east wing somewhere, draw her right away from her own office — I reckon we should be able to guarantee you, what, twenty minutes?"

"Easy," George nodded.

"What sort of diversion is it?" Ron frowned.

"You'll see, little bro," said Fred, getting up at the same time as his twin. "At least, you will if you trot along to Gregory the Smarmy's corridor round about five o'clock tomorrow." 

"Okay then," Mel sighed. "We'll do it."

"Hey," Harry whispered once everyone was back in their business. "Don't you get uncomfortable with the way Fred treats you?"

"Huh?" She blushed. "Oh! I don't even notice, you know? Yeah, no big deal..."

She hid her face behind the pamphlet, fearful that Harry would insist on asking questions.

"I'm sorry," McGonagall blinked. "Could you repeat that?"

"I'd like to pursue the careers of Auror, Magizoologist," She smiled, "and Unspeakable."

Umbridge (who had been supervising the interviews that day) let out the faintest little chuckled, but they ignored it.

"Miss Dumbledore, are you aware of the work—"

"Yes. I require a minimum of five N.E.W.T.s and nothing under 'Exceeds Expectations' for the Auror position. They ask for a character and aptitude test as well. I'm aware that they haven't taken any new blood for the last three years, but fortunately, that's the same time I have to finish my studies, so maybe by then, they'll have a spot — As for my character and aptitude test, well, I'll work on that. Moving onto Magizoology: I need to pass Care of magical creatures, Defense against the dark arts, Potions, Herbology and Charms. My weak spot is Herbology, but I'm sure I can catch up. As for the Unspeakable position, well, it's all of the above."

She knew it was ambitious, but Dumbledore had told her she could achieve it with hard work and the proper schedule, and she wanted to believe he was right.

"For two of those you'll need to have a respect for authority," McGonagall stared at her. "Something which I've noticed doesn't come easily for you."

"It's not that I don't respect authority," Mel replied. "I respect you and the other teachers, I respect most of the Aurors I've met, I respect my mother... I just have zero patience with idiots."

"You'll have to accept that some people will know better than you, even if you find them idiotic."

"Well, I respect Snape don't I? I have a solid 'Outstanding' in his class."

She might have been wrong, but she saw the faintest hint of a smile on the woman's face.

"Very well, Miss Dumbledore," She drew out a parchment from Mel's folder and started to write down subjects. "I won't deny it'll be a long time before you get everything you want, but I've seen your abilities and I trust you'll get there—"

"Excuse me," Umbridge spoke. "It's blatantly clear that a Dumbledore, one that's proven to be mentally unstable, has no place in the Ministry."

"Good thing the Unspeakables aren't obliged to respond to the Minister, then," McGonagall replied with disinterest.

"What?" asked Mel and Umbridge.

"Miss Dumbledore, I thought you'd done your research," McGonagall then did show a polite smile. "The Department of Mysteries is a closed ward, they don't talk about their work outside office hours and most certainly they don't talk about it with people who do not belong in their area."

"No one is above the Minister," Umbridge replied with outrage.

"You're quite right about that," McGonagall finished whatever she was writing and folded it. "The Unspeakables work in the basement. You're free to go, Miss Dumbledore."

Mel took the parchment McGonagall was offering to her, but the professor held onto it for a moment.

"Best of lucks," She said, gazing up at Mel through her glasses.

As she slowly made her way to Divination, Fred ran into her, looking more energized than ever.

"All right, Lady?" He smiled.

"Yeah," She said brightly. "McGonagall just approved my future careers, she says I have a good chance to do them all!"

"Nice! Are you ready for what's coming?"

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" She asked. 

Fred had told her this was it for him and George, they wouldn't stay to get detention or being officially expelled. They were planning to run away, and Mel was dead worried.

"I'm brilliant," He smiled. "Everything's okay. Especially between us — I promised, didn't I? I'm keeping my word, and I promise to write as soon as I'm safe —"

"No!" Mel said. "Umbridge goes through our mail..."

"Don't worry, just leave it to us."

He started to walk away and Mel did too.

"Mel?" The boy called right before she left the hall, the girl stopped and turned to look at him. "Don't waste your chances."

Harry and Mel made their way to Umbridge's office as soon as they heard explosions at the far end of the school. They crouched in front of the fireplace and threw floo powder in the centre, the flames surrounded their heads.

"Number twelve, Grimmauld Place!" Harry said out loud. 

She closed her eyes until the feeling of being pulled forward came to a stop.

"Sirius?" Harry asked.

However, when Mel opened her eyes she saw her uncle.

"Mel! Harry! What are you — what's happened, is everything all right?"

"Yeah, I just wondered — I mean, I just fancied a — a chat with Sirius."

"I just want to know how my mum's doing," Mel replied clumsily.

"I'll call them," said Lupin. "He went upstairs to look for Kreacher, he seems to be hiding in the attic again. Emily's having a nap, she takes lots of those lately..."

"Is this really a good idea?" Mel asked the boy next to her.

"We're already here..."

Lupin returned with a short-haired Sirius (apparently he'd given in to Emily's desires) and Mel's mum, who was now six months into her pregnancy.

"What is it?" Sirius and Remus knelt, leaving Emily on a chair facing them so she could look at the kids. "Are you all right? Do you need help?"

"No, it's nothing like that... I just wanted to talk... about my dad..." Harry started. "About something I saw in one of Snape's memories."

Lupin and Sirius exchanged a look of surprise, Emily's frown deepened. When Harry finished his story, Lupin was the first to speak.

"I wouldn't like you to judge your parents on what you saw there. They were only fifteen —"

"We're fifteen!" 

"Look, Harry," said Sirius, "James and Snape hated each other from the moment they set eyes on each other, it was just one of those things, you can understand that, can't you? I think James was everything Snape wanted to be — he was popular, he was good at Quidditch, good at pretty much everything. And Snape was just this little oddball who was up to his eyes in the Dark Arts and James — whatever else he may have appeared to you, Harry — always hated the Dark Arts."

"Yeah, but he just attacked Snape for no good reason, just because — well, just because you said you were bored." 

"And Mum helped him," Mel said, pouting. "You threatened to hurt Lily if she tried to help Snape!"

"I'm not proud of it," said Sirius.

"Neither am I," Emily stated. "As you've heard countless times before, I want you to grow having better morals than the ones I had when I was your age. I can't erase what I did, but I've learned to live with it."

"What you've got to understand is that your fathers and Sirius were the best in the school at whatever they did — everyone thought they were the height of cool — if they sometimes got a bit carried away —"

"If we were sometimes arrogant little berks, you mean," said Sirius. "Matthew was the only one who knew how to keep his feet on the ground. He was a flirt, yes, but he was never a total prat."

"He kept messing up his hair," Harry said quietly, referring to James.

"I'd forgotten he used to do that," said Sirius, laughing.

"Was he playing with the Snitch?" asked Remus.

"Yeah," said Harry. 

Mel felt tempted to mention her mother's crush; but what was the point, really? It'd been years since that, and in the end, Emily had stopped liking him, it was long over. Bringing that up would only make things awkward, and Mel knew there was no use in reliving things of the past.

"Well..." Harry started, "I thought he was a bit of an idiot." 

"So that's where you got it from, then?" Mel teased.

"Of course he was a bit of an idiot!" said Sirius. "We were all idiots! Well — Ruddy and Moony not so much..."

"Did I ever tell you to lay off Snape? Did I ever have the guts to tell you I thought you were out of order?" Lupin grimaced.

"Yeah, well, you made us feel ashamed of ourselves sometimes... That was something..."

"Matthew wasn't afraid to be brutally honest, though. He would say the truth no matter what," Emily tilted her head. "Perhaps that's what made me liked him. I had an awful temper and he would always stop me from doing stupid things."

"That explains your temper," The boy whispered to Mel teasingly as well. "Oh! And... he kept looking over at the girls by the lake, hoping they were watching him!"

"Oh, well, he always made a fool of himself whenever Lily was around," said Sirius. "He couldn't stop himself showing off whenever he got near her."

"How come she married him? She hated him!"

"Nah, she didn't," Sirius smirked.

"She started going out with him in seventh year," Lupin explained. 

"Once James had deflated his head a bit," said Sirius.

"And stopped hexing people just for the fun of it," said Lupin. 

"Even Snape?" 

"Well, Snape was a special case. I mean, he never lost an opportunity to curse James, so you couldn't really expect James to take that lying down, could you?"

"And my mum was okay with that?"

"She didn't know too much about it, to tell you the truth. I mean, James didn't take Snape on dates with her and jinx him in front of her, did he?"

"I was already friends with Lily by the end of our fifth year," Emily said, "actually, right after that day when we finished our O.W.L.'s we had a talk... yeah, I reckon that's when we decided to call a truce. I made sure she never got anywhere near Snape after that day, for her own sake, really. Snape was always awful to her."

"Look," Sirius said, "your father was the best friend I ever had, and he was a good person. A lot of people are idiots at the age of fifteen. He grew out of it. So did Emily, but they never did anything that could be considered a crime."

"Yeah, okay... I just never thought I'd feel sorry for Snape."

"Now you mention it," said Lupin, "how did Snape react when he found you'd seen all this?"

"He told me he'd never teach me Occlumency again," Harry shrugged, "like that's a big disappoint — Ouch!"

Mel had pinched his arm to stop him from talking, but it was too late.

"He WHAT?" Sirius yelled.

"Are you serious, Harry?" said Lupin. "He's stopped giving you lessons?" 

"Yeah— But it's okay, I don't care, it's a bit of a relief to tell you the truth, and Mel said she can teach —" 

"I'm coming up there to have a word with Snape!" said Sirius, trying to step into the fire but stopping when Lupin grabbed his arm.

"If anyone's going to tell Snape it will be me!" Lupin said firmly. "Emily needs you here. But Harry, first of all, you're to go back to Snape and tell him that on no account is he to stop giving you lessons — when Dumbledore hears —" 

"I can't tell him that, he'd kill me! You didn't see him when we got out of the Pensieve —"

"Harry, there is nothing so important as you learning Occlumency! Do you understand me? Nothing!" 

"It's true, kid," Emily said, a look of sympathy on her face. "We need you safe."

"Okay, okay," Harry responded. "I'll... I'll try and say something to him... But it won't be..."

Mel raised a hand to quiet him down, they both heard footsteps.

"Is that Kreacher coming downstairs?"

"No," said Sirius, looking over his shoulder. "It must be somebody your end..."

"We'd better go!" 

"Thank you for the talk!" Mel said quickly. "See you!"

They both pulled back from the flames, falling on their butts.

"Quickly, quickly!" Filch wheezed outside the room. "Ah, she's left it open..."

Harry pulled her close abruptly and Mel put the cloak above their heads just in time. Filch rushed over to the desk without paying attention to his surroundings.

"Approval for Whipping... Approval for Whipping... I can do it at last... They've had it coming to them for years..." He ran out holding a piece of parchment.

Harry and Mel left the room in a hurry, one floor down they took off the cloak and followed the noises. They ran to the marble staircase and found the entire school there.

It was just like the night when Trelawney had been sacked. Students were standing all around the walls in a great ring (some of them, Harry noticed, covered in a substance that looked very like Stinksap); teachers and ghosts were also in the crowd. 

Prominent among the onlookers were members of the Inquisitorial Squad, who were all looking exceptionally pleased with themselves, and Peeves, who was bobbing overhead, gazed down upon Fred and George, who stood in the middle of the floor with the unmistakable look of two people who had just been cornered.

"No..." Mel tried to enter the crowd but someone held her arm before she could get in.

"Wouldn't do that if I were you," Erick whispered. "Let them handle it. They're about to leave anyway."

"How do you know?" Mel asked in surprise.

"I helped them buy half of the things they needed for this. Umbridge doesn't check my mail."

"So!" The woman exclaimed. "So... you think it amusing to turn a school corridor into a swamp, do you?"

"Pretty amusing, yeah," said Fred unbothered.

"I've got the form, Headmistress," Filch exclaimed in joy. "I've got the form and I've got the whips waiting... Oh, let me do it now..."

"Very good, Argus. You two are about to learn what happens to wrongdoers in my school."

"You know what? I don't think we are. George," He turned to his twin. "I think we've outgrown full-time education." 

"Yeah, I've been feeling that way myself," The boy responded. 

"Time to test our talents in the real world, d'you reckon?"

"Definitely."

"Accio Brooms!" They yelled in unison.

Harry heard a loud crash somewhere in the distance. Looking to his left he ducked just in time — Fred and George's broomsticks, one still trailing the heavy chain and iron peg with which Umbridge had fastened them to the wall, were hurtling along the corridor toward their owners. They turned left, streaked down the stairs, and stopped sharply in front of the twins, the chain clattering loudly on the flagged stone floor.

"We won't be seeing you," Fred told Professor Umbridge, swinging his leg over his broomstick.

"Yeah, don't bother to keep in touch," said George, mounting his own.

Fred looked around at the assembled students, and at the silent, watchful crowd.

"If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three, Diagon Alley — Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes," he said in a loud voice. "Our new premises!"

"Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swear they're going to use our products to get rid of this old bat," added George, pointing at Professor Umbridge.

"STOP THEM!" shrieked Umbridge, but it was too late. As the Inquisitorial Squad closed in, Fred and George kicked off from the floor, shooting fifteen feet into the air, the iron peg swinging dangerously below. Fred looked across the hall at the poltergeist bobbing on his level above the crowd.

"Give her hell from us, Peeves."

And Peeves, whom Harry had never seen take an order from a student before, swept his belled hat from his head and sprang to a salute as Fred and George wheeled about to tumultuous applause from the students below and sped out of the open front doors into the glorious sunset. 

Mel clapped along with her classmates, she'd promised not to cry over silly boys, but this was a different kind of crying. No more afternoons with Fred and George around to make her laugh, to tease her about her height or her temper. It hurt, but she also felt proud to call them friends.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked. 

"I don't know."

"You'll be okay," He assured her. "I'm sorry Fred and you broke up, though."

"You and Fred broke up?" Erick asked in a strange voice.

"Have you been living under a rock?" Harry grinned.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world​ @just-here-to-escape-from-reality​ @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #WITT fic

[oliverlovesthea]

TRAINING: OLIVER + THEA

Thea cringed as her head impacted the navy-blue mat, her vision spun for a few seconds before, but it was her pride that stung most acutely. They’d been ‘training’ for weeks now and still, she always ended up on her back… and not in the fun way. Just once she wanted to be the one standing proud over Oliver on the mat. As it was, he was standing above her, holding out a proffered hand to help her up.

Reaching up to take the offered hand, Thea folded her thumb over his as if she was going to take advantage of the aid to stand. When he leaned in to leverage her up, she kicked at the back of his right calf. He fell into the kick, landing on his right knee between her calves. Thinking on her feet, Thea lifted her legs, locking her calves around his sides, and using her weight to roll them over so he was the one on the mat. Popping up on her feet instantly, Thea scrambled backwards a few steps, grabbing of the wooden staffs they’d dropped earlier.  Seeing Oliver returning to his feet out of the corner of her eye, Thea held the staff like a spear.

When he failed to advance on her again, the young woman lowered the staff slightly, “What’s the matter, Ollie, scared?” She teased, using her wit to distract herself from the totally unfair sight before her. Even after weeks of training, and literal hours spent trying to pretend that watching him work out as they basically hid away in his lair didn’t turn her on, Thea still took every chance she could to surreptitiously check him out. How could she resist? He was all sweaty and gorgeous…and she was losing focus again, damn it!

Something behind them in the computer setup dinged just then and the young woman was grateful for a distraction that she didn’t have to create for herself.

“Do you think its him?” Thea asked, dropping the staff to the mat and making her way over to the computer screens. Shaking the lone mouse to turn off the screensaver, her eyes roamed across the various screens from left to right. Paul, Malcolm’s computer guy, had a variety of windows arranged in a specific manner (not that Thea knew what the organizational system was,) but Thea looked for anything that might require attention.

***

Oliver was sure it was him, and yet he got unnerved when he realized there wasn’t nothing he could use in the CTV records.  The man moved like him, it was built like him, and wore his face. He could see a glimpse of him every time the other man decided he didn’t care about cameras that much. It was impossible to miss i. It wasn’t just a similarity. They were one and the same and Oliver couldn’t shake the feeling that was the key to the whole mistery.  The only problem was that Oliver couldn’t understand what the mistery itself was. Why did someone with his face approached Thea? Could Malcom be right? He knew he was having more and more troubles keeping his feelings a secret on a daily basis.  When any attempt to find out where this man came from, where he would go after showing his hood in the streets was once again futile, Oliver resolved to train more. 

It was the only thing he could do to keep his mind from the turmoil of thoughts and emotions he was having lately.  Training with Thea was the best and the worst at the same time. He loved to be able to teach her, to share this part of him with her beloved sister, and yet it was a torture, to have her so close and try to put a leash on himself. 

He also knew the time to tell Thea the truth was approaching. Whoever this man was and whatever his goal was Oliver knew he couldn’t let things unsolved between them. If the worst would happen, Oliver needed to know knowing he told Thea the truth, no matter how badly she could react.  He was terrified to lose Thea because of his sins, but Oliver knew she deserved the truth, no matter how twisted and frowned upon by society said truth was.  She was getting better every day. Oliver already knew she could be a great fighter, Malcom wouldn’t have lost his time training her if she wasn’t, he would have paid more men to protect her, but she was fire and grace, she was everything Nissa would pay to be.  The long years of ballet and dance classes she had endured when she was a child gave her grace and speed. While she fought, she danced. She was elegant and lethal, but she doubted herself too much. That was why Oliver didn’t go easy on her, not a single time.  Day after day she was able to endure a bit more, to resist a bit longer, to follow Oliver’s moves a bit better.  “You are getting good at this, Speedy.” He would tell her as often as possible, in hope that she would start to believe him.  Oliver’s strength laid in his endurance and physical force. His aim was close to perfect and he could hold his ground against many opponents in hand to hand fight.  Thea was speed and cunning all wrapped in a beautiful package Oliver would love to unwrap.  Now Oliver found himself in a terrible situation. He was towering over Thea, she was pinned under his body, on the mattress, she never looked more beautiful to him.  Her hair like a halo around her head, face flustered and her chest, God her chest, the labored breath coming from her made her chest jump in the most distracting way.  Fuck. He knew he should tell her something. Perhaps reminding her how when facing a stronger opponent she should never allow them to take her to the ground. There stronger fighter always had the upper hand, but the words were stuck in his mouth.  He made the mistake to look down and he lost it. Oliver wasn’t proud of how quickly his control snapped. One look at her parted lips and he was gone. Her scent was overpowering and Oliver felt drugged. Everything in Thea called for him and he did the unthinkable. He claimed her mouth in a devouring kiss. If he burned in hell for this, well, it was worth it.  

