#everyone’s experiences but you want to pretend this is fucking high school and keep secrets. i am TIRED of drama. i am TIRED of this stupid

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

Pride Month Character Sexuality Headcanon Moodboards 1. Yasmine - Lesbian 2. Demetri Alexopoulos - Gay 3. Moon - Bisexual 4. Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz - Bisexual

Next up is everyone's favorite Demetri Alexopoulos-obsessed slightly evil predatory bird boy, Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz! Unlike with Demetri, I am fully aboard the Bisexual Eli Express. Justice for bi guys!!! We need more in media because it is in fact sexy and valid to like dick AND boobs!!!

Now, quick disclaimer that there is not a single mlw Eli ship that I personally fuck with in the least. I've been pretty loud about the reasons for my immense distaste of H*wkM**n, and could in fact write a 20 or so page essay on why they're one of my all-time NoTPs if prompted. Furthermore, my first impulse upon seeing any other female character paired with Eli (or...really, any character who isn't Demetri, or possibly Miguel in extremely specific circumstances) is to keep said pairing approximately 491263844976 feet away from me. BUT, despite my personal feelings of revulsion upon seeing Eli paired with anyone who isn't his soulmate Demetri Alexopoulos, I fully believe Eli is bisexual and that there's plenty of textual evidence to support this!

So let's dive in!

The first thing that comes to mind is how Eli vents to his mom in the 2x05 flashback about how he's "never going to get a girlfriend." Granted, as I've mentioned in some other posts, high school dating is often more about social status (i.e. being seen as "desirable" enough to get an SO makes you more popular) than genuine romantic attraction. BUT Eli voicing his concerns to someone he clearly trusts more than most people indicates to me that he wants a girlfriend more than just for show--he's attracted to girls.

I have a friend who since moved on from the fandom who did autistic analyses of Eli, and pointed out that he's often uncomfortable with eye contact. Pre-Hawk, the only two people we see him make consistent eye contact with are Demetri and his mom. This seems like a pretty good indication that these are the two people he trusts the most, and can most honestly "bare his soul" and be himself around. Another reason I think his vent to his mom about worrying he's never going to have the experience of dating a girl has authenticity to it. I can't compare this to Demetri's interactions with his mom, unfortunately (and it's a damn shame!!! I demand to see Ms. Alexopoulos in S6!!!), but I can say for certain that Eli has expressed wanting a girlfriend from a (presumably) vulnerable and honest place, while S1 Demetri only ever seems to do so performatively.

As previously established, there is no bigger H*wkM**n loather than I. I make no secret of this. HOWEVER!!! I feel like it'd be naive--and maybe even dumb--to pretend that there isn't at least some physical attraction there. Granted, they're definitely emotionally incompatible in a way I wish the show had the balls to actually address (like how the fuck is a pacifist gonna last in a relationship with a dude who loves fighting more than just about everything else lmao), but I can buy they find each other physically (and probably sexually) attractive. Moon basically says as much when she's dumping Eli in S2! They very much strike me as one of those teenage couples who are all over each other 90% because of hormones. I'd say the main difference between them and Dem and Yas is that the performative aspect doesn't seem to be there. While Dem and Yas feel like they're putting on a show, it seems like Hawk and Moon really were just that horny.

So throughout S2, we see Hawk treat Moon in kind of a possessive way, and more as arm candy to make him look good than as her own person (yet another reason I am such a Hater lmao). Despite this, he spends so much time in S3 and S4 moping over her and pining for her that I do think they had somewhat of an emotional connection, even if it was pretty surface-level. I still think their relationship was mostly based on looks and social status, but him being that hung up on winning her back (a frankly unhealthy thing that should not have been narratively rewarded btw) instead of just moving on to some other hot girl who'd give him the time of day indicates that Moon was more than just a beard.

So like. I feel like if you weren't convinced that Eli has feelings for Demetri, you wouldn't be reading a post written by tumblr user demetriandelibinaryboyfriends XD But to briefly summarize: Eli spends much of the show shooting Demetri Yearning Looks and being the only one amused by his antics. Even when they're falling out, Eli is borderline obsessive about harassing Demetri when he could just ignore him and focus on his Cool New Karate Friends. He often seeks Demetri out in fights in a way that feels pretty damn fruity. He's pretty physically affectionate with Demetri, and never seems to mind when Dem is physically affectionate with him (to the point of near cuddling in S4). This is...unusual for teenage boys, to say the least! Oftentimes even the straight ones are so terrified of being perceived as gay that they're super stingy about all but the most "no homo" type of physical affection. The fact that Dem and Eli pretty liberally put their arms around each other and give each other little gestures of physical affection makes me think that they've been in a homoerotic friendship so long that they like. Don't even realize it comes across as kinda gay??? Like Miguel and Demetri are physically affectionate too, but it's much more casual and doesn't feel as intense.

Also worth a mention that Eli is literally simping for Demetri so hard that he joins Demetri's karate dojo right after being terribly traumatized and deciding to quit karate. Why??? Because Demetri said some encouraging things to him, cuddled him on a couch, and basically confessed his love by being like "hey I'll always care about you no matter how you wear your hair or what name you go by." This man is whipped as fuck. His actor basically confirmed he won the championship for Demetri! And lest we forget, the final push that got him to betray the dojo he'd previously devoted his entire life to--also led by a dangerous war criminal sure not to take betrayal lightly, might I mention--was seeing Demetri in danger. Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz is in fact Down Bad.

So I'm not a big fan of the migu/eli ship for reasons I don't want to get into here, but imo it's completely possible Eli had feelings for Miguel at some point (I just don't think they were ever reciprocated because Miguel is in love with Sam!). He definitely idolizes Miguel and puts him on a kind of "coolness" pedestal that feels like it could easily be romantic. He also gets so obsessed with avenging Miguel that he breaks the arm of the other guy he has a crush on, so...there's also that!

Come to think of it, there are actually some really interesting parallels between the Miguel/Eli and Moon/Eli relationships. Both are kind of a case of Eli getting really enamored with this idealized idea/concept he has of a person and getting so wrapped up in that that he has a fundamental misunderstanding of and neglects the actual person's wants and needs. Hence why he's so confused when Moon and Miguel tell him they don't want him in their lives if he's going to be an ass--this isn't how the doe-eyed ever-adoring hot girlfriend and stone-cold, super aggressive badass bestie he built up in his head were supposed to react! Why are they acting like independent people with agency who don't conform to the versions of themselves in Eli's fantasies???

(This is also why I think Demetri's the healthiest and most sensible romantic partner for Eli btw. Eli doesn't idealize and borderline deify Demetri the way he does for other people he has feelings for/seems to have feelings for. He's known Dem so long that we can reasonably extrapolate any feelings that developed were based in the Demetri that was actually there, and not a fictional version he built up in his mind. In fact, it almost seems like Demetri knows Eli has a tendency to do this and won't let Eli project an untrue version of Demetri onto the real guy. That might be why Demetri staunchly refused to change himself to go along with Eli's karate shenanigans in early S2--he was basically saying "I am who I am, and I refuse to become this impossibly glorified image you're projecting onto me." And I can't blame him--I actually get really annoyed when people try to put me on a pedestal, and will often go out of my way to break their illusion that I'm whatever perfect, wholesome box they try to shove me in XD Bottom line being that between Moon, Miguel, and Demetri, I think Demetri has the healthiest relationship with Eli because it's, at the end of the day, the most honest and doesn't hinge on any untrue and unfair projections.)

At the end of the day though!!! The fact that Eli is able to separately idealize both a guy and a girl and both in a pretty romantic or romantic-coded way is pretty damning proof to me that he is in fact bisexual! Look, not all bisexuals process their feelings in healthy ways okay aiksjuuhfkdhg

He dyes his hair ALL THE DAMN BISEXUAL FLAG COLORS. And on the order they're on the flag, too??? Red (S2 - S3) to purple (S4) to dark blue (S5)??? Fucking wild. If this was a fanfiction I would joke about it being too on-the-nose, BUT NO. THIS IS CANON MATERIAL IN THE SHOW.

Okay, I'm sorry, but. NO non-queer dude dyes his hair bright-ass colors like that. Red or blue maaaaybe, but PURPLE??? NO. Straight men simply do not dye their hair purple. Like speaking as an LGBT I'm here to tell you that in the community, brightly colored hair (but especially more "flamboyant," girly colors like purple or pink) basically a signal that says "hey, I am also queer!" ESPECIALLY if you're a dude. Straight girls dyeing their hair bright-ass colors is more common, but I have never known a single straight guy to. And that's because it's associated with being gay af.

Also I can't tell you the amount of times they've put this dude in bisexual lighting. The ones I can think of off the top of my head are S2 Valley Fest and the S3 arm break, but I'm sure there are more I'm forgetting. Demetri is there both the times I mentioned. Hmmmm.

Took some liberties with the bisexual flag in this moodboard to better fit Eli's vibe...and also like. These are literally the three colors he dyes his hair in canon. I had to XD

I'm still not over that btw aksjdkhuef like it's so bisexual it's PAINFUL

I really like how this one came out <3 Hopefully I was able to capture the full scope of technonerd, avian motifs, and that one S3 angerboi I-want-to-punch-everything-and-everyone arc!

Btw the top middle picture is just supposed to be neon fire because our boi is Fiery™️, but then I realized it...kind of also looks like a mohawk??? So kudos to me for the accidental character accuracy XD

Okay so. Would you believe I have several more of these that I didn't have the chance to post? ^^; I uh. Guess I'll have to make July Pride Month 2.0 and post them then XD This is what happens when I'm too overambitious in my shitposts, eh?

As always, pic credits available upon request!

#eli moskowitz #hawk #cobra kai #aesthetic #moodboard #ck pride month moodboards #bisexual #cobra kai season 1 #cobra kai season 2 #cobra kai season 3 #cobra kai season 4 #cobra kai season 5 #happy pride 🌈 #lgbt #lgbtqia #queer #queer pride

[caiuscassiuss]

tease ⎮ k.th (snippet)

TEASE IS OUT NOW!!! FIND IT HERE

Description: You knew you were hot. You saw how the guys looked at you, how their eyes were drawn to a tight t-shirt or short skirt. And maybe this would fail epically—crash and burn like a failed experiment—but you wanted to get under Kim Taehyung’s skin the only way you knew how.

Genre: Brother’s best friend (jungkook is your twin brother lol) au/ enemies-to-lovers WC: (estimated) ~10k Warnings: graphic smut (Dom! Taehyung + Brat! Reader, dirty talk, daddy kink, degradation kink/ slight slut shaming, masturbation, blow jobs, cunnilingus, edging, light dub-con, spanking), reader is promiscuous and a tease™ 

The incident at the club was definitely an offensive blow to Taehyung in your non-existent game, as he watched you differently in the times you ran into him. He looked a lot more contemplative and a hell of a lot angrier that you tamped down a victorious smile. You were gonna blue ball him so hard he would rue the day he snitched on you to your parents.

You had already planned on skinny-dipping in the pool when Taehyung was sleeping over one night, but your plans were ruined as your parents announced a family trip to the lake cabin rental.

You had pasted on a smile at the news, looking happy to escape from the city, but inwardly you pouted. This trip would put you out of commission, so to speak. You wouldn’t see Taehyung for the next few weeks and you were sort of worried the thing you had going on would fade as he, inevitably, would fuck some random girl to get over the tension.

However, imagine your joy as your amazing, heaven-sent brother asked if he could drag Taehyung along and all the parties agreed.

The four hour car ride was monotonous, with you parents at the front, your brother and his friend in the middle, and you unfortunately cramped at the back. You glanced at Taehyung, who was fast asleep with his spidery lashes brushing his cheeks. You patted your backpack absentmindedly, where your secret weapon was stored. You were pulling out the big guns this time. No fucking around. He was going to be begging to fuck you.

Your family arrived at the rustic cabin you were renting and you jumped out of the car to stretch your poor, poor back. Your parents, of course, took the master bedroom so that left the two guest bedrooms between the three of you. Jungkook and Taehyung would be sharing a room while you would have your own and honestly, you thought the heavens were smiling down on you, because the rooms were connected with a Jack-and-Jill bathroom. 

You just had to wait for the right moment. Everyone was exhausted and took a nap, which resulted in you pacing around your room, deep in thought.

Your parents had decided to go out for dinner at the township a little while away, while Jungkook fibbed a lie about going to the woods for a hike and instead snuck away to the beach for girls. Apparently, from what you could hear from inside your bedroom, Taehyung was still asleep and refused to go hiking with Jungkook. They also thought you were asleep too, your dad taking a moment of pity on you by acknowledging how hard you’ve been working at school and sports.

Inwardly, you fistpumped. They were finally leaving you and Taehyung alone, so you could finally enact your plan.

You hid your vibrator underneath your sheets and waited for Taehyung to wake up. You didn’t have to wait long as you heard the creaking of floorboards in the other room.

Tossing away your shirt, you were left in just your bra and panties. Settling down on your bed, you turned the vibrator on low and rubbed it against your panties. A slight, quiet groan escaped your mouth and you felt arousal start to form on your nether lips. Dragging the vibrator up and down against your covered slit, your ears perked up at the sound of shower starting in the conjoined bathroom.

You repeated the motion a few times, before you pressed the tip of the vibrator hard against your covered pussy. It pressed against your clit and you felt your vision swim, a slight yelp escaping your mouth. For a while, the shuffling around the bathroom stopped and you froze, half excited and half anxious.

You heard metallic scrape of shower rings and relaxed. You circled the vibrator around your slit a bit more, stimulating the motion of penetration lightly and arousal definitely stained your panties. 

Moving your panties to the side, you let the tip of the vibe rest against your clit, rotating it to cover it in slick and burrowing it deeper into your pussy. A loud whine left your lips, one he definitely heard, and you panted heavily. The muggy air pressed down on you and the blood rushed around underneath your skin.

Shoving down your bra, leaving your breasts obscenely pushed out against the cups, you dragged your fingernails across the sensitive skin of your breasts. Groaning, you turned your face to burrow your head into your pillow.

Slowly inserting the vibrating dildo into your pussy, a shout left your lips as your pussy contracted against the object suddenly. The lack of action over the past few weeks definitely made you more sensitive.

Chest heaving, you left the vibe in to adjust to it. Taking it and feeling arousal coating your fingertips, you slowly pushed it in and out of your pussy. Your eyes shut in pleasure and strangled yell emanated from your throat, your legs relaxing until you could feel both legs spread for the world to see. The cotton sheets suddenly felt too hot against your skin and you pushed them hurriedly away.

You pressed the vibe in and out of your now sopping wet pussy and your fingers pinched at your breasts, circling around your perked nipples. The shower in the background sounded muffled to your ears as you sunk into a veil of pleasure.

Thrusting the vibe deep into your pussy, you hit your g-spot and you choked, an embarrassingly loud groan filling the air. You undulated the vibrator against your g-spot and clit repeatedly, black spots and bright lights flashing against the back of your eyelids. Your moans were now non-stop and you knew Taehyung could hear you even if he was downstairs.

Memories of his dark eyes, veiny neck and arms, and sweaty shoulders made you tense up. The vibrator hit your g-spot and clit at once and you tweaked your nipples, a scream leaving your lips as felt light exploding in your vision and your pussy clenching the vibrator. Your knees knocked painfully together as you orgasmed, eyes shut and mouth wide open to moan loudly into the air.

The waves of pleasure washed over you and gradually left, leaving you panting into the air. The air conditioner brushed against your sensitive pussy and aftershocks rocked your body, clamping your lips tight to stop groans from escaping. Pulling the vibrator out, you could feel slick start to coat your pussy and thighs.

Closing your eyes, the blanket of placidity settled over you. Wow, you had really needed this, hadn’t you? All your scheming and schoolwork had—

A hard knock startled you out of your thoughts and you registered the shower had stopped. The knock rattled the doorframe and made you wonder how mad Taehyung was on the other side.

“Taehyung? Do you need anything?” you asked, voice slightly high-pitched and cracked.

“Open up, Y/N,” he grumbled.

You threw on a large t-shirt to cover your chest and leaking pussy, nearly stumbling as you walked to the door.

“Y-yeah?” you asked, cracking the door open a bit. Taehyung pushed the door open roughly, and you almost tripped over air.

He stood there, shirtless and wet, glaring at you from underneath his wet bangs. You gulped, nipples instantly perking up again at the aura restrained anger he exuded. Your eyes followed a drop of water that dripped from his hair and landed with a plop on his chest, working its way down his toned pectorals and defined abs and then into his Apollo’s belt—

“—it down?”

You shook yourself out of your thoughts, wide eyes snapping to meet his.

“H-Huh?” you blurted out, uncharacteristically flustered.

“I said,” he huffed, nostrils flared, “Can you keep it the fuck down?”

You didn’t even have to pretend to flush and act nervous. “O-oh, sorry—”

He gave you an unreadable look, fire burning in his eyes, then snorted and slammed the door. For a while there was silence. A slight pout painted your lips and you shifted your weight, now feeling your arousal drip down your thigh. You had thought this would be the time he would crack but he didn’t. A bit worried at the radio silence, you suddenly heard a soft, strangled groan that emerged from the other bedroom.

You smirked. It was only a matter of time before he cracked.

Hi everyone! This is my first foray into BTS fanfiction and break from indefinite hiatus, so I really hope all of you liked this sneakpeek. Honestly it’s not anything deep but I guarantee you it will edge all of you so hard :) Let me know if you’d like to be tagged!

Estimated release date: Jan 6th, 8 PM ET

#taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #bts smut #bts x reader #bts #taehyung scenarios #taehyung imagines #bts scenarious #bts imagines #yoongi smut #jungkook smut #enemies to lovers #namjoon smut #jimin smut #jungkook x reader

[spxllcxstxr]

Post-Hogwarts Enemies to Lovers with Sirius • Headcanon

(Gif not mine)

Warnings: firewhiskey mention, weed mention?, Death Eaters, curses (both language and magic), near death experiences, blood and injury mentions

Request: Hello! Can I have a Sirius headcanon please, one where it’s post Hogwarts in the time of the first wizarding war, and reader was a quiet, loner ravenclaw when she was in Hogwarts whereas Sirius was obviously very popular and loud, and they didn’t like eachother back then but now they’re in the order and dating and it’s just enemies to lovers angst to fluff 🥺 — @mabelle-cherie

A.N: Headcanons are weird because I have no idea if this is long or short. Anyway. I might’ve strayed a little away from the request? But it’s essentially the same. I think I like this one, actually...Love you all ❤️

Sirius Black was the most obnoxious entity you’ve ever encountered

James Potter was obviously a close second

Remus Lupin was tolerable, but only when his nose was stuffed in a book and when he was alone

Peter Pettigrew? He was more scared of you than you were of him. Completely harmless

They would strut around the castle, smug looks glued on their faces, like they owned the place

And you know what?

They practically did

Ever since they pulled their first prank, they’ve had the entire school wrapped around their fingers

Classmates idolized them

Teachers struggled to hide fond smiles

You despised it

You were here to sit, learn enough to get a good job, and keep your head down

The so called “Marauders” obviously had their own plans

The second Sirius witnessed you scoff and roll your eyes at another one of their stupid disruptive pranks, you were on his radar

The first time Sirius ever directly spoke to you, you were in the farthest corner of the library buried underneath a mountain of books trying to finish your three essays

You didn’t even notice him until—

“(Y/Ln), right?”

You were too busy writing about the Goblin Rebellion of 1612 to even entertain the idea of giving him a proper response

So in your haze, you just gave him your default response

“Piss off, Black.”

If you said that to any other person, it would’ve worked

But Sirius Black is not any other person, unfortunately

“Well that’s not very nice, love, now is it?”

And thus, your enemyship begins

That was in your fifth year, meaning you had about two and a half more years dealing with him and his merry band of pricks

By the next day, you were ready to toss yourself out of the Astronomy Tower

He now spots you in every room you’re in together, which is a huge inconvenience, considering you would rather be left alone and unbothered

But he prances towards you, shit eating grin plastered on his face, ringed fingers raking through his hair

He’s a pest

“Leave me alone, Black.”

“Aw c’mon, (Y/Ln), I’m just saving you from being lonely.”

“I’m not lonely.”

“Well you don’t talk to anyone. That’s lonely.”

“I talk to people, Black. I just don’t talk to you.”

You try to leave with the last laugh

You really do

“Pretty sure you’re talkin’ to me right now, love.”

His stupid infuriating smirk makes you wanna hex him into oblivion

Instead, you walk away fuming

And that’s how the rest of your time at Hogwarts goes

Sirius Black bothers the shit outta you

You tell him to go fuck himself

He doesn’t

Wash, rinse, repeat

There are a few times your patience wears so thin that you throw a couple hexes his way

You’ve reversed his knees, made his head grow four sizes too big (to finally contain that ego of his, you told him), made his toenails grow straight through his shoes, and even managed to shave off some of his precious hair

And yet he still came back

Every single time

Sirius would just brush it off and laugh like it was the funniest thing in the world

At that point, what do you do?

You try to ignore him the best you can

There are times you find him alone, drunk on top of the astronomy tower

Or high behind greenhouse number two

You like him better this way

He seems more real

Not because he’s under the influence

But because he’s not giving you a cocky smirk or a wink and laughing at every little move you make

You almost tolerate him

But then the next morning he’s back to calling you love and shouting at you at the top of his lungs across the Great Hall

And you’re back to hating him again

You’re counting down the days to graduation

And when it finally comes you bid him a firm farewell

Sirius finishes off with a “More like see ya later, (Y/Ln), love”

But you don’t care because the next day you have your bags packed to study in Bulgaria

But with one foot out the door you get an urgent letter

Something called the Order of the Phoenix

And and after carefully scanning through the contents of the letter

You unpack

And go meet up with your old Headmaster

Headquarters is a dilapidated shack on the outside

Chipped paint, broken shutters, water damage, the works

But the inside is elegant

Long purple rugs running throughout the house covering dark wood flooring, glass vases, magical artifacts strewn on top of dark counter tops

Sirius Black sitting, cigarette in one hand, twirling his wand in the other—

Sirius Black?