[greasygyeom]

Title: Blame it on Me [Part II: Where Do We Go From Here?]

By: GreasyGyeom

Summary: what is someone supposed to do when they have to choose between the love of their life and the career of their dreams.

Word Count: 9.2k

Yugyeom x Reader / Angst, smut (kinda)..more angst. (i use noona but just pretend it’s y/n)

Warnings: Mature content please read only if 18+

Author’s Note: i am back after two weeks this is a character development guys. hope you like part II !! if you do leave an ask or write in your tags. i love hearing from you guys! tell me if it made you feel something. if there’s spelling errors, let me know hahaha. love you guys and thank you for reading.

Read Part I here

Your night burnt by slowly, filled with explanations and fake acceptances of congratulations that everyone showered you with; that you had no interest in. The only reason you stayed awake was because you were hoping Yugyeom would actually come back. Little did you know he’d been so drunk BamBam had to let him pass out on the couch and keep a bucket right next to him; because if drinking had taught him anything, the amount Yugyeom had, he was bound to throw up. 

You, poetically so, had also passed out on the couch. It was hard to believe that in the afternoon you were in a relationship, getting fucked out of your mind and by night you were single, bawling in your living room.

Still, he had to come back at some point, it was his house after all. How was he going to go to work without his clothes? BamBam for sure wasn’t going to let him stretch out his T-shirts.

Hanging onto that hope, you prepared breakfast in the morning, which unfortunately sat out cold until noon, while you face timed your best friend and let out all your pent up emotions.

She advised you to not hang onto the hope of him wanting to be with you for a few days extra. It wasn’t fair to him, because everything said and done, you were leaving. If there was a way around it, you would have done everything within your control to get that promotion without the transfer. Unfortunately the path you were going to take had been set in stone by your company. There was no space for any alterations left.

You didn’t want this to happen but really, what else were you expecting. This was never going to have a happy ending from the start.

Last week you’d wanted him to act like a douchebag so you could be bitter and cop out of being hurt over having to break up with the best guy you’d ever known. 

You finally understood why ‘be careful what you wish for’ was such a self-fulfilling prophecy. 

After your long distance chat, begrudgingly you got dressed for the office; even though you didn’t have to really go officially—you were off until you started at London next Friday—there was some paperwork that needed your signature. You wanted to get it over with so as to spend the next few days peacefully crying in bed.

Half-heartedly walking to the train station, you wondered if you’d even crossed Yugyeom’s mind since yesterday.

Maybe it was a bit selfish, but you wanted to know if he was thinking about you; or was it just you that was miserable.

He was.

Of course he was.

While he chugged a bottle of water, because his mouth felt like sandpaper, all he could worry about was how you were going to pack all your belongings in such a short amount of time, without forgetting the most important stuff; and how he was going to not lose his sanity over it. 

Ominously so, life had come such a full circle for him; because had your colleague not been a student at the academy, he would have never met you.

The work-life that brought you to him, ultimately took you away too. 

Funny how the universe works, right?

He’d drank so much alcohol the previous night in hopes of forgetting you that even an hour without your face swimming in his head would have been worth it. Yet, all night all he lamented about was how unfair it was that he was going to have to let you go.

His friend circle–that over time had also become your friend circle–had been made aware of the whole ordeal, so they knew what to expect. They were just surprised by the magnanimity of it. 

Yugyeom had never been heartbroken—at least to this extent. In the 10+ years of knowing him, he’d never expressed so many emotions in such little time to any of his friends. It was like witnessing a compressed pack of cocaine burst under high pressure; messy and not a good look for anyone.

When he woke up he already had a text from Jaebeom very sternly asking him to not come in to work until he got his shit together, several texts from Mark asking how he was feeling and to start hydrating his body immediately, and a whole essay from Jackson on how he should drop his tough guy act and be with you till it was time to go. 

He hated being called out like that.

Yugyeom: Hyung you’re supposed to be my friend and tell me I should forget her immediately. His text elicited an immediate response. 

Jackson: Listen you brat. I’m your friend that’s why I’m asking you to spend the last few days she is here with her. Because I know you and you’re going to regret this later.

Yugyeom: Tell me, how does it matter if she’s out of my life today or after five days?

Jackson: You won’t even try to stay in touch?

Yugyeom: No.

Jackson: Is that a mutual decision?

Yugyeom stopped replying after that, because now that he was sober, he was back to not being able to aptly express his feelings and he actually didn’t know the answer to that question. 

He’d thought about this so much yesterday, while in bed next to you. There was no expiration date on your time in London, there wasn’t even any guarantee that after London you’d come back—you could get transferred to anywhere in the world. That particular uncertainty had torn his heart into smithereens and had led him to end the relationship so abruptly. 

It had seemed logical yesterday.

Today? not so much.

You’d zoned out staring at a travel bag while window shopping. After your work was done you thought of giving retail therapy a shot, an endeavour that was proving to be extremely unsuccessful, for the lack of focus you were carrying with you.

A loud, screeching, honking bus on the road snapped you back to reality, but not really. You were still dazed and confused and within seconds wanted to go back home, wondering why you thought this was a good idea in the first place. 

You did buy three pastries and a venti on your way though, to devour your feelings once home. To discover that you’d forgotten how you lived life before Yugyeom and not understand how to combat it, was definitely taking a toll on you. The concept of being without him seemed so outlandish, it felt like a distant dream you might have had in your childhood. For now, until you found a way out of this maze, unhealthy coping mechanisms would have to do.

Truth be told, you were itching to call him. When it came to him, your ego was barely existent.

You were still plenty mad and wanted him to realise how stupid he was for not taking you up on the offer last night, of course, but you also wanted hear his voice equally badly, at the cost of him being unwilling to entertain you.

You had been postponing your urge every hour, since morning, because this time around you were reluctant to lose this battle; even though you’d already lost the war.

At 9am it was ‘Wait for another hour, maybe he’ll turn up.’ At 10am it became ‘Maybe I’ll stop by the studio’– but that was too much effort (and you were in no mood to face Jaebeom). When you were leaving for work, you baited yourself by saying you’ll call him after you were done at the office and currently you were convincing yourself to wait till you reached back home, so that at least when he ignored your calls, you could cry into a cup of tiramisu and feel better about it.

That thought was more comforting than it needed to be.

This awkwardness of not being able to wiggle your way into his life this time, was eating you inside, honestly. It’s not that you’d never had disagreements and fights before, where he’d left for Bam’s because he was too frustrated to even talk to you—in spite of him indulging his anger to a bare minimum, there had been plenty of those. But this was the only one time where saying sorry and promising to buy him chocoshakes for a week wasn’t going to cut it.

Along your route home, you bought more food—a full loaf of strawberry bread from the train station, some chips and a sandwich at the convenience store, a slice from the pizzeria nearby and finally your favourite fried chicken. Clearly, you had a lot of feelings to chew through and some days of solitude to chew them.

You hadn’t anticipated the struggle to get your apartment door to open, with all those packets hanging on your arms, trying not to spill any of the contents. What you also didn't anticipate was Yugyeom opening the door from inside, asking you to hand over some of the things you were holding.

You felt your system shut down like windows 98 being attacked by a trojan.

Was this real? Was this a delusion and you'd really just dropped everything on the floor? 

“Yu….gyeom?” You called out, afraid of not actually hearing an answer.

“Why are you still standing outside, noona?”

“Oh-uhm-I….” you fumbled, before closing the door. “This.. is-uh?? Hmm-what-what are you… doing here?”

“Honestly? I don’t know.” He replied curtly.

You furrowed your brows accompanying it with frown lines on your forehead, indicative of the confusion you were unable to convey verbally. 

However, you chose not to question him further, not wanting to go wherever that interrogation would have taken you. You were more than content to see him move around at close proximity, even if it was in silence. 

There were plenty of places he could have gone, really, he didn’t have to be there if he didn’t want to; but he did want to. Oh god he’d wanted to see you so badly. More so than the hangover, it was a bizarre feeling in his chest, from the way he’d behaved with you last night, that had caused him discomfort all morning. That and Jackson’s messages. 

Was he really not even going to try to keep in touch? But then….. who likes to stay in touch with an ex? 

“Want some cake?” you asked, in an effort to dissipate the elephant in the room. “Or some other food? Pizza? You look like shit, you should probably eat something greasy.”

“You went and bought the whole shop didn’t you?” he raised his eyebrow. 

“I… did not. I was….. craving a lot of things.”

“You know, the only times you’ve bought so much food is when you’re sad about us fighting over something.”

“Well—I am sad,” you paused, “and we are fighting ... and this one seems to be the last one.”

“For now” he added and then immediately retracted his statement 

“I’m...I don’t know why I said that. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Yugyeom... baby,”

When did you even get close enough to do that, he wondered, as you cupped his face.

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, you know?”

He put his arms around your waist and pulled you into a tender hug, because if he looked into your eyes any deeper he would have either kissed you or teared up; and neither was a good option to choose from.

“Noona will you promise me something?” he then asked, his words heavy and morose.

“Hmm?”

“Please try your best to forget me.”

You weren’t expecting that sentence to knock the wind out of your lungs, because you weren’t expecting to hear that sentence at all.

You broke away from him, tears accumulating against your will. 

“Did you come here to hurt me, Yugyeom?”

It felt like a sword was now ominously hung above your head, when you looked at him; and it could fall at any moment and sever your head.

“Don’t take this the wrong way. I just…. I don’t know. Don’t hold onto some irrational hope or something. That’s all I meant.”

“Irrational hope? Really, of what? Getting back together someday? You wanna get rid of me and move on so fast that you want me to forget you? Is that it?”

“Don’t twist my words. That’s not what I meant. You know that’s not what I meant.”

“You think I don’t understand that this is the end for us?”

“Just ... leave it, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Yeah you shouldn’t have.”

“But I don’t want to be the reason you hold yourself back in London. That’s all.” He yielded, not wanting to make matters any worse.

“You know what…. I was wrong to think it would be a good idea to pretend like nothing’s changed until I get on the plane. You win.” 

The anger in your tone and your deadpan face made it very clear that you were not interested in holding a conversation about this, any further. “I’m gonna go start collecting my stuff. I should be out of your apartment and your life, by tomorrow evening.”

Before Yugyeom could react, you slammed the bedroom door shut and locked yourself inside.

One second later he was banging on the door frantically.

“Noona! Come on, open the door please.

Please, baby!”

He must have stood there trying to rotate the knob, begging you to let him inside, for at least fifteen minutes before giving up and sliding onto the floor.

This was turning out to be worse than his worst nightmare.

If he knew you at all, he knew you would want to come out to smoke soon. So he sat by the door, getting annoyed at himself for saying that and at you for taking it out of context.

Before coming here, he’d asked for Jinyoung’s opinion on whether this was a good idea or not; and Jinyoung had replied asking him to not do anything foolish. He had assumed Jinyoung meant going to his house to meet you was the foolish act. Dejectedly, he typed a text.

Yugyeom: Well…. I should have listened to you. I went to see her and you were right, it was a bad idea.

Jinyoung: when did I say that was a bad idea?

Yugyeom: you said not to do anything stupid

Jinyoung: yeah, I meant don’t go there and mess it up. I didn’t mean don’t go there at all. What did you do?

Yugyeom: oh…. nothing. 

Jinyoung: I can call her and ask.

Yugyeom: No! Fuck. please don’t do that. She’s already pissed at me.

Jinyoung: what did you do

Yugyeom: I asked her to move on

Jinyoung: huh?

Yugyeom: I don’t want her to get hung up on me and us and the maybes and what ifs when she's there. Because I know she will.

Jinyoung: and what about you? Are you going to try your best to forget her?

Yugyeom paused and stared at that question for a few minutes. No…. of course not, how could he want to forget you or anything about you. Even if every memory attached to you dug into his organs like shards of glass, he’d gladly take them all to his grave. 

Yugyeom: she doesn’t need to know if I do it or not.

Jinyoung: I’m glad God gave you the gift of dance because clearly intelligence and common sense are completely lost on you. 

Yugyeom: hyung i'm really not in the mood to be insulted right now.

Jinyoung: Jackson asked you to drop your tough guy act didn’t he? She doesn’t need you to protect her. She’s never needed anyone to protect her from anything. You should stop trying to save her from whatever it is that you think you’re saving her from.

Yugyeom: I’m not trying to do anything. I don’t want her to regret going to London.

Jinyoung: How is asking to forget you a solution to that? Say hypothetically she does forget you. In a years time she doesn’t give a fuck about what you meant to her. She meets someone else and starts dating, maybe even gets engaged. Would that make you happy?

Yugyeom: No. But she’ll be happy. 

Jinyoung: that’s your problem. You’re assuming that forgetting you and finding a new life would make her happy. 

Yugyeom: Well won’t it? Idk I just don’t want her to be hung up on us and if she gets stuck on it, I don’t think she will be. 

Jinyoung: You just said you don’t wanna move on so then why the fuck are you forcing it on her?

Yugyeom: hyung she doesn’t need to know how miserable I am. Without knowing that whenever she sees me she apologises to me. if she gets to know how much I want her to stay I’m scared she’ll turn down the promotion. She’s already thought about not going.

Jinyoung: let her make her own decisions? Right now you’re lying to her. I’m 95% sure she’s pissed because you’re trying to act unfazed by all of this.

Jinyoung: Just this one time, try to not bottle up how you’re feeling.

Jinyoung: tell her you have no interest in moving on. Be honest, man.

Jinyoung: and just saying, asking the ‘love of your life’, who calls you ‘the love of her life’, to forget you after 12 hours of breaking up is a shitty thing to do. She should have kicked you in the balls. 

He typed up a stingy reply to that but, before he could send it, the sound of you unbolting the door from inside distracted him. Hurriedly, he stood up, to catch hold of you. 

“Yugyeom, leave me alone. You got what you wanted?”, you spoke frostily.

“Are you going to smoke?”

“Are you going to stop me?”

“No.. But I wish you’d hear me out. Let me say my piece and if you’re still pissed, I’ll leave. I promise.”

After opening the window sill and lighting your cigarette, you waited for him to start. Your face was red and hurting from crying so incessantly, but you were determined to not let your emotions get the best of you, in front of him. At least, not right now. 

“When I asked you to forget me, I didn’t mean… you know, erase me from your memory or whatever. I meant give yourself a proper chance at happiness, when you’re there.”

You gave him no expressions.

“Like… I’m not dying to move on. This is killing me. I don't want us to come to an end. I even thought of giving long distance another shot… or like you know….maybe just keep in touch. But every time I thought about it, it was too painful. So I couldn’t ask you to do that because I…. didn’t wanna do that.” 

Saying that out loud made him realise how selfish he sounded. He continued his monologue when you wordlessly stood still and puffed away.

“I wanted to pretend like this isn’t hurting me, but I’m so miserable, noona. I don’t know how to live without you. I don’t even want to know how to live without you. But, I want you to live your life without me; which is hypocritical, I guess, but that’s why I asked you to forget me.”

“That’s really fucking unfair.” you interrupted. “You’re planning things for me without asking what I want. That’s not how it works. If I want to move on or not, is my decision. If I want to be miserable over you or not, is my decision. If I want to live my best life in London or not, again, is my decision. I have never loved anyone like I’ve loved you, Yugyeom; so what you asked of me was just cruel. I know I want to live in a fantasy until I have no option but to accept the outcome. I know it’s not a good way to deal with things. How could you even think  that forgetting you would ever be an option?

“I’m sorry” he pursed his lips and looked at the floor.

“When I said we have five more days, I wanted to play pretend. I was just trying to live in this denial bit longer. 

“Then… can I live in that denial with you?”

“No, I’m sorry, I gotta pack and hand over the house to the owner by tomorrow.”

“I’m sure the owner will understand if you’re delayed by a day or two or four.”

“I’m tired of running around in circles with you man”, you sighed. “No matter how this turns out, I will never not love you. Maybe in ten years time you’ll be with some other girl and I’ll be with some other dude, even then I will probably, in some capacity, still love you. And I get it if you don’t want to feel the same way, you don’t have to. But don’t ask me not to.”

“Thinking about you with someone else really fucking hurts.” he admitted, feeling a knot tighten in his throat.

“It hurts me too but you’re the one so fucking adamant about moving on like it’s gonna happen in 2 days.”

“Are you still angry?”

“Yeah, of course... but I can let it slide if you promise to forget about me.” 

“Haha very funny.”

You chuckled and he wasted no time in giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“The only thing I can promise you is that I’ll love you till I die.”

“No one is dying, baby.”

“Without you, I just might.”

“Jaebeom won’t let that happen, you’re the second reason his studio has clients.”

“What’s the first?”

“Jaebeom, obviously.”

Yugyeom rolled his eyes at you. “He’s going to have to be the only reason, till next week because I’m stuck to you till you get on that plane.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I’m not letting you leave that room for the next 100 hours, starting now.”

He didn’t give you much time to process his words, as he picked you up to take you into the bedroom. You tried to fake-protest to the best of your capabilities, but truth be told there was no better feeling than hiding your face in the crook of his neck; while he effortlessly carried you in.

Making his intentions for the night perfectly clear, he took off his shirt.

“Wait-wait-wait!” you yelped, pinned under his lithe form. “All the food is on the table, I'll be damned if that Tiramisu goes to waste. I’ll be back in five.”

“Make it three.”

“Okay baby.”

Then you kissed him on the nose and ran out.

Since your last reconciliation, you'd spent most of your time in bed, mostly without clothes, wrapped in Yugyeom’s arms; savouring every kiss, every touch, trying to save these ending moments in your memory, so you could replay them over and over again at the end of this week when all this would inevitably be over. Your departure was three days away and the fact that you were still unpacked was beginning to weigh down on you heavily. You were at a point where you couldn’t really avoid it any more; even though it was antithetical to the denial you’d built your cozy house in.

As much anxiety you had regarding leaving and not wanting to deal with that, there was an equal amount of anxiety related to not being prepared ahead of time. It was a lose-lose situation either way, with consequences that weren’t susceptible to change. So, you decided to rip the bandaid completely, to avoid running around like a headless chicken at the last minute.

You didn’t have to deal with the furniture, at least, because even though some of it was bought together, Yugyeom owned the apartment. You just had to sort through your clothes and products.

He wasn't the most excited at the thought of seeing you empty out the house. 

“Do you know your living situation in London?” he asked, trying to hold up a conversation.

“Yeah…they’re giving me a furnished apartment as part of the deal.”

“Wait no rent?”

“Uh-huh”

“Woah that’s amazing.” The lack of excitement completely contradicted his statement. “And who’s gonna help you set up and stuff? Won’t you need help?”

“Uhm... mum’s already gonna be there when I land. Not at the apartment, obviously, but…. in London.”

“Aah. Ok ok. It’ll be good, you haven’t seen your parents in a long time”

“Hmm I guess.”

“And your visas and shit?”

“Yeah my passport’s with the company, they’ll sort it all out and hand it to me on the day of the flight.”A

Yugyeom felt like he’d accidentally stepped on an emotional land mine. 

He was already gutted about seeing his closet empty, and now hearing your monotone voice just upset him even further. But he didn’t want to show how sad this was making him either, because then you would probably cry.

It was really frustrating.

He quickly made up an excuse to leave for a bit. “Is it okay if I go to the studio, Jaebeom hyung needs me to sort through some assessments. But if you need me to stay, I’ll tell him something.”

”No, it’s okay. I have to face time Ishi anyway. I haven't spoken to her in a hot minute. And Jae has been more than patient this past week. I’ll try to be done soon too. It’ll probably take me 4-5 hours.”

Oh.

 “I’ll definitely be back by then.”

“Or… maybe I can meet you at the station and we can go to Naksan?”

He gave you an affirmative forced grin, kissed you on the forehead and headed to the studio to redirect all the aggression he was so suddenly full of.

Just knowing that you’d be leaving a giant gaping hole in his life, was driving him nuts. He wasn’t sure if he could keep up his end of the bargain any longer. You at least would get to start over a new life, in a new place with new faces. But he was going to have to pick up pieces of his life that he knew you were about to leave behind shattered; and never look back at 

Your fragrance lingered in every corner of his apartment. His bathroom smelt like your shampoo, his closet smelt like your body spray and cigarettes, his bed.… how was he ever going to exorcise your memories out of his bed? His king size bed that had not seen a dip on the right side up until you had waltzed into his life. Everything was going to remind him of you. His favourite restaurants, clubs, hideaways—it was overwhelming him. 

“Aah fuck” he mumbled to himself, absent-mindedly walking into the studio - much to Jaebeom’s surprise.

“I thought you weren’t coming in?”

“She’s packing. I’ll break something if I have to sit through it.”

“Don’t break anything here.”

“Maybe my bones.”

“The third room is empty.”

He was barely going to be able to concentrate on whatever choreography he was going to try, but he acknowledged Jaebeom and locked himself inside.

Jaebeom also felt rather incompetent to handle the situation, since he’d never seen this volatile and mostly upset side of Yugyeom. So he just let the kid do whatever he wanted to. No one knows what to do until you actually start doing it, right? Jinyoung would probably disapprove of this philosophy, but he wasn’t there to voice his objections, so too bad!

When dancing, Yugyeom barely ever understood the concept of time, so between choosing a song, researching some new styles, to mentally animating the possible formations, 4 hours flew by. He yelped and hurriedly ran to his phone, hoping he wasn’t already late.

You sighed heavily at the other end of the call “no... I’m still working through the pile. It’s probably going to take me two hours more.”

“It’ll be too dark to go to Naksan then.”

“Yeah…. I guess. Just come home?”

“It’ll take me some more time at the studio though.”

“That’s okay, take your time. It’s a mess here anyway.”

“Hmm… I’ll see you later then, noona.”

And he went back to focusing on perfecting the new moves, even harder than before, because otherwise your voice would keep ringing in his ears. He could hear how disheartened you already sounded and he wanted to be there for you, but he had to take care of his own feelings first, before he could take care of yours.

He didn’t know he could feel such a foul mood, but that’s what his days had recently been made of. All he’d done was get blackout drunk, fight and then fuck; this wasn’t a routine he recognised at all.

It was almost nine in the night when he entered the house, fully expecting to see you still having a rough time with a mountain of clothes next to you. Surprisingly, he found you passed out next to an empty cup of coffee.

He peeked inside the bedroom and his eyes immediately went to the two giant suitcases stacked in the corner and a cardboard box balanced on top of them.

His closet now housed his bare minimum collection of T-shirts and sweatpants and the bathroom was entirely stripped of its former glory. It was depressing. He took a quick shower and considered slumping onto the bed, knowing full well he should wake you up and make you eat something.

Who was going to feed you actual healthy food in London, with him not around? Because if you had it your way, you’d call a bag of chips dinner and call it a day.

He tried with everything he had, to not care about it and went back into the bedroom, fully determined to go to sleep. Perhaps it was his frustration towards the situation that was garnering such a petty reaction. But then he thought about it for five minutes more and felt like an absolute asshole. Why was he taking this out on you? It’s not like you deliberately caused it. It’s not even like he wanted you to stay for him.

He shook his head almost aggressively, as if trying to physically shake off the bad thoughts and went back out, to do what he actually should have done as soon as he came home.

You’d fallen asleep in the most haphazard position; your head resting on your arms on the kitchen island top, and your body stretched out on the chair. It didn’t look comfortable whatsoever.

He nudged you gently, “noona?”

You barely even stirred.

“Wake up, baby”. The butterflies he gave you, at such close proximity, made you open your eyes. 

“What time is it?” you groaned, lifting your head the slightest bit.

“It’s almost 10.”

You did a little cat stretch. “Did you just get back?”

“No... it’s been a bit, I took a shower and everything”.

“Oh… okay. I was planning on taking a bath too” you trailed off, yawning through the rest of the sentence.

“I’ll make something for us till then.”he replied, thinking about what they could eat, but his chain of thought was disturbed by a phone call.

“Oh hyung, yo.” you heard him say. His energy seemed so low.

“Wait right now? I don’t know hyung.”

Inquisitively you tilted your head and he handed you the phone. The quota of patience he had for the day was very low. 

You could see Jackson’s name on the screen and you greeted him accordingly.

“You wanna chill here?” You repeated, simultaneously gesturing to Yugyeom about his thoughts on the matter at hand. 

He shrugged indecisively and you came to the realisation that you hadn’t actually thought of when you’d say your final goodbyes to Jackson, or in fact anyone else except for Yugyeom; so now seemed like as good a time as any.

“Yeah cool, how long will you take?”

With his patience running on thin ice, the man standing in front of you frowned, but you pretended to not notice it. Instead, you stretched and headed for the shower, avoiding his gaze. Yugyeom’s energy was all over the place and you were lowkey glad you wouldn’t have to deal with it by yourself.

You thought about planning your day tomorrow and meeting at least some of the people you cared about. What you hadn’t expected was Jackson bringing most of those people to you.

Half an hour after the phone call, your living room was at full capacity. It wasn’t even that many people honestly, just your usual hang-out group - a mixture of your and Yugyeom’s combined friend list, but your living room looked full. 

Yugyeom was even more displeased than before, but managed to hide it by holding onto a bottle of beer, like it was crucial to his existence.

“He didn’t say he was coming with…. everyone.” You sheepishly expressed. 

“It’s fine. At least you get to meet most of your friends.”

“Yeah I guess, i was just thinking about it.”

You get distracted by a hand on your shoulder, “thinking about what?” Bambam asked

“Meeting some people before leaving.” You repeated.

“Ooh depressing.” 

“That’s one way to look at it.” You gave him a deadpan stare, unimpressed by his poor timing.

Yugyeom took the opportunity to wander off to his other friends, most of whom were gathered around the table of food, in front of the TV.

Some random nonsense movie was playing that Mark and his girlfriend were really invested in. He considered sitting next to them but he was not sure when they’d start making out, so he parked himself next to Jaebeom instead. His head was heavier in that moment than it had been in the morning, when he’d left. He couldn’t leave right now though, Jackson would beat his ass.

So he settled for eating silently and drinking slowly, in his little corner.

Meanwhile, you were trying to keep up a brave face. Jackson had already repeated himself at least thrice, saying how much he was going to miss you and it was getting more and more difficult to hold your tears. 

Taking a large gulp of the wine you had in your hand, you told him you were going to miss him a lot too and gave him a partial hug.

There was no scope of hiding from the reality of the situation anymore.

Two days later no one in this room was going to physically be a part of your life. Just two days. All you wanted to do was find Yugyeom and bury your head in his chest, like the ostrich that you were.

You took in some really deep breaths and poured yourself more booze, in the hopes of turning it around and becoming chipper.

Inevitability should be accepted or else life begins to feel like a drag…. no?

Alcohol made it a lot easier for you to bury the sadness that came with your unofficial ‘bon voyage’ celebration. A part of you was also suddenly scared to approach Yugyeom. You studied his face carefully, discreetly, while seated on the couch. Get togethers usually made him hyper, yet here he was looking into his phone like he was studying for a phd degree.

Even though there was an overwhelming urge to go and talk to him, you decided against it. If he wasn’t feeling some type of way, he would not have isolated himself like that and you knew you were partially to blame for it 

You indulged in more cocktails, talked to your friends and somewhere in the middle of all this chatter, Jackson, for the nth time commenced a relay of toasts addressed to you. Really on brand of him to talk about his feelings like that but because you were caught so off-guard you started crying.You weren’t prepared for this kind of emotional haranguing.

Yugyeom hated every minute of it. He didn’t want to hear over and over again that you were leaving, or see you cry. He should have declined Jackson’s proposition when he had the chance to, but now he had to deal with long speeches almost all of which included him too. He felt his lungs constrict like he was about to drown. Jaebeom gave him a comforting pat on the back and passed him a new bottle of soju. 

From time to time he looked at you but avoided eye contact. He knew he should have been next to you, hugging and comforting you, he just couldn’t bring himself upto the task. It was that same resentment he had felt earlier today that made him respond in this fashion. All he wanted was this night to end and for everyone to leave. But then again, maybe this was better because he didn’t have to be alone with you. 

You cried for a good hour while everyone told you they were going to miss you. There were long hugs and accelerating levels of inebriation involved. You promised to text everyone back because at that moment you had no proper words to say and you wanted to tell them all so much. 

By the time you crossed your threshold of tipsy to near blackout drunk, it was almost daybreak. The sun was just beginning to peek at you from behind the mountains. 

Yugyeom was in a worse shape than you, so Jackson and Jinyoung decided to clean up a bit, as your parting gift; trying to rope in Bambam in.

“No way. I know what’s coming after she leaves. I deserve a break before donning my emotional clean up crew role.”

“Don’t lie, you’re both just going to drink.” 

“Yes and drown him in his sorrows. This is how you clean out emotions. He’s gonna drink and cry.”

“That’s the worst way to deal with anything.” Jackson rolled his eyes

“Hyung…. you work out and write music, he drinks and dances. It’s not really all that different.”

“It’s not the same either though. If I feel something I don’t carry it with me. All he does is let it eat him until he forgets it or explodes.”

Can you debate about this later and help me carry him to the bedroom?” Jaebeom interrupted. 

Jackson handed the empty bottles to Jinyoung and got to the task of shifting Yugyeom’s large body from the couch.

“Just him?” Bambam asked

“I already tucked her in,” Jaebeom replied. “We should get out of here soon.”

“Yeah, I still have to go to work. Can’t believe Youngjae and Mark left me alone.” Jinyoung complained, trying to make as little noise as possible while trashing the garbage.

With a lot of difficulty, Jackson was able to plonk Yugyeom on the bed. Jaebeom studied you both before heaving a sigh. The peaceful look on your faces was not an accurate testament to your respective behaviours prior to passing out. But there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He kept a trash bag and a bottle of water each near your nightstands before leaving. 

At least he could hope that when you wake up, you’d feel better.

... You didn’t.

The splitting headache you were experiencing was really on another level when combined with your sandpaper mouth. Thankfully things were conveniently placed around you because if you had to walk to the kitchen to drink water right now you'd rather die of thirst than get up. Your attention turned to the man next to you, his porcelain skin tempting you to kiss him or at least stroke his face, but you resisted. 

You finished the whole bottle and gently lowered yourself back into the bed, lying awake with throbbing pains radiating from various places. 

Yugyeom made a cute sound in his sleep, making your heart jump. It was nearly impossible to not want to scoot closer to him. He hadn’t given you a hug in all of twenty four hours and you were already about to lose your mind.

How you were going to survive without him was really beyond your comprehension.

You just lightly touched your fingers to his palm and closed your eyes, hoping you’d fall back to sleep. The next thing you knew he had one arm around you and was pulling you into his chest; aligning his body with yours. His soft breaths landing on the back of your neck, making you shiver.

“Feeling okay?��� He asked in his hoarse, morning voice. 

“Hmm…”

You could feel his lips moving against your skin as he spoke, making you melt in his embrace. Your heartbeat accelerated and he held onto you even tighter. 

Melancholy hung in the air, much like Christmas decorations in December; he could feel it. Your legs intertwined and he heard a faint sob.

There was nothing he could say that would change the atmosphere. It was time to burst the bubble, so he let you cry, and he cried too.

Head buried in your back, he whispered, “noona…. please will you leave a hoodie of yours with me?”

You nodded and kissed his hand. 

“I love you.” He said and the both of you went back to sleep. 

It was almost evening when he finally woke up. You weren’t in bed anymore, his head was hammering to a tune of it’s own, in spite of having medicated in the morning, and his body was craving water. Staggering, he made his way to the kitchen and found you in a semi-messy situation with cooking paraphernalia all over the counter.

“Oh? What is happening here”. It sounded like he was concerned but he was really only a bit confused. 

“making some sandwiches.”

“Suddenly? Why? We could have just ordered.”

“Yeaaah I don’t know, just felt like it.”

He smiled, because you looked so cute in that apron. His mood was foul but looking at you made it better. He chugged some water while you emptied the pan and he was overcome with the urge to hug you.

You were caught off-guard when he put his arms around you, but you reciprocated his gesture. It was difficult for you to look him in the eyes because you weren’t sure if, for the hundredth time, you'd end up crying. He cupped your face and nudged you to see him, the sincerity in his face…. all the love he wanted to shower you with right then.

He kissed you slowly, taking his time to taste the light traces of your strawberry lip balm. You didn'’t know what spells he used to get you turned on so fast. Threading your fingers with his hair, you deepen the kiss. The urgency that took over him was maddening. He wanted you right now, which he made abundantly clear when he slipped his left hand under your T-shirt and began caressing your boobs; his other hand gripping your hair and pulling it sharply. 

There was air caught up in your lungs as he kissed your neck, like you’d temporarily forgotten how to breathe. Low moans began to escape your lips and you squeezed your thighs together. You were so wet, just with his mildly aggressive kisses.

He knew what he was doing to you when he felt your lower body clench and both his hands slid back down to grab your butt.

The kiss got sloppier as your focus dwindled to his boner, your fingers already caressing it over his sweatpants. He bit your lip in response, pushed you against the kitchen island and aimed to remove your clothes. You were still in your flannel and shorts from the night before, so he fumbled a bit on the buttons. His accuracy was failing him because you weren't stroking him over the sweatpants anymore; he could feel your hand sliding over his skin, purposefully slow and tender. His eyes were barely open, your lips were still locked and he was trying to get you naked without actually seeing what he was doing. He grunted helplessly when you touched the tip of his cock. Wet sounds of you stroking his length, mixed in with his shallow breaths and moans, filled the kitchen. 

He nibbled on your neck, as your movements accelerated. With your non-dominant hand you tried your best to remove his sweatpants, but he stopped you.

“Turn around.” He whispered, pulling your hand away. The way he seduced you with his demanding voice and bedroom eyes, you gave in without a fight. You bucked your hips and grabbed the closest edge of the marble top. He bit your neck, gently sucking at the skin caught between his lips, until it looked bruised and then he moved on further down, while dry humping your ass, one hand firmly placed on your waist. A small gasp escaped your lips when his fingers slipped inside your panties. Automatically, you spread your legs wide, to let him access the delicate parts. 

He could smell your shampoo mixed in with your intoxicating scent and it was sending him over the moon as he played with your wet and sensitive clit.

“Good girl” he praised, when you pushed your ass further into his boner, craving to feel it bare.

You hummed, his thin and long fingers dancing to the tune of your arousal. He fingered you slowly and deliberately, and it was excruciating. 

It was the last time he was going to get to feel you. Tomorrow you'd be gone. It made him angry and sad. It made him desperate. 

You could feel his aggression in the way his lips collided onto yours with force, the way his nails dug into your skin, the way his body was stiff and wrapped around you in a solid cage.

His hold on you tightened and he spun you around again, to face him. He wanted to make sure you never forgot how he made you feel; so that no other man would ever be enough for you because he set that bar up so high. He wanted to spoil the idea of being pleased again by anyone else, for you. Maybe it was toxic to think that way, but he was already letting go of you.

He had no choice but to let go of you. The train of thought he'd gotten on made his brain short circuit and switch off. He wasn't aroused anymore and everything was blurry and confusing. Before he could stop himself, he took a step back.