You almost march straight out the door

But you’ve already been spotted by Dumbledore and Alastor Moody, so you can’t exactly back out now

“Long time, no see, love, eh?”

The smirk, the attitude, the wink

It’s all there

Thankfully, he’s sitting in the middle of his friend group, so when you take a seat at the table, there’s about four people between the two of you

You smile at Alice and Frank, who you only know because they helped you with potions assignments a few years prior

You notice a glimmering ring on her finger

Everyone turns deathly serious when Dumbledore and Moody start explaining the situation with Voldemort and his Death Eaters

And how the Ministry of Magic is practically incompetent, though you knew that already

Even Sirius knew when to keep his mouth shut

He sat there, smoking, taking harsh sips of firewhiskey

Yes,

You noticed

You noticed how his fists would clench in anger

And how he silently swore

When James would put a hand of his shoulder to calm him down

And when Remus would start edging away his tumbler

He would twist the rings of his fingers

And smoke through an entire pack of cigs during the meeting

You’re not going to Bulgaria anymore, you’ve decided

Everyone got assigned stations they would patrol

Just your luck

You got Diagon Alley

With Sirius Black

You want to slam your head on the table

“Did you really bribe Dumbledore and Moody to put us together, Black?”

“It won’t be so bad, (Y/Ln), promise.”

“You’re a prat.”

“Well now that’s just rude.”

So everyday, you and Sirius donned dark cloaks that covered your faces and ambled through Diagon Alley, keeping an eye and an ear out for anything out of place

You would stop into shops, pretend to browse through items, keeping an eye on people

Sirius would convince you to get ice cream or stop in the Leaky Cauldron

You hate to admit it

But these little breaks the two of you took together were...

Nice?

The two of you would just be sat in the farthest corner of the tavern

Cigarette smoke swirling around

Eyes watching through the haze

There’s small talk between the two of you, but mostly silence

“The Potters died a month ago.”

He tells you out of the blue, eyes still trained on the other customers

You might not know Sirius Black well, but everyone knows how he ran away from his abusive home to James Potter in sixth year

“I’m so sorry, what was it, if it’s ok to ask.”

“Dragon pox.” He takes a second to exhale completely. “They were old, they knew it was coming. Just doesn’t feel right.”

So that’s how your partnership works

Sirius would be utterly insufferable during meetings and other get togethers

Silent during patrol

At least one of you would spill some secret or heartbreaking thought while on break

And then it would be back to silent concentration

Maybe you didn’t hate him anymore

But you certainly didn’t like him

About six months into your recruitment into the Order, you get a tip off about a huge Death Eater raid in a nearby Muggle village

Moody leads the rest of the Order to the village, and sure enough, there’s a crowd of Death Eaters dressed in black cloaks and silver masks already starting to make their way down the hill and into the main square

Spells are shot at an alarming rate

You’re forced to run, dodge, hide

You have have to not only fight a whole group of people happy to use Dark magic, but you have to continuously check on the numerous Muggle families asleep in their homes

It’s tiring

There’s bruises and cuts all over you

Lily had to save your arse a few times

You shoved James out of the way from the Cruciatus curse, getting hit with it instead

You were staggering, barely taking in enough air, but still you fired off spell after spell

You lean heavily against a wall, the bricks digging into your skin

The world around you spins and turns blurry

You fight to hang on, but your body is in so much pain it wants to shut down

You get cornered by a tall man in a dark cloak and a skeletal mask

“Well, well, how unfortunate.”

Your ears are ringing but you can hear him loud and clear

A gloved hand slips into his cloak and produces a silver dagger, shining in the pale moonlight

“Maybe I’ll gut you the Muggle way.”

He chuckles darkly, and you shudder in fright

The tip of the blade just touches your abdomen, the cool point sending goosebumps up your skin

You try to muster all the strength you have left in you, but it’s not enough to break free and fight back

You get ready to accept your fate

“Get off of her, you bastard!”

A figure bodyslams the Death Eater away from you

And the two of them roll around on the street, the silver of the blade flashing between the two forms

You have no idea who’s winning

You do hear a guttural cry coming from Sirius, but when you look back down, the Death Eater is apprehended and there’s a fresh and bloody cut across Sirius’ collarbone

Somehow, anger surges up in you

“You could’ve died, Sirius! You shouldn’t have been so stupid and reckless!”

You shout, pushing yourself off the wall and limping towards him

One of the Prewett twins comes to take the Death Eater away

Sirius scoffs

“Since when did you care about me?”

“You’re my partner, Sirius! Of course I care about you!”

At this point, the two of you are face to face, close enough to smell stale cigarettes and cinnamon on his breath. Copper mingles with the scent

“That’s the first time you’ve called me Sirius, (Y/n).”

He points out softly

You two are so close, eyes gazing into eyes

No, you don’t kiss

You got hit by the torture curse like fifteen minutes ago and then almost got impaled

You faint directly into his arms

How romantic

You wake up on the black velvet couch in headquarters

However, when you turn your head to the side, eyes open, you notice the head of a shaggy black dog resting near your face

Their ears are back, sad and glistening eyes staring at you, nose wet and cold.

The dog perks up when he spots that you’re awake

You hear their tail thunk against the base of the couch

You move your hand to scratch behind those soft ears

The dog whines and sighs in happiness

And then suddenly the dog in gone

And Sirius Black is kneeling at your side instead

“Always knew you were a dog.” You mumble out

“I saved you, and you call me a dog? How kind.” Sirius smiles, relieved

You soften. “Thank you, Sirius. Thought I was a goner.”

He brings a hand up to your face, his thumb rubbing your cheekbone gently “Just glad you’re safe and awake.”

You lean into his warm touch

“Can I kiss you, (Y/n)?” He asks softly, stormy eyes flicking between your eyes and your lips

You notice that he calls you by your first name

“You save me once and now you think you can kiss me, Black?”

You raise an eyebrow, but you aren’t serious.

His face falls and he opens his mouth the apologize, the thumb in your cheek stuttering

“Oh, alright, Sirius...I don’t mind.”

His face lifts back up at your smile

And he kisses you lightly on the lips

“Been waiting to do that for years.” He tells you when you finally separate for air

“Don’t be a prat, Sirius.”

And you know what?

You never hated Sirius Black

You especially didn’t hate Sirius Black now, that’s for sure

You would even say that you love him

Even when he is a prick

•

Sirius Black Taglist: @fific7 @quindolyn @msmb

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco

#Sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black headcanon #sirius black fluff #sirius black angst

[hellsbedroom]

Arvin Russell // NSFW Alphabet

arvin russell x reader

Masterlist

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Arvin needs a minute to recover, not gonna lie. He rests his forehead to yours and breathes the moment in. He’ll hold your cheek or squeeze your hand and whisper, “that was so good.” Then he always cleans you up with a damp rag and offers to get you a glass of water before laying back down. The afterglow is blissful, with your hand tracing shapes on his chest as he speaks softly and you doze off together.

B = Body part (favorite body part of theirs and their partner’s)

He never really thinks about it, but he supposes he appreciates his hands. They’re strong and lean and can be so harsh to people he wants to hurt. But at the same time they can be so soft with people he loves, especially you. He loves how you don’t mind the calloused pads of his fingers tracing over your skin after a long day at work.

And your legs could knock him flat any day. He loves their shape and how they look under any dress you’re wearing. He especially loves how good your legs feel when they’re draped over his hips when you straddle him. Squeezing your thighs is one of his favorite things in the world.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum basically)

If he can’t cum inside you, Arvin loves to cum on your chest. When you go down on him and let him drench your naked chest in cum he almost loses it. You just look so pretty and in love with him. He’s always good about cleaning it up after, especially if it got on any of your clothes. But even so, a little mess never hurt nobody ;)

D = Dirty secret (an interesting dirty secret of theirs)

He thinks about your lips all the time. Especially sitting in church, when things are supposed to be holy. He’ll dream of the curve of your lower lip or the new lipstick color you wore the day before. Thoughts of messing up that lipstick by making out or your pretty lips wrapped around his length always follow.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s had a little experience with a girl or two when he was in high school. Making out, fondling, he’s not totally new to the idea. But with you is the first time he really explores someone. And he’s a fast learner. It doesn’t take him long to figure out what makes you tick and where he can kiss you to make you moan like that. 

F = Fantasy (what’s their favorite fantasy/roleplay?)

Arvin will indulge in a nurse roleplay sometimes. You saunter in the room in a little white outfit with the red crosses and pretend to take care of him a bit (he answers everything with a smirk and “yes ma’am”) before he’s kissing you everywhere and trying to get the damn dress off. You take care of him so much in real life that a little fantasy play is the perfect way to spice things up.

G = Goofy (are they more serious or goofy in the moment?)

He can be playful with foreplay, anything to make you smile even while you’re just making out or trying to get your clothes off. But as things progress, he gets more serious. He wants to make sure you’re enjoying yourself and is so in awe of you that he sobers up and gets to work when you’re between the sheets.

H = Hair (how groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes?)

He’s not really worried about grooming, but he’ll trim if he knows that’s what you prefer.

I = Intimacy (how are they in the moment, romantic aspect)

A huge romantic. Arvin won’t always set up flowers or candles but he’s so focused on being close to you that everything else fades away. He gives constant praise and keeps his eyes locked on yours when you need it most. His favorite thing is to always be holding your hand if possible, and squeezing when either of you reaches climax. It’s a way to anchor himself to you because the moment is so important.

J = Jackoff (about masturbation)

A guy’s gotta get stress relief somehow. Especially if y’all spend a few days apart. He’ll pull one out in the shower thinking of the last time he saw your figure splayed out beneath him. Sometimes you’ll leave a few racy polaroids for him to find and they become a treasured part of the routine.

K = Kink (any kinks)

Marking you with bite marks or hickies — where no one can see, of course. Slight daddy kink (saying “c’mon daddy” will end him). Pulling his hair makes him grin and now he’s sure to keep those locks long. And of course a praise kink!!! Breathlessly moaning that he feels so good, he’s hitting the right spot, that you love him and he’s doing such a good job. All of it will send him in a tizzy.

L = Location (favorite place to do it)

His car! It gives the two of you the most privacy when you can go park in a clearing far away from everyone else. You’ve figured out just the right way to lay on the seat to make it work and Arvin hovering closely over you is nice anyway. And it gives him a little pride when he’s driving alone and thinks back to all the things you’ve done on those seats.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

A pretty new dress will do it, but what gets him most of all is when you sass him. Getting playful, sarcastically quipping at him, and teasing him with a twinkle in your eye. He cocks his head in surprise but loves it deep down. It makes him mutter “c’mere you” and chase you around, which always ends hot and heavy.

N = NO (something they won’t do, turn offs)

Hitting your face. It’s too degrading and he couldn’t bear it if he hurt you. 

O = Oral (giving and receiving)

Arvin is so eager to please, he wants to do right by you and one of the best ways he’s found is by fervently going down on you. Hearing the sounds you make and feeling you quiver around him sends him over the moon.

But you on your knees for him is a real pretty sight, too. You can make any bad day fade away with the things you do to him. He’ll never admit it, but he loves when you tease him, keeping him on the edge and driving him wild.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

If either of you have had a hard day, or you’re barely hidden in his car like giddy teenagers, he’ll be quicker and rougher. You’re breathing fast, his chest has a sheen of sweat, and his teeth glint in the darkness as he grins and takes you like there’s no tomorrow. Otherwise he’s on the slower side, taking his time to do it right. Burying himself in every inch of your form is important and you’re one of the most precious things in his life so he doesn’t like to be harsh. 

Q = Quickie (opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He has no real need for quickies; if he wants to fuck then he’s gonna do it properly and not let anyone rush him along. Especially if you’ve found a good secluded spot in the woods. Rushing it doesn’t allow him to fully appreciate you and your body anyway. On occasion it’ll happen if he has to head out to a work site for a few days and you can’t resist having him one more time.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment?)

He’s not too keen on being risky other than maybe being caught out in the woods. He likes stability when he finds it. You’re the one who has to shyly bring up new ideas in the bedroom and he might be a little hesitant, but he’s willing to try anything once. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last)

Early in the relationship Arvin busts quickly, he can’t help it. But now he can last decently long, especially because he follows the cardinal rule of getting you off first. And for stamina? The man is like an ox. As long as he has a bit of a breather between each round he can go for as long as you want.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them on a partner or themselves?)

You won’t find a lot of sex toys in 1960s small town America. Mostly he likes knowing he can get you off by himself anyway. But if you visit a big city and come back with a vibrator to play around with, he wouldn’t be opposed.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Usually Arvin gets right down to business, but he can get in moods where he’s a real tease. In public he’ll stick to pinching or swatting your ass when he’s in that mood. When you’re alone he’ll taunt, “you like that, pretty girl?” when he can tell you’re really enjoying yourself. Hearing you beg for him when he’s endlessly teasing makes his eyes blow wide and he can’t help but give in to you. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

Surprisingly, he’s not quiet. He’s no screamer but you will definitely hear that he’s having a good time. He’ll groan deep in his chest when you nip at his neck or when he’s sinking into you, and he’ll gasp your name near the finish. And he’s always talking to you in between, murmuring how good it feels.

W = Wildcard (random headcanon)

When he’s drunk: Arvin finds everything funny when he’s drunk. He chuckles at anything you do and will even take your hand and make you spin for him just so he can admire you. He leans on you more, burying his face in the crook of your neck even if you’re with friends and family. You’re always so happy to see him let loose and relax for a bit.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s in those pants)

He’s an average length and fairly girthy. Fills you up well. There’s also a curve to it that does wonders for you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Moderate. He can sometimes be really eager to get his hands on you, especially if you spend the weekend apart or something like that. Or he’ll sneak into your room late after you’ve gone on a date just to taste you again. But some days he just enjoys being around you with no pressure to perform in any way. 

Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It varies. Sometimes Arvin will be out like a light as soon as he knows you’re satisfied and cleaned up. Other times he lays awake worrying for your safety or a dozen other things, and those nights you’re there to hold him and whisper the anxieties away with sweet nothings.

#arvin russell x reader #tdatt imagine #tom holland #arvin russell imagine #arvin russell #the devil all the time

[ms-demeanor]

You are the one who reblogged a post with a bunch of resources about treating wounds and foraging and using a rifle. You, other anarchists, are where I’m getting the sense of the “life” I’m supposed to look forward to. Not movies.

You know how I know you’re not talking about me?

Because I’m actually really, really fucking cautious about not reblogging information about foraging because I literally know someone who poisoned his dumb ass foraging and died and I would not share that kind of resource with someone who I’m not 100% sure is excellent at woodcraft and has a shitload of outdoor experience. I actually pretty stridently recommend that you DON’T learn how to forage from online resources.

Juuuuuust in case I double checked my blog back through august.

What are you talking about? No forage resources or rifle resources here, at least not for the last 22 days. The one wound treatment thing I’ve reblogged this month is a link to CERT classes, which are community emergency response classes.

I don’t make a secret of the fact that I am pro gun ownership but I also don’t make a secret of the fact that I think if people are pro gun they also need to be pro gun safety education - there are way too many firearms in the US for us to *not* teach kids how to handle them safely. But I sure do NOT talk about having gun battles on this blog because I think that’s glorifying a fantasy version of a fast, easy revolution that I don’t believe in.

(however, as always, if you’re in my general area, don’t know how to use guns, and would like to learn I am available to teach you the basics, as much as social distancing and global pandemics allow anyway)

But. Also.

Buddy, let’s pretend it’s four years ago, or nine years ago, or twenty years ago. Let’s pretend that whatever party is in office doesn’t matter and is totally unrelated to everything.

Have you ever lived through a large earthquake?

A tornado?

A hurricane?

Sometimes infrastructure fails and knowing how to treat wounds is a very, very, very good idea.

Everyone should take a first aid class. I think first aid classes should be a requirement for graduating high school. I first got CPR certified with my girl scout troop when I was 12 and my mom took me to a mobile morgue class when I was 7 because my mom was the department safety coordinator for the DWP in Los Angeles and she was in charge of earthquake drills and first aid training and disaster preparedness and the Northridge quake had just happened.

I grew up taking first aid incredibly seriously, reading “Hatchet,” and my idea of fun is getting a vehicle stuck in an inland sea or going backpacking and encountering a bear. Learning woundcare and treatment for heatstroke and hypothermia is. Like. It’s a pretty big part of making sure I’m doing stupid bullshit as safely as possible.

Also, yeah, I’ve totally superglued my finger closed and used fishing finger wraps to seal a cut and used coffee stir sticks and electrical tape to make finger splint. Even with insurance it still costs me a couple hundred dollars to go to the ER or several hours to go to an urgent care, and that’s when I’ve HAD insurance. Knowing how to safely treat non-life-threatening injuries is just something you should know how to do if you’re broke in America; I’m lucky that I can afford to go to the ER now; that has not always been the case for me.

You ever hung out with really drunk friends? Do you know how to check eye tracking? Do you know how to put someone in the recovery position?

You ever had a friend get clocked with a boot in the pit? Do you know how to check pupil dilation to see if you need to get to a hospital ASAP?

Buddy, you don’t have to be worried about the end of the world to want to get prepared to handle an injury while camping and you don’t have to be an anarchist to think it’s a good idea to know how to treat heatstroke.

ANYWAY there’s this flaw in the human brain called negativity bias, which is where we remember negative, scary stuff more than we remember good, positive stuff.

I’m generally a pretty positive blogger, the resource lists I reblog tend to be things like “here are mutual aid groups” and “learn how to be a hacker” and “here’s how to support people who lose access to abortion.” If you’re getting primarily negativity out of the stuff that I’m reblogging I believe you’re missing the forest for the trees, bud.

The way to handle and cope with negativity bias is to be aware of it! If you’re sitting there going “everything is terrible!” ask yourself “is everything actually really terrible or am I only remembering terrible things?”

2020 is actually a fucking FANTASTIC example of that because there has been a lot of bad shit going on but there have also been really great examples of humans helping each other and people working to take care of each other and apparently Venus might have aliens and that’s just really fucking cool. There is a BUNCH of negative shit out there and we do hear about it all the time but don’t let that bury the positive shit.

You know what I want people to take away from that resource post? That you can and should protect your community from speed traps by reporting cops on traffic apps, and that by reporting cops on traffic apps you are doing a tangibly good thing to prevent marginalized groups from being targeted by police.

That’s a real, simple, easy thing that you can do to actually help people - speed traps don’t work if people don’t know about them and it’s why cops have tried to make it illegal for drivers to warn each other about them.

The idea that the government of the United States is going to collapse tomorrow and things will devolve into gun battles in the streets and foraging to keep from starving seems fairly farfetched but even if that does happen you know that mutual aid helped people survive the great depression, right?

And I don’t want to do the “you should feel #blessed that you’re better off than those people in POOR, UNDEVELOPED countries” thing but people get up and live their lives every day in conditions that require them to forage and navigate violent areas.

It’s shitty that people have to live like that, I wish they didn’t have to and I don’t want more people to have to live in extreme poverty in places that are violent, but it seems kind of. I don’t know. Arrogant? To decide you’re better than that so you might as well lay down and die.

“What do I have to look forward to” - buddy, the world doesn’t owe you a happy ending. You have the rest of your life to look forward to. You have friendships and laughter and cool projects and the people you’ll help someday and the people who will help you someday and sunsets and ripe fruit and meteor showers to look forward to.

Nearly everywhere in the world, through all of history, even peasants danced.

You’ve got the world to look forward to.

And if everything does go to hell in a handbasket and there are gun battles in the streets and you’re trying to make sure you’re gathering morels and not deathcaps then you’ve STILL got the world to look forward to and how you go into it is going to be up to you no matter how a fucking election turns out.

[lilyharvord]

Any headcanons about coriane and shade as teenagers

I feel so bad that I haven't finished the Chain, I've just been so busy with vet school, but I'm creeping closer and closer to finishing it. So in the meantime, have some Coriane and Shade Barrow Calore head canons.

(remember folks, these are head canons, and we have so very little to go off of so this is all that I love, which may not work for everyone.)

CORIANE:

She's always been a daddy's girl (it's just a fact, I don't make the rules). So when she is finally old enough she starts training, and Cal is the one to really work with her until he decides that she's ready to join the others training in the yard. It's brutal at first. The other kids know who she is, and who doesn't want to knock some famous person's kid down a few pegs? It takes a little while, but her group mates begin to recognize her work ethic and her mind for strategy. She quickly makes friends after that, and pushes her way to the front of the pack.

People dont fuck with her. She has perfected the Mare Barrow Scowl™️ and is very good at wearing it. If you get to know her though, she is actually incredibly kind and wants nothing more than to help people. Her "friend" Nikolas Samos is the only one who gets the "tiny, blushing smile" out of her.

At 17 she takes a school aptitude/physcial/strategic exam, and ends up in the 99th percentile. She gets so high of a score that it actually gets flagged and her file is brought before Elane Haven who uses the exam to target and recruit for her spy network. She offers Coriane a position (unfortunately, she cannot tell her parents if she accepts, and no one, not even her closest friends can know to protect her identity if need be). She accepts and begins training privately in that department. It is the ONLY* secret she keeps from her parents, and it hurts her to no end that she can't tell them, and that if something were to happen to her, they would never know why.

Coriane is an overachiever, the definition of the older sibling syndrome. She is well aware that her parents have trauma, and while they have never, ever taken it out on her or given her reason to believe she adds to that trauma, she still feels like she does. For that reason, everything must be perfect. No getting into too much trouble, no causing scenes, etc.

Dating Nikolas Samos is the first time Coriane lets herself simply live without thinking about the consequences. And is her only other secret she keeps from her parents. Unfortunately... it's probably the only time she should think about consequences. Nik's been her friend for so long though (since they were children) that she just doesn't care. It causes problems, big ones eventually.

She is hyper aware of who she is, what her father's name means. Growing up, it used to scare her, but when she's older, she learns to use it to her advantage.

Her ability as a burner fascinates her, and she spends more than enough hours with her father simply learning her limits, testing what she can do. She wants to understand it, so that she can never hurt anyone with it.