“Don't leave me, noona.” He said in a small voice, looking at the floor.

The words crash on you like a violent wave. 

You wished he'd stayed looking at the tiles, because when he looked up, you felt the guilt of having accidentally run over a puppy. There was sadness and shame and anger and you didn't know which emotion to address first.

“Yugs….”

So many words swirled in your brain but your lips were sewn shut.

“So, I guess that's a no.”

“What are you trying to do, Yugyeom?”

“Oh well, It was worth a try.” He chuckled, rather bitterly.

What else was he expecting would happen.

Life is not a movie scene; the girl doesn't quit on her career for the boy, in real life. But was it valid for him to feel the sting that persistently worsened as you two stood opposite each other uncomfortably? He knew this was going to happen. He chose it with you. Hell, he chose it for you even. While he was trying to rationalise his own resentments, you straightened yourself up and started putting the buttons of your shirt back in place. 

“I don't know what you want to hear from me, Yugs. You know I don't want to leave you. And you don't want to come with me.”

Shit, that stung him even more.

“I have to leave for the airport in 12 hours so do we have to be like this?” You asked defeatedly. 

He shook his head and you extended your arms, waiting for him to fall into them.

“I'm really sorry we have to end this way.”

In his experience, there was no safer feeling than being held by you, but right now it was the root cause of all the knives ruthlessly jammed in his chest.

Nonetheless, he hugged you and exhaled pure agony.

“I'm gonna go take a shower. Maybe afterwards, if you feel like it, we can go get some drinks?” You asked cautiously.

“Yeah… I’d like that” he lied, as he let go. Truth be told, he couldn't look past the multiple ‘last times’ anymore. The last time he could hug you, the last time he could fuck you, the last time he could hear your voice… he couldn't do any of it. He didn't want to do any of it. He didn't want this for the last time. He heard you close the door to the bathroom and started fixing his appearance however he could, grabbed his wallet and phone and headed out. If he stayed in that house for a second more he felt he'd choke and die. He was trying to run away from the toxic fumes his own thoughts were emitting, and there was nowhere to hide from them, so he tried to leave them behind. 

His brisk walk turned into a sprint and then he ran as fast as he could towards the subway station. And just like that he vanished into the sea of anonymity, nowhere to be found.

Four hours had gone by since you'd come out of your shower to a deserted house and a singular message from Yugyeom. “Sorry noona, I can't do this.”

it felt like a cruel déjà vu.

His phone wasn't reachable. Bambam had no idea, neither did Jaebeom. You were much too confused to react in any appropriate manner.

“He left” You said to Jaebeom, who was equally confused and infuriated.

It seemed like you'd already connected the dots as to Yugyeom’s unavailability but a part of you was holding onto some hope.

“I'm sure he's gonna show up dude.”

“I have to leave in like 3 more hours. He wouldn't have left if he planned to show up.”

“He's definitely not at Bam’s?”

“Jae…. unless I was being lied to, he's not there. And i don't think Bam has any reason to do that.”

“Okay. Keep me posted.”

“Yeah” you sighed. 

You were neither angry, nor sad and you had good reason to experience both those emotions at once, but the way your brain had switched itself to autopilot, everything had just become a matter of necessity. 

You tried Yugyeom’s number once again, and weren't even surprised anymore when you heard the automated switched off message. 

While scanning the room your eyes fell upon your suitcases and your heart dropped 6 feet further than where it was already at.

You had to leave soon.

The silence had already been gnawing at your sanity, now it was overpowering guilt because if you had just said no, none of this would have happened. If you had just said no to the promotion. If you had tried harder for Seoul. If you had chosen to stay when Yugyeom asked you to, then the chain of events would have been different. Maybe, if he'd not run away from this whole situation you could have figured out a solution. But he wasn't here and you were running out of time.

A high pitched buzzer cut through the atmosphere, giving you a jump scare. For a second you thought maybe it was Yugyeom, but why would he need to ring the bell.

You saw Jackson's silhouette in the little alarm system by the door and sighed. 

“You look so unhappy to see me.” He huffed, when you greeted him dryly.

“Gee Jackson, sorry I'm upset about Yugyeom literally bailing on me when I have to leave in an hour.”

“Wait what? He's not back?” 

“No…..i don't know where he is.”

“And he's still not answering?”

“I tried about 50 times, it's off. Anyway, how come you're here?” 

It was comical how distraught you were internally and how inept you were at translating your emotions externally. The way you were talking, no one would think you were in this sad sad situation of leaving your life behind to start a new one.

“You don't remember asking me to drop you off?”

“Was I drunk?”

“Well…. tipsy maybe?”

“I was definitely drunk. I don't remember any of it. But, I'm glad you're here.”

“Are you…. packed?”

“Yeah, I just got the last batch of clothes I need to shove in.”

“Cool. You have anything to eat?”

“I made some sandwiches in the evening. Have at it.”

You were trying your best to be normal. A few minutes later Bambam and Jaebeom arrived as well, both without any worthwhile news of Yugyeom.

“I'm gonna kill him when I see him.” Jaebeom raged.”this is very childish.”

“It's fine man…. i know why he just vanished. It's okay. I'm not mad.” 

“Bro are you…. Hearing yourself?”

“Very clearly. He was never good with confrontational emotions. He didn't want to see me leave so he left. It's not rocket science.” 

“You went through your stages of grief really fast with this one.” 

“I didn't have an option.” you looked at the three of them sitting around you “So…. are all of you taking me to the airport?”

“Yeah, duh.” Bambam countered.

“Okay then wait for me in the car, I need to say bye to the house.”

“And you can't do that in front of us?” 

“Would you rather get uncomfortable watching me cry?”

Honestly, you were just prolonging it, the actual act of leaving. You felt so heavy when Jaebeom rolled your suitcases out. In passing you looked at your two favourite hoodies you'd left on the bed and it took everything out of you to not have an emotional breakdown right at that moment.

It was difficult, leaving was difficult especially without Yugyeom. You were in denial of your feelings but you were so angry at him but also so sorry towards him, your emotions kept cancelling each other out. You just wanted to hug him one last time and get the closure you were hoping to get but he took that option away from you. In your three year relationship, this was maybe the most cruel he’d ever been with you. But it was over now. This chapter was done, even with all of its loose ends.

You took your time saying your final byes to three of the most important people you'd met in Seoul. It was quite impressive that you didn't burst out in tears, even when Bam and Jae almost did. There was a part of you that was distracted by a hope that he'd be at the airport to see you off. When he wasn't at the main gates, you hoped he'd be there at check-in. While walking towards your departure gate you kept an eye out, hoping to catch a glimpse of his smile. You just wanted to say goodbye. But he never came. You sat glued to your spot, because what if he did try to find you and you weren't there. You boarded your flight at the very end. You gave an imaginary him all the imaginary chances you could, to materialise and tie a neat ribbon around your life in Seoul.

But your flight took off and the last shred of hope you had snapped and so did you.

Because life isn't a movie. Just like the girl doesn't leave her career, the boy doesn't run through the airport either. 

#got7 #yugy #yugyeom fanfic #yugyeom smut #got7creators #got7 fanfic #got7 fanfiction #got7 yugyeom #yugyeom fanfiction

[popculturebuffet]

Toons for Our Times: Star Vs: Demoncism

Halloween Havoc BEGINS! And with Tomtober this same month, i’m taking another of my on and off looks at Tom! Tom tries to tackle his literla nd figurative  personal demons the natural way: by having a creepy anti-demon cult that’s never explained suck them out of his body. For some reason Star has a problem with this. We also get Ponyhead in a robe, the wonders of reflectcor and free toys from the toychest for being such a good boy. Face your demons under the cut. 

Welcome boys, ghouls and that bootiful technicolor rainbow inbetween, to halloween havoc! MUAHAHHAHA.  You might be wondering a few things. What the hell that is, isn’t that also the title of a bunch of old wcw pay per views, and have I gone insane. In order it’s usually my catchy term the past two years and this current one for my binging of halloween films and logging and reviewing them on my leterboxd account, but I decided to expand it to here since while it’s not my first halloween on here it’s the first both reviewing animation and planning ahead, I decided why not reuse a good title here.  As for the wcw thing.. well yeah. It’s a great title, neither WWE, who I think still owns the copyright, nor WCW”s Heir Apparent AEW are using it right now despite being one of the best recurring Pay-Per-View titles either promotions had. Maybe not in actualy MATCH QUALITy but that name.. it just sings to me so i’m using it for my weird blog. I’m not making any money of this so why not. And as for my sanity that left a long time ago. So prepare for a month of ghouls, ghosts, goblins, lichs, scooby doo parodies, long forgotten characters, and some suprises and pies of all sizes. THIS... IS....

So to start us off, every year my pal @jess-the-vampire​ does a monthly event known as tomtober, a celebration of all things tom lucitor. And since I started hte tomtropsective for that and still am behind, I figured why not celebrate that, and the fact I can’t draw so I can’t do day 1 as a chat or anything, by continuing the tale of everyone’s faviorite teen demon.  Thankfully unlike last time, or next time wink wonk, there’s not a TON of other plot stuff to fill in. There is one important bit not to this episode but to the series as a whole: Eclipsa is here, since Moon trying to screw her out of the deal she made backried once toffee actually died... as did you know keepiung him alive instead of dealing with eclipsa being free and having the comissoin to back her on it. Nice job moon. Real nice. So yeah Eclipsa’s around.. dosen’t effect this episode but given tom’s involved in two of the biggest plot important episodes in the show, AND one deals with the direct fallout of one of those episodes i’m probably going to have to cover her soon to get to more tom anyway so might as well prepare for that now. 

So yeah this episode’s entreily a straight line from last time and opens picking up on the end of that episode: Star is calling tom wondering when their gonna get that Cornshake. Thankfully she gets an answer. Unthankfully.. it’s from a VERY sweaty ponyhead. 

So that was my own personal hell. Anyways she’s so.. sweaty.. GAHHHHHHH, because she’s keeping a secret and much like me she can’t keep her mouth shut about something she wants to talk about for very long, so we find out what she knows: SHe ran into tom who swore her not to tell Star he was getting a Demoncisim. Which suprises me.. not the demoncism thing the fact Pony would actually listen to anyone else.. Star included. LIke it’s the one thing about this episode that dosen’t quite fit: She’s such a selfish, toxic asshole, though Jenny Slate bless her makes her at least entertaining at times but even she has limits, it just dosen’t track she’d care what Tom thought unless we saw it for ourselves. Pony is ONLY capable of carring about star so while I could see tom framing it as for her own good, it’d be nice if the episode just came out and said that. It’d also be nice if we didn’t get sweaty ponyhead because that’s probably someone’s fetish and I.. OH GOD. 

Okay now i’ve mentally snapped from that revelation, Star lasso’s pony when she tries to escape, and we find out the demoncism is pretty self explanatory: A cermony that removes demons from one’s body.. and given tom is you know, a demon, this could end bad. So with no idea where it’s being held and it going on now, giving them little if any time to figure it out, Star suggests going to pony’s ex.. she dosen’t remember which one and apologizes for how bitchy that sounded, but we find out it’s Seahorse, Pony’s love intrest for the rest of the series and a hardcore emo rocker who even made her a song.. which is just him destroying everything and screaming. Eh i’ve seen people in emowear do far dumber. 

If those are m and m’s their pretzel. Trust me I’m a professional lardass, I know my delcious candy coated choclates. Anyways our dynamic-ish duo head to Seahorse at his job at a relfectcor store, basically a phone store, and is basically a hollowed out shell of a human being with no real personality or free will of his own.. so THAT’S how we got Ted Cruz. Ponyhead natrually breaks down when he dosen’t recognize her at all, which is one of the few time’s i’ve actually cared about her feelings: I mean having your ex just.. forget you exist.. tha’ts rough buddy. I feel bad for her.. I didn’t know she had emotions. I thought her heart and brain were both a black hole.. mostly becasue I thought ponyhead’s hearts and brains were the same organ. Star does however manage to get the map they need to Tom. 

Our heroines find the Demonicsim site and a bunch of creepy guys in robes iwth red glowing eyes.. who are never explained honestly. More on that in a minute. So ponyhead distracts them with one of the greatest  gags in the series history

I mean just.. look at it. The way the robe drapes, the way her nose sticks out much like a certain penguins, the way she decides to distract everyone with petty minute like voting on robes.. it’s fucking great. I may not like pony a LOT but she can be really damn funny> The issues that she often isn’t funny enough to ofset her jackassery. Here though even with my jabs at her.. she works and I like it.  So Star confronts Tom, wondering AGAIN if this is another half assed tactic to win her back.. and her flip flop attitude with tom is starting to annoy me. It fits her personality, and don’t get me wrong as i’ve made abudnatnly clear in past reviews his actions in blood moon ball and ESPECIALLY mr.candle cares were super not okay, so i’ts okay NOT to forget how badly things went last time when your considering getting back together with someone. It’s NOT okay however to hold it over someone’s head forever like any moment their going to snap back into being a manipulative doucheweasel when they’ve left you alone for around 8 months.. and Id id my calcualtion. The timeline of the show is pretty solid up to season 4: Season 1 was star’s 1st semister at echo creek academy, season 2 was her second and as it turned out final one, and season 3 covers Summer , fall and part of next spring. Though again how another summer dosen’t happen until towards the end of season 4 is dumb and I’ll probably rant about that at a later point. Point is since MCC was at the start of season 2, that means it happened around say january or feburary, with Demonicsim probably happening around say march. So he’s left you alone for around 8 months, silver bell ball included. It’s unfair to assume he’s still schemeing when he let you go months ago. H’es made it obvious via his .. everything he’d take you back in an instant, he’s just being patient and not pushing it because he’s no longer as big an asshole, and trying to be respectful. Cut him a break.  Thankfully this gets put down quick with Tom explaning he wants to be better for himself: Like last time he was inspired by her trying to be better herself, and wants to.. but as we’ve established.. he dosen’t know HOW to be nice or a better person. He wasn’t raised in an enviroment that was really condusive to that as nice as his own parents are. Their the exception to the underworld being mostly dicks not the rule, as we’ll see next time. I.. can relate with my own issues with anxiety , depression and, yes, anger. I too have trouble keeping it in and hate feeling bitchy all the time or depressed and just want it to stop. I think anyone with a mental ilness just wants it to STOP to be gone and to be able to live a happy life. But there’s no magic button that fixes your issues, your traumas or your mental health like that. No pill that can fix it just ones that help ease it down to managable. And as i’ve learned the hard way YOU have to work at it, YOU have to make the effort. There’s no easy way out. And while Tom thinks htere is here, it’s very clear it’s a huge risk, and Star’s right that he shoudlnt’ go thorugh with it and that he could seriously hurt himself. But Tom’s in pain and just wants to be happy, to be normal, to be not angry anymore and I gotta tell you if , even if it was risky, there was a way to cure my depression or anger issues or anxiety, not my atuisim tha’ts part of me and not something that needs a fucking cure just more understanding and awarness, but if I could cure those other three things? I would. It’s paart of me sure but it’s a part of me I HATE. So I understand why tom’s doing this even despite the danger: because he’s at his wits end, desperate and this will help he hopes.. it can’t get WORSE, so why not? Evne if he’s wrong here i’ts hard not to understand why he’s so stubborn about it , for me at least.  Star leaves, and takes Ponycloak with her and they go to punch trees: Both to relive and because Pony hates tree. Probably because she went to tree court once and they tried to send her to tree jail. 

I mean she’ll probably get thrown back in there for this but still. Anyways the exerocisim comes. And NOW we can talk about this cult and.. while I understand why they never came back, they were really only necessary for this, I wish they had. I mean a mysterious cult with the power to restrain someone as strong as tom, acess to anti-magic chains the ONLY time we see something like this outside of the comission, and a hatred of demons includign referring to Tom as “Son of the blight” meaning they clearly hate and would destroy Wrathmelor if they could, yet also function as a perfectly legal orginzation the comission or the lucitors themselves haven’t swatted yet. There’s a LOT to unpack here they never did. The leader is also hliarious alteranting between creepy overlord and your dentist after a long apointment as a kid. But the ritual begins and it .. dosen’t go well with tom getting glowy blue lines and thrashing about.. just like me when i watched Ridciulous 6. I also felt my soul was leaving my body but that was just wishful thinking. The cultists run and star runs back to Tom and we get a truly powerful and romantic scene. Unable to free him, Star just.. holds him and is there for him as he goes through this. If she can’t help him she’ll be there for him. And it’s really touching.  We then cut to the hosptial tent at the cult, where the leader goes back to dad mode. Tom feels .. well worse, he just had surgery, as someone who had a tooth yanked out last month I can relate, and is suprised to see only one tiny soul demon as the sum of his anger. But it turns out, NOPE, being you know, the son of a rather powerful demon with a rather pwoerful b loodline, he’s FULL of them, and it woudl take 13 years to do this.. and tom’s naturally bummed because no one wants the equipvlent of having a wisdom tooth pulled a week for over a decade. Also because he now can’t get better.. but Star gently reassures him he’s already on the right track just by wanting to. As I said with most mental issues.. there’s no easy way out but it can get better if you put the work in and tom realizes.. there’s no quick way out after all. Just a long road.. but h’es not alone on it anyomore. But he at least gets a tiny demon in a jar and a toy out of the toychest for being a good boy.. and that’s nto me making shit up that’s the actual episode with him and star taking pinwheels and holding hands to Ponyhead’s annoyance. Which okay yeah they had a bad time last time I get tat Pony.. but your the last person to question ANYONE’S life decisions. Still I wish we’d had ane pisode of pony growing to accept them so we at least know WHY she’s so against it but oh well. 

Final Thoughts: This was a good one. Is it hte best the show’s put out? Probably not as the first part drags slightly but the second half at the demoncisim is just good character stuff, good comedy, and has a good payoff. I honestly like this way more on the second watch.  Though part of that is the context of the time: I admitted to being a starco shipper and having her get back with tom just felt like your standard “put a character in a relationship to complicate the main pairing” bullshit I always hate at this stage. Before anyone relaizes they like each other? Sure but at this point it was clearly just to drag things out. However with Marco getting progressivley worse and the two having good chemsitry.. I grew to like em.. and by the season finale, I just shipped all three together, before pivoting to marco and kelly. This couple grew on me for reasons w’ell geti nto as we go, even if it ended bad for reasons we’ll again get into. Oh we’ll get into them. With a knife. But yeah overall a great episode with a great concept, good character stuff, and some REALLY fucking funny gags. The show is damn good at comedy and I forget it sometimes. Next time we look at Tom, he’ll be in the background as Marco tries to help Kelly with a breakup. And sometime this month we’ll be looking at the halloween special which i’ll be watching for the very first time! So stay tuned, stay safe and Happy Halloween. 

#halloween #tomtober #tomtober 2020 #tom lucitor #star vs the forces of evil #demoncism #star butterfly #startom #lilica ponyhead #seahorse #wrathmelor lucitor #reviews

[spaceskam]

for the lovely anon, this is one of the saucier things i’ve ever written, you’re welcome. also I said guerenti but it turned into mylex. which i’ve never actually written before. and i chose to write it while watching the halloween episode of new girl. today’s a weird day isn’t it

ao3

“This is some sick form of torture.”

“Oh, c’mon, don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.”

“There is no acting in this,” Kyle groaned, but he didn’t make any move to protest as Guerin tied a blindfold over his eyes and pushed him onto his knees. “So, what’s the plan? I’m supposed to feel a bunch of random guy’s nipples and chose yours?”

“You said you could pick ‘em out of a line up.”

“To Liz! As a joke!”

“And said in front of Rosa, how bold of you,” Alex chimed in. Kyle just groaned louder and Michael just laughed, tying the blindfold a little tighter. He set his lips in a hard line and refused to smile.

“Why did she even tell you? Like, this whole situation is so fucked,” Kyle pointed out. He felt a pair of lips on his neck but he couldn’t be sure who they belonged to. Was it weird that he didn’t mind? 

“She wanted you to move on from your weird obsession with Liz,” Michael said as some outside force unbuttoned his shirt. Kyle swallowed hard. “So, we’re helping.”

“By having me pick out your nipples between you and Alex?” Kyle clarified, “You know I could do that by the amount of hair alone, right?”

“Oh, so you’ve studied the amount of chest hair we both have?” Alex asked.

“No!” Kyle insisted, rolling his eyes despite the blindfold, “But I’ve done a lot of tests on Guerin and I know he has more chest hair than you.”

“Okay, fine,” Michael said, “Then no hands.”

“No hands?” Kyle repeated.

“Nope.”

“Then how am I supposed to—Oh. Okay.”

“Is there a problem, Doc?” Michael asked, suddenly awfully close to his ear. Kyle bit down on his bottom lip and it suddenly became a whole lot harder to hide a smile.

“No, no problems.”

“Good,” Alex agreed, “Because I honestly can’t believe you agreed to this.”

“Well, in my defense, I didn’t have a lot of information. I’m still kinda putting together what’s going on. Guerin mocked me for the nipple thing and I said it wasn’t my fault and then he told me to come over to Alex’s to put it to the test,” Kyle said. Michael snorted, but used his mind to push Kyle’s shirt off his shoulder.

“Exactly, you knew this was gonna lead to fucking,” Michael said. 

“Oh, is that where this is headed?”

“Guys, you are so shit at this,” Alex laughed. Kyle heard the smack of kissing and couldn’t help but feel a little left out. Which, honestly, was strange. This was all strange. Yet, here he was, so might as well go along with it. “If you want to leave, then you can. No forcing.”

“Oh, no, I’m not leaving,” Kyle said firmly, “Who am I to back down for a challenge?”

“Okay,” Alex continued, “You know this makes me question your sexuality, right?”

“The fact that I came here in the first place when I knew it was going to get weird makes me question my own sexuality, and yet here I am, on my knees and waiting, so why are we still questioning,” Kyle answered. Michael laughed again. Kyle hadn’t actually heard him laugh before and it was a refreshing noise. Then more kissing noises happened and Kyle shifted. “Okay, I’m still here.”

“I think he wants a turn,” Michael said, but there was still kissing happening and Kyle couldn’t witness any of it. How unfair was that? “You still have to choose.”

“Well, then, come here so I can,” Kyle said.

And then there was a body in front of him and he had no idea what to do. He could hear breathing, feel the body heat radiating off the man in front of him and then another body behind him. He couldn’t really tell which was which and it made his heart beat a little harder. This was definitely the most questionable position he’d ever been in and yet he had no urge to back out.

“So... how do I... Do I just...”

The man behind him put his hands on Kyle’s head, pushing him forward. His nose hit the other guy’s sternum. Kyle breathed in deep, that distinct scent of rain filling his lungs. Instead of guessing immediately, he just tilted his head and pressed a firm kiss to Michael’s skin. Alex’s hands stayed on the back of his head and his hips pressed into his back. He swallowed hard again and gave an open mouthed kiss to Michael’s chest, slowly but surely moving towards his nipple.

As some form of reward, Alex craned to kiss his neck and moved his hands to his bare chest. Kyle parted his lips more, mimicking every move Alex made on his neck. He bit down on the sensitive skin at the same time that Alex bit on his neck and he felt Michael take a deep inhale. 

His hands clenched at his sides as he used his tongue to soothe the bite. He never thought it’d cause so much restraint to not put his hands on Michael Guerin, yet here he was. So he bit him again, kissed him again, sucked a little harder until Michael physically tensed to hold back making any noises.

“I told you, Guerin,” Kyle said, shuttering a stupidly short breath as Alex raked his hands over his chest, “I could pick you out of a line up.”

“Okay,” Michael laughed, his hands moving to take the blindfold off. Alex peeled away from his back and left him cold and more desperate than he already was. “You got me.”

Kyle moved to get to his feet for it to continue only for Alex to move in, kissing Michael with no remorse. He watched as they pressed together as close as they could and kissed sloppily, but practiced. They’d done this a million times with just them and Kyle didn’t fit.

But, God, he wanted to fit.

“I want a turn,” he said softly, trying not to feel embarrassed when they stopped kissing and turned to face him. They didn’t separate, still chest to chest as they gave him their attention with eager little smiles. So he repeated himself, firmer this time, “I want a turn.”

Michael held out his hand and Kyle moved in willingly, skipping a few steps and immediately pushing his tongue into his mouth. Alex laughed as he stood against Michael’s chest still and watched them kiss. That had Kyle’s heart racing a little faster. When Alex reached out and pressed his thumb against the sore spot on his neck, well, he could’ve had a fucking heart attack and wouldn’t be surprised.

Kyle moved his hand up the part of Michael’s chest that wasn’t taken over by Alex, digging the heal of his palm into his skin as he kissed him deeper. He understood what had Alex so hooked for so long. He couldn’t remember a time he wanted to just kiss someone so badly. He didn’t even try to hide the hurt noise he made when Alex grabbed his chin and broke the kiss.

“Oh, don’t be a baby,” Alex teased, kissing him not too unlike the way he’d kissed Michael. It was tongue and teeth and suffocating in a way that had his mind short-circuiting. He almost completely let go of Michael as he got wrapped up in Alex’s kisses, happily getting his hands on his toned body. He understood it even more. Turns out, they were both addictive.

Michael’s arms wrapped around them both, pulling them in tight as they kept kissing. His nose nudged in just a little between them before he inserted himself into the kiss, kissing Kyle just twice before focusing on Alex again. And, honestly, he couldn’t blame him. So he let himself start kissing Alex’s neck while hands roamed them both, touching whatever he could and mentally taking credit for any sound either of them made. He’d barely gotten a taste and he was obsessed. 

It was only when he absentmindedly started grinding his hips on Michael’s thigh that they both took a moment to stop and really look at him. He felt a little exposed and a little out of breath and honestly so turned on that it was beginning to hurt.

“How do you feel about your sexuality now?” Michael asked. Alex raised an eyebrow to ask the same question, his hand still mindlessly rubbing against Michael’s stubble. Somehow that’s what Kyle couldn’t stop staring at.

“I honestly couldn’t care less about my sexuality right now, I need to be fucked, like, immediately,” he admitted. Both men just smiled and laughed and Kyle didn’t mind. He liked the way they looked at him, the way they still touched each other while giving him their attention. He liked it a lot more than he ever imagined liking either of them on their own.

“We could make that happen,” Alex said.

He spent the rest of the night letting them both take him apart and having no regrets about any moment of it.

#mylex #mylex fic #kyle valenti #alex manes #michael guerin #roswell new mexico #my fic #literally what the fuck is this #anyway here you go

[madd-devil]

Warning: there is smut and bad language kids

"I fucking hate that." You greeted through your teeth as you scrubbed clothes into the river. "Why am I the one doing this kind of chores?"

"You're a girl, don't ask questions." Felix's emotionless voice said as he appeared behind you, inspecting what you have already done. "Hurry up, you have other things to do." He nudged your back with his club. 

You stood up quickly, hitting the club with your foot.

"What did you say?!" You asked, starting to be angry and tired of "you're a girl" excuses and statements.

Felix chuckled, his grey stormy eyes staring deeply into yours: you could see it clearly, he wanted a fight. Well if he wanted one, you will give the lost boy a war. You were ready, enough trained to hurt him. 

"Look at that, le petit chaton commence à montrer les griffes." 

"What was that?" You growled as you approached. 

Felix would sometimes throw things in French, his native language. He didn't have the accent anymore, unlike some centuries ago. Devin told you about it: he was unable to talk properly in English and was hard to understand but now, it was another story.

The blond haired boy rolled his eyes.

"Finish your work."

"No."

"Do it or I have to punish you." Felix said lowly.

"No!" You repeated firmly. "I am tired of being treated like… like a freaking doll! What are you all scared of? Being beat by a girl? Well good news: I can fight all of you and beat your asses." 

Felix stood quietly, observing you and contemplating your words. You were furious and he seemed to know that you were not joking around. The lost boy put his club on the ground and crossed his arms.

"What do you want? Tell me and I will speak to Pan about it."

"I want to be treated like you guys treat each other. I want to be part of the fights against the pirates and the hunts, and for God's sake, let me wear what the fuck I want to wear." You gestured to your dress. "I hate this. Not practical." 

Felix nodded at each of your demand and left when you were done.

"Take some times for yourself. I will tell a boy to finish the job." He told you before going on his way. 

Later, you were on the beach, touching the sand with your fingers, feeling at peace for once. You had taken your dager to draw some figures and drawings on the sand. You were actually bored. As you looked at the sky, the stars started to appear slowly. Your mind wandered to Felix and you didn't know why. 

Felix was an ass. He thought he was all mighty and that he could do everything because he was the second in command. But… he was somewhat beautiful… from an angle. Your eyes widened at this thought. Why were you thinking that? You didn't like Felix but you didn't hate him. He never did something against you actually. You shook your head and stood up, feeling tired and hungry. You trotted back to the camp, hands in your dress's pocket. 

The boys started to dance crazily around the bonfire and Pan was playing his flutes. As usual, Felix was sitting on a log. But this time, he glanced at you. It was weird: usually he wasn't looking at you when you came back. You didn't know how to interpret it so you just looked elsewhere. 

You entered your tent, putting your dagger and sword on the small table. You started to undress slowly and with a bit of difficulty. As soon as the dress was on the ground, you bent down and took it to fold it.

"Oh la vache." You heard behind you. 

With red cheeks, you stood up quickly and turned around. It was Felix. Of course it was Felix. No one speaks French like Felix. He was looking at your body, thankfully you weren't naked.

"GET OUT!" You yelled as you tried to find something to cover you with.

Luckily, nobody could hear you outside.

"I am sorry." Felix said simply with a smirk. "That view was very lovely." 

"Felix!" You screamed back at him. 

"Fine." He turned around, facing the entrance of your tent. "Pan have accepted your demands. Put new clothes in your closet. Be ready to wake up early tomorrow. I am taking you to take the traps." 

You nodded silently, clutching on a blanket, covering your nearly naked body. 

"Thank you." You whispered.

"Also, Pan wanted me to tell you he will speak to you tomorrow morning. You… You have to get ready." He announced. "I will wake you up and after that little discussion with Pan, we will get the traps."

You watched as he left and frowned: you had detected worry in his voice. What did Pan wanted to do to you? You sighed. Boys were so secretive, worse than girls. 

"You want me to do what?!" 

Peter Pan put a finger on his lips with a smirk hushing you quickly. 

"Careful love, I don't want my boys to wake up to a screeching banshee." 

"I am not in the mood for nicknames Pan!" You said aggressively. 

He rolled his eyes while eating his breakfast. You were hungry and was also ready to steal what he had in his plate, but it wasn't the question now. 

"So did you understand everything for your trial?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You want me to take the heart of a lost boy and crush it in front of everyone." You repeated simply, looking at your hands. "But how I would be able to do that?"

"Oh do not worry. You will be able to. Trust me. This will be so much fun!" He added with a laugh. "I will let you choose your victim and tonight, you will kill him."

"Won't the boys be angry at me?" You asked, a bit worried.

"Maybe, maybe not. Now, go on your merry way and have fun with Felix."

You growled as you left the king of Neverland alone, enjoying his breakfast and your tormented mind. You rubbed your arms together, walking to where Felix was supposed to meet you at. You didn't know if you were capable of this. You wanted the boys so badly to accept you as one of them but were you ready to kill for it. You stopped in your tracks. Were you a murderer like them? 

"Come on poupée. We don't have all day." Felix told you as he jumped down from a tree. 

"Stop calling me those sweet nicknames of yours or I will start doing the same!" You threatened as both of you started to walk in the Dark Jungle.

"Really? I don't believe you."

You smirked as you looked up to him.

"Let's go, Goldilocks." 

Felix opened his mouth to reply but no sound came from it. He was astonished. You smirked once again, happy and made a small mental dance of victory in your head. 

Soon, you two took all the dead animals from the trap and brought them back to camp. On the way back, Felix questioned you about your meeting with the leader of the lost ones.

"We just talked."

"He spoke to me yesterday. He told me he wanted to put you through some kind of trial." Felix explained. "I don't think you need one tho."

You stopped walking, surprised by this statement and glanced at Felix. He stopped walking too and was now looking at you. It was not a cold hard look but… a rather soft one.

"Wait… so you believe…"

"I believe you're enough to be treated like any boy of this island." Felix smiled (again not a cruel smile or a smirk: a genuine smile). "You're even smarter, stronger and quicker than the vast majority of the boys."

You smiled too and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, your face blushing a bit. 

"Let's go." Felix said, breaking the comfortable silence. 

You thought all day about Felix's smile, sweet voice and gentle look and what he said about you. You were happy than at least one boy thought that way and you were glad it was him. You didn't know why, but you started to be more… attracted to him now. You were always observing him while training, barely forgetting your trial and your horrible choice. But Pan was there to remind you luckily. 

So you started weighing your options: you couldn't possibly kill one of the smallest lost boys, they were kind of cute, even if you have witnessed them playing around and killing a pirate. The oldest were actually nice if given the occasion. They didn't bother you at all. Just giving orders and training all day: nothing wrong with them. Then, you immediately knew who you would kill in some hours. 

His name was Clinton and he was a sick son of a bitch. 

You knew he always tried to see you naked, and you hated the way his eyes watched you. He thought he was all powerful because he was friend with Felix and Peter Pan. You had witnessed him beating Devin black and blue (Felix had to intervene and when asked the reason of this beating, the boy answered with a sick smile that Devin was staring too much) and Clinton even dared to lay an hand on you (you didn't wish to know the reason why). Will it upset Pan and Felix to know that she killed Clinton? Hopefully no. But why wait until the night? Why not now? He was literally a trash. But you didn't want to disobey Pan so you kept to yourself. 

The night came and you had all finished eating. Clinton was standing near a tree, observing the others doing their own things. You felt Pan's eyes on you and Felix's one too. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You could do it. It won't be unfair and unjustified: Clinton was an ass to everyone. 

You stood up, walking toward him. The boys wasn't watching, too preoccupied fixing weapons and talking. You approached Clinton who smirked at you.

"Hello beautiful."

You cringed at this nickname but didn't show it. You kept a stern face. You didn't need to show emotions and feelings right now. Pan was watching. He wanted to know if you were capable of killing someone willingly.

"What do you want (Y/N)?" He asked, raising his eyebrows, a dirty mind in head. "A kiss perhaps."

"No. Your heart." You replied simply.

You extended your arm and plunged your hand into his torso, searching for the beating little red member. Once you found it, you retrieved your hand. Clinton fell on the ground harshly, yelling atrocities and curses. He was in great pain and somehow you loved it.

You clutched on his heart harder and harder. Clinton was suffering and nobody made a move against what you were doing. You glanced at Felix. He didn't seem shocked nor proud, but Pan was indeed proud and smirked like a Cheshire cat. 

You clutched the heart one last time and it turned to dust. Clinton stopped yelling, screaming, crying and moving. He was laying there. You threw the heart's dust in the fire, starting at it, feeling suddenly empty. You had done it. You completed your trial.

Pan appeared next you, putting his arm around your shoulder and declared with a loud voice:

"Lost boys, this is your sister! Treat her like you treat each other!" 

The boys cheered and as soon as Pan played his pipes, they started dancing. They tried to lead you into it but you didn't feel like it. You needed some time alone so you returned to the forest.

You started to run into it, tears rolling down your cheeks, finally realising what you have done to Clinton. You immediately regretted it when you killed him. You stopped near a small lake, in some secret place. You sat down on the soft grass, bright blue butterflies flying around and you started to cry, your head in your hands. It was ugly crying. You were sobbing like a baby. You heard some noises some time after and turned your head to the left. 

"Who is there?!" You asked rudely. "I want to be left alone!"

"It's only me." 

Of course it was. Felix walked in without weapon and without cloak. He looked down at you with sad eyes.

"Are you alright?"

You huffed at his question.

"Do I look okay Goldie?!" You said back.

"No you don't. But you got what you wanted: you are now fully part of the lost boys!"