SHADE:

Resident baby, and Mama's boy of the family. He's pretty much the last Barrow cousin born. He's quiet, more thoughtful than active. He still loves to train (and he's very good at what he does), but he tends spend a lot of time reading his uncle's books and studying history. Talk about a smart cookie ((:

The definition of "I'm attractive and know it, so I will use it, thank you very much". Bisexual as fuck, can and will still your girl or your boy. He flirts better than either of his parents who are not entirely certain where he learned to do that. However, he is in no way shape or form a "fuck boy". Mare Barrow raised her son better than that. But his experience in the dating pool by the time he is 17 far exceeds his sister or anyone else for that matter.

As the resident baby of the Barrow Calore family and the Barrow family, he is able to get away with murder. So he often does, getting himself into trouble but always being able to count on his older sister or himself to get out of it.

He wants to join the military at 18. Or at least... the Montfort Guard. He loves his uncle Tyton and the other electricons and loves training and spending time with them, so joining the Guard would allow him to work with them more. Mare puts her foot down and refuses to let him. They have a very, very long argument during which Coriane tells him to stop pushing and he lets it slip that she has technically joined the "montfort secret society" which is the layperson name for whatever it is Elane Haven has built (he only found out because he followed her one day). That takes the heat off of him, but Coriane doesn't speak to him for a week. He still pushes to join though, informing his mother that he is 18 and is legally allowed to do as he pleases. He signs up the next day.

Quick and level headed in a crisis, he is who you want at your side/back in the middle of an intense fight. His parents are again not sure why doesn't have a temper like either of them

Shenanigan and prank expert. He and Coriane have a book of pranks they have performed. Greatest prank? His. Pretended to fall off the dock and into the freezing river so his dad jumped in after him only to realize he was sitting there laughing at him after. Great times. ((((:

#(*ask lily*) #(*shut up lily*) #it is I! BACK FROM THE DEAD #sort of #red queen #glass sword #kings cage #war storm #broken throne #post broken throne #coriane barrow calore #shade barrow calore #these were more along the lines of just headcanons #and less about them as teenagers #I now realize I have more headcanons about them as children than as grown people #oh well

[dumdumsun]

Forever and Never

A/N: Welcome back, luvs ❤️ Glad to have you back

Warnings: mentions of marijuana

Word Count: 2876

—————————————

Two: Gotta Have Soul

“What was school like for you?”

“Like, a regular school day?”

“Yeah, like a regular school day.”

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

A normal day of school for me was like walking around in a glass bubble. This isn’t a metaphor for personal space, but rather the concept of fitting in. Clearly, I fit in at school, but not in the way I expected to. I could walk amongst my peers and smile in their faces, talk with them, but it’d be difficult to hear through the glass of my bubble. We could reach out to each other and hope for a connection, but our hands would forever be disconnected by the glass. But they seemed to be fine with it. They didn’t want to come into my bubble, they just wanted to admire me from the outside. And I supposed I was fine with that, as well. It wasn’t like I opened my bubble for anyone, even invited anyone inside. I let Dina in once and got paranoid. Paranoid that she’d take up the air, that she’d hate my bubble and what I’d have to offer within it. So, I did what I thought was best and kindly asked her to leave. Assured her that she could maybe come back another time, when I was ready. As the sweet and considerate person that she was, she had no problem with it.

Stan didn’t need to live in a glass bubble because he didn’t need to fit in. And I’ve never needed to open the bubble myself to allow him access. He was welcome anytime and entered as he pleased. He was the only person who understood me. I realize that we had more in common than I thought. No one understood our fashion senses, our tastes in music, the way we preferred to keep to ourselves. I could breathe around him and smile and laugh, I mean actually laugh. It was just a shame it all had to wait until after school. Stan and I lived in two different worlds at school. Sometimes I’d catch a ride with him if he left his house the same time I did mine. The second we would set foot on the school campus, we were strangers. It wasn’t that we were embarrassed of each other, I just think Stan was intimidated by the crowd I attracted. Hell, I was intimidated by the crowd I attracted. I’d much rather be walking down those halls with Stan, Dina, and Sydney (if she was comfortable with me). Luckily, I had classes with each of them.

I had nearly every class with Dina, save for honor choir and theatre classes. We found a way to sit near each other in every class we had and talked about everything and nothing for the entire hour. Half of my classes were with Stanley, and those hours were full of glancing at each other and playfully winking or blowing kisses. He’d pass me notes old-school style, but always avoided the route that would lead to either Ricky or Brad. We had a couple of run-ins that led to them teasing Stan before the note could even reach me. Study hall was one of the only times Stan and I would actually sit together and talk in school. Sometimes we’d study, sometimes we’d skip and go smoke outside. Nonetheless, we’d make the most out of our time together.

I only had two classes with Sydney and both included Dina, so there still wasn’t much going on between us at school. She wasn’t as active in gym class as we were, so it was a lot of her cheering us on when we played basketball or dodgeball. She was usually the person to hand me Stan’s notes in science, having to dodge Ricky and Brad’s grabbing hands so that I could quickly snatch it. Luckily, I only had two classes with Ricky and Brad, and they both included Dina and Stan. So, I was never trapped in an uncomfortable situation with Ricky before their eyes.

Science was the most chaotic class for me. Not only did I not care for the subject, but my seat was away from both Stan and Dina. I was nearly sandwiched between Ricky and Brad, which set me on edge most days. Despite this, I simply tried my best to focus on my school work. “And yes, during arousal, there is an increase in all sorts of things, including adrenaline and, of course, blood flow,” Mr File droned on as I wrote down notes in my notebook. Dina always said she thought it was cute how I used different colors for each day. Little did she know, once I started this system, I couldn’t stop it. This was to the point that I had to buy a set of pens for each class. I couldn’t use my green math pen for my Tuesday science class. “And the blood flow continues down and then gets trapped within the corpora cavernosa. The penis expands, and this is how the Homo sapien male is able to hold an erection. Yes?”

My attention was diverted to Bradley, who raised his hand. Once he was called on, he set his hand back down and straightened his posture. “From my experience, Mr File, the holding of an erection is far more successful in the hands of a Homo sapien female.” His inappropriate joke sent an eruption of laughter throughout the classroom. I rolled my eyes in irritation.

“Very funny, Mr Lewis.” Mr File deadpanned.

“Just talkin’ science.”

“Moving on.” As my teacher turned back to the chalkboard, Ricky and Brad reached over my head to high five each other. I scoffed and continued on with my notes. From the corner of my eye, I saw Ricky turn around to speak to Sydney.

“Ah. Oh, come on, fire crotch. Laugh. That was funny.”

“Don’t be a prick, Ricky,” I hissed, the boy’s head snapping over to me. “It wasn’t even that funny.”

Ricky tilted his head at me and gave a soft smile, his hand reaching over and clasping around my wrist. “Okay, babe, I’ll leave your friend alone-”

“And don’t call me babe.” I yanked my wrist from his grasp. He froze, shocked, his mouth opening and closing as if at a loss for words.

“Mr Berry, if you could take your eyes off of Ms (Y/L/N) for one second to listen to my lecture, that would be very much appreciated.” At the sound of Mr File’s voice, Ricky quickly turned forward and returned to his notes.

“I’ll definitely try my best, sir.” He smirked, Bradley chuckling and reaching over my head again to give his friend another high five. My eyes fell on Stanley, who was watching the interaction in annoyance. When his gaze met mine, he gave me a sympathetic look. I only held my fingers in the position of a gun up to my temple and pretended to fire it. He shook his head in amusement before turning his attention back to Mr File. Glancing over my shoulder, I watched as Sydney glanced between Dina and our teacher before her gaze settled on me. She gave me a small smile and mouthed a ‘thank you’. I winked at her and gave a thumbs up. That was the start of one of the very few friendly interactions we’d have throughout the week.

On my way home from school that day, I spotted Syd and ran to catch up with her. “Hey, Sydney.” I grinned, the girl jumping a bit when I appeared by her side.

“O-Oh. Um, hey, Zip.”

“You don’t have to call me that,” I chuckled. “You’re normal.”

She smiled and stared down at her feet. “Uh… Why are you walking with me?” I frowned at her question, but she raised her head quickly. “Like, no offense, but… you usually just… keep to yourself. Or you get a ride from Stanley.”

“I stayed after for theatre rehearsal,” I shrugged. “But we never talk. We’re neighbors, Syd. And we’re both friends with Dina. Isn’t it weird we never talk?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I guess it is.”

“I’m not saying we should hang out everyday and tell each other secrets, but… you know.”

“No, yeah, I get it. I mean, Dina likes you… So does everyone else, so you must be really cool to be around.”

“Well, that’s something you can find out for the both of us. Because I still don’t get it…” I turned my head forward, my voice trailing off. We continued our journey home in comfortable silence, every now and then striking up pebble throwing contests. Sydney had a really nice smile. It was a shame she didn’t use it much. When we reached my street, our walk didn’t last much longer. “Here’s my stop.” I announced, stepping away towards the mailbox to retrieve our mail. Sydney nodded with a smile.

“I’ll, uh… I’ll see you tomorrow-”

“Oh, hey, Syd!” Stan’s voice called out. We both turned our heads to see him getting up from his porch, making his way to the middle of the street to meet Syd. “And my lovely Zip.”

“Hey, beautiful.” I winked, pulling out a couple envelopes from the box. Stanley chuckled fondly at me before looking back to Syd, who was waiting expectantly.

“Oh, my leg fell asleep. One sec,” He then began shaking and stretching his leg, Sydney standing by awkwardly. The sight alone was enough to have me quietly laughing to myself. Stan let out a sigh once he was done and planted his foot back on the ground. “Can I walk with you?”

“Sure. Why not?” Syd shrugged. Stan smiled and turned forward with her.

“Cool.”

As they walked away, I noticed one of the envelopes was addressed to me. Maybe a bit too enthusiastically, I ripped it open. Inside was a lonely check. No note. Just like last time. And the time before that. Taking out the check, my eyes bulged at the number written down. Four hundred dollars?! Four hundred fucking dollars from Dad in two weeks! I tried to think of the upcoming dates. Was Aunt Pam’s birthday coming up? Uncle David’s? Jacob’s? No one’s. So… why did Dad send me twice as much this time? My head lifted to find Stanley happily dancing back up to his house, twirling and jumping with his bare feet. I laughed at the sight. As he descended the slope to his house, he motioned for me to follow. Setting the mail on the porch swing, I pocketed my check and hurried down to Stan’s.

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

“What about this one?” I held up Elton John’s Goodbye Yellow Brick Road on vinyl. “I love me some Elton John.”

“Whatever you want, Nugget.” I heard him from the couch. Satisfied with my decision, I put the music on, nodding to the beat of Crocodile Rock as I joined Stanley on the couch. He had just taken out one of his pre-rolled joints from his case and was lighting it up.

“So…”

“So?”

“What’s up with you and Sydney Novak?” I cheekily grinned, my friend puffing on the smoke as he removed the joint from his mouth. “You wanted to… walk with her?”

“I wanted to hang out with her. We’ve never hung out before. I just thought she’d want more friends.”

“Uh-huh…” I raised a brow, taking the joint when it was offered to me. As I inhaled the smoke, Stan waved me off.

“Whatever. So… what’s been going on with you? It’s been about three weeks since you got back and you haven’t spoken a word about where you disappeared to.”

I quickly handed the joint back as I exhaled, the smoke clouding my vision. “Yeah, I don’t really wanna talk about that…”

“Oh.” Stan cleared his throat.

“Let’s just say it was… very depressing.”

“Well, what about your dad? How’s he been?”

“He’s good, I think. Working in Georgia still. Oh!” I lifted my hip a bit to retrieve the check from my back pocket. “Look at this fucking shit, Stan! My dad sends me a two hundred dollar check every two weeks. But look what I got this time.” Stan leaned over, squinting his eyes as if he weren’t seeing right.

“Four hundred?!”

“Four hundred!”

“Jesus, (Y/N), what does he do?!”

“In all honesty, Stan, I have no fucking idea. He doesn’t like talking about it.”

“Well, that’s not suspicious at all.” Stan mumbled, silencing himself by placing the joint between his lips. It didn’t take too long for our highs to kick in. When they did, we were draped over one another, lazily drawing shapes in the air. I reached over and tickled Stan’s foot, which was just beside my head. He quietly giggled and retracted his foot from me. I laughed loudly and dropped my arm.

“Stan?”

“Yeah?”

“This is where we peak, huh? This is, like, as good as it gets,” I watched as he lifted his head, attempting to make eye contact with me. “Like, we’re not gonna have shit going for us besides a lousy paycheck we slave for. And we’re gonna settle for someone who makes us all feel a little less lonely… or we just end up alone and blame everyone else for it. And then… In, like, ten years we’re gonna go to our high school reunion and then we’re gonna find out that… We all were pieces of shit at the age of seventeen and that’s as good as we got. It’s as good as we’ll ever get,” I pointed to him. “At least, that’s what you told me.”

“Nugget… you talk too much,” He flopped back onto the ground. “But yeah, you’re right. But, like… not you.”

“Not me?”

“No, you’re gonna… move away again. But for good. You’re gonna become the best… damn actress of our time and you’re gonna walk on red carpets and go on talk shows and go ‘Yeah, my best friend Stanley Barber was the best thing that’s ever happened to me’, and then-”

“That’s not how I talk!” I burst out laughing, which triggered his own laughter. We spent the next few moments rolling on the floor, trying to catch our breaths in the midst of our cackling. Even in my haze, I thought to myself, If this is where I peak, I’m the most successful of them all to peak with Stan. How could no one have wanted to hang out with him? He was the only thing that kept me sane most days with his carefree philosophy on life. There was never a dull moment with him. Never a single second of doubt in his ability to make me smile, to make me feel good about myself. And maybe it was selfish to depend on him that much, but I hadn’t even realized I’d been doing it.

When our highs almost completely wore off, I wished Stan a goodbye and headed back home. Entering the house, Jacob was just about to exit. “Oh, hey, Bug-” He stopped and sniffed. “You smell like weed.”

“You’ll live.” I smiled and walked inside. In the kitchen, Aunt Pam was making dinner while dancing to the music on the radio. Upon my arrival, she clapped and went to hug me.

“(Y/N), how was your-” She stepped back and sniffed. “Ugh, you smell like weed…”

“Sorry.”

“I honestly don’t care. But I wanted to tell you that you should call your dad. It’s been a couple of weeks with no call. Remember he said he’d check on you every other day?”

“I remember. I’ll call him right now.” Heading upstairs to my room, I pulled out my cell phone. I accessed my contacts before pressing on my dad’s, holding the phone up to my ear. When the call was answered, there was no greeting. Just faint breathing from the other end. “Uh… Dad-”

“Hey, sweetheart,” He rushed out, sounding out of breath. “What- What did you call for?”

“What did I… Dad, you said you’d call me three times a week. It’s been two weeks with no call.”

“You’re right, you’re right, doll.” He sighed. I frowned in disgust. He never called me ‘doll’. “How’s school going? Straight A’s?”

“Um… not really,” I mumbled as I entered my bedroom, setting my backpack on the ground before flopping on my bed, sighing contently. “A couple of B’s, but I’m trying. Uh, I got the check.”

“Yeah, yeah, your allowance.” He huffed.

“Uh-huh… but you gave me twice as much.”

“Yeah, for homecoming. Pam said it was next week.”

“Oh, yeah…,” I rolled onto my back. “Almost forgot.”

“Yeah, so just… buy yourself something pretty- Listen, sweetheart, I’ve gotta go, but I promise to call you in two days.”

“Okay, Dad. Love you-” I was cut off when he abruptly hung up the phone. Sighing, I let my arm flop down beside my head. If I had to be completely honest, that was normal behavior from my dad lately. Sure, I mentioned he wasn’t present in his mind, but this was different. He was clearly occupied. Very occupied. I brushed it off as him being hard at work, but…

Something told me there was more going on with my Dad. And it scared me.

—————————————

Taglist: @melinda-hargreeves @sapphicsyn @stqnley @lonely-kermit @give-the-boy-a-hug @moatsnow

#i am not okay with this #ianowt #stanley barber #stanley barber x reader #stan barber #wyatt oleff #wyatt oleff x reader #i am not okay with this x reader #ianowt fanfic #ianowt x reader #ianowt stanley barber #forever and never

[yukheistics]

liar, mark lee.

pairing mark lee x reader

word count 2.5k

genre angst, slight fluff

warning(s) implication of cheating

note i’m experimenting with writing styles, so bear with me on this one hehe! this concept is inspired by the ways we lie by stephanie ericsson. i finished this at 2am so idek (⊙‿⊙✿)

summary he knows how to lie. he knows how it works. he knows you.

There are many things Mark Lee is good at. 

He knows how to rap, sing, and dance until his lungs are on fire. He knows how to plaster a smile on his face when his company offers another tiring position for him to be in. He knows how to pretend that everything is alright for him to handle. He knows how to lie.

He has a thing or two for semantics and can construct a deception for one to believe in. He maintains his composure, sticks to his story, and walks around the truth more often than he can think. He claims to dislike lying, but the person he often does it to is you. He likes to think of it as a way of protecting you as unpleasant as it really sounds. 

“Have you told her yet?” Donghyuck asks him after dance practice when it was just the two of them alone. He looks concerned for him. “The sooner you tell her, the better. You know that.”

Mark simply shrugs his shoulders and leans his back on the mirror. “’Hyuck, just—I’ll handle it, okay? I just don’t know how to tell her.”

“Simple,” the younger male starts to wipe his sweat off with his shirt and sits next to him. “Tell her about the contract. It’ll ease her mind knowing that her boyfriend isn’t actually cheating on her.”

“Right.”

“She already put a lot on the line for you. The least you can do is tell her the truth.”

He recalls an essay he has read in his junior year of high school: The Ways We Lie by Stephanie Ericsson. It made him aware of the underlying cancer that grows within our mind that society accepts the fact that everyone lies. It’s a trait that has been embedded in the human mind for so long that it is almost impossible to get rid of.

There are ten ways listed, but all he remembers are four prominent ones: white lies, facades, omissions, and delusions. (He utilizes it all.)

“Baby, I’m fine.”

Mark reassures you. He never lies to you—not even a white lie, but he doesn’t want to worry you with his issues. It is his problem, anyways. He couldn’t find the right flow to the rap verse they assigned him to, no matter how many times he does it. Something is missing. He’s way off, he thinks. 

“Okay, fine,” you pout through the video call and cross your arms. “But if there is something wrong, you have to tell me. Even if you know I am sleeping because of our shitty time zones, you still have to call me just to tell me. I don’t care!”

He laughs wholeheartedly and grins at you. “Of course.”

“You better, Mark Lee,” you shake your head in a taunting manner. “Or else, I will go to South Korea myself and force the answer out of you. Wait, that’s too aggressive, but you get what I’m saying, right?”

“I’m still surprised I understand you in general,” he jokes and stands up to get a glass of water. “But baby, I’m fine. You know how comeback season works, it’s like, a routine at this point.”

“I know,” you address. “Just make sure to get lots of rest and know your limits. I don’t want my baby boy getting sick while I’m in another country studying law.”

He blushes at the nickname and rubs the back of his neck. “Of course. I always know my limits.”

“Take a break.”

Mark looks up from the lyric sheet and sees Taeyong staring right at him. He clenches his jaw and pushes the headset down to his shoulders before opening the door of the recording studio. “I’m fine. I just need more time. I keep messing up a verse.”

“The producer said your voice was already good during your eighth recording. You are at your twelfth right now,” the leader pauses and pats his shoulder. “I understand where this is coming from, but you never acted this way over a recording. Is everything okay?”

He looks down at his shoes. “Yeah, you know me. I have a tendency to try and perfect it the least. It’s the least I can do to our fans.”

“Just don’t push yourself. It’s already midnight. Make sure to get some rest,” Taeyong purses his lips and playfully hits his shoulder. “Plus, what would ____ think if she knows you’re not taking care of yourself, huh?”

Mark almost crumples the contract in his hands. “She’d be pretty concerned—and mad.” He pushes the chair back and runs his fingers through his hair. “Fuck, why did I agree to this?”

At this point, he wears a facade for you. He keeps saying things again and again and hopes to God that you haven’t caught on to his act. It’s a one man play. And you’re the only one watching. He looks at his best friend, who pushes a mug of green tea towards him—as if it will solve all of his problems. It won’t. 

“Why did you?” Donghyuck repeats and looks at him with concern. He has known Mark for the past ten years, but he can never understand the impulsive decisions he makes. It’s one to be dedicated to a job, but it’s another to be impulsive. “Mark, you’re gonna break her if you don’t tell her.”

Mark laughs. He glances down at the hot steam coming from the mug before looking at his best friend. “You think I don’t know that, ‘Hyuck?”

“Tell her,” the other boy urges on. “Tell her how you signed a contract that states you agreed to be in a relationship for the time being for the new group’s sake. Technically, it is the truth.”

“It’ll make her more stressed. She’s already stressed with law. I don’t need this to be a part of her concern.”

“Then, tell me,” Donghyuck finally sighs. “Tell me what you’re gonna tell her when you’re on the headlines for being in a secret relationship with a trainee?”

Mark clearly knows his faults and weaknesses. He is partaking in another version of lies: omissions. He tells you the truth by excluding one or more key components of it. You don’t need to know everything, is what his mind says when he sees you through the camera exhausted, but still excited to see him. You ask questions and he answers with the important parts being left out. He asks questions and you answer with utter honesty because he knows you too well. 

(You don’t need to know.)

“Yujin,” Mark enunciates and looks at her with a tilt of his head. “Do you think this is right by any means?”

She hums. “Well,” she takes a sip from her drink. “It’s what the company wants right? It’s their word against ours—and you should know how this industry functions at this point. It’s a bunch of manipulation and shit that is geared towards perfection, which is only utilized to please the public eye.”

“Well, I know that,” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “I mean about this—our relationship.”

She giggles. “We’re getting paid anyways. What’s so bad about kissing in front of the camera at events to please fans?”

“Right,” he replies with a strained laugh. “I just find the idea nerve-wracking.”