"But I had to murder someone. I took Clinton's place." You cried. 

"Pan was planning to kill him." 

You looked up once again, confused.

"What?" You asked.

"Pan would have killed him tomorrow. He was being too troublesome." Felix answered as he sat down next to you. 

"Oh." You simply replied as you stared at a butterfly on a flower.

There was a silence. Not an uncomfortable one luckily. You could feel Felix's eyes on you.

"You're very beautiful." The blond haired boy whispered softly.

You blushed and tried to not stare at him but not to avail. You took a glimpse of him and felt your body starting to warm up. You closed your eyes. Love. Desire. Lust. You had felt that twice in your teenage years, before going to Neverland (well it was more of a mistake…) but with Felix… It was warmer, it was more… meaningful and powerful. 

"You're not that bad looking." You stuttered back. 

Felix smiled and laid down on the grass. You took your time to observe him. He was handsome. He was hot. He was everything you ever looked in for a partner. 

You loved him. The reality slapped you. And you knew he liked you too. You knew it. You loved him and wanted to make him yours right now.

You went on top of him, surprising the boy. You caressed his face gently before kissing him on the spot. His lips were warm and soft, you didn't think they were this way. You felt Felix rough hands gripping your waist as you kissed him.

You separated and you missed his lips already. The lost boy had this lovestruck smirk on his face and you had to admit, he looked like an angel in the moonlight.

You helped him remove his shirt and saw his torso, covered in scars, small, large, big ones. You lightly traced them with your fingers, caressing them. 

"Where did you get them?" You asked softly.

Felix shrugged as he passed his hand in your hair.

"Fights mainly." 

You nodded with a soft hum and kissed him once again but this time, harder and tougher. Felix gripped on your hair and you stopped your actions.

"Dude that fucking hurt!" You said as you glared at him.

"Sorry, sorry…" Felix chuckled. "Some girls like it when it hurts."

You rolled your eyes, pushed him against the ground again and kissed him. You felt his hands removing the laces that was holding your dress on your body and you stood up, letting it fall on the grass. Felix stood up too and you realised how tall and muscular he was compared to you. 

"Enjoying the view?" 

"You have no idea." Felix replied as he moved you against a tree. 

His hands reached to your breasts and helped you remove your handmade bra. His hands softly touched them and his lips attacked your neck, then slowly descended your torso, until the hem of your underwear. He looked up to you, on his knees, and you nodded. He lowered your panty and you started to laid down again on the grass. 

His mouth attacked your private area, he was licking and nibbling on it and you started to moan. Your hands immediately went into his dirty blonde hair. 

"Oh fuck Felix." You moaned.

He raised his head and stared deeply into your eyes, his own eyes were filled with lust and envy for you. He removed the last pieces of his clothing and you two were now naked and hot. The plan was clear. 

Your lips smashed into his, as you started to ride him. His hands travelled to your breasts and he kneaded them. 

"Princesse, tu me rends fou!" Felix moaned. "Fou d'amour pour toi, juste pour toi!"

You didn't understand what he had told you but you were certain it was something sweet. Felix flipped you over and you were now underneath him, and Felix was rougher than before. He pinned your hands above your head with one hand and used the other one to make you lick his fingers. 

"Fuck bébé, I am so close!"

"Felix me too, I fucking need you!" 

You got your climax not long after and Felix went out before he could cum inside of you. He finished on your stomach and he dropped next you, breathing heavily. 

You two were trying to catch your breathes after this intense moment. You started to chuckle and Felix did to.

"Oh God if Pan knows of it, he is going to kill us." You said.

"Yeah. We should go back to camp." Felix replied. "But, we really need to shower before."

"Indeed." 

"And I won't mind a second round in the water." The boy smirked as he winked at you. 

#felix ouat

[ellana-ravenwood]

A fitting name - Dick Grayson x Reader

Summary : You’re dating Dick Grayson, aka Nightwing, and contrary to popular belief...he ISN’T always that happy-go-lucky people think he is. Actually, you’d even go to the extend to say that he was a moody bitch sometimes.

This story has been sitting in my draft for a while, but every time I did a vote about which one you wanted to see next...it lost by a landslide. This time however, it won by ONE vote haha, so bam here it is, hope you’ll like it :

My masterlist blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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                                                       ******

It had been going on for a while already. And it all started over such a silly thing...A few months ago, out on a mission, you got badly injured. But you were finally back on your feet and ready to go out there again.

Well, it was without counting on your boyfriend, who suddenly decided to become overprotective of you ! Usually, you wouldn’t have mind. In fact, you would have thought it was pretty darn cute, how he wanted to make sure you were alright. Showed that he cared. A lot.

Only problem was : you weren’t particularly known for your patience, and he was REALLY insisting on you staying behind, ignoring all your comments about being completely fine and healthy. 

Things escalated quickly, as you got vexed he didn’t think you were ready. But also got angry that he was basically ordering you to stay home ! How dare he ! Who was he to order you around like that ?! If you wanted to go, then you would go ! 

So you rose your voice a little bit. Because he was being unreasonable, and too damn controlling. He knew you hated that. 

Only that got him to raise his own voice too, and then just like that...You were yelling at each others, not quite sure how the hell it got that far. 

Well, “not quite sure”. 

You actually knew what happened. You were calm at first, and only started to get angry because he was getting angry. And though you knew his anger could suddenly blow out, and you probably should have had defused things instead of pushing him...Well, you just weren’t about to let anyone walk on your feet, even if it was him ! And even if everything started with the best intentions ! 

Sure it was cute that he wanted to protect you, but you didn’t need his protection right now, you needed his trust in believing that you were alright and ready to go back on the field !! 

In fact, after months of convalescence and feeling like you were useless, his support was essential to you ! He had been so great in reassuring you and nursing you back to health, you were so sure he’d keep going on that way. 

But his fear of loosing you, and his worries got the best of him. And here he was, bitching that you “never listened to him” while it wasn’t the truth...Oh but Dick Grayson was often very unfair, when he started to get irrationally angry. And his mouth often ran faster than his brain. 

“Oh my God, sometimes, your name fits you perfectly !” 

You shouted at him, and he looked at you and oh how fucking dare he roll his eyes at you like that ?! It made you even angrier, as he said : 

“What are you on about ?!”

“Your name, it’s a perfect fit.”

“What ? Why ?!” 

“Because you’re being such a dick ! And a dumb one at that, who can’t seem to remember his own damn name !” 

“Don’t call me dumb, you’re the one being stupid right now !”

“And you’re acting like a child !”

“I’m not ! You’re just so...STUBBORN !” 

“I wouldn’t be if you weren’t being a jerk !” 

“How am I being a je...I just want you to be safe !” 

“I earned my place here as much as anyone else ! Also, I could break you like a twig so pluh-ease !” 

“Well I never said you couldn’t ! But you’re still healing !” 

“I’m fine ! Do you really think I’d come if I thought I could be a liability to the team somehow ?!” 

“I never said you would, stop twisting my words !” 

“You implied it when you didn’t fucking drop it !” 

“I would have if you weren’t being so damn stubborn and pushed all my buttons on purpose !” 

“You pushed your own buttons buddy, getting all worked up like that.” 

“Don’t be condescending.” 

“Don’t be such a dick !” 

“I...You...They...I...GGGRROOOAAAH !!” 

Dick yelled, throwing his hands in the air out of frustration. And pacing back and forth in front of you, grumbling a little more and shaking his head in annoyance. 

You knew what had just happened, he had just reached his “too mad to find words to answer you” phase. Which meant that any seconds now, he was going to...Yup, and here he goes, leaving the room in a fury, barking a “let’s go” to the rest of the team. 

The rest of the team. 

The Young Justice. 

The future of heroes. 

And right now, they were all staring at you, utterly shocked. You were pretty sure they never seemed so confused before, not even when you guys got caught up in some pretty shady multi-dimensional shenanigans. 

Still annoyed to no end by your boyfriend’s behavior, you glared at them and asked, a bit harshly :  

“What ?!” 

They all took a step back (survival instinct), and you realized maybe you should take it down a notch. They didn’t do anything, after all. 

There was an awkward silence, and you were about to apologize when Dick came back in and yells : 

“ARE YOU GUYS COMING OR NOT ?!” 

Before rushing back out with angry steps, groaning some more unintelligible words as he leaves. And you knew your friends must be completely dumbfounded when none of them even retorted anything back, while many of those guys would usually not take someone’s shit like that. 

They just walked out of the room towards the plane that’ll take them to their next mission (Dick is already starting it up, well guess he’ll be the captain today...), and kept a bit of distance with you. 

Except for Wally and Artemis who fell back behind with you. The archer asked : 

“Are you ok ?”

“Yes, why wouldn’t I be ?” 

There was still a little bite in your words, but they knew better than to take offense to it. Especially after what they just witnessed. Wally said : 

“It’s just...this all kind of came out of nowhere ? He was all nice and all, worried about you and so sweet it made my teeth rot, and then all of a sudden BAM ! He got super angry because you were adamant you wouldn’t stay behind. Like you just walked on a mine or something.”

“Yeah well, he does that. Things trigger him and he explodes. Nothing new really. He’ll calm down just as fast, and will realize how stupid he’s just been and apologize. I probably should say sorry too...I did push his buttons on purpose because he was getting on my nerves...” 

There was a small silence as you’re almost to the plane, and both Wally and Artemis slowed down. Out of reflex, you slowed too and gave them a curious look. 

“Why are we stoping ?” 

You asked with your normal tone, as if nothing just happened. As if you and your boyfriend didn’t just yell at each others for the past ten minutes. As if all this was quite a regular occurrence really, and you were already so over it. As if this small talk with them calmed you down. Artemis was the first one to speak : 

“What do you mean “he does that” ? I’ve never EVER seen Dick mad. I mean, I’ve seen him get angry during fights, but we all do that. This back there, that was something else. I always pictured him as that calm smiley guy, who has jokes ready in the most desperate of situations so...” 

Ah. So that is it huh ? Evidently, your friends haven’t been around Dick long enough to truly see some of his ridiculous outbursts of anger. Or rather, they weren’t ALWAYS with him like you were..

Well, it made sense really. When you guys were hanging out with the team, it was either to go on missions or to have fun. And to be honest, some other easily angered members definitely stole Dick’s spotlight when it came to it. 

Conner, for example, used to always be angry or annoyed, and had difficulties to control himself. Dick felt compelled to behave in those cases, to crack jokes to loosen the atmosphere and such. So of course they never really saw him get mad, and thought he was just that happy-go-lucky guy. 

Like Artemis said, he got angry sometimes on missions, but that’s something that indeed happened to all of you. If a plan was going south, if a friend was hurt, if the villain was particularly despicable...So it also made sense they never really took notice of the rage Dick could find himself in. 

Which kind of makes you roll your eyes. Really hard. You say : 

“Ah, well of course you’d think that of him. But let me tell you guys, sometimes, Nightwing can truly be a moody bitch !” 

“Hey ! I heard that !”

Dick yelled, turning around in his seat at the front of the plane. You just stuck your tongue out at him, which ended up annoying him further (as you knew it would), but he was already so far in his anger that he didn’t even bother to answer and instead smashed some buttons and got the plane off and on to the mission. 

He knew he was being stupid right now, that he should calm down and that all this was just silly. That you were right, you were ready, and he should just accept that. But he was just so afraid of loosing you, and when you wouldn’t listen and stay back a little longer...He lost it. 

He simply lost it. Because he cared too much. That was one of his biggest problem, and a constant source of burst of angers, really. 

He turned around to you, but you were resolutely looking elsewhere, nose in the air, purposefully ignoring him. Which riled him up some more. He sped the plane up, and suddenly, he just couldn’t WAIT to get on with this mission !

Kicking some asses would help him relax...

************ 

It always surprised you, when people thought Dick was that always positive guy who never got angry and cracked jokes instead. 

That guy who, when he was on the verge of anger, would just smile and say something witty. 

That guy that just didn’t know the meaning of the word “furious”, because he always just danced around it by laughing infuriatingly and smiling in the face of whatever could make him mad ! 

Because oh, oh did they ignore a big part of his personality by thinking that !

Well, that wasn’t quite right. It is true that a lot of time, Dick was able to hold back his anger and be that happy-go-lucky person everyone thought they knew. And he did have a higher stamina against people trying to make him angry. Plus, he was definitely seeing the world in a more positive light. 

He had to, because otherwise he would fall into an bottomless pit of depression. Bruce always nursed this overly positive side in his son, because he tried more than anything to lead his boy onto another path than his. Because he didn’t want Dick to end up like him. 

So yes. Dick Grayson was a cheerful guy, who always had a good joke and on whom you could count on to turn your frown upside down in tough moments. 

But on some topics ? In certain situations ? Oh the man could loose it very fast ! Like with you, when you refused to “stay safe”. When his fear of something happening to you turned into pure anger and he was unable to control himself. 

But of course, you guess rare would be the people to actually witness such outbursts, right ? You had to be pretty darn close to him, to see it. To truly understand him. 

It’s true that, much like his father figure, his beloved mentor, the Batman himself, Dick often hid behind a mask when in public. Even with with friends. Because it was easier to play a part, sometimes, than to show his true nature and his true self. 

It was self-preservation really. Dick Grayson had suffered enough in his life, that of course he would build up some walls around him and protect his heart. He often pushed people away, like that. At school, he used to be a “loner” because it was easier to not make friends, stay alone and not get hurt when he’d ultimately lose them...Again, just like the man he came to call “dad”. 

Very few people actually managed to break his shell. 

So rare were the people to see this darker side of him. To see him throw tantrums or get irrationally mad over things that shouldn’t matter so much. 

But still, sometimes, you were wondering how the hell some people never even suspected that he could get like that. 

Like Superman for example, the guy knew him since he was a child, and yet always seemed very shocked whenever Dick acted out, saying stupid things like : “Jason/Damian, get out of Dick’s body !” and such. 

Which by the way, annoyed Dick even more. 

He hated whenever someone implied that only his two younger brothers had anger issues in the family. Because they ALL had anger issues. Hell, he saw Tim truly mad a few times, and it was absolutely terrifying. 

But both Jason and Damian were loud and needed so much attention...Of course they’d gain this reputation of being “the angry Robin”, while really, this title should have fell on Dick Grayson.

After all, he was the only one who decided to leave Bruce mainly because of his anger. Well, Jason “left” too but it wasn’t quite the same was it ? He was suppose to be dead, but got resurrected and then decided not to come back home right away, as he was angry towards his father.

Jason’s infamous anger towards his dad is what got him the “angry Robin” nickname, but he had every rights to be angry. And except for the feud he had with his father, and the shock his death and revival had on him, making him more violent than before...Jason was actually a pretty chill dude. 

He had a lot of confidence issues, so no insult ever phased him much as nothing could be worst of what he thought of himself. And in recent years, he even tamed down his killing spree and anger and...Well it was actually rare to see Jason Todd genuinely angry. 

He would bicker away with his father and brothers, but it seemed like recently, he had come back to how he used to be : it was very difficult to truly annoy him. To rile him up. To make him angry. 

Because the only thing that ever truly angered Jason Todd, was the fact that Bruce didn’t kill the Joker...And he had been able to move past that. Nowadays, to get a reaction out of him if you tried to annoy him, would be quite impossible. 

But Dick ? Oh if you knew what triggered him, you could send him in such fury ! He destroyed his room more than once, in his teen years, out of frustration.

When something unjust happened, mainly. Like him getting scolded by Bruce while he was sure he didn’t deserve it, or things like that. 

Talking about Bruce...Did no one ever wonder why Dick, in his late teen years, decided to leave his home ? Did no one ever wonder why he dropped the “Robin” mantel to take on the “Nightwing” one ?  (Important Author’s note : there’s different origin stories, of course. “Comic books” ya know, things always change. The original reason why Dick left was that he got shot in the shoulder by the fucking Joker (always him) and Bruce was like “you should quit being Robin”, and Dick got angry and was like : “Hell no dude” and left to join the Titans, becoming later on “Nightwing”...this is a extremely SUMMARIZED version of the original story but, basically that. While I’m using the “Batman : The Animated series” version + what kind of became canon later on, where Dick left because he didn’t agree with Bruce’s methods (again, summarized). I’m using this Nightwing “origin story” mainly because 1. I like it better, 2. it fits better with the story I’m writing right now and 3. It gives Bruce and Dick a nice “growing up and learning” arc, ok, we can carry on with the story now. But a big thing to remember is that in almost every single origin stories, what prompted Dick to become Nightwing was the fact that he was angry. Just thought this was an “important” note...or maybe it wasn’t and I’m just once again blabbering about comics).

Did they think Bruce was just letting his son grow up on his own for a bit, and become his own person and all ? Control freak Batman ? Letting go of his precious son on purpose ? Right. Fat chance. 

No. No the truth was something else. 

And to you, who was one of the person who knew Dick the best, it definitely made sense. 

************

Your boyfriend grew up alongside Bruce. Alongside Batman.

People often forgot how young Bruce was, when he took Dick as his ward. How inexperienced at being a father figure he was, and how lost he still was over so many things. At the time, they were both learning.

When Bruce took him as his ward, he had not been Batman for very long, and he still saw his crusade as a war. Not figuratively. Bruce saw himself as a soldier. At this point, the Bat outfit was just a gimmick to catch his enemies off-guard and give them something to recognize. And to fear.

Enemies.

Bruce saw criminals as enemy combatants. That's exactly how he treated them, except that he avoided killing as much as possible. 

Dick was never really on board with the anger and the darkness. He was trying to help people who needed it.

Bruce was trying to hurt those who deserved it. It was a way to escape his pain, and in the beginning, he definitely enjoyed giving them pain. His own pain, at the time, was still festering inside him, and the only way he knew how to cope was to hurt those he deemed guilty. 

While both Bruce and Dick fought the same fight, that difference in approach became too much to tolerate on a regular basis. And as Dick grew up and began to think for himself more and more, things broke. 

It is noteworthy to also mention that Bruce was accustomed to acting alone, with no one questioning his actions or his motives. But as Dick got older, he started to question everything. Loudly.

And he was right.

For Bruce, it was too much at the time. He always hated being wrong, so when he was faced with the truth by his own son...It was too much. 

Wether Robin quit or was “fired” is still unclear (author’s note : read that as in “it HIGHLY varies depending on who writes the story so I’d rather not take a side as I like both explanation and the fact it has an “obscure area”), the basic facts remain : Bruce delivered an ultimatum. Dick could fall in line or get out. 

Dick chose to get out.

There was a lot of anger on both sides.

And it ended with Dick going away for a while. Which was a good thing at the time. For both of them. He came back later knowing what he wanted, with a new name and a new costume, and ready to face Bruce and this time, stay until he changes his mind. 

Only a big fight wasn’t necessary. When Dick came back, Bruce had already realized on his own, as he was left alone once more, that he had lost his way. 

He decided the “no kill rule” for sure at that time. And instead of punishing Gotham, he started to protect it. This was made obvious by how he taught the “Robin job” to Jason, Tim or Damian. 

And this was all because Dick Grayson got mad at him. 

Eventually, they mended pieces together and Dick calmed down, after a long time being angry at his mentor (though always respecting and loving him). It’s Jason’s death, and how devastating it was for Bruce that brought Dick back. It’s that confirmation, when Bruce didn’t kill his son’s murderer, and how much it hit him hard that finally calmed Dick’s anger and made him come back home...

And this anger ? The reason why he was angry ? It’s a main source of why still nowadays Dick Grayson gets angry. 

He has always cared too much. Now he’d say “you can’t ever care too much”, but in his case, you really can. Because sometimes, he feels so much, he loves so strongly, that he doesn’t think straight.

And damn can he hold a grudge !

Now, in this particular case, Dick’s anger was justified. And it changed a lot of things in the Bat’s life, for the better. But it isn’t because that one time Dick got super angry for a reason (and dragged his anger for years, by the way...you always thought that it was a little too extra, the way he was mad for so long, though you understood...but just that in itself should make people see that Dick had a darker side ?), that he never got angry for the most ridiculous things ! 

************

There was two kind of angers, with Dick. The first one, was the reason he got mad at Bruce. The fact that he cared too much. An easy example : 

You met Dick in a peculiar situation. 

Well, maybe it wasn’t so peculiar for a city like Gotham.

It happened a normal morning, as you were on your way to school. You were late because you had to get your little brother to primary school first, as your parents were already at work since the sun came up…Nothing unusual really, you were used to have much more responsibilities than a young 13 years old should have. It never really bothered you though, as you knew no other ways.

You were running through the streets, hoping to make it in time and…Yeah, you never made it to school that day.

As you were only a few blocks away from it, you found yourself in the middle of total mayhem. You have no idea what really happened, but you remember little bits of it. 

You and a few other civilians getting stuck in between Batman, Robin, and a bunch of villains. You barely remember Batman and Robin able to put everyone on the side safely, but you not paying attention, worried about being late, and walking right towards the commotion. 

Then you only remember flashes of things. 

You almost getting chomped on by Killer Croc, and holding your arms up reflexively and then all of a sudden you were down on your ass, Killer Croc was passed out in the street, and everyone was staring at you. 

Next thing you know Batman grabs you by the arm delicately, gets you back up on your feet and tells you « follow me, and cover your face » and so…you did exactly that. 

What else was there to do ? He was the goddamn Batman, of course you were gonna listen !! You climbed in the Batmobile, floating in a weird dazed, not sure if this was real life or a wacky dream. 

The windows were blacked out, and you couldn’t see a thing, but after a short drive, the back door opened again on Batman and Robin, and you were in...the Batcave ? 

Everything was so crazy. Everything was going so fast. That day was still a blur, and forever will be. Which was kind of sad, considering it was the day you met the love of your life. 

Dick was very reassuring, and smiled a lot. It’s all you could really remember of him that day. 

Of course you knew him only as “Robin” at the time. You had no idea who they really were, and Bruce didn’t trust you enough yet to tell you. 

But he still brought you back to the Batcave, which was a big deal. According to Dick, you were the first person outside of him, Batman and Al...Penny1 (whoever that was) to come down there. Of course, you had absolutely no idea where it was exactly, but it was still pretty cool. 

That first day, Bruce didn’t brusque you or anything. He just made sure you were alright, and when he saw you didn’t remember everything, send you back on your way...

You discovered later, when the shock of what happened finally wore down, why Bruce brought you back there. As the Batman himself, and his trusted Robin (who was smiling a lot) came back for you to bring you again to the Batcave.

And that’s when your world was turned upside down, as Bruce revealed to you that you were...a meta-human.

A few quick research on you (you gave your real name to Batman when he asked, not able to think straight), and Bruce discovered that your father adopted you. Your mom was your biological mom, but...WHAT ?!

You didn’t even know your dad wasn’t really your dad. That your mom had you prior to meeting him. Well, you were barely one year old when they got together, and he became the only father you ever knew. But this was quite a shock ! 

You remember Dick scolding Bruce for telling you the news so abruptly...But Bruce had his reasons. Because out there ? In the streets ? Faced with Killer Croc ? You did something, and it was impressive. 

You “repulsed” him with lightnings ! But when Bruce asked you further questions, it was clear that this was the first time it ever happened ! You were so lost, and so shocked...Thanks to Dick bringing back Bruce to the “real world” and telling him that you were just a kid, things got easier. 

Bruce apologized, and said he would do further researches to know who your real father was. Only if you wanted to. But hey, you had just basically fried Killer Croc (he owed it only to his thick crocodile skin to not have burned alive really) and this new power was scary, so yes, you definitely wanted to know who your dad was !

Over the next few weeks, you came back often to the Batcave, after school. To train. To try and learn your power. At first, nothing would happen. 

Bruce quickly understood that your powers needed to be triggered to work, and threw a harsh assault on you ! It got you knocked on your ass, but also made some sparks ! Quite literally ! 

But this little event ? It’s what made you discover the first kind of anger Dick Grayson could feel. 

The one that happens because he cares too much. The one that happens because he couldn’t bare to let anyone get hurt. 

In a matter of seconds Dick was between you and Bruce and yelling at his mentor. See, when he got hurt during training, it was alright. Because he knew what he got himself into, and he wanted to get better. But seeing you, a new friend, getting hurt like that ? It drove him nuts (years later, when Bruce got a little too rough with Jason, Tim or Damian, Dick would enter this same kind of anger, and yell at his mentor for his harsh ways, getting angry because he dared to hurt his little brothers). 

You didn’t even have time to get back on your feet and say you were fine, as your lightning protected you, that Dick was already yelling at Bruce to be more careful and blahblahblah !

He went from 0 to 100 so fast ! And evidently, Bruce was already used to it because he stayed calm and endured the scolding, the way Dick grew angrier by the second until he became unable to find words anymore and just groaned and threw things around. 

It was...Kind of scary. And very shocking. Up until now, Dick was that guy who smiled a lot, said stupid jokes and was in HUGE contrasts with his mentor. Night and day really. But there, as you witnessed him get utterly angry ? 

You understood that there was much more to Dick Grayson than the eyes met. 

And along the years, you realized that you were definitely right. 

From that day and on, you and him grew closer and closer, up until you fell in love. It was just natural, you got each others the most. You were the only one to see him for who he really was, and vice versa. And sure sometimes it was...”electric” between you two, as you fought and such, but nonetheless your love was pure and intense. And unbreakable. 

You grew next to him, and Bruce. You discovered that you were the Northern God Thor’s daughter and...Oh. But that was another story. For another day. Right now, as Artemis and Wally seemed shocked that you revealed that Dick gets angry quite regularly, your thoughts went back to what triggered him and turned him into a jerk sometimes. 

************

This first kind of anger actually happened rather often. And the main trigger of it would be a friend of his being hurt, while he’s in charge of things...

Dick, because he was Bruce’s first ward, first student, and was raised quite strictly (a bit too strictly at times, Bruce realized later), was often thrown in the “leader” seat. 

But he hated it. 

He always hated being the one people followed. He much preferred being a “side-kick” if he was perfectly honest. Someone who was there to support the one with responsibilities, to have their back, to make sure things run smoothly...he hated being the one in charge. Which is why nowadays, except if forced to, he was always the one to “follow orders”, the one that listened to Tim (mainly), and oh man he really didn’t want to take the Batman mantel. Too many responsibilities ! He always thought it would fit Jason, Tim and Damian better (plus they actually WANTED to become Batman, while Dick...but maybe that’s the reason why Dick would actually be the best Batman ?). 

Whenever he found himself in the leader’s seat, there was a clear shift in Dick’s personality. A shift that yet nobody ever noticed...Except for you (that’s why you guys fell so hard for each others, you were always reading each others’ perfectly). 

If he was there to help out, he would be the one to release some pressure by cracking jokes, making everyone feel better by acting as if he doesn’t take anything seriously...but if he was the leader ? He was serious, disciplinarian, and focused. 

It hasn’t always been like that, he told you. 

He used to be cheerful in the leader role too...but every time someone got badly hurt. Because nobody takes a guy who jokes that often seriously, and sometimes it lead to disaster. 

So now, if the life of everyone was weighting on his shoulders, he wouldn’t be “cheerful”. Then again, no one ever really noticed that shift because it was “normal” for them for him to be more serious, but when you knew Dick, the entire reasoning behind this was heartbreaking, really. 

Dick got incredibly angry, when he failed as a leader. When he couldn’t keep up. 

He punched more than one hole in Wayne Manor’s walls. He trained way too hard out of frustration often. Angry at himself, at his failures. 

Once again, this anger came from caring “too much”. From wanting to help, and save everyone, even if realistically, it isn’t possible. 

It came from his “positive side”, a bit naive. 

And those outburst of anger when something bad happened, when a plan failed or anything of the like ? They were shockingly violent. He would destroy things, and scream at anyone who’d try to comfort him, not able to think straight (Bruce discovered that the best thing to do was to wait for him to calm down, before taking his mind off of it all by some more “fun” training...Like playing basketball, for example). 

Once again, running his mouth faster than his brain worked. Not realizing he could be a total jerk. And being totally imprisoned within his own anger. 

Bruce and you came to know how to deal with him when he was like that. And to be honest, he mainly got like that only around you and Bruce anyway, as he often just went away to release his anger, knowing how he could get. 

Which is why people didn’t know how angry he could get. But oh man when one of this “fit” started, it was difficult to defuse. And sometimes, you didn’t even want to defuse it, because man could he be such a jerk ! He could say such hurtful things too, deflecting his own failures on others...He would always apologize of course, and with age he got better, but he could really be harsh, when stuck in this kind of anger. 

He just cared so much, he couldn’t accept failures ! Or not being able to help or something of the like ! 

Which is what happened today, when he got angry at you for wanting to come on the mission. Fear for your life. Fear that something would happen to you. Which turned into anger when he realized you weren’t going to listen to him and come, and that he was powerless to keep you safe. 

Feeling powerless, would usually do the trick. Make him vent, and let out his frustration. When he first arrived at Wayne Manor, little 8 years old him often got angry at Bruce because of this. 

Because he felt he couldn’t save his parents, and he was mad that someone like Bruce, who could have, didn’t do anything ! Of course he knew this wasn’t quite what happened...but still, he would get angry and throw tantrums, destroying everything in his room, and yelling at Bruce that he hated him. 

Bruce let him. Because he knew the pain he was going through, and because he knew he needed someone to blame. As he grew up, Dick calmed down about this, but would still get incredibly angry when he felt powerless. 

Or when something unjust would happen, as stated before...

All of that, was the first type of his anger. 

The one you understood, and was more forgiving of. 

The one that people caught glimpse of sometimes, on the battlefield and whatnot, but never took as “Dick Grayson often gets angry and isn’t always that happy-go-lucky guy we think he is”. 

That first type of anger, wasn’t quite irrational. It could get a bit ridiculous, because Dick had no limits in his anger, and would enter huge rage...But it was born from something you could understand. 

Feeling powerless. Seeing people he loves get hurt. Not being able to protect them. Failing. Being frustrated by injustices. Wanting to protect. 

************

Now the second type of anger he would go through though ? That was the one that actually drove you crazy at times. The one that made you want to slap him and that made you incredible petty in return. 

The problem with Dick Grayson was that no matter what he says, he is a pretty cocky person. A lot like Bruce really. Pretentious at times, sure of himself. 

And of course he has big moments of doubts, but he also knows his worth. He knows he’s good. He knows he’s smart. He knows he’s not just a regular guy. So when someone hurts his pride ? He can get a bit...moody. 

He’s a terribly sore looser. He will often say “pff, it’s just a game !” if he loses at something, while actually fuming inside. And if you tease him about it a bit ? Oh he’ll be vexed and refuse to speak to whoever annoyed him for a while. 

He could get incredibly petty, pedantic, annoying, during those little fits of anger. In fact, tne thing you always hated about Dick, was how much he could hold the grudge too, during those moments. 

Oh god it was unsufurable ! During arguments, usually if he was loosing, he’d get events back out that happened YEARS PRIOR and throw them back in your face out of anger. 

Like : “oh remember that time you accidentally zapped me with your lightnings and my entire leg was burned ?”, which would get you angry because he was trying to guilt-trip you, and then you’d get petty and a bit mean in return and...It was very childish. 

And it was a side very few people ever saw, because it only happened with people he truly loved and utterly trusted. With people who actually knew how to hit his pride. 

His friends at the Young Justice hit the nails on the head a few times, but he didn’t get as angry with them as he would get back home, mainly because there was always someone to defuse things (namely : a certain Kaldur who was the team’s mediator really). 

But when faced with you, his siblings or Bruce ? You guys sometimes were annoyed by his little fit of anger, by how easily he would get offended/vexed by certain things, and would tease him on purpose, just to rile him up. 

Now he wouldn’t get as mad as when he’s in his “first kind” of anger...but he would get so moody and bitchy ! 

Goodbye happy-go-lucky Dick Grayson, hello edgy-emo-complains-too-much Dick Grayson ! “You guys never listen to me” and other “sweet” things would be said a lot. 

He would refuse to play a game again, he would go pout in a corner, he would get very passive-agressive...Oh Bruce remembers the time Dick got mad at him for saying he should work more as he got a bad grade on one of his maths test, and Dick proceeded to leave post-it notes all around the house about how he couldn’t study more because he had to “save this person that night”, or “help Alfred clean the kitchen” etc etc...very petty. 

His second kind of anger slowly died down, as he grew up. It rarely happened nowadays, and when it did, it was usually because one of his sibling (*cough* mainly Jason *cough*) annoyed him on purpose.

When you met him, you two were about 13/14 years old, and he would often get vexed like that. But as he grew older, he realized how ridiculous it could be, and evolved. Or rather, he hid his frustration better (but everyone knew that whenever he lost at a game, he would get angry inside haha). 

There was less things to say about this second kind of anger, but you were pretty sure it would be the one that would shock your friends the most. Because everyone always assumed he could take any jokes (wrong), and didn’t take anything very seriously (double wrong). 

So seeing him get all worked up over someone insulting him, or someone being better than him at something and boasting about it, etc etc etc...it would surely be a huge surprise. 

This side of him is what initially attracted you to him though. The realization that he wasn’t perfect. Because for real, if he was funny and witty, handsome and always knew what to say ? That wouldn’t be fair. Too perfect. 

So the fact that he would get frustrated over the smallest things like that, it reassured you. Plus it could actually be super endearing to see him get flustered and puff his cheek in anger ! 

Oh you still remember when Jason said (knowing exactly what his brother’s reaction would be) that the Harry Potter movies were better than the books...Dick went on a rant that lasted hours about how wrong this was ! 

It was cute. Dick certainly never lacked...passion (in every area). 

Yes. This second kind of anger would probably shock people the most, and though it was annoying, it was also something that only you and his very close friends and family members were privy of, which made it incredibly precious. 

************

The way he got angry at you today, was a mix of both his angers. It started with the first type, as he was afraid for you and such, but ended with the second kind as he realized you were pushing his buttons on purpose, as you increasingly grew frustrated with him. 

Which meant he never quite reached the full level of the first type, and didn’t destroy anything (thanks god, your friends were already shocked enough that he yelled, so imagine him going on a rampage in Mount Justice !). But still ended up with him getting too angry, and you too. 

And now, as usual after one of his fit, he felt like a total jerk. Like an idiot too. He knew you were strong, that you were ready, and that he shouldn’t have acted as if you were useless (you hated that, pet peeve of yours). 

He knew he should’ve shown support, instead of yelling. But this gut wrenching fear he felt at the mere thought of loosing you...it drove him over the edge once more. He was now mad at not being able to control himself.

And as he got the plane down at the mission’s area, he felt like utter shit...

Once again though, you knew him better than anyone else, and as your teammates left the plane, you stayed behind, knowing he wanted to talk to you. 

“I’m...I’m sorry. I can be such a jerk sometimes.”

He says, bashful and ashamed. And he doesn’t have to say anything else, to say why he’s sorry...You understand. You smile at him, and it makes him melt. You take his hand, give it a squeeze, and say : 

“I’m sorry too. I can be a petty bitch sometimes...” 

He gives you a gentle peck on your lips, you smile at each other and everything is forgotten. The anger flies away, as nothing but love fills your hearts. Love and adoration. And knowing the fact that you and Dick ? It’s the real deal. And if he got that angry at you, it’s actually just because he cares so much about you. 

The crisis is averted. 

To be honest, you fight from times to times (like every healthy couple really), but it never last for very long. And sure he can hold the grudge sometimes, but it only happens when he’s angry. 

It never last long, and he always comes around (even if sometimes it can take him a while, like when he left Bruce to go off with the Titans...Then again, this was a big issues, so his anger was proportional to it really). 

This all thing of him being cheerful and happy all the time, making jokes and being witty...It’s a true thing. A good 70% of his personality is that. 

But the 30% that remains ? It’s his “darker side”, as Cassandra would call it (she spend WAY TOO MUCH times watching the Star Wars movie, according to Bruce). 