She frowns at him. “Mark, are you okay?”

Here is what he learned from the entertainment industry: people don’t really want to know how you feel. The truth, they never want that. When they ask how are you, they don’t wanna know. They just ask because they feel like they have to. They don’t want you to elaborate on how you really are. It’s something that they do to make them seem like a good person. They do it for their part and not his. 

No. The two letter word burns on his tongue, but just like a mechanized script, the words that leave his mouth is a lie that he has told multiple times that leave people with a nonchalant smile on their lips: “Yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He sees you for the fifth time this week, dressed in sweats as you cradle a bowl of cereal in your hands with a goofy smile on your face. “What?” you curiously ask with the spoon in your mouth. “Am I that pretty, Mark?”

“You’re always pretty,” he responds immediately with a slight smirk on his lips, which in turn causes you to blush. “I miss you.”

You smile. “I miss you more.”

He sees your tired smile once more and sighs. He wants to tell you, really, but he doesn’t want to see that smile slip from your features knowing that it is his fault. But he knows that he will be the reason you will be crying in the following week. It’s for you, he repeats in his head, it’s for you. 

I need to let you go.

“Imagine if I just became an idol, hm?” you suddenly say. “I’d probably see you more and not stress about stupid bar exams for the time being.”

Don’t. Please don’t. He urges to say, but he just shakes his head and sheepishly grins at you. “Well, if you did become one, you’d probably be a singer. I still remember when you were drunk and sang to me—”

“You said you wouldn’t bring that up!” Despite the virtual connection, he can still clearly see your flushed cheeks. Again. (He really loves you.) “That was so fucking embarrassing.”

“It was adorable.”

“Right,” you close your eyes and lean your face closer to the camera. “I love you, Mark Lee.”

“I love you too,” he responds immediately. “One day,” he rubs his eyes. “One day, I’ll finish my contract and I can be with you. We can be together. That sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

To think, he has already planned out his life with you in his mind, but he knows it’s impossible. But not only does he aim to deceive you, but to deceive himself too. It’s a delusion as Ericsson would describe it to be. It’s funny how he cannot remember a preponderance of things, yet he always remembers how delusion was described: filters out information that contradicts what we want to believe. He is building a perception of a perfect world with you, where he wouldn’t have to think about his image for a second. It’s too good to be true. It’s not real.

“It does. It really does,” you say, but the tone of your voice says otherwise. “Just promise me one thing?”

“What is it?”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Mark Lee.”

The blinding lights of the studio almost make him want to throw up. Mark watches how the staff are preparing the set and how his management are talking over the script with the interviewer. He looks at himself through the mirror one more time before facing Yujin, who is busy fixing her eyelash extensions. 

“So, the interview is gonna be live,” Yujin drawls out, puckering her lips and tilting her head at him. “Mark, be honest with me,” she taps his shoulder. “Do you hate me?”

He widens his eyes and shakes his head. “No, I don’t. I swear!”

“You sure? Because every time we talk, you look glum. You tend to zone out.”

“It’s really not because of you,” he utters. “Let’s just say, I didn’t expect the company to agree to this for publicity.”

She nods in acknowledgement. “Is that all?”

Mark thinks of Yujin as a catalyst. She’ll be the one to speed up the duration of his relationship with you and destroy whatever he has built for you. Not that any of this was hers to control. He wishes he can hate her, but all she has ever done was sign her name on a contract the same as he did. If anything, Yujin is a spawn in a much bigger scheme that acts as the catalyst. 

“Yeah, that’s all.”

Mark feels dizzy. His eyes are overwhelmed by the numerous flashes from cameras and the questioning voices of reporters. He pulls down his cap as if it’ll do him any justice and wraps his arm around Yujin—as told by the company. “I didn’t know the reporters were gonna be this much.”

“Well, since our management wants our relationship to blow up, it’d make sense in a way,” she exhaustedly replies when he opens the car door for her. “Just smile and pose, Markie,” she says and leans in for a kiss on his cheek when she catches a camera aimed their way.

He freezes. 

“Show business is show business,” she whispers in his ear and gets in the car. “It’s a cruel world we live in, isn’t it?”

Mark calls you, but he understands why you haven’t picked up in the past week. He already can see your tear-stained cheeks and hear your stifled sobs. He wishes he can tell you the truth, but he’d rather let you go with a lie. He’s good at that. He’s good at lying. He’s lied before to you. It should be easy.

“It’s been going on for the past months,” he tells you. “I-I didn’t know how to bring it up, so I just—”

“Decided to let me see it for myself?” you cut him off, chuckling nervously. “God, Mark, this whole damn time I have thought to be with you, you’ve been off fucking a trainee?”

Mark almost grimaces. But he maintains the composure he has left for himself and nods slowly. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie until it feels right. “It just happened. One day, we were practicing and we clicked. At first, I thought it was a one-time thing to distract myself. I just needed a friend at the time,” he pauses. “One thing led to another and we slept with each other, okay? And I just lost feelings for you. I only continued our relationship because I felt obligated to.”

It’s a lie. It’s a lie. It’s a lie.

He loves you. He has always loved you, regardless of the distance between you. The only reason you had to move was because of his debut; the company did not want any news spreading about him being in a relationship, yet they were the ones pulling the strings as of right now. They explained how their new girl group was not selling well, and the infamous Mark Lee was a way to solve the problem. Mark, do this, Mark, do that. Mark, pretend. Just smile and pose. Smile. Smile beneath the lie. 

He can’t keep doing this to you.

“You did so much for me, so I kept calling you as a means to return the favor.”

He sees it. He sees the tears building up in your eyes as you force on a smile and laugh again. “What am I? A charity case?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I hate you.” 

He knows you too well. He knows that you’re putting a front—don’t we all? He thinks of the white lie you’re uttering, the facade you’re wearing, the omission you’re doing, and the delusion you’re forcing yourself into. He knows how to lie. He knows how it works. He knows you. 

“I know.” I know that’s a lie.

#mark lee #mark lee scenarios #mark lee x reader #mark lee x you #mark lee imagine #nct masterlist #nct 127 #nct dream #nct u #superm #nct fluff #nct angst #mark lee angst #mark lee fluff #nct imagines #nct imagine #nct scenario #nct scenarios #mark lee imagines #mark lee fanfic #nct oneshot #nct fanfic #lee donghyuck #lee taeyong #lee haechan #mark lee oneshot #masterlist

[jalapeno-princess]

How Do I Get Over You?

Mark Tuan X Reader

Genre: It’s so fucking sad guys let me just tell you that

Word count: 6.5K

Summary: Hey guys! So I was driving the other day and “Driver’s License” by Olivia Rodrigo came on and at first, I didn’t understand the hype but then I kept listening to it and this imagine popped in to my mind and now I’m sad. I’m almost done with part 3 of my fuckboy series so please stay tuned and thank you all for your patience. By the way, one in a million is a fucking BOP I’m so proud of my boy :(((((((( Mark Tuan deserves the universe. Okay happy reading (or should I say have fun crying)

I got my driver's license last week Just like we always talked about 'Cause you were so excited for me To finally drive up to your house But today I drove through the suburbs Crying 'cause you weren't around

And you're probably with that blonde girl Who always made me doubt She's so much older than me She's everything I'm insecure about Yeah, today I drove through the suburbs 'Cause how could I ever love someone else?

And I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me 'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

“P stands for?”

“Park.”

“Good. R stands for—“

“Reverse.”

“Good. N stands for—“

“Babe. We’ve been over this about ten times in the last week. I know the controls already. I just want to drive.” 

You had gotten your permit a little over two weeks ago and you were more than excited to finally get on the road. You’ve been wanting to drive since the time you were old enough to understand what driving was. Watching your parents turn the steering wheel, press on the gas, accelerate and park—it just seemed like so much fun. 

All of your favorite characters in the television shows you enjoyed watching knew how to drive—or at least that’s what you assumed when you were still young. Once you hit your pre-teen years, you understood that they were just pretending to drive—that it was just “television magic” that gave the illusion of them driving a moving vehicle but that didn’t stop you from wanting to learn. Your boyfriend Mark had gotten his license when he was only sixteen years old. 

Technically, it was considered an intermediate license which meant there were a lot of rules he had to follow. He wasn’t allowed to drive without someone over twenty one years old, there could only be three passengers in the car at a time and he had a curfew of 10 o’clock p.m. As much as you begged your parents to allow you to start studying for your permit back when you were sixteen, they wanted you to focus on finishing high school before taking on such a big responsibility that came with being a licensed driver. 

That didn’t stop your boyfriend from taking you out against your parent’s will and teaching you everything he knew about driving. Mark was almost five years older than you. You first met the older boy when you were in the second grade and he was right about to move up to the seventh grade. He was your oldest brother’s best friend at the time; the two of them were like two peas in a pod. 

Where one went, the other one followed closely behind. If one joined a sport, so did the other. They were like magnets—always needed to be together. It was like that up until their sophomore year in high school. Isn’t wasn’t as though they had bad blood between them. Sometimes friends just grow distant. 

Mark joined the football team whereas your brother was more of a soccer kind of guy. Their schedules began to collide a lot and it was actually pretty sad. Everyone who knew of the two of them just assumed that they were going to be friends forever, but it was only natural for both Mark your brother to go their separate ways. 

Deep down, you’ve always harbored feelings for Mark. It was inevitable; you saw him almost every single day for the last six years. Although he could be a pain in the ass sometimes; not allowing you to join him and your brother as they would play video games, taking the last cookie from the cookie jar, making fun of your drawings in order to get under your skin—there was a point where you ended up hating him because you felt as though he had it out for you. But as the years went by and the two of you grew older, he became more kind-hearted and gentle around you. 

Whenever he’d come over, he’d ask you how school was going, what you were interested in, if you needed help on any of your assignments and he would even buy you some snacks before heading over to your house. It didn’t help that he became more and more handsome with age—driving you to the brink of insanity each and every time you’d have to see him. When he and your older brother nonverbally ended their friendship, you were crushed. 

Sure, you felt really bad watching the two of them over the years growing such a bond that you assumed would last forever only to decide that they were too busy to spend any time together. But you felt even worse knowing that Mark was no longer going to be in your life. When you turned fourteen and moved on to high school, you decided to join the track team because your parents claimed that they wanted you to have a good high school experience. 

The first week of practice was actually pretty fun—albeit a little bit strenuous and tiring, but it was enjoyable. Little did you know that following week, your coach would bring in two previous students to help assist him in bringing your team to success. If you thought Mark was extremely good looking already, you were in for quite the surprise seeing him for the first time in two years since the end of his friendship with your brother. 

Time was always so good to him; in fact, he looked much better now than he did when he was sixteen. Braces, bad haircut and the pitchy voice no longer existed. His voice was much deeper now, he was grazing six feet, his cheekbones were more prominent and his features were seemingly more sharper. He was just as excited to see you as you were to see him. 

Maybe you imagined it in your mind, but deep down, you couldn’t stop smiling at the thought of getting to spend time with Mark again. You didn’t think much about being around him again—he was an assistant coach. He was there solely to help you with training and you were sure he probably saw you as his childhood best friend’s silly younger sister. However, you were quick to pick up on how Mark seemed to give you most of his time and attention. 

He’d give your teammates excuses as to why he couldn’t help them or why he needed to coach you the most. At first, you assumed he was just trying to be nice because the two of you somewhat had a past together, but as the days went by and your conversations went beyond track and field—you were confident that his friendliness had nothing to do with the fact that you were well acquainted with one another. 

Your friendship with Mark only got more and more tight knit to the point where you found yourself hanging out with him outside of school. It didn’t take long for your friendship to develop in to something more. Something beautiful—something, indescribable. 

Seeing Mark again and spending majority of your days with him only brought back your feelings tenfold—especially because you were no longer a ten year old little girl anymore crushing on her brother’s best friend from a distance. You were old enough to understand what love was—or what you assumed was love and it didn’t take a genius to know that what you felt for Mark was more than just a small crush. 

Since he was so much older than you, you pushed back the thought of him reciprocating your same feelings. He was a college student. He was devastatingly handsome, intelligent, outgoing, athletic, hardworking and very kindhearted. There must have been so many girls at his campus who threw themselves at him—he was a literal Greek God. 

Guys like Mark were never single and although you didn’t consider yourself close enough to know what his exact type was, so you were confused and shocked yet over the moon when he stole a quick kiss from your lips and confessed his feelings for you while the two of you were out eating ice cream. You didn’t think there was anything wrong with the age difference—Mark was practically an older brother to you and you trusted him with your entire being. 

However, you decided to keep him a secret in the fear that some people wouldn’t be so accepting of your relationship. Dating Mark was a dream. For the last three years, he’s shown you nothing but so much love, affection, adoration and happiness. He taught you how to love yourself—he took his time learning every little thing about you. 

Mark Tuan was the actual love of your life and you didn’t care if you were still too young to know what love was. You’ve known it since you were six years old that the older boy was the person you wanted to give your entire being to. You wanted Mark for as long as you could possibly have him for. 

He was very good in showing you and telling you on a daily basis exactly how much you meant to him and how he’s never been so in love with someone the way he he was with you. It all felt too good to be true. To love him and be loved by him—God it was such a wonderful feeling. 

Before Mark, your life was so colorless—so dull. Waking up in the morning felt like a chore. You had to motivation to really do anything besides your responsibilities and you just assumed that it came with being a teenager. But when he stumbled in to your life again, it’s like something awakened inside of you. You’ve never felt more alive. 

He gave you a reason to roll out of bed. He gave you the motivation to want to go out and go on adventures. To enjoy life and it’s many wonders. He made you the happiest girl on earth and you were never going to take his presence and his position in your life for granted. 

“I know silly girl, and you will. I just want to make sure you know everything by heart. As much as I seem like an easy instructor, and how big of a pushover I am whenever it comes to you, I want you to be safe baby. The road is a dangerous place—“

“Yeah I know, I mean—you’re on it all the time—“

“Hey! I am an amazing driver. I’m a natural y/n. I was born to drive. Some people just have it in them and others—well others take a while to learn.” 

You had a feeling he was hinting towards you, so you leaned over to playfully shove him but his reflexes were much quicker than yours. He placed a sloppy kiss on your lips before pulling away; earning himself a soft groan. 

“Okay, press on the brake and then lift the lever to put it in drive—good. Just like that. Now slowly, press on the gas. Good job baby. Now—you can speed up a little bit faster—I said a little bit—y/n!” 

You failed to notice the speed bump until you and your boyfriend practically flew forward. Maybe driving wasn’t as fun as you assumed it would be and by the look of nervousness on his face, you could tell Mark was soon regretting that he offered to teach you in the first place. 

A small pout soon rose on your face; sure this was the first time you were actually driving the car and you weren’t meant to be a professional on your first lesson. But you still felt a wave of  disappointment since you couldn’t even do something so simple as to driving at a slow pace. How did your boyfriend make it seem like it was the easiest thing on earth to do?

Most of the time, he’d only use one hand to steer the wheel and he’d always have his knee propped up—making it seem effortless. He was right though; there were some things he was extremely talented with that you practically suck at and there were some activities such as ice skating and baking that Mark could never succeed no matter how hard he tried. 

You acted out of instinct; hitting the steering wheel in anger and abruptly putting the car in park. One of the traits you could care less about was your stubbornness. If something didn’t go your way, you were quick to grow angry and give up on whatever it was entirely. That’s just the kind of person you were and sometimes, you’d try to work on improving yourself because you hating lashing out on anyone for no reason. 

Especially your boyfriend. Luckily Mark was very understanding and patient whenever you grew frustrated with something and he was very good with calming you down and making you feel better. Which is why it came as no surprise to feel one of his hands graze against your thigh as the other gently wrapped around your neck. His thumb glided against your nape and he began to leave gentle kisses along your cheek. Only then did you realize you were tearing up and it made you feel so pathetic. 

“Baby.” 

You didn’t want to look at him; you were sure that if you were to see the look of remorse in his eyes that you would cry like a baby and that was the last thing either of you needed at the moment. You just wanted to give up and have him take you back home. It was pointless. 

Now you understood why your parents were so against teaching you how to drive. You weren’t even 18 yet. What did you know about adulting and everything that came with being an adult? Why were you trying so hard to rush your age? Why did you want to mature so quickly? 

There was so much you had yet to experience—driving could come later. However, you felt like in order to be on the same level as your boyfriend, you needed to know how to drive. It was always him coming to pick you up from school or your house and he was always the one dropping you off. 

Although he’s never complained about it once, nor has he asked you to pay for his gas or anything like that, you couldn’t help but feel like such a burden and you wanted to do this so that you could take care of him as much as he was with you. 

He’d come drive twenty minutes to your house in the middle of the night if you couldn’t fall asleep and you were well aware there was a big chance he was tired as hell. But he came to you every single time. Sure, he’d fall asleep not to long upon arrival—yet you’d feel so safe and warm just having him around and being wrapped in his embrace. 

Sometimes, tension would rise at your house; whether your parents would argue with each other, or scold you for something so minuscule—all you wanted to do was run to your boyfriend and find solace in him. Since Mark was in college though, you knew he had a lot on his plate and you didn’t want to add on to his stress by worrying him about problems you were old enough to handle on your own. He had to get irritated with you every now and then—he was only human. 

Having your girlfriend call you at the most randomest times to come pick her up or to console her as she cried had to be burdensome. Just like right now, he was probably annoyed that you only drove one foot and ended up slamming on the breaks in his car. You weren’t too sure how cars worked, but the way you were so rough with the controls probably wasn’t a good thing to do. 

“Hey, why are you crying?” 

You continued to sit there, forcing your attention on the dashboard and hoping that he would just drop it. However, you’ve known the older boy long enough to realize that he wasn’t going to stop prying at you until you told him what was wrong. He allowed you to let it all out—you weren’t sobbing, but a few tears fell from your cheeks as you began to heaven silently. 

Mark ran his fingers through your hair and tried to pull you towards him, but decided to let you be until you were ready to find comfort in him. If Mark was anything, it was considerate. You were confident that he was upset seeing you cry—especially because he must have known you were disappointed in yourself. Your boyfriend was very vocal about how much he despised hearing you degrade yourself and talk negative about your abilities because in his eyes, you were the most wonderful human being to walk this earth. 

Nobody was perfect; but to him, you came really close. After a couple of moments, your cries slowly dissipated and to your confusion, he got out of the passenger seat. Right as the question of where he was going fell from your lips, he opened the driver’s door and motioned for you to get up. You were about to get out of the car completely in attempts to head to the passenger side; maybe you weren’t ready to physically learn to drive just yet. 

Maybe he was going to teach you a little more from the driver’s manual and from his personal experience before allowing you back in the driver’s seat and honestly, you couldn’t blame him. He was already doing so much for you; allowing you to drive his car and putting not only his and your lives at risk, but the tip top shape of his truck and even his clean driving record since you weren’t under his insurance. 

However, before you could do anything, you were being pulled on top of his lap as you felt his mouth smash up against yours. It took you a while to process the entire situation going on in front of you—kissing Mark had to be your favorite past time. His lips were your favorite drug and you could wholeheartedly confess that you were addicted. 

You’d find any and every reason to kiss him. Even when you were in places that you should have refrained from any kind of skin ship with your boyfriend, you couldn’t go too long without feeling his soft lips meld perfectly with yours. Mark’s lips were one of your favorite features on him. Not only were the prettiest shade of pink, but they were plump and heart shaped. 

When you finally came to your senses, you deepened the kiss and allowed him to shove his tongue inside of your mouth. You could feel him literally take your breath away the longer his mouth was on yours but you weren’t complaining. You would rather spend the rest of the day kissing him and even a little more than to attempt driving again. To your dismay, he hesitantly pulled away—making it obvious that he was fine continuing what the two of you were doing, but the urge to tell you what was on his mind was a little more overbearing. 

“Mm—Mark—“

“If you were crying because you were upset with yourself over what just happened, then I need you to know that it’s okay baby. Please understand that it’s a learning process. I’m sorry if I seemed mad or if I raised my voice—I really didn’t mean to I just—I don’t know. I really don’t. Whether it’s because the thought of you in any kind of danger scares the shit out of me or because I don’t want you to grow up just yet—I don’t know what came over me and I’m sorry. But don’t you dare for a second beat yourself up about this okay? I’m so fucking sorry y/n. I’m trying to be a good teacher for you and I know you want to hurry up and get your license which I promise, I will make sure you do. Don’t be too hard on yourself okay? I know, I probably didn’t make things any easier with how I reacted a few minutes ago but driving can be terrifying. Every single time I’m on the road, it may not seem like it but I’m nervous out of my mind especially when you’re in the car with me. The thought of hurting you or being the reason why something bad happens to you drives me crazy. I’m so protective over you, now I can see why your parents are so against you driving. Ah, I’m bad at this.”

His words pulled tightly on your heartstrings like they never failed to do whenever he showed you or went in to explicit detail about how you meant the entire world to him. Mark wasn’t the kind of guy who act all big and intimidating—like he didn’t have feelings. Most of his friends tried to pretend as though they were manly and didn’t care about anyone but themselves. Your boyfriend on the other hand was the complete opposite. Mark was excited to show you off to each and every single person in his life or that the two of you would encounter. He didn’t care if it was considered “feminine” to have and show emotions. 

He’d cry so easily at sad movies, or ads about sick children and animals in shelters. He’d cry if life could get a little too much for him to handle and if anything, it made him so much more of a man than those who tried so hard to conceal their inner feelings. This wasn’t the first time he confessed something so heartfelt to you, it’s happened on multiple occasions and it just really solidified the love he held for you. 

Not once in your three years of dating did you ever question Mark’s feelings for you and you could only pray that you’ve shown him generously the exact same amount of infatuation that he’s never failed to give you. You repositioned your body so that you were face to face with him and wrapped your arms around his neck, placing a delicate kiss on his jaw and giving him a soft smile. 

God, what did you do to deserve someone so selfless, so caring, so gentle and kindhearted, someone who gave you the world on a silver platter and treated you as if you were the most perfect little flower? He gave you a pout, obviously upset with the idea of you being sad and you found yourself bringing your hands up to either side of his face and lifting his lips up in to a smile. 

“Don’t be sorry babe. If anyone should be sorry, it should be me. I kept begging you to take me out to teach me and even if you were hesitant, which you have your reasons to, you never said no because you know how much this means to me and how eager I am to finally start driving. I—I know you’ll probably think I’m an idiot for thinking like this and you’ve never done anything or aid anything to make me feel like this, but I consider myself such a burden to you—don’t look at me like that. I’m so grateful you are the way you are and I’m truly so blessed to call you my boyfriend. I’m just saying that if it were anyone else, they’d probably grow frustrated having to drive so much for me and because of me. I’m sure you’ve spent at least $1000 on gas money from having to drop me off and pick me up. I know—you do it because you love me, because you want to see me and spend time with me and because you’d do anything for me—but I know I tend to reach out to you at all the inconvenient times. I want to be able to do something for you for once. You said so yourself, you can’t wait till I started driving so that I can drive up to your house whenever you want to see me. Thank you for trying, and thank you for being so patient with me. I want to make you proud Mark. I’m already so much younger than you. Your friends probably wonder why you’re stuck dating a child. I’m not old enough to drink or go out to bars and clubs. I can’t even buy nail polish remover or Benadryl on my own. Im selfish. My desire to hurry up and get on the road goes beyond being able to drive. I want to be a girlfriend you can proudly show off to everyone—“

“Do I not do that enough already? Did I say something or did something to make you feel like our age difference or the fact that you’re only seventeen and I’m twenty-three is a problem to me? Because it’s not babe. Sometimes I forget that you’re still so young because you act so mature and you have such a good head on your shoulders. If it wasn’t for your cute little baby face, I would assume you were around my age. I don’t give a shot about what anyone has to say or think about our relationship. The only people who’s opinions matter to me is yours and mine. No. You’re not a burden at all. Ever. So take that stupid thought out of your head. Yes, I can’t wait for you to finally get your license but it’s not for the reasons you think. If you ever want to run away from home, I don’t want you having to wait almost half an hour for me to come get you. Once you start working, I don’t want you to catch the bus or walk home if I or one of your family members are not able to pick you up. Your safety is my number one priority next to your happiness. We can still keep practicing if you want to baby, but don’t feel like you have to drive if you’re doing it for me. Do it for yourself. I love you more than you will ever be able to fathom okay? You’re it for me. You’re my person—my soulmate. The only person I see myself spending my entire life with. I hope you know that I’m going to be the one who teaches our kids how to drive one day. I don’t need them crashing or totaling the car because you failed to teach them right—hey! What? I’m just being honest baby you’re lucky you’re cute. But seriously though y/n, don’t you ever for even just a second doubt your place in my life and what you mean to me.”

This had to be the coldest winter yet in California. You were currently in your car and the heater was on high, but you were freezing. You didn’t know what led you to sneaking out of your house at two in the morning; you couldn’t find it in yourself to fall asleep. 

These last few months, you developed insomnia. No matter how hard you tried; taking sleeping pills, mentally counting sheep, staring at the ceiling in the hopes that your eyelids would close sooner or later, nothing seemed to work. After throwing on a jacket and some sweatpants, you tiptoed downstairs towards the living room and tried your very best to quietly close the door—not wanting to wake up your parents. 

There was so much animosity between you and them that you blamed heavily on yourself. You only ever talked to them if they approached you first and even then, it was nothing more than a few sentences. As soon as you got in to your car that they got as a congratulations present for getting your license a little over two weeks ago, you started to drive with no destination in mind. 

All you wanted to do was get as far away from reality as possible. You decided that you’d go wherever the road took you. Thankfully, since it was so early in the morning, there was hardly anyone on the road which meant you didn’t have to put too much effort in to driving. Your entire body felt numb—and it wasn’t because of the freezing weather. 

You were so deep in to your thoughts, not paying any mind to your surroundings that you failed to notice where you ended up heading to. This road was so familiar; you’ve been down it more than a hundred times in the past few years. It was imprinted on both your mind and your heart. 

Of course your subconscious would lead you here. It’s been a while since you’ve last took a trip down this street—you no longer had a reason to since that heartbreaking night a little over six months ago. That night had to be the worst in your entire eighteen years of your existence. All of a sudden, the painful memories of Mark leaving you alone in your backyard right after he ended your four year relationship as if it was the easiest thing to do came rushing back like a slap to the face. 

I’m sorry, but I just can’t do this anymore. 

He asked if he could come over and you didn’t think much of it. He spent most of his time over at your house only because the two of you had more privacy since it was just you and your parents whereas all three of his siblings and their families all lived at home. 

When he arrived, you were quick to pick up on the fact that he seemed tense; as if something was wrong. You didn’t think much of it, maybe he had a hard day at work or school. If only you knew then what you knew now, you would have approached the situation much more differently. 

As you tried to reach out for his hand, he abruptly yanked it away and that’s when red flags began to go off in your head. Did you do something wrong? Why was he visibly angry? What could have happened that made him so—so indignant? It’s as if something had possessed him; you’ve never seen him this distressed before in your many years of knowing him and it worried you. 

So many negative thoughts began piling up and your head began to hurt. He walked over to the swing set your parents set up for you and your siblings and took a seat. You were about to ask him why he was acting so agitated when he beat you to it. It’s been six months, but you can still physically feel the pain in your chest to this day. His words replayed every single day as if they were taunting you; they were a constant reminder that he was no longer in your life. 

That he was no longer your person—the love of your life. Everything he said to you, all the promises for the future was a lie. 

I’m breaking up with you. 

Your mind drew a blank; you couldn’t process the thought of no longer having him as your boyfriend. You remember asking why—you wanted to beg him, to tell him that you were willing to change whatever it was about yourself that he fell out of love with. You would have done anything to get him to stay. Everything hurt and you just wanted to collapse. It’s as if time stopped. 

He refused to look at you—his vision was set to the ground, kicking at the dirt. There were so many questions that you wanted to ask him, so many things you wanted to say but nothing came out other than why. 

When did he fall out of love with you? When did he realize you were no longer the person he saw himself spending forever with? Where did it all go wrong? Everything was just fine the day before. The two of you were cuddling up on his bed, watching some movies on Netflix.

He dropped you back to your house earlier that morning, kissed you passionately and told you that he loved you. What happened in the few hours that he was away at school that made him decide to do the unthinkable and break up with you? It was in that moment where all your insecurities about being too young, too innocent and inexperienced—too immature and not enough for him in so many aspects. 

Your worst nightmares came true; he finally came to the realization that he could get a woman his age; someone much more successful, so much prettier, funnier, kinder—he was in his mid-twenties and you were just a teenager in high school. You were holding him back from so much. It was finally catching up to him. He was a grown man; taking care of his younger girlfriend shouldn’t even have to be his responsibility.

I’m no longer happy in this relationship anymore. 

Once those words fell from his lips, you sank to your knees and began to cry. You knew it was pathetic, but with the very small amount of strength you had left, you crawled over to him and wrapped your arms around his legs. 

Please. Please don’t leave. 

You could try to beg him as much as you possibly could—you could cry and plead for him to change his mind. This man opened your eyes to so much. He made you so happy. He taught you how to love yourself so that you could love him to the best of your ability. 

Mark Tuan was the rightful owner of your heart. He was your best friend before he was your life partner. How were you supposed to live without him? When you pulled away to take a look at him, he was void of all facial expressions. Why was he taking this so well; he was breaking up with you, the person he claimed he couldn’t live without. 

He seemed fine—okay even. It was as if these last four years the two of you spent together—the many laughs, kisses, stolen glances, late night drives, all nighters making promises for the future, they no longer meant anything to him. Where was the Mark who adored you and loved you with his entire physical being? The Mark who drove over to your house at three in the morning just because he missed you. 

The same Mark who stayed on the phone with your mom for almost two hours learning how to make you your favorite dessert to surprise you for your anniversary? The same Mark that would put on and wear face masks with you—dance to the most eccentric songs. 

Where was the Mark who claimed that you were the one who set the universe in to the sky and who was this monster that practically ripped your heart from out of your chest and stepped on it repeatedly? You didn’t know who this stranger was standing in front of you. 

It’s for the best. 

The tears were hot on your cheeks; images of the first time you went over to his house as his girlfriend and not his best friend’s little sister. He brought you outside to the sidewalk and kissed you sweetly—bringing some of your hair behind your ear and complimenting you on how beautiful you looked. It felt like years ago and now that he wasn’t in your life anymore, it was hard to believe that even happened. 

All your memories with Mark felt like a fever dream. Did your relationship ever even happen? Was Mark really ever in your life? Was he ever really yours? You wished you pried at him more—you just needed closure. 

These days, you were so bitter, so depressed and unhappy. When you got your license, you honestly couldn’t even care less. A part of you didn’t even want to take the test. It would only remind you of Mark and what was no longer. You had no motivation to continue to learn how to drive at all. Your whole reason to get your license no longer existed. 

Stupid, stupid girl. Why did you give yourself completely to someone else? Why did you trust someone with your heart? Your fragile, delicate heart. But it was Mark. You wouldn’t have expected him to do something like that. You haven’t heard from him since he left you not too long after telling you that he was done. You cut him off completely—deleted his number and blocked him on all of your social media.

A part of you, no matter how much you tried to push the thought of it at the back of your mind—you believed that there was a chance he just so happened to find someone else in college. Someone who could provide for him in ways that you couldn’t. Mark could have claimed that he loved you and that there was nobody else for him, but only he knew what was best for him and sometimes the person we live isn’t the person we need. You sat outside of his house for what felt like hours. 

You couldn’t leave. It wasn’t as if you expected anything to happen. He wasn’t going to come out running to you with open arms, telling you that he made a mistake and that he misses you so much. No. That wasn’t going to happen. Your sobs echoed throughout the car—surely he was moved on already. For all you knew, he probably didn’t even live there anymore. The thought of not meaning as much to him as he did with you plagued you every single day. How could he be so unphased? Did you really mean that little or even nothing to him? 

After everything you’ve been through together, how was he not hurting? How did the break up not affect him at all? In attempts to take your mind off of him, you turned on the radio—but ultimately ended up regretting that you did so. 

Your song—your song with Mark—began to blast through the speakers. It was already at the chorus, but that was the part Mark claimed reminded him of your relationship. Life was never on your side, what did you ever do to deserve so much misery? Why was your life slowly falling apart at the seams? It was so unfair. 

After allowing yourself some time to stop crying completely, you shut off the radio and drove away—not being able to stay much longer. Before you actually drove off though, you began to type in a phone number, one you knew by heart. You knew it was wrong, but you didn’t even care. Whether or not you got a response, it didn’t matter. He needed to know what the breakup was doing to you.

You: Hey. Not that you care, but I finally got my driver’s license. I just thought I’d let you know. 2:34 A.M.

You: Oh by the way 2:35 A.M.

You: I still fucking love you. 2:45 A.M.

Read at 2:46 A.M.

#got7 imagines #got7 #mark tuan #mark tuan imagines #got7 mark

[itsclydebitches]

A weird defence I've seen of RWBY's conflicts has been that it's good writing simply by the virtue that people can disagree on what's the right thing to do in said conflict. Which doesn't work when one decision is being presented as the only valid choice while every other option is either not addressed or demonized. This isn't a story leaving a nuanced set of stances to explore, it's a guy on stage signalling the crowd to boo whenever someone goes against the Protag's decision.

Real quick, I want to talk about RWBY by not talking about RWBY. I’ve seen this argument a lot too and the tl;dr is that just because your audience debates the right action in a conflict  — something that is inevitable given how subjective media is  — doesn’t mean the story encouraged that reflection in any way. As you say, RWBY pretends that those disagreements don’t exist and that This Is The One (1) Right Answer... which entirely defeats the purpose of a morally nuanced situation in the first place. That lack is bad writing because it demonstrates the author’s inability to provide an accurate picture of the conflict while still ensuring we come out of it liking the parties involved. The conflict was too complex for them to manage alongside equally complex characterization, so they just pretended it was far simpler than it actually was. That’s not something to praise. 

But to get to the not RWBY part. I’ve mentioned this a couple times before, but one of the scenes that I think manages these sorts of conflicts really well is the funeral fight in The Haunting of Hill House, episodes 6, “Two Storms.” So warning from here on out for spoilers. Sometimes, the best way to see what’s not working well in one show is to look at another show that does (basically) the same thing successfully and compare the two. 

Normally I’d include screenshots, but Netflix doesn’t allow that :/ So I’m forced to rely on bullet points. 

The basic premise is that the Crain family has assembled in daughter Shirley’s funeral home, the night before they bury their sister, Nell. A lot of secrets are about to come to light. 

The scene kicks off when their father, Hugh, relays the call he got from the housekeeper the night of Nell’s death. She had committed suicide in the family’s childhood home. 

Though everyone knew how she’d died, son Steven is distraught at hearing the details and reveals that a few weeks prior Nell crashed a book signing of his. This shocks the others given that this was very unusual behavior for Nell. 

Shirley likewise reveals that she got a call from Nell who’d been worried about their brother, Luke, but hadn’t spoken to her the night of her death. The implication is that no one did. They’ll never know what was going through her head the night she died. 

Hugh reveals that she did call him. “I talked to her.” 

Stunned by this news, his children demand to know what was discussed and Hugh is clearly reluctant to continue. However, he eventually says that Nell wasn’t just worried about Luke, but also the “Bent Neck Lady,” a specter from her childhood.

The viewer knows that ghosts are real in this show. The kids don’t. Or rather, they all experienced supernatural occurrences in their childhood, are still experiencing them now, but only some of them are willing to admit they’re real. Steven is the diehard skeptic of the bunch and starts yelling at his father, accusing him of aiding Nell’s delusions and ignoring a family history of mental illness. In particular, he declares that this “makes you culpable [in her death].” 

Steven continues to accuse Hugh of “holding back information” about Nell and Hugh shoots back that “If I held back anything it was to protect you kids.” The viewer understands Hugh’s dilemma: the only reason he keeps things to himself is because Steven and the others refuse to believe the truth, with an added dose of this supernatural stuff being very dangerous. Steven asks, “Why do I need protection from the truth?” 

Before their fight can go any further, Shirley tells Steven, “You might want to check yourself before you start talking about the truth.” He published an autobiographical book about their childhood trauma and notably capitalized on a supernatural angle he doesn’t believe in. Shirley calls it “blood money.” 

As the argument about the ethics of his book rages, Shirley defends herself primarily with how everyone else thinks this is “blood money” too. No one took a cut when Steven offered one, proving how despicable they all think it is. 

Meanwhile, sister Theo has been getting heat for being drunk (a coping mechanism for her own supernatural troubles) and Shirley eventually pushes her far enough that she admits she did take Steven’s money and used it to get her degree. “It’s good, fucking money.” Suddenly, Steven has someone in his corner and Shirley’s main defense has crumbled. 

Shirley is furious that Theo had this secret income but was still living with her and her husband. Theo reminds her that she offered to pay rent, but Shirley isn’t interested in hearing that. She demands that Theo move out immediately and uses this betrayal as the new way to protect herself. She’s the victim here. 

Steven, sensing another secret in the works, cautions Shirley to “get off your high horse before you fall off.” 

Shirley maintains her position until her husband blurts that they also took Steven’s money. Shirley hasn’t been running the funeral home well and they would have sunk without it. 

Despite being the punching bag for the second half of this fight, Shirley is offered both reassurance and dignity. Her husband emphasizes that the only reason they’re struggling is because Shirley is a good person. She does too much work pro bono. Shirley also delivers the line, “Do you have any idea how much you’ve humiliated me?” calling into question the husband’s choice to admit this now, purely as a way to prove her wrong. 

Shirley leaves to get some distance and discovers that someone — something — has put buttons over Nell’s eyes. The shock of this keeps the fight from continuing and, as plot intervenes, gives the characters the space needed to eventually start healing and forgiving one another, notably by sitting with the various truths they all now have to grapple with. 

Phew! A long summary, but I’ve put this much detail in to highlight the nuance of the scene. Obviously RWBY would differ in many ways  — less cursing, for one  — but the core elements of any morally complex scene should be the same. The important takeaways here are that no one in the Crain family are “pure” or “evil” and everyone gets their chance to be both right and wrong. Hugh is right that Steven won’t listen to him and wrong in that he didn’t do enough to help his kids. We get Steven and Hugh’s frustration, their understanding of the world at odds with one another. Steven is wrong to put everything on his father and justified in starting his writing career with their story. We watch the scene move from “Steven is Wrong and everyone agrees” to “Oh shit nm, more and more of the family are revealing that they benefited from his money, complicating how “wrong” he actually is.” Shirley is right to point out that Theo is getting drunk during their sister’s funeral and Theo is right to point out that being drunk doesn’t erase having a good point. Theo is allowed to scream at the group and then immediately be offered help when she falls. Shirley pretends she’s better than all of them and is slowly, horrifyingly proven wrong, but is then still extended compassion and is allowed to point out how horribly they’ve just treated her. The husband is right about the money, wrong about keeping it a secret/revealing it the way he did, right in how he tries to diffuse the other fights, and VERY wrong by getting caught kissing Theo down in the storeroom! 

The scene twists and turns in a way that highlights everyone’s points and their flaws, the moments when their perspective should be upheld and questioned. The end result is a scene that has space for the audience to debate everyone’s choices without imposing the single view of This Person Is Obviously Wrong/Right and If You Think Otherwise You’re Not Watching The Show Correctly. The show itself acknowledges the complexity and nuance of these problems. It asks, “Hugh should have tried harder, but what more can he do when his kids literally don’t believe this stuff exists? Was Steven really justified in writing a book about their collective experiences? What does it mean that something his family sees as capitalizing on their trauma also helped them keep businesses and schooling afloat? Was it okay for Shirley’s husband to keep that money a secret, even if it helped them? How might he have told her in a less cruel manner? What about Shirley’s life has led to her intense need to be on that ‘high horse’?” 

And of course: “Who is really responsible for Nell’s death?” By this point the viewer already knows that there is no “really” here. This is too complicated a tragedy to lay the blame at any one person’s feet. Everyone in this room has moments of justified accusations and moments of chastisement because they’re well written, well rounded characters who are neither saints nor devils. The length of the scene (done in a single shot!) emphasizes that if you just wait long enough, even the most perfect looking person will eventually have a skeleton pulled from their closet. No one is above mistakes. 

RWBY has NONE of that. Zip. Nada. Nothing. RWBY gave us a scenario with many of the same, core themes  — secret keeping, secrets unwillingly revealed, blaming others for your mistakes, hurtful actions with helpful consequences, questioning who is responsible for a tragic death  — and instead of even attempting to give us some of the above nuance, RWBY said only that Ruby was right, Ozpin was wrong, and demanding that the audience ignore the nuance they could already see in order to accept the canon. 

RWBY’s scene asks the audience to play dumb and look at the world as a Black and White place, despite the show simultaneously insisting that “the world isn’t a fairy tale” and is, in fact, filled with shades of gray. 

Just not any shades of gray that mess with that dichotomy that now drives the story.  

That’s not good writing. It’s oblivious and contradictory writing that makes the audience frustrated. Not satisfied, surprised, contemplative, or curious. Just frustrated. 

#rwby #the haunting of hill house #mymetas #Anonymous

[ao3-sucks]

An Archive of Someone’s Own: my experiences being groomed in fandom circles on AO3

TW: Childhood sexual abuse, grooming, mentions of incest and rape.

I used to be a big writer of fanfiction. It was the logical choice for me. I loved to write and create bold and immersive worlds, and I craved an audience who would enjoy my work as much as I did. Since my writing wasn’t actually good, I needed a community of other amateurs who wouldn’t mind that, and by tweaking my characters and settings into ones from canonical media, I got the audience I so craved.

I started writing fanfiction online when I was 14, posting initially on FanFiction.net and then moving to AO3 a few months later. As I got back into writing original fiction towards the end of high school, I lost interest in this community, and it’s been a long time since I posted anything much on AO3.

I’ve always struggled with the fact I display a lot of symptoms of CSA, and for the longest time, I couldn’t figure out why. Throughout my teen years, I refused to get changed or bathe when anyone was even vaguely nearby, constantly paranoid about being spied on; I developed a severe touch phobia, and would have frequent panic attacks from something as small as brushing arms with a passerby; I resolutely identified as asexual and refused to get into anything resembling a relationship with others because the very concept disgusted and repulsed me.

Weird, considering I had grown up pretty normal and all of these symptoms had started around my early teens. It was only when I told my friends about my friendship with a 30 year old I had met online that the pieces started falling into place for me.

Child grooming is usually discussed in the context of one adult going out of their way to befriend a child with the goal of lowering their resistance to sexual abuse, through normalisation and friendliness. I’d like to talk about how that worked on the fanfiction website AO3. Since it’s an open website and most communication takes place between anonymous users or accounts in the comments section of a work, there is very little delineation between spaces for adults to discuss whatever dark topics they like and spaces for kids to do the same.

This frequently leads to pretty inappropriate conversations between people of widely varying ages and life experiences, which is how I ended up talking sex as a fourteen year old with people ranging from a couple of years older than me, who were generally okay, to more than twice my age. The 30 year old in question listed on her profile how many pedophilic ships she loved, and she knew my age but pushed me to keep discussing sexual topics with her. Sounds like a red flag, yeah? Well. I was 14, and very stupid.

This 30 year old woman, who I will call Aku (because it’s similar to her screen name and because it’s funny to name her after the bad guy from Samurai Jack) would start conversations with me whenever I posted anything to AO3 and would refuse to take no for an answer when I tried to back out of conversations with her, and since these conversations were public and occurring within comments, I didn’t want to be rude to her since this was taking place on content I was trying to promote.

I told her my age multiple times and she would either pretend she forgot from last time (saying her memory is super bad) or continue as though it was just trivia about me and not a sign she shouldn’t have been pushing me. My primary objection to what she would say to me (since most of it was just her being annoying) was her insistence on sexualising everything I wrote, and her determination to push me into writing pornographic content, which I eventually gave in to.

Yes, she was a terrible person. She emailed me using her personal email address, so I know her full name and place of residence, because she’s an idiot. These emails also contain sexually explicit materials. Nothing much ever happened between us except for these very creepy interactions and the fact we remained online friends for a few years. But here’s the thing: she wasn’t the only person pushing me into creating sexual content. Lots of people would comment on my writing demanding that I show explicit sexual content when I really didn’t want to.

After a while it felt like I couldn’t write a longer, romantic fanfiction without including explicit sexual content. Like my work wasn’t valid without it. Other, more popular writers were usually sexual in their content, and I wanted to be like them and bring in the views, right? So, when I look at my back catalog of works, I can see how my content moved from completely non-sexual to featuring sexual content over time, and the views usually came with. In this way, I was in an environment that was encouraging me on many levels to sexualise my own work, which impacted the way I thought about my creative process.

Here’s another example I remember. When I was a young sprout, I remember reading down someone’s list of fanfiction recommendations and seeing a work called Hug Therapy, which I promptly read. While the work is marked as explicit and containing the Loki/Thor pairing, the use of relationship and rating tags on AO3 is so poorly regulated that it didn’t really mean anything to me to see either of those. People tag hardcore material as non-explicit and tag friendships as relationships, because there’s no motivation to tag properly. Plus, someone I followed here on Tumblr had recommended it to me.

Now, you wouldn’t know from the listing, but while this piece starts out as comedy, it turns out in the end to include rape, incest, and BDSM in very explicit terms. The fact it was tagged as being explicit didn’t slow me down, because the liberal use of these tags could mean that an explicit tag was just there because sexual content was implied or mentioned, which I thought would be the case based on the rest of the listing. Out of curiosity, I recently tried to report this work to the moderators for containing no warnings about incest or rape, and I got this in response:

“Selecting “Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings” satisfies a creator’s obligation under the warnings policy. Users who wish to avoid specific elements entirely should not access fanworks marked with “Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings”. Our Terms of Service note: “You understand that using the Archive may expose you to material that is offensive, triggering, erroneous, sexually explicit, indecent, blasphemous, objectionable, grammatically incorrect, or badly spelled. ….. This decision is in accordance with our policy of maximum inclusiveness; we have therefore closed this case and will not be investigating further.”

Which, yeah, I guess. The frustration comes from how ‘Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings’ is an extremely commonly used tag, and most things that it’s used on are totally harmless.

This fanfiction, which I was recommended by a friend, is hugely popular, in the top 60 most read fanfictions in the entire fandom. You wanna hear the kicker? The author, Astolat, is one of the founders of AO3. They’re not just some random author who isn’t following the rules. They’re a creator of the whole website, and they made the rules. This is pretty telling about how seriously the website actually takes protecting their users.

My final example I want to give is one of fetish content. People in fetish communities generally (not always) say that fetishes are probably something one should work up to after the onset of sexual activity, especially potentially harmful stuff like BDSM. In the circles I was running in, if you weren’t sporting a fetish or two (no matter your age) you were a boring bitch.

Maybe this isn’t true of everywhere in the fanfiction community, but I used to feel that bizarre pressure until I got out. Bear in mind that my main time in this community was from ages 14 to 17. I never made my age a secret, either. I told people outright I was that age, I was in high school, I was playing hockey and studying The Great Gatsby when I wasn’t online.

Since I was in the Avengers fandom and I liked Loki and the Asgardians, I was frequently exposed to incestuous content between Loki and Thor, and a lot of it came out of nowhere or was poorly tagged. This was considered the norm, and while I at first felt completely horrified and repulsed, within a year or two I no longer gave a shit. It’s only in the last few years as I’ve begun to unpack everything that I’ve started to get that strong revulsion reaction to incestuous content.

In the circles I was in, it was relentlessly normal. Normal to the point that people who disliked it were usually shouted down. Even to this day, debate rages on in fandom spaces about whether or not content like this normalises this kind of abuse. In my own personal experience, which I don’t usually like to talk about, it absolutely does.

In real life, this normalisation started to have serious consequences for my mental health and interpersonal relationships. In fanfiction, any occasion when you are alone with someone could become sexual, any familial relationship is possibly sexual, and it doesn’t matter if you like it or not. I became incredibly anxious around male family members for fear of being sexually assaulted, and my OCD, which I had been developing since I was a child, turned from thoughts of physical violence to thoughts of graphically sexually assaulted by anyone and everyone around me.

My fear of being touched got to the point where I would have panic attacks if anyone came anywhere close to touching me. I quit sports, fucked up my romantic relationships, and didn’t hug anyone, not even members of my family, for years. All the while, I had bought my first laptop and was consuming more fanfiction than ever before. I struggled with my sexuality growing up, as I am bisexual, and while fanfiction provided LGBT content to help me, the content was frequently so disturbing that I viewed any expression of sexuality as something evil and predatory.

The community on AO3, whether you like it or not, is often sexual, and provides no barriers between the casual user looking for content and extremely intense fetish material. It’s sometimes called the Pornhub of fanfiction, but considering the wide range of people who use it, it’s more like if you opened Youtube and saw niche hardcore fetish videos just on the front page, recommended and trending.

Sure, you have to click a little button to confirm you’re 18 before you can actually read a story, but the tags and descriptions of readily available works can be extremely explicit. Fanfiction also brings you into close contact with fellow readers and the author, and encourages you to become a content creator, which in some ways makes it more dangerous.

I was affected much more strongly by what I saw than most people would be, because I was already treading shaky ground. But I’m also not the only person out there who has been hurt in this way. Most of my friends who grew up in fandom can report the impact that fanfiction culture had on them. One of my friends from high school knew a panoply of porn terms at age 14 or so due to reading fanfiction, and another of my other friends at high school almost exclusively read rape porn because it was her favourite. I didn’t have friends who watched porn; I had friends who read fanfiction. These are just as troubling to me as any other accounts of young people consuming visual porn from a very early age.

It’s frequently cited that fanfiction gives minority groups the opportunity for creative outlet. It was a great place for me to cut my teeth as a content creator, and a source of acceptance and kindness when times were tough. Fanfiction communities have historically been the domain of women and minorities, and create a space for these people to tell their own stories.

It’s largely because of this that fanfiction communities fear censorship and strict moderation, as they have been attacked in the past on homophobic or misogynistic grounds, resulting in mass deletions of works or the shutdown of websites. But there must be some middle ground between total censorship and the kind of free rein that puts vulnerable people in danger, and I strongly encourage the board of AO3 to seek this middle ground out.

But it’s the community itself that needs to shape up; AO3 is, after all, a community-led website built by fans for fans, so the fact that this website has such issues is a reflection of the issues that run deeply within the people who created it. Aku didn’t talk to me with the intention of doing me harm, or so I believe at this time, and she didn’t pursue me as a lone wolf or in isolation.

She was simply a particularly brazen member of a community that was used to having inappropriate conversations with young people and sexualising everything they did. Even people my own age were jokingly pushing me into discussing and consuming extremely sexual content. It was just normal. That’s what I want to say here. Inside the world of fandom on AO3, the grooming of children with sexual content is normal. And that’s scary.

- Mod Daft

#mod daft post #ao3 discourse #fandom wank #fanfiction discourse #fanfiction wank #csa// #rape// #grooming// #incest//

[paperbodiesamongthestars]

You matter. Or whatever.

Happy Valentine’s Day! I wrote something for the Harringrove Heart-On!

Read it on AO3 and check out all the other phenomenal works in the collection, too!

I

"Valentine’s Day is an abomination."

"Wow, Hargrove, don't hold back. Tell me how you really feel." Billy and Steve are in the parking lot, smoking before school starts, and Billy is in a mood. His shoulders are tense and there’s a tightness around his eyes that Steve is starting to recognize.

"This day is the fucking worst."

"Oh no," Steve says sarcastically, "you're going to spend your whole day getting cards and gifts from people who like you." Billy snorts.  

"Giving someone heart-shaped shit on a pretend holiday invented by greeting card companies does absolutely nothing to convey that you actually like them. It's performative bullshit." That checks out, Steve thinks. He loves Valentine's Day. Well. Loved.  

"I hate to break this to you," he says, "but your day is going to be chock full of heart-shaped shit." He drops his voice like he's sharing a secret. "I don't know if you know this, but Billy Hargrove still doesn't have a date for the party at the quarry on Friday. It's, like, open season." Billy rolls his eyes.

"Maybe I don't want a date," he says. "Gotta keep those options open. Besides," he adds as he watches their classmates streaming into the building, "those people either fear me or they want my dick. Or both. Like doesn't really enter into it." Steve doesn't have anything to say to that, but it doesn't really matter; their silences are pretty comfortable by now. Steve watches a girl walk past them with a cluster of pink heart-shaped balloons. He sighs a little before he can catch himself. When he looks up, Billy's staring at him. He has a look on his face that usually means Steve is about to be mocked. Mercilessly.

"You love this shit, don't you?" Billy asks, a little incredulous. Steve looks back at the balloons. He does. Well, he did. He would have done something like that, before. He's not sure what insanity compels him to say that, though.

"I used to, yeah."

"Yeah?" Billy reaches over to bump his shoulder, smile sharp. "You liked getting all those cards and flowers and balloons from admirers?"

"No. I mean, sure, but that’s not why I liked the day. I liked thinking of special things to do for N...for people." Billy snorts.

"Making sure everyone knew what a great boyfriend you were?" The question is maybe a little mean, but Billy's tone, surprisingly, isn't. Steve just shrugs. He stares at the entrance to the building, not really seeing it. He likes to think that he wasn't entirely bullshit.

"I mean, sort of? It was more about showing the person that I put some thought into it, you know? Like, I cared enough to do that because...because they mattered." He catches himself. "Or whatever," he adds lamely, but he knows it's too late. His soft underbelly is already on display. He risks a glance at Billy, who is watching him with an unreadable expression. He finally shakes his head and smiles, a little genuine, and that's not at all what Steve expected.

"You’re hopeless, Harrington." If Steve didn't know any better, he might describe Billy's tone as affectionate. Steve smiles back, tentatively and shrugs.

"Yeah, probably." And then they finish their cigarettes and they go to class.

Billy doesn't take a date to the party, but he does check with Steve twice to make sure he's going to be there.  

II

Steve shows up at Billy's apartment for their weekly movie night with takeout, two aggressively unromantic movies, homemade sugar cookies, and a stack of Valentine's Day cards from the kids. Billy looks at them, a little bemused, when Steve hands them over.

"I tried to spare you, but they insisted," Steve says. "They made me open mine before they would let me leave. There are also heart-shaped sugar cookies in here somewhere. I have strict instructions about which ones were decorated specifically for you." Billy cocks an eyebrow in surprise and Steve shrugs.

"They invited you because they actually wanted you to come, you know." Billy looks down and doesn't say anything. He's a lot better physically, but sometimes larger groups are still a little much for him. Steve's voice goes softer. "It's also fine that you didn't go. Just...they actually do care about you. Despite the fact that you are a bitter cynic who cannot appreciate a holiday dedicated to love." His smile and tone soften the words. "And, as I have learned from personal experience, those nerds are absolutely relentless when they decide they like you, so. Probably best just to let them." Steve continues unpacking the bags and starts setting out boxes of takeout on the coffee table. He slides a plastic-wrapped plate of cookies across the table toward Billy. Billy glances at the cookies, and then looks again. His brow furrows.

"At least one of these appears to have a dick frosted on it. And that looks a lot like a hand holding up a middle finger." Steve smirks at him.

"I guess the kids know you pretty well." Billy tosses a throw pillow at him, which Steve dodges easily. He's laughing, and Billy can't suppress a laugh himself.

"Did you have a good time?" Billy asks, and if there is the tiniest thread of wistfulness in his voice, Steve knows better than to act like he hears it.

"It was surprisingly enjoyable, yeah," Steve admits. "Although I suspect I'm going to be shedding random glitter for months." He pauses, and then grins. "Max is a menace in the kitchen. We had to ban her just to get any decent cookies made. Haven't you ever taught her anything?" Billy shudders.

"I tried; it's impossible. No one could teach Max to cook. She and the kitchen just do not mix."

"Harsh, but probably fair," Steve says. He pulls an envelope out of one of the bags and tosses it on top of the pile. "That is for you," he says. Billy eyes it and then looks back at Steve. "Aren't you going to open it?" Steve prompts. Billy does, a little cautiously. It's a card made out of a folded piece of red construction paper. The front features a frowny face traced in glitter, two angry slashes for eyebrows. Billy looks up at Steve.

"Glitter is the devil," is all Steve says. Billy opens the card. Inside is a poem in Steve's messy handwriting.

Roses are red.

Violets are blue.

You think Valentine's Day is an abomination,

And that's why I made this stupid card for you.

Billy snorts a laugh despite himself. Steve smiles, flushing slightly. He claps his hands together once.

"Alright. You will delighted to know that that concludes the 'celebrating Valentine's Day' portion of our evening." He pulls out the slasher movies he picked. "Ready to watch some idiots make terrible choices and promptly get murdered?"

"Sounds perfect," Billy says. They curl up in opposite corners of the couch. Steve watches Billy out of the corner of his eye as he casually opens the rest  of his cards, catching a tiny, crooked smile and the way he gently traces a fingertip over the lace edging on one of the cards. Steve smiles a little to himself and goes back to watching the movie.

After Steve leaves that night, Billy puts the cards up on his fridge. Most of them come down, eventually, but the one from Steve stays up.

III

The smell of coffee is almost enough to overcome the smell of burned pancakes, but not quite. Steve sits at their kitchen table, staring glumly into his coffee cup.

"What possessed you to try making breakfast, sweetheart?" Billy asks him as he slides another perfect pancake onto the growing pile.

"It's Valentine's Day," Steve says. "I just wanted to do something nice for you." There's a long pause.

"Ok, but why not just make dinner?" Billy asks. Steve huffs and tries to think about how to articulate this.

"You hate Valentine's Day," he starts, and Billy glances over at him for a second and hesitates.

"I do," he finally says, slowly.

"And dinner is...I don't know...it's more serious. The stakes are higher." Billy cocks an eyebrow at him.

"Is this you trying to tell me that the meal that you're good at cooking is somehow better than the meal that I'm good at cooking?"

"No," Steve says, starting to get frustrated. "Breakfast just felt like...like less of a commitment to the whole day. Like I could do a little thing in the morning, and if you hated it, we could just move on." Billy's expression softens.

"Baby," he says. Steve waves him off.

"It's fine. I fucked it up anyway, so."

"You did," Billy says, and Steve scoffs, burying his face in his hands. Billy just cannot fucking help himself sometimes, he knows, but still.

"But," Billy continues over Steve's scoff, "I think it's sweet that you tried."

"You do?" Steve asks, looking up. The word sweet is not typically a part of Billy's vocabulary, at least not as a compliment. Billy drops a kiss at the corner of his mouth and slides a plate piled high with pancakes in front of him.

"Eat your pancakes," he says, instead of responding. Steve looks down at his plate and freezes. The stack of pancakes is topped with a smaller, heart-shaped pancake. His eyes snap up to Billy's face. He starts to say something, but Billy cuts him off before he can speak. "Eat your pancakes," he repeats, waving his fork threateningly for emphasis. Steve does, but he can't suppress the little smile at the corner of his mouth.

He can't suppress it for the rest of the day either. Eventually, Billy resorts to kissing it off of his face, and they go to bed much earlier than usual.

IV

Billy is at his desk, collar unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, curls a mess. He's clearly been running his hands through his hair, so he's stressed. The stack of papers in front of him is truly staggering, and there are more on every flat surface in his tiny office. Billy appears to be organizing them into binders. Steve isn't really sure what his internship at this law firm entails, but this entire week he's been 'preparing exhibits' late into the evening. Steve takes a minute just to gaze at his boyfriend, who still hasn't noticed him. Billy looks exhausted, which is fair. He's juggling a double major, a T.A. job, and this internship. It's usually fine, but apparently oral arguments for some huge case start on Monday, so it's all hands on deck this week. Billy has only been home to get a few hours of sleep each night.

Steve knocks on the door jamb to announce his presence. Billy looks up at him and smiles, and some of the tension drains out of his shoulders.

"You're a sight for sore eyes," Billy says, coming out from behind the desk. He draws Steve in for lingering kiss. "What are you doing here?" Steve holds up the bag in his hand.

"I figured if you couldn't come home for dinner, I could bring dinner to you." Billy cups Steve's face in his hands and kisses him again.

"I don't deserve you, baby." He grimaces. "I know this week has sucked. I'll make it up to you." Steve smiles at him.

"I know you will." He kisses Billy one more time and steps back. "I should let you get back to it so that you can come home and get at least a little bit of sleep at some point." Billy closes the distance between them and buries his face in Steve's neck.

"But I don't want you to go," he says, more than a little petulant. He's so obviously tired. Steve huffs a laugh and wraps his arms around Billy's shoulders.

"And I don't want you to have to be here anymore. If I'm not here to distract you, maybe you'll get to come home at some point." Billy sighs dramatically.

"You're right and I hate it," he says into the side of Steve's neck. Steve rubs his back.

"Just keep reminding yourself that you love this internship."

"Not right now I don't."

"But usually you do. And you're trying to turn it into a job offer. And oral arguments are going to go really well next week because of all this prep, and they're going to beg you to work for them." There's a long pause.

"Ugh, just shut up," Billy finally mutters. Steve laughs. They stay there for a minute, just breathing. Finally, Steve steps back.

"Drink some water in between all the coffees, ok?" He kisses Billy one more time and then he's out the door. Billy stares after him, wanting nothing more than to follow, but he has more to do tonight. He goes back to work.

He only realizes what day it is half an hour later, when he finally opens the tupperware container Steve brought him. He stares for a long moment. It's his favorite meal. There's steak, and the fancy green beans with the slivered almonds, and garlic mashed potatoes. The potatoes are in the shape of a heart. Billy looks at the calendar next to his desk and groans, rubbing his face with his hands.

"Fuck," he says with feeling. "Fuck," he says again, as he stares at the piles of documents he still has to get through.

It's after midnight when Billy finally gets home. He leaves his pants and his fucking tie and his button-up in a heap on the floor and slips into bed, wrapping himself around Steve. He nuzzles into Steve's neck.

"Baby," he says. Steve makes a sleepy noise. "Baby, I need you to wake up for minute."

"Mhmm," Steve says. "'m awake." Billy knows better.

"Can you sit up for me? Just for a minute, sweetheart." It's the only way to be sure. Steve grumbles about it, but soon he's sitting up in bed facing Billy. He rubs his face with his hands, and then his brow furrows with concern.

"Is everything ok?"

"I'm sorry I missed Valentine's Day dinner," Billy says. Steve just stares at him, confused. Then his face relaxes a little.

"Is that why you woke me up? It's okay. Besides, you didn't miss it. I brought it to you."

"You know what I mean," Billy says. He takes a deep breath, and then he leans forward and cups Steve's face in his hands. "You know I love you, right?"

"Of course I--" and that's as far as Steve gets before his eyes go wide. Because he does know, Billy shows him all the time. He brings Steve coffee every morning, and he curls around him in bed every night and presses the softest kisses behind his ear, and he listens to the things that Steve says and actually remembers them in a way that nobody ever has before, but Billy's never actually said the words before. It's a whole thing for him, and Steve has tried so hard not to care about it that much, and it's fine, really, because Billy shows him all the time, but--

"I love you so fucking much," Billy says, and Steve thinks he might cry. Billy kisses him, and when they separate again Steve sneaks a look at the clock behind Billy. Billy catches him, of course he does, and he laughs and leans back in.

"Valentine's Day has been over for a while," he whispers against Steve's lips.

"You did that on purpose," Steve accuses after another kiss, smiling as he says it.

"I wouldn't do that to you, baby," Billy says. Steve pulls back to look at him.

"Because you love me," Steve says, thrilled by the words.

"Because I love you," Billy agrees, and then Steve lunges at him and they're too busy to do much more talking.

The law firm kicks ass at trial the following week, and Billy gets his job offer, and Steve makes his favorite meal again to celebrate. The next morning, Steve wakes up to mimosas and bacon and waffles with a frankly concerning amount of whipped cream. They spend most of the rest of that weekend in bed.

V

"I have to go," Billy says as he knots his tie. "Don't forget that we have that work thing at six tonight."

"Ugh," Steve grouses, still only half-awake. "Who schedules a work party on Valentine's Day?" Billy shrugs.

"It's not a real holiday, baby. We have to leave around 5:30 to give ourselves time to find parking, ok?" Billy seems nervous, which means this event is a big deal. He crosses the room to kiss Steve goodbye.

"I'll be ready," Steve promises. He leans up for the kiss and then reaches for the mug of coffee Billy has placed on his bedside table. "Have a good day!" he calls out as Billy heads for the front door.

"You too, baby!" he hears, and then the front door opens and closes. Steve stares at the tux hanging from the door of his closet. Who schedules a black-tie work event on a Wednesday? he wonders, but it's a fleeting thought. He reluctantly drags himself out of bed to get ready for work.

By 5:30 Steve is dressed and ready to go, hair looking particularly good, if he does say so himself. He leaves the bathroom and gets a look at Billy, who is also in a tux. He smiles appreciatively.

"Damn, B. You're just as gorgeous as the day I met you."

"I could say the same for you, pretty boy." They grin at each other, and then Billy closes the distance between them to run his hands up Steve's sides. He pulls Steve into a kiss, a slow, unhurried press of his lips. When he pulls back, he reaches up out of habit to tuck Steve's hair away from his face, but he stops himself before he touches it. "Don't want to mess up your party hair," he says, smiling. Then his eyes darken and his smile goes a little predatory. "Well," he corrects himself, "not yet, anyway." Steve shakes his head, smiling.

They're halfway to the restaurant--a fancy steakhouse that the law firm has apparently rented out for the evening--when Billy takes a wrong turn. Steve glances over, but Billy seems unconcerned. He takes a few more turns before Steve starts to recognize the route.

"Aren't we going to be late to the party?" Steve asks tentatively, not sure what's going on here. Billy grins back at him, eyes hidden behind his sunglasses.

"We've got time. I wanted to make a stop first." Steve gets out of the car, bemused, when Billy parks in a familiar lot. He follows Billy along a short trail to an overlook with a weathered wooden bench. The view out over the ocean is a familiar one--they come out here often in the evenings or on weekends to sit with snacks or coffee. Sometimes they talk, and sometimes they sit in silence, just letting the sound of the ocean smooth over sharp edges and frayed tempers. Steve wonders if Billy is having one of those kinds of days. He seems fine, but that isn't always a reliable indicator with Billy.

They stand there for a moment, watching the sun sink toward the horizon, and Steve feels himself starting to take deeper breaths. The sound of the ocean, the warmth of Billy's shoulder against his, the smell of salt in the air--it's all familiar and beloved and soothing.

And then all thoughts of calm desert Steve entirely because Billy drops to one knee next to him. Steve looks over, confused for a split second, and then immediately overwhelmed because Billy doesn't have his sunglasses on anymore, and his eyes are big and so goddamn blue and full of affection and hope and a little bit of fear, and he's reaching for his jacket pocket and taking out a box. Steve tries to remember how to breathe.

"Baby," Billy says, and his voice wobbles a little and his hands are shaking just a tiny bit and it is so incredibly endearing that Steve feels his heart overflow. He's pretty sure he's crying already. Billy clears his throat and tries again. "I've never been the best with words," he says, steadier this time, "but I hope you know by now that I can't imagine my life without you. I love your big heart and your terrible taste in music and your ridiculous, beautiful face. I want to bring you coffee every morning and trip over your goddamn sweats because you never manage to actually get them into the hamper." Steve laughs a little through his tears, swiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his tux. Billy's expression goes soft and serious. "I want to make you breakfast, and eat your incredible dinners, and fall asleep next you, and wake up next to you, and know that I can come home to you at the end of a bad day and you'll make it better just by being there. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Steve Harrington." Billy opens the box to reveal a simple gold band. "Say you'll marry me?" Steve hauls him to his feet and into a kiss, so happy he can hardly contain it. He cups Billy's face in his palms when he finally pulls back.

"Of course I'll marry you, you romantic bastard," he whispers as Billy takes his left hand to slide the ring onto his finger, and then they're kissing again. A few moments later, a thought occurs to Steve. "Did you just propose to me on Valentine's Day? On purpose?" he asks, a little incredulous.

"You know what?" Billy says, as though it's just occurring to him, "I think I did."

"But you hate Valentine's Day," Steve murmurs in his ear, amused. Billy pulls back far enough to make eye contact with Steve.

"I used to," Billy says, unable to suppress his smile.

"And then what happened?" Steve asks, smiling back.

"Then I met this boy and he taught me that love means showing the most important people in your life that they matter. Or whatever," he adds with a grin. "And it can be real, even if you do it on a pretend holiday invented by greeting card companies." Steve is a little surprised that Billy even remembers that conversation.

"Really?" he asks softly, touched. Billy huffs a laugh.

"Steve, I've had a Valentine's Day card from you on my fridge for years. In multiple apartments. A card that you made for me before we ever even got together, by the way."

"Yeah, but you were already into me by then," Steve teases.

"I was into you pretty much the first time I saw you," Billy says, and Steve knows that, has known that for a while, but he is still definitely crying again. He tucks his face into the side of Billy's neck. He's never been happier. They stay there for a while, just breathing and listening to the waves in the distance.

"We're definitely going to be late to your work party now," Steve finally says.

"About that..." Billy starts to say, and Steve pulls back to look at his face. Billy is grinning at him, clearly pleased with himself. "It's actually more of an engagement party? I rented out the restaurant, and everyone flew out for it." Steve is speechless, and then he's kissing Billy again.

"I guess it's a good thing I said yes," Steve murmurs eventually. Billy snorts.

"Oh, like you were ever gonna get a better offer."

"How dare you?" Steve says with mock outrage. "I'm an incredible cook and I look like this." He gestures toward himself. "I'm a fucking catch."

"Counterpoint," Billy says, grinning. "I make the best breakfast and I look like this." He gestures in the general direction of his abs. He may not be quite as cut as he was back in high school--Steve really is an incredible cook--but Billy still spends enough time in the gym to make damn sure that he looks good.

"That's true," Steve says, nodding thoughtfully. "And you did propose to me on Valentine's Day. You're a total sap. It's adorable."

"You take that back," Billy demands, horrified. "I've never done anything adorable in my life."

"That's not true at all. You're the absolute cutest, B."

"Cutest? Oh my God, I take it back. I'm un-proposing," Billy says, reaching for Steve's hand. Steve snatches it away.

"Nope, too late, you're stuck with me forever," he says, drawing out the last word. It’s a joke, Billy knows it is, but he also hears the tiniest thread of anxiety in Steve’s tone. Billy looks at him for a moment.

"Wouldn't have it any other way, baby," he says quietly, smiling as he pulls Steve in close to kiss him.

They are absolutely late to their own engagement party, and Steve's perfect party hair is a distant memory by the time they finally arrive. They receive an enthusiastic, slightly tipsy round of applause from all of the people who matter the most to them when they walk into the restaurant. It's the best Valentine's Day either one of them has ever had.

#harringrove #harringrove heart on #my writing #fluff

[smokedstorybara]

I have so many bnha fanfic ideas, they’ve just been popping into my head every few days for weeks now

So I’m just gonna share them all on this one post instead of making a million new fandom posts out of nowhere (ok, it’s closer to, like, ten - but still!)

If any of y’all want me to actually write any of them, don’t hesitate to say so - or if you just want to ask questions and talk about the ideas I’d be totally down for that too

Also, if any of them inspire you to write or draw something, please send me a link when you’re done!

(under a readmore cause it’s long and also there’s spoilers)

Fae courts AU

Nedzu - Spring King

U.A. / The Spring Court - also known as the Court of Lost Children, all members of the Court were once human children or children of one of the other Courts and they view it as their duty to care for the lost, neglected, and abused children of the world (one of two child stealing Courts)

All Might - Summer King

All For One - Winter King

Objectively, the Summer and Winter Courts are not as different as they like to believe - a Summer fae is just as likely to trick or turn on you as a Winter fae, they just prefer to play at benevolence while Winter fae make no secret of their nature

Shie Hassaikai / The Autumn Court - used to be more like a lesser version of the Summer and Winter Courts, until Overhaul put the King to sleep and made his research into humanity the Court’s focus - they’re now the second child stealing Court

Eraserhead was once human but has made enough deals over the years - most notably with Nezu himself - that he’s practically fae now

Deku and Kachan are human children who were taken in by the Spring Court, though Deku only after catching the attention of All Might

Endeavor - High Fae in the Summer Court - wants to become Summer King but knows he’s not powerful enough to overthrow All Might, married a High Winter Fae in hopes that combining their powers would make one of their kids powerful enough

Dabi fakes his death and eventually becomes a High Fae in the Winter Court

Shouto seeks sanctuary in the Spring Court’s halls

(I don’t actually have a plot for it, but I’m enjoying figuring out the world and stuff)

Evil All Might AU

The underworld knows that young Yagi Toshinori is a con-artist, and a very good one

The kid’s quirkless, and from a bad neighborhood, so of course he gets involved in shady dealings to get by

But he never ever gets caught

See, he’s mastered the eager, innocent, “I know I’m quirkless, but it’s my dream to be a hero! To fight crime! To be someone people can look up to, put their faith in! To be a… a symbol!” act, he’s been running that con any time he’s found in the wrong place at the wrong time since he first started walking - no one with even a single good bone in their body ever questions it

He gets involved with AFO, who’s like “I could give you one of my lesser quirks in exchange for your loyalty, or you could do a long undercover mission for me and get one of the most powerful quirks in existence out of it”

His mission: pulling his signature con on Shimura Nana, being given One for All, becoming a hero, becoming the Number One Hero and Symbol of Peace and the singular pillar holding up hero society, maintaining that status for long enough that everyone grows a little complacent, finding a weak and manipulable child to pass One for All on to, setting them up to fail, and then retiring

(I’d either have this one be All Might-focused and end with the reveal, or have it be Izuku-focused and give it a happy ending where All Might totally chose the wrong kid, cause nothing about Izuku is weak)

Commission analyst Izuku au

Member of the commission overhears him muttering/catches a glance at his notebook while watching a hero fight, strikes up a conversation

The commission tracks him down, shows up at his home with a similar offer to the one they gave Hawks - but instead of a hero they want him to be an analyst for them

Like Hawks, they take away his name, only calling him something like Eagle Eye or something (I’d go with Hawkeye but Hawks already exists so it might be weird?)

(Basically this fic idea is just an excuse to have Izuku and Hawks as the ultimate team, and helping each other get out from under the commission’s thumb - maybe revolutionizing hero society along the way)

Canon rewrite w/ Monoma as main character, somehow

All I have for this one so far is just:

Monoma copies afo, uses copied afo to steal afo, AFO is now defeated

After getting better at controlling her quirk, Eri rewinds Kurogiri back into Shirakumo Oboro

But he’s the age he was when he died

So he joins the current class 2-A

As in Izuku’s class

Basically it’s just his old best friends having to teach him and him making friends with all Aizawa’s problem children

Time travel

(I have multiple cause I really like time travel)

Aizawa-centric time loop fic

Loop stretching from day before Oboro’s death to towards the end of the liberation war (diverging from canon in at least the first loop cause he fucking dies during the fight)

At first he thinks maybe he just, like, dreamt up those 14(?) years

But then things are happening the same way and so he starts changing things and he dies and wakes up the day before Oboro’s death again

He experiments a lot with the loops, figuring out that they’re definitely not time based - unless it’d loop back at the end of the liberation war even if he survives? Requires further testing

Details he changes throughout the loops (culminating in a loop in which he successfully changes all of them):

Oboro’s death

Shimura Tenko being taken in by All for One, All Might’s injury(?), Izuku accepting One for All, and more I haven’t fully decided on

Time travel fic where Pro Hero Deku accidentally time travels back to just before Aizawa’s first year as a student at ua and somehow gets hired as a teacher

Gonna be a two-parter

Part one: Izuku has to teach teen versions of his old high school teachers, channels their future selves a little

Part two: Aizawa, Yamada, and Kayama have to teach the teen version of their old favorite high school teacher, and end up channeling his future self - in different ways

(I’ve come across a couple different “Izuku gets accidentally sent back in time to when his teachers were students” fanfics and they keep making me think about how Aizawa & co would react to meeting him in canon timeline after meeting him in high school and then I took the natural step forward from there to “let’s parallel their nostalgia, make him their high school teacher so it can really hit hard”)

Izuku is related to rooftop trio aus

(I’ve come across a bunch of “Izuku is the biological son of at least one member of the rooftop trio” aus but only one acknowledges that in canon he’s only 15 years younger than them and that one has a very angsty explanation, so I wanted some that fit with canon and also aren’t too heavy - cause like, sure you could go with the complex extremely angsty trauma reason or you could go with the “these 13-16-year-olds(idk Inko’s canon age and as long as I never look it up I can pretend I’m not going against canon by making her only 2-ish years older than them) did what teenagers do and went to a party and made some relatively innocent mistakes and ended up with a pregnancy”)

Dadoro

Oboro and Inko have been neighbors and best friends their whole childhood, despite being a couple years separated in age

The fall before Oboro starts high school, Inko takes him along to a party with her high school friends

They get drunk and sleep together

Inko gets pregnant

They talk it through with each other and their families and agree to keep the baby (they’re both actually pretty excited to be parents) and raise it together platonically

Some months into first year (maybe second), Oboro tells his friends about his kid

Spends the rest of his life gushing about Izuku to all his friends (sorry for the word choice fjdhshshx)

Oboro dies and his friends make pact to help Inko take care of Izuku once they have steady income and stuff

But Inko’s family has moved and she’s married and they can’t find her

They keep searching, for roughly 14 years

And then Midoriya Izuku enrolls in UA’s hero course and his big green eyes and curly green hair match the pictures Oboro used to show them and his smile is identical to their old friend’s

And his mom’s name is Inko

But they’re not sure (His quirk doesn’t match Oboro’s nor his Inko’s after all)

Not until after the first term and the summer training disaster camp and Kamino, when All Might and Aizawa go house to house talking to parents about the dorms and All Might tries to insist on visiting the Midoriyas alone but Aizawa insists right back cause this is the closest he’s come to confirmation

and then he’s face to face with a woman he’s only ever seen in photographs

And then they talk about everything or something idk I haven’t got that far

Dadzawa and Dadmic (trans!aizawa)

A year and a half before he starts high school(I know I changed the timeline a whole year here but shush, how’s he supposed to get into U.A.’s hero course while pregnant?), Aizawa’s middle school and one or two others have a Joint Event, at which he meets a loud but cute blonde who keeps flirting with him

They hook up

He gets pregnant

His dad insists he get an abortion but he doesn’t want to and his mom supports his decision, they convince his dad to let him go through with the pregnancy on the condition that he gives the baby up for adoption immediately

He has twins, both boys (one with green eyes like the blonde’s(but darker) and the other with purple like Shouta’s mother’s)(that’s right, Shinsou is also their son in this, you’re welcome), and he gives them up for adoption to separate families

But with conditions

No one from his blood family is allowed to initiate contact with either boy without the kid’s knowing consent (he’s terrified of his father changing his mind, tracking them down, and hurting them)

With the one exception being that he’s allowed to send each one a birthday present and card every year

Which he does

Then he starts at UA and then gets into the hero course and there he is… the blonde… the father of Shouta’s children… who does not recognize him now that he’s started transitioning

This time Shouta’s the one who flirts - or tries to, the kid’s a little too oblivious

Of course they do eventually get together, and even end up married! (Haven’t decided if they get together during high school or after they start teaching there or what(probably the latter, for plot reasons))

The first time Midoriya Inko contacts Shouta is after Izuku is diagnosed quirkless - she knows the young man loves her son as much as she does and might be able to reassure him where she already failed

His next birthday, Izuku’s mystery card says he can be a hero even without a quirk; it makes Izuku’s year

Hitoshi’s parents also contact Shouta that year, the boy struggling to make and keep friends ever since his quirk came in; Shouta’s birthday card to him isn’t much different from Izuku’s, really

The Shinsous get in an accident and Hitoshi is placed in foster care and suddenly Shouta can’t send him his yearly gift and card anymore cause nobody will tell him where the boy is now because of the contact portion of the adoption contract

They also won’t tell Hitoshi that he was adopted and his birth father is out there looking for him, so Shouta’s pretty sure they’re trying to hide that he’s being mistreated wherever he is

Inko continues to contact Shouta now and then whenever she thinks Izuku will need extra encouragement come his birthday (she never tells Izuku about being adopted - even after he enters his teen years - cause after his diagnosis, everyone but her left him and she doesn’t want him to internalize the idea that his birth parents didn’t want him - Shouta’s not happy with the decision, but he understands)

Then one year he sends Izuku a Present Mic figurine and she writes him to share how excited the boy was and how Present Mic is one of his favorite heroes and he listens to his radio show all the time and Shouta simultaneously melts and has a minor breakdown at the realization that he hasn’t told his husband that they have sons, he can’t tell Hizashi that their son listens to his radio show regularly when Hizashi doesn’t know Izuku even exists

So of course, being the rational man he is, he finally tells Hizashi about Izuku and Hitoshi

Hizashi freaks, of course (in a good way(mostly))

And then, one of the worst days of Shouta’s life

He’s on patrol and sees a figure on a rooftop and rushes to get there - just in case it’s a jumper - and it’s his son, his Izuku

They talk(it doesn’t breach the adoption contract, he didn’t know it was Izuku when he approached and the kid spoke first) and Izuku tells him “everything” about his encounter with All Might, Shouta tells him to tell his parents - they’re there to support him - and also that All Might’s full of shit and a quirkless hero is totally possible with the right training and enough willpower

Then after they leave the rooftop his kid gets in trouble again, rushing in to save a classmate from the same sludge villain that attacked him earlier that day

Of course Shouta swoops in and pulls the kids out of danger before All Might arrives to “save the day”

This time Shouta insists on walking Izuku home to make sure he actually gets there safely

But then All Might shows up again wanting to talk to his kid privately and he wants to tell the man to fuck off but he’s not legally allowed, really, so when Izuku says it’s fine he reluctantly leaves

Inko asks to meet him just days later

She tells him that Izuku told her everything about what happened that day - including what Shouta told him - and she tells him that she’s realized she needs to properly support her son in pursuing his dream

She understands that Shouta wouldn’t feel comfortable training him one-on-one with the kid not knowing who they are to each other, and she’s still not ready to tell him yet, so she asks for a list, for him to help her get in touch with people who can train Izuku or ways for Izuku to train on his own, ways for her to help

He puts her in contact with seven pro heroes (Midnight, Gunhead, the Wild Wild Pussycats, and - somehow - Sir Nighteye) and a vigilante team (the Naruhata Crawler and his team), all of whom he talks into helping - and has to tell about his connection to this boy they’ll be teaching

(Each have something important to teach him: Midnight - using words and body language to throw off opponents, Gunhead - martial arts, Wild Wild Pussycats - stamina, teamwork and use of your environment when out in nature, Sir Nighteye - analysis and planning, the Naruhata Vigilantes - use of gadgets and weapons, use of your environment when in the city, having the heart of a hero, and - most importantly - that quirkless people can be fucking strong and skilled and terrifying and certainly aren’t weak or useless (they were trained by a quirkless vigilante after all, they’re bound to have a different perspective on the idea of a quirkless hero than anyone else, a perspective Izuku could really benefit from))

Ten months later, Izuku passes UA’s entrance exam and is placed in Shouta’s class (he’s pretty sure Nezu did that on purpose)

When the school year starts, he and Hizashi discover that Izuku isn’t the only one in one of their classes - Hitoshi is in Hizashi’s homeroom

They are, of course, fucking extatic

They just need to, y’know, figure out how to tell him that they’re his parents and maybe possibly would love custody of him if he wants

(Again I haven’t gotten any further than that yet)

(Also, if you can’t tell, in this au Izuku turns down All Might’s offer of One for All, cause Eraserhead said he could be a hero without a quirk and was honestly a lot kinder and more responsible (like, making sure the kid got home safely instead of leaving him on a roof) and stuff than All Might and honestly might be his new favorite hero)

#bnha #mha #midoriya izuku #all might #aizawa shouta #shirakumo oboro #monoma neito #yamada hizashi

[voidcat]

– “Friend” is a four letter word

Characters: Kuroo Tetsurou / gn! reader

requested by anon, prompt 1

wc & genre: 2k - mostly fluff, a bit angst by the end

a/n: the title is literally a 1 trait danger song title, pls dont come @ me, i just thought it was nice to use bc “love” is a four letter word so yea,, also pls dont ship ppl irl or ask them too many Qs abt their relationshio even if they look so good together n should date bc it is rlly rlly annoying (speaking from experience)

The first you meet Kuroo Tetsurou, you don’t even notice.

It’s not surprising, he’s quiet and doesn’t gather attention. You don’t go looking around and keeping an eye on everyone either. The most is you’re just two fish in the vast sea, unaware of one another, too tangled with your own lives.

Then comes a moment, nothing special, almost out-of-a-movie type. It begins with a joke, if it can be considered that. It’s bad, awfully bad, a horrible pun in the middle of chemistry and from the volume of the voice you can tell they hoped no one would hear. But you do, so does few who sit next to him and your giggles dance around in the air. You don’t notice it’s him at that time but you grow to recognize his jokes in the following time.

Kuroo Tetsurou feels like a mystery when your eyes lie on him one afternoon. He’s not bad looking, a part of a sports team, a key member even. And yet compared to all the other jocks he doesn’t bask in the attention, in fact, he doesn’t receive any. Others like to brag and talk smug, as if they’ve discovered life in an inhabitable area and then there’s him. You can’t even tell he plays in the team if it’s not for the uniform and tracksuit he’s in after classes.

You think to yourself, if only jocks were like him. Still, you take no step and neither does he.

Maybe neither of you need to because the universe is more than happy to provide the nudge you both seem to need.

Funny enough it’s a science project that starts it.

He’s too quiet to your liking, speaking only when absolutely necessary. As you desperately try to kill the silence that hangs in the air, he avoids it as hard, making so little sound.

An idea comes as fast the lights are on and you speak before you even get to think ‘what’s there to lose?’

“No science puns for me? What happened, cat got your tongue?”

To say he is baffled, is the understatement of the year. You’re not sure if he’s surprised you’ve heard him joke or want to hear more of them; but either way, he looks cute, with his guard down, at a loss of reaction, mouth slightly open and – is that a hint of blush on his cheeks?

It only goes upwards from then on.

Awkward conversations is how it begins, seeking each other out in close environments is where you’re leaded.

You find yourself enjoying the way he talks, listening to what he has to say, the way his face brightens up when he starts talking out of pure interest. You only hope he feels the same way about you, and from the way he often discreetly directs you to take the lead and pick the topic, he does.

In a short span of time, you two are attached from the hip. Inseparable, always doing something, going somewhere, discussing a thing or just laughing. Shy smiles replaced with a Cheshire-like grin, almost ironic considering your school’s name, that’s only a new expression on him that you like to see.

It feels freeing, natural; as the sea sighs, the rain drops hit the surface and the sun shines. Two peas in a pod, thick as thieves, inseparable…

This goes beyond high school and throughout university too, which you’re grateful for. Because times come when you wonder where would you be without him, what would you do without his support; so you thank the stars once again, for having him in your life even today.

Then comes the times you wish you didn’t spend as much time together because the people around are being insufferable. All you want is to hang out with your best friend but half that time is stolen away by the never changing questions. Those who keep asking if you’re together, as an item. As if it doesn’t rub the salt in the already existing wound, it sure makes things unbearable. Getting approached by people you never saw before is no fun, neither is dealing with those who have the audacity to think you owe an explanation about your love life.

“But why? The two of you spend all the time together! Sure you must be in love!”

As if platonic relationships do not exist, surely do you have to love someone in that way to care for them? Loving Tetsu is a case that matters to only you, you’re happy knowing he cares for you, maybe not in the way as you but at the end of the day, the bond is there in plain sight, on your sleeve.

“But you guys would look so good together! Have you given dating a try? I’m sure it’d work out! I understand if you want to keep things a secret but come on, you must have had something going on-“

Stop, stop, stop…

It gets exhausting after a while, showing its signs on you, the irritation high and your nerves are at the edge, he notices it not long after.

After a little persuasion, you spill it all out, ranting about the pent up anger you had bottled all week –month maybe. You don’t notice the way his shoulders slump as you talk and go on about the stupidity of the people. It misses your attention how he talks less than usual that day, even after the mini ranting session. You do, however, notice how he starts to act strange around you. More preserved, and not as chatty as much. Holding his touch and avoiding contact, not going out of his way to approach you any longer. This drives you crazy, hurts a part of you and you worry –what if he has grown bored of me? Did I do something to hurt his feelings? Does he like someone and avoids me to get in their eye? What has happened, what did I do wrong? And goes and goes and goes the worries and the dynamics shift in your friendship.

So with the change of dynamics, you try desperately to hold onto what you once shared. Soon enough it’s you who invites the other to outings.

When your coffee offers are denied, you bring up walks, after that study dates, as he tries to ignore one attempt of alone time, you come up with another and one evening you find yourself asking to go to a party.

Campus parties with him, are interesting, to say the least. It stings when you’re separated, a punch to the stomach when he’s awfully close to those who were flirting with him, a new kind of torture when he keeps his talks with you short at the scene but at the end of the day you always leave, together, and you settle with this too, as you settled with all his love you could get years ago.

Some nights with booze apparent in the air, you don’t bug him with questions but each party gets worse somehow, only makes the distance between the two harder.

One night you snap and let it all out, unlike that afternoon it wasn’t an asked question but an aftereffect of him pushing your nerves and once you begin, you don’t stop, letting the storm out and he just looks at you.

You stop and his gaze stays, face devoid of any emotion and you worry, all the words you’ve said dawning on you and with one last attempt you whisper “Aren’t we friends?”

Voice calm and stern, colder than that icy cocktail you had: We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.

Holding back the tears by the corner of your eyes, you blink once and turn your back, steps set on your way. You can’t recall the last time you’ve walked home alone, without him.

Some time passes, days begin to blur and you try not to dwell on things too much or think about him that much. But the brain is a traitor as much as your heart and you find yourself thinking about him too much to your liking. Not sure whether you want him to find you, you keep an eye out; maybe plan to get out of the eye sight when you spot that messy hair but there’s not much need as he’s never around.

At the same time you’re unaware that this is his way of giving you a break, providing the alone time you needed away from him; as Tetsu tries his best to gather his thoughts and shape the sentences to show how he truly feels, what he actually thinks, he keeps an eye out for you. Even the smallest of smiles on you making his racing heart worse but what lands the final blow is how rarely you smile these days. Knowing he is the reason behind, knowing he causes the weight on your shoulders and the ache in his heart, he wishes more than anything to change this as soon as he can but he is at a loss of words and actions and he hates himself for that.

When the two of you are brought together once again, as fate pushes you from behind like it did years ago, you’re not sure who looks up first. But it is Tetsu who speaks first, not giving you a chance to say anything back, call him names or yell him insults. And as he talks, eyes focused on you, locked into yours, his gaze warmer than ever, his voice nothing like that disastrous night.

“I know I fucked up and ruined the best thing I’ve ever had in my life. I have nothing to blame but myself, I know, but please. Even though it’s selfish of me to ask this… Would you give me a second chance?”

Letting go of the breath you were holding, you prepare to answer him. He doesn’t let you.

“One last chance… To start over? Because that one sentence, as cold as it sounded, had a truth to it. And I- I just can’t do it anymore. I can’t go on and pretend like I don’t have- like I don’t have all these feelings in me. I can’t nod along to your rants about how much you hate the people perceiving the two of us as more than friends. ‘Cause you got to admit. They have a point. Maybe at the beginning, yes... But we’ve not been friends, not for a long while. And you know it too whether you want to say it or not.”

As if spoken without breathing once, considering this is Tetsu that was definitely the case ,he gulps and takes a step forward.

“Will you give me a last chance and let me show you how much I can love you? Free of this ‘just friends’ title. Would you let me take you on dates and make you laugh wide and loud? Not just as your friend but as your boyfriend? As your partner in crime and in life, as Persephone is the pastel queen of hell in the realm of Hades, the sun to my Icarus, the Sodium to my Chlorine?..”

His speech was getting to you until the last sentence, your softened body goes stone cold, hands hanging in the air, Tetsu’s last pleads of “would you let me?”s falling deaf to your ears.

The gears turn quick and he realizes exactly which one of his words could leave an effect like this, be so ridiculous and bring you to a halt.

One of those smug smiles you saw on his face often, he says “What happened, cat got your tongue?”

And your mouse hanging open, all you can do is smack him on the arm, as hard as you can, for that awful salt simile and for using your words on you.

Before you know it, both of you are laughing and the air feels warm once again.

tags: @celosiiaa​ @boosyboo9206

#dei celebrates 200 #finlly posted this dafsd #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #requested #Reader insert #gender neutral reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo tetsuro oneshot #kuroo tetsurou oneshot #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! x you #hq!! kuroo #hq x reader #hq x you #fluff #angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #tetsurou kuroo x reader #tetsurou kuroo x you

[vintagedolan]

mint chocolate

you’ve been in love with ethan since the early days of your childhood friendship, but what happens when it’s too late to tell him?

word count: 5k

warnings/tags: fluffy fluff lets go ladies

also shoutout to @gloriousgrant​ for this request, ily bby!!

feel free to send in requests! and check out my masterlist if you wanna :)

An elephant’s memory. That’s what your mom had always said - you had an elephant’s memory. Never forgot a detail, a friend, a face. Which is why you could still remember the first halloween party you ever got invited to, all the way back in preschool, as clearly as you could remember what you had for breakfast yesterday.

You didn’t remember the party though, but that was because you didn’t go. It had been a simple decision once you’d found out from eavesdropping on the mom gossip that only 33 of the 35 kids from your class had gotten the cute personalized invitations in the mail. 

Your four year old self said it best - “If etee and gray aren’t going, I’s not going.”

You didn’t realize until you were older that you words had made Lisa cry, overwhelmed and grateful that her boys had a friend at school when everyone seemed to be against them. So, she’d decided to make it the best halloween that she possibly could for her kids, and for you. 

And thus, over way too much sugary candy, smores, trick or treating and the watchful eyes of your mom and Lisa, the trio was born on Halloween night, 2004.

The three of you held strong through elementary school - sat next to each other until the teacher separated you for talking too much, shared your lunches every day. Lisa would even send an extra piece of candy on Friday’s for you in Ethan’s lunch - little pieces of mint chocolate that they kept at the salon for clients. Recess was always your favorite time, because the boys were wild, always finding something more fun than the playground equipment, like trees to climb or hills to roll down. You were fine with that - there were too many kids on the playground anyways. And when little scrawny David tried to kiss you at the top of the slide Ethan shoved him down, getting himself time out for the next three days.

You sat with him in the mulch every day until he was allowed to play again. 

Middle school was where the bumps in the road came along. Grayson went, in his mother’s words, ‘girl crazy’, and in his brother’s words, he ‘became a player’. Turns out, middle school girls don’t trust their boyfriends to have girl best friends, and Grayson fell into the trap, desperate to people please and get a date to the dance. Every time he broke up with them he’d come back, apologize, want to be your friend again, and you let him, because you loved him, even if he was a dick sometimes. 

Ethan was another story. Sure, he had a few 6th grade girlfriends who constituted an after school hug as a date, but the first negative thing they said about you had him bounding down the hallway to your locker to reassure you that he was, once again, a ‘single pringle’.

With Grayson off having Lisa drive him and the girl of the month to the fro-yo shop twice a week, it left space for you and Ethan to get even closer than you already were. You took stupid pictures on his families computer, edited them to high heaven with the strongest contrast and put stupidly fonted “<3″ and “bffz foreva” all around your faces, set them as your blackberry backgrounds. You watched movie reruns and renamed the characters and talked about how Ethan wanted to be an actor someday. You played hide and seek in the Dolan’s backyard, always giving away your hiding spot when one of you got too spooked and ran to the other one. You were allowed to spend the night if you stayed in the living room, which meant you took the couch, Ethan took the floor, and usually Grayson ended up curled up in the recliner, wanting to be a part of the fun once he got home and realized he was missing out. 

Things got worse in 8th grade. The bullying was incessant with the boys growing popularity on vine, and since the three of you were always seen as a unit of sorts, you got pulled into it. There were so many jeers in the hallways that you couldn’t keep track of them. The trio reunited, Grayson clinging to you as one of the few friends he could trust. It became texts of ‘lets eat lunch by the band room, no one will bother us over there’ and ‘hey, I heard Jillian earlier, u ok?” snuck under science room tables. You got suspended for punching a guy who wouldn’t shut his mouth about Ethan in September - your parents were pissed but you didn’t care - no one was going to fuck with your friends. 

Your reprieves were after school when you could hang out like you always had... well, after they got done with football or lacrosse or wrestling practice. They’d come home sweaty, smelling like gym mats, texting you to come over. If your mom couldn’t take you over Lisa would come pick you up - even Cameron got you a few times, acting like it was a chore but secretly glad that her brothers had someone, anyone, to rely on. You went to every single one of their games and matches, wrote 47 and 8 on your cheeks in face paint and yelled as loud as you could, ate celebratory ice cream with them when they won. 

Things got, somehow, even worse freshman year of high school. The bullying was even more intense, with threats posed against both of them, and against you. Ethan got secretive for the first time in his entire friendship with you. One minute he was even more clingy than usual, and the next day he was quiet and distant. It took you calling him out on it one night for him to finally fess up.

And it was those four painful words that made you realize that you were in love with Ethan Dolan.

“We’re moving to LA.”

You cried. Ethan cried. Grayson cried. Lisa cried. 

But you dried your tears, put on a brave face, told him how proud you were of him, of both of them. They were chasing their dreams, making it happen for themselves in a way that you could only admire. What type of friend would you be if you tried to hold them back?

You made the most of the last month that they were still in New Jersey, hanging out every minute that you could, helping them look at apartments in LA online, watching them film videos for their channel, supporting them every step of the way. 

You lost track of how many times you had to reassure Ethan that you’d be fine in high school without him, even if it wasn’t true. He’d told you over and over to just pretend like you weren’t friends with them anymore - anything to get the bullying to stop. You told him no way in hell. 

You stayed the night at the Dolan’s house in October, the night before they got on the plane to move out. It was fun, an early halloween celebration of sorts, mixed with a going away party that had you laughing as much as it had you crying. 

The real kicker came around midnight, after Grayson had fallen asleep in the chair that he was much too big for now, and you and Ethan were left in the silence. 

“I’m gonna miss you. So much. I don’t know what life looks like without you,” you admitted with teary eyes, toying with his fingers.

“I’m gonna miss you more. But I’ll always be here to visit, and it’ll be just like old times.”

You doubted that, but you weren’t going to say it. The thought of not seeing him everyday, having him so far away, surrounded by new people, new girls - it put a lump in your throat that you couldn’t quite get the words “I’m in love with you” around. You’d realized that it was more than just friendship for you as soon as he told you he was leaving - but you couldn’t bring yourself to put that on him when he already felt guilty enough for leaving you behind.

So you just nodded at his promises of flying you out to LA when they got enough money, showing you all around California, tried to believe him when he said you were always going to be his number one, and fell asleep against his chest. 

You rode with them to the airport, held their hands the whole way in the backseat and kept your head held high as you hugged them and sent them through security.

You sobbed the whole way home. Even after you managed to pull yourself together a little bit, when you got that made it, miss you already text that signaled they had landed that night, a whole new wave of tears made their appearance. 

You knew it would be hard, but you didn’t realize just how lonely you were going to be without both of them, but especially Ethan at your side. 

But there was a silver lining.

It was in those next few months that you realized that Ethan always kept his promises. He facetimed you whenever he could, showed you around their apartment, asked you to explain how to make mac and cheese cause he was ‘gonna starve’. He sent you pictures of everywhere cool he visited in LA, even sent you postcards sometimes just for fun. And when he came to visit a month later he stopped at your house first, knocking incessantly until you opened the door and threw your arms around him. Once the tears had stopped - the ones you let flow and the ones he blinked back, he reached into his bag and pulled something out.

“Look what I found in the airport in LA. Your favorite.” He placed the mint chocolate bar in your hands with a grin, proud of himself for putting such a big smile on your face. 

And so, the tradition began. 

Every time he came back to New Jersey he was on your doorstep, and every time he brought you one of those little chocolate bars. It didn’t matter that he was home to see his family, because any time you brought it up he’d wave you off, reassure you that ‘you are family bub’, making you fall more and more in love with him every time. 

When he had the money, he flew you out to California, showed you all his favorite places. He took you to the beach, on hikes, made sure you got the full cali experience with him at your side.

There were times over the years where he visited less, or visited more. But It didn’t matter if it’d been a week or 3 months since you’d seen him - the butterflies were all the same when you saw him again. 

You were sure to catch up each time you reunited, going down the list of everything you might of missed, even if you still talked every day. It went like so:

One: how’s the channel going? To which he would ask “how’s school?”

Two: any new friends? He’d ask the same.

And then came question number three, your least favorite:

Got a girlfriend?

You’d wait with bated breath every time, sighing out in secret relief when he’d say “nah, don’t have time” or “no, LA girls are weird”. And then you’d go on with whatever you had planned that day, whether it was just hanging around your old Jersey stomping grounds or sit in your room, and eventually your apartment when you moved out, heart a bit lighter.

Maybe that’s why it hurt so bad on his last visit when he’d hesitated on that question, looked down at his hands.

The most painful four words you’d been told changed that afternoon, when he finally answered.

“Yeah, I do actually.” 

You’d always known it was going to happen eventually - you’d been preparing for it in the back of your mind for a while now. You saw the comments on every post he made, the replies to his tweets, thousands and thousands of adoring girls, and it only grew every single day. Maybe it had been dumb to think that he’d ever realize just how in love with him you were, dumb to think that maybe, maybe, he saw you that way too. 

So, you put on your brave face, forced that smile to spread over your face and ran through the motions.

“Really?! What, since when?!” had never sounded faker than when they came out of your mouth, laced with false enthusiasm. 

And you listened to him tell you all about her, Allison, a girl he’d met at an LA party that he didn’t want to go to. You nodded at the right times, smiled and asked questions you didn’t care to know the answers to. 

You secretly wished hearts made a noise when they broke - maybe it would have stopped the conversation, saved you from having to see his face light up when he said her name, the blush that spread across his cheeks when he told you about his first date with her. 

Three months passed - and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t run at least part of that conversation through your head every day since you had it. It was nice that Ethan wasn’t the type to put his relationship out to the public - a front row seat would only make it worse, you were sure. 

You decided it was time to try, to really try to find someone that wasn’t Ethan. Sure, you’d talked to people in the past, but you’d never gone all in when trying to find someone to be with, because, well, there was really only one on your mind anyways. 

Which was why it was weird to answer one of Ethan’s usual what’re you up to this week texts with not much, work, hanging out with my parents, got a date tomorrow night. You all still working on the candle launch stuff?

At his kitchen counter in LA, Ethan frowned as he read it. Date.

“What?” Grayson asked, reading his twin’s face as he washed the pans from dinner.

“Y/N’s going on a date.” 

“Huh. Well, good for her,” he shrugged, looking down at the water running over his hands, eyes flickering up to Ethan’s face, trying to figure out if he should say what he’s thinking. Fuck it, if he gets pissed he gets pissed. “How do you feel about that?”

That got Ethan’s attention off his phone screen.

“How do I feel about that? What’s that supposed to mean?” The defensiveness in his tone had Gray tensing up a bit.

“It’s just a question bro.” 

“I have a girlfriend Grayson.” 

Grayson stopped scrubbing, annoyed at his brother’s tone. He’d tried to be supportive, loving - but he was getting tired of Ethan complaining about his relationship woes and not doing anything about it. 

“Yeah, who you said you wanted to break up with twice last week, for the record. And you’re the one that brought up Y/N, not me,” he pointed out, knowing that if he was already gonna piss his brother off, he might as well say everything he wanted to say. 

“You never liked Allison,” Ethan snapped.

“Fuckin facts, cause she’s manipulative and fake.”

“No she isn’t.” He threw Grayson a glare, pressing his hands together until his knuckles popped.

“If you actually believed that you would have hit back with an actual argument just now. I mean jesus Ethan, she told you you couldn’t go back to see Y/N for god’s sake. That used to be your fuckin’ dealbreaker back in the day, why would you put up with that shit now?” 

“I didn’t put up with it, I told her it wasn’t negotiable and I went to Jersey anyways!” He was yelling now, hands gripping the edge of the counter.

“Yeah, and then she gave you the silent treatment for a week when you got back like a fuckin’ six year old. That’s some middle school shit and you know it E. You don’t have to put up with that, you can find somebody who treats you better.” 

“Will you fucking stop Grayson?” He threw his hands in the air, exasperated. “I’ve got enough shit going on right now, I don’t need you in my head too.” 

“Fine. But friends don’t get jealous when their friends go on dates, especially not when that friend is across the fucking country. Just so you know.” He watched his brother put his face in his hands and felt that familiar pang in heart that made him add a “I’ll be in my room if you wanna talk about it” before he walked out.

Grayson had mastered the art of keeping tabs on Ethan without him knowing. So even from his room he heard him leave, and based on how long he sat in the driveway with the car running, he knew exactly where he was going.

So, he wasn’t fully surprised when Ethan came into his room three hours later without knocking and laid down on his bed next to him without a word, staring up at the ceiling.

“So...”

“So.” Ethan repeated. 

“Did you uh...”

“Break up with her?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I did.” 

“Cool. How’d she take it.”

“About exactly how you'd expect.”

“Ugly sobbing?”

“So much ugly sobbing.” 

“Sounds on brand.”

The conversation faded into silence, only the hum of the fan spinning in the corner filling the room. Grayson let it go on for a few minutes before he spoke up again.

“So.”

“So.”

“You goin’ back to Jersey?”

Ethan perked up at that one, sitting up slightly and turning so he could look at his brother. He quirked an eyebrow, waiting for the explanation. 

“C’mon bro. You can’t act like Y/N doesn’t have anything to do with this. I mean, you should have dropped Allison a while ago, but it’s not a coincidence that the idea of Y/N going on a date was what made you do it now. You should just tell her how you feel. Put it all on the table.”

He pondered that for a minute, staring up at the white ceiling.

“I hate sharing a brain with you, you fuck,” were the words he eventually chose, rolling over and pulling out his phone. Grayson smirked when he saw what he searched - American Airlines.

“Not my fault we split into two goops.”

Ethan typed in the flight plan he’d done more than any other - LAX -> EWR. 4 hours and 56 minute, like usual. There was one leaving in just over an hour and a half, and the knot that formed in his stomach was all too familiar. It came around every time he waited on the doorstep of her apartment in New Jersey, waited for her to show up at the door with that bright smile that had never changed, never wavered. He’d do anything to have her smiling like that all the time.

“Maybe I shouldn’t do this.” 

Grayson’s brows furrowed, knitting together above his eyes. “What?”

“What if she gets mad that I ruined her date. I don’t wanna fuck that up for her. She could be happy with the guy.” The words tasted like metal on his tongue. 

“Oh c’mon Ethan. She’s only dating somebody because you’re dating somebody. Well, were, I guess.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know how she feels about me.”

“You’re forgetting that I’ve been her friend for just as long as you have. You just gotta trust me on this bro. It’s not a coincidence that she starts going on dates when you tell her you’ve got a girl.”

“So many coincidences,” Ethan huffed.

“So many not coincidences,” Grayson corrected, raising his eyebrows and waiting for him to give in. 

“Am I just supposed to show up at her house? I’m not gonna get to Jersey until-” he did the time change math that was second nature by now “- shit, like 2am? That’s kinda sus.”

“Right, because showing up at her house isn’t the first thing you do every time we go home anyways.” Grayson rolled his eyes. “What time’s the flight?” 

“In like an hour and a half.”

“We can make it, just pack a bag real quick, I’ll start the car up.”

“Okay. Okay.” Ethan nodded, standing up and waiting for a minute before he fully decided that holy shit, he was finally gonna do this, and then he was running down the hall towards his room.

“And don’t wear shorts! Put on some fuckin’ pants and look decent at least!” Grayson called after him with a grin.

“I can dress myself bro, fuck off!” 

It turns out, Ludacris mode on a tesla comes in handy when you’re trying not to miss a flight. They sped all the way to LAX, barely time for a hug and a “text me when you get there” before Ethan was running through TSA precheck and barely making the last boarding call of Flight 8333. He took the numbers as a sign that he was doing the right thing, that everything was going to work out.

The nerves really hit when he got settled in his seat on the plane, tattooed thigh bouncing on the floor, covered by his Louis pants. His shoes didn’t match the outfit very well, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He hadn’t had much time to do anything but run through the terminals - he hoped he didn’t stink, didn’t forget anything.

Fuck. The chocolate. 

He twitched in his seat, ready to run back out and head to that little convenience store where the manager knew his name, knew he was only there to get a diet root beer for the flight and a mint chocolate bar. But it was no use - the place was probably closed, and it wasn’t like he could get off the plane anyways.

So he put his headphones in, turned on his playlist and closed his eyes as they started to taxi down the runway, praying that maybe he could sleep. Behind his eyelids, memories of you played like a mixture between a slideshow and a movie - little snippets and still images of times he had committed to memory, swore he would never forget.  

You, with your toes in the California sand for the first time, so excited to see the beach and the ocean waves crashing, face lighting up as you ran towards the water. Your fourth grade halloween costume - the first year the three of you had coordinated, all of you going as little skeletons. Sitting in the middle school hallway with lunch balanced carefully on your legs