The way he can get irrationally angry, and so fast. Going from 0 to a 100 in a second. 

The way he can turn into a total jerk, and say things that are truly hurtful. 

The way he’s borderline arrogant, and doesn’t like to be wrong. 

To put it simply, the way Dick Grayson is, and always will be “The Angry Robin”. 

__________________________________________________

Well I hope you liked it and that it wasn’t disappointing.I hope I was able to...somehow capture Dickiebird’s “darker” side and all...it’s very difficult, that guy is actually super complicated and...yeah I wasn’t sure how to quite tackle this all thing. I tried. As usual feedbacks = very VERY welcomed, but more importantly in this new “Tumblr Era” : REBLOGS became vital. People don’t reblog the stuffs they like anymore and it’s slowly what kills this site. So if you enjoyed this story, reblogging it and sharing it is one of the best way to show your appreciation :). Like, for real, it’s important. Thanks very much in advance ^^ !

PS : Just in case you’re thinking “but you never reblog other people’s stuffs”, I have a sideblog with over 2000 followers where I just reblog everything I love, from fanfictions to the worst of shitposts haha. So I do reblog too, just not on my main that I keep fanfic and fanfic related things only. 

#Richard Grayson x Reader #Richard Grayson imagine #Nightwing x Reader #Nightwing imagine #Batfam #Batfamily #Batfam x Reader #Batfamily x Reader #Batman imagine #DC imagine #DC reader insert #Richard Grayson reader insert #Nightwing reader insert #Young Justice #Young Justice x Reader #Young Justice imagine #Richard Grayson #Nightwing #The angry robin #like people are always shocked #and say writers take #Jason's personality #but nuh-ho #Jason has a certain type of anger #it's very targetted #but he's otherwise a calm boy #but Dick ? Oh man #he irrationally gets angry #so much canonically in the comics ! #I mean he left Bruce and all for god's sake !

[pops-and-kids]

Part 2 of the 2019 Christmas ficlets!

“You look dead.” Blamenco stated bluntly as he watched Curiel poke his casserole idling for the eighteenth time.

Curiel grunted, tired eyes blinking from their dead stare as he lifted his head off the table. “Just thinking about what I could change in my machine.”

Blamenco gave his brother a concerned expression as he took a bite of bread.

“Maybe I could exchange the batteries for a longer lifespan. ….But then I’d have to remodel it to make up for it. Or! I could…! Wait no.” With a groan Curiel banged his head on the table, immediately regretting it as he jolted up with a yowl of pain and fell back off the bench.

Blamenco choked on his water and held his hand out, “Yer glashesh!” He said with a mouth full of food.

Curiel could only sigh as he pulled his goggles off his aching face. Inspecting them with blurry eyes he was relieved they hadn’t cracked. Sometimes he forgot he wore them after long build sessions since he didn’t need them as much in his shop. All the thinking was going to give a spaz attack--but they were so close to the island! It wouldn’t be long until they docked and he may have to repair on the go if it broke.

“Blanc! Izou! Pop’s wants your help on deck!” Jeppi yelled from the mess hall doors.

Curiel slipped his goggles back onto his face despite the dull pain, smiling at Blamenco’s torn expression. Before the man could say anything he cut him off, “Go on, Blanc. I’ll be fine. Twas just a flesh wound.”

Blamenco gave him a look, “I’m more worried about your brain exploding.”

Curiel laughed as the larger man took his leave. Maybe he’d let his brothers division take his gizmo for a test drive first. It couldn’t be an “unfair advantage” when none of them could hit the broad side of a barn to begin with, right?

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Thatch smiled as he watched Ausha get into a groove. True to his word he quickly was remastering the royal icing, making intricately decorated cookies. Thatch himself had made a new batch or normal frosting and decorating his own few trays worth of cookies. The two of them had done a lot of talking while they worked and he was more than surprised to hear Ausha’s family worked in a bakery before he left.

“I just didn’t want to spend my life doing that, you know? And look where I ended up anyway!”

They both laughed at the irony of it all. Thatch had asked him if he wanted to switch divisions once more, but the scarlet haired man told him that he found himself enjoying working in the kitchen with his family. It made Thatch’s heart happy to see his brother finally fitting it after months of feeling out of place. Before he could say his thoughts the smell of something awful filled his nose….

“OH FU-HUCK!!! NO NO NONONONO!!! NO!!!” He yelled as he spun around and made a mad dash for the ovens.

They were crowded with other cooks, all freaking out just as much as their commander. The cookies that they had set to bake were all burning, no one having heard the alarms go off. Sarah threw open the main oven and pulled out the tray, making a heartbreaking sound at the carnage. All the sugar cookies on it had burned, black and inedible. Hours of work dashed by a single mistake.

“WHO WAS ON OVEN DUTY?!” Thatch snapped, silencing the yells of despair.

Everyone looked around, calling out names in confusion, until one of the older cooks raised his hand.

“I ’ink it wa’ L’n and Helv’ka, bu’ Helv’ka ‘ad a’ appoin’m’nt wit’ ‘Iru and I don’t know w’ere in the fresh ‘ell L’n we’t.” Bob clarified in his thick accent.

Thatch ran a hand down his face and let out a frustrated groan. He had fucking forgotten Helvaka was excused to see Jiru! He forgot to assign someone in his place so it didn’t all fall on Leon’s shoulders! But that still didn’t explain where the other man had gotten off to. With a shake of his head he waded through the crowd and picked up one of the timers. Thatch’s eyes widened in shock as he realized: The timers weren’t even turned on! They were set for the appropriate time but Leon never hit ‘start.’

It took him a second but Thatch was able to breathe again when he felt someone pat his back.

“It’s okay, we can deal with it.” Ausha gave a meek smile as he offered his friend support.

All the stress that had smashed into him like a rock suddenly relaxed, letting thatch breathe easily once again. Ausha was right, they’d be fine, if only a few cookies short then normal. That was fine, they never ate through all the cookies anyway.

“Alright guys, back to work. Twos and Windy, you two are on oven duty.” He ordered.

They’d be fiiiiine. Everything was fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine.

He was going to whoop Leon’s ass later though.

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Pops hummed some merry tunes as he helped Namur and Haruta untangle a bunch of lights. They had all sorts; rainbow ones with every colour, flashing ones that worked on a timer, small glittery ones that looked wonderful on snow, and some with just red and green. They were always fun to set up in shapes, smiley faces, snowmen, hearts, the family crest. It was “anything goes!” with the lights. .....So long as it wasn’t a penis, that was. The single most annoying thing, however, was untangling the bastards.

To his right Haruta was struggling with the smaller ones, grunting and growling like a child taking on a hard challenge. To his left Namur was calmly handling the red and greens, but if one just looked closely they would see the rage under the surface of his deep grey eyes. Pops himself was having a good time with the flashing ones, which somehow despite his large fingers came undone fairly easily this year.

“GOD--....dammit.” Namur finally snarled.

Pops held in his laughter and instead gave his son a pitying pat on the back. The poor fishman had somehow made his string into a knot, grinding his sharp teeth in anguish.

“Let me hold it up for you, Namur.” He offered, setting down his own work and picking the string up between his fingers and holding it for his son.

This was the boy could see the whole string much more easily. Namur huffed and gave him a look.

“Can’t we have someone else do this?” He asked.

Pops chuckled and shook his head. It wasn’t often Namur complained, but slow, tedious work like this always grinded his gears. If it weren’t for the fact that the fishman could not be in the cold weather he would have let the boy help out to do something else. The fishman knew this too and gave a quiet sigh before getting back to his work.

“Yeah, why do I gotta help with this? I wanna help with the booze barrels!’ Haruta complained, yanking on the mass of wires in their lap.

“This is your punishment for replacing Marco’s bed with beans, my child. He didn’t like that one bit.”

“It was meant to be funny! He didn’t need to lose his shit!” Despite Harutas clear display of annoyance they still continued to work on their uncooperative lights, if just a little loudly.

Sitting there as still as possible Pops closed his eyes and began to hum a soft tune. A tune he would never forget in all his years and would never stop humming it. He hummed until everything around him faded and only his own voice surrounded him. Edward saw a kind smile behind his eyes, felt warm hands hold his face as his voice was slowly overtaken by a womens. He felt those hands take his own and his body swayed as he felt like dancing, the smell of cookies pulling him further into the trance as he remembered frosting them. A wonderful moment in dark times.

“....Oi, Pops?” Namurs voice snapped him out of his reminiscing.

“Mm?” He hummed, opening his eyes and looking down, “Yes, my son?”

“You sing that every year and I haven’t gotten to ask...where did you hear that from? I’ve never heard it anywhere else?”

“Aaah...well you see, I couldn’t tell you.” Pops answered honestly. “I’ve forgotten the words myself years ago. But I can never get that tune out of my head, and it’s this time of year that it always fills my head.”

“....Does it remind you of anything?”

“Oh of course. Happier times in one of the hardest times of my life.” A wistful smile made its way onto his face as all those memories came back to him.

Namur opened his mouth to ask another question when Haruta let out a noise that could only be described as a cat being murdered.

“CAN ONE OF YOU PLEASE HELP ME!?”

Both of the other two light-untanglers looked to the youngest in alarm before bursting into laughter. Haruta had defied all logic and gotten themselves tangled in the wires, making for one of the most hilarious scenes Pops had seen in years. He laughed so hard the boat rattled, making the trapped commander roll over. Haruta yelled more as they struggled in the trap of their own making, Namur having to help them as Pops couldn’t stop laughing between questioning how they had managed to tie themselves up so badly.

#Pops : Whitebeard #Edward Newgate #Whitebeard #Whitebeard pirates #Thatch #Curiel #Blamenco #Namur #Haruta #Izou #((Christmas 2019)) #((long post is long)) #One Piece

[alitheamateur]

A Taste of Home-Chapter 6

Warnings: Language. Fluff.

You dizzied barefoot around the torn apart suitcase in the floor of your hotel room. It seemed as you’d packed every essential for your time in Malibu, except the perfect ensemble for a date with Chris ‘full of surprises’ Evans. Were jeans to casual? Would heels be over the top? Did you need to wear matching undergarments….?

Assumption isn’t a good look, although maybe better than downright desperation.

Your body wanted him down to the very lowest layer of your flesh. It was needy, and maybe drastic. Careless even. But, your every thought was sickeningly consumed by the daydreams of you in his bed. Whether it be due to his righteous kindness, his charming wit, or those damn fitted t-shirts would be an eternal unsolved mystery. But, you knew he was well aware of his plethora of desirous traits, and more pathetically you were alright with the way he purposely highlighted them.

A: I need something to go on here, Evans. Where are you taking me?

You spritzed rosy perfume over the naked span of your body, and into the stretched line of your neck under your loosely fallen hair. You’d rather look impatient and ruin the surprise rather than dress inappropriately for the occasion, so you texted him.

C: Casual. No heels. Bring a sweater. And Amelia?

A: Chris?

C: Stop worrying.

C: See you in an hour. Smile, gorgeous. Today was a good day.

Your lips obeyed his command and you felt a lax smile creep onto your cheeks.

Choosing the most practical outfit in your suitcase, you pulled the thin straps of a loose, blue cotton dress up, it’s hem dragging to the middle of your thigh. It seemed your hair, once perfectly plain and straight from the earlier photo shoot, had disagreed with the humidity of the hot afternoon. Your blonde, swirling curls were raging at full attention, wild around your pink-stained cheeks.

The dip of its neckline sagged tastefully low, but enough to display your most confident feature. You truly never felt even the slightest bit comfortable in your own skin, which is why clothes sang to you. If your own skin wouldn’t do the job, you’d make it a hobby to find the most perfect piece of fabric to boost where you lacked in self-confidence.

Swiping a melon, lip-plumping balm over your mouth at the bathroom vanity, your phone buzzed.

Shithead: I’m in Boston on business. I’ve got the papers with me, so let’s meet around lunch tomorrow to discuss. You may bring a lawyer, but good luck paying for one.

So many replies that still wouldn’t do his most undesirable actions justice cluttered around your thoughts, but you composed yourself, prepping to defend his unacceptable demands as an adult. Sort of.

A: With your very prompt notice of one day, it seems I’m out of town until day after next. You can either wait, or leave them with my parents. I sincerely hope you choose the latter.

He read instantly your answer, and a reply was in hot pursuit.

Shithead: Out of town? Why?

A: Business. Mine, not yours.

Your thumbs patted against the screen, waiting for the awful reaction your vague explanation would undoubtably ensue, just as a knock patted on the locked door of your suit. Rather than let the sour taste of Ben ruin your evening furthermore, you shifted the off switch and marched towards the man waiting in the hall.

You picked up a small clutch on the way, but it fell to the floor, probably in slow motion like your jaw, when you answered his knock.

Instantly, you elected once back in your bed tonight, you would make yourself decide whether you liked suited, James Bond-like Chris, or this Chris more. The easy jeans, half-torn at the collar t-shirt, dirty sneakers Chris standing in your doorway, smiling behind midnight black sunglasses.

You could smell him with the wind of the opening door, and you hoped he got a warm dose of your scent, too, knowing what the sweet scent of a woman could do to the male species.

“I was going to call, but I thought I’d come up to get you instead. You know, manners and all.” He rolled his eyes, his shoulders danced in a nonchalant shrug.

“Manners are nice, yes. Manners are always good, right?” You wondered if he noticed how you seemed to always get a case of these weird hiccups when he was around.

“Sometimes I like a little impoliteness. It has its place on occasion, wouldn’t you say?” Chris greeted you with a kiss to the feverish curve of your cheekbone, his words humming into your ear not by accident.

You disregarded his already unfair advantage for the evening, and boldly counteracted.

“Oh, definitely. I couldn’t agree more! I may have thrown my manners out the window a time or two, and been downright bad mannered.”

Chris chuckled, and I watched him gulp down his Adams apple. He may have been better at hiding his attractions than you, but you noticed the little hitch in the pattern of his breaths.

You whipped of the switch of your light on that note, double checking your keycard for the room was tucked away in your wallet, and strolled next to him down the abnormally quite hall.

“I see the hair is back,” he commented, staring at the lit-up buttons on the wall of the elevator. “I like this Millie much better. Not that the other version isn’t…. well, it isn’t… you look beautiful. I’m trying to say that you look fucking beautiful, Amelia.”

The way his words stammered on his tongue like a confused drunk pleased you.

Nervous. You, make him, nervous.

“ I don’t think you need little old me telling you how handsome you are, Evans.”

The drop to each floor ticked by like an infinite second, and with every moment your pull the him itched stronger. He seemed to possess his own magnetic forcefield that your body’s every molecule responded to, which made the resistance inexplicably painful. Alone. Trapped in the silent solitude of the elevator, you locked stares. The icy glimmer in his eye played from dangerously calm, to shuddering sensuality when he looked at you. His emotions battling to behave, or otherwise. And, God, his smell. The divine smell of him alone made you think of sex.

When we dinged to the lobby, you gasped in relief at the fresh, open air as you stepped outside the elevator car, needing a momentary escape from his irresistible, palatable force. You felt in control of your senses for a moment, until Chris moved his veined hand to the exposed skin between the blades of your shoulders, close to your sweating nape.

“My car is out back waiting. This way.” He pulled.

The two of you escaped the treacherous clutches of the frenzied paps snapping photos, and tucked yourselves safely into the back seat of an SUV that seemed to follow him around. You buckled yourself into the seatbelt, squirming a bit with the strange feeling of unusual silence.

“Tess was raving about you after you left today. She was beyond impressed.” He caught your attention from gazing out the window at the swaying palm trees.

“I had an amazing day, Chris. That is exactly how I pictured my life when I started up the blog, and it came to pass, finally. All thanks to you.”

He groaned, but with a smile. “If you thank me one more time, I’m dropping you off on the side of the road. Its what friends do, Millie. Help each other.” He swallowed your hand into his. “And besides, seeing you so smiley the entire afternoon was well worth it.”

He pulled his lip between his teeth, as if he was the one suffering from his salacious thoughts. Your self-control, however much longer it may last, was admirably unwavering.

The car slowed, and somehow you managed to shake yourself back to some form of reality to make note of where you had ended up. Pulling into the emptying parking lot next to a sandy beach, Chris leaned to do the service of unbuckling your belt.

“Don’t touch that door.” He commanded as he dropped to the ground, leaving you alone in the second row of the vehicle.

Confused, you followed his jog around the car through the hazy tint of the black windows until he landed directly outside your door, where he pulled it open, offering you his hand.

The sun was still hanging droopily over the endless span of blue, fluffy caps of white waves rolling to the shore. You internally hoped whatever he had planned, you’d at least get to watch the orange-y glow of the sunset fall over the Malibu beach.

“Come with me. It’s just around those rocks there.” Chris tucked your hand into his palm, and you wished he had given you a moment to dry the nervy sweat between your fingers.  

The tepid wind whipped your dress to and fro, along with the wave of your hair as he guided you down the sandy hill of a rocky, secluded cove.

“I hope this is alright for a celebration? I wasn’t sure if you’d feel up to a big crowd after your busy day.  

The hinge of your jaw broke open, and a gasp fell from your lips. A blanket, what looked to be made of expensive chenille was laid into the sand, a basket holding it back from escaping with the gusts of welcomed ocean breeze. There were 2 fluted glasses turned upward onto the lid of the picnic basket, next to a chilling tin of some sort of bottle sealed with gold foil.

“You did all this? How did you manage to pull all of this together in what, 3 hours?!”

“I can’t take all the credit, no. As badly as I want to claim entire responsibility for the look on your face right this second.” Chris brushed back a curl of your hair away from your face, the tips of his fingers lingering heated at the corner of your mouth.

You turned into his touch, happily abandoning your better judgment. Hoping to see that mischievous, roused glaze paint over his eye, you barely popped your lips into the curve of a kiss to the pad of his finger. The stir of his usually sure demeanor crumbled, and you relished that it had been at your hand.

“Behave, Chris.” You heard him mistakenly whisper to himself. 

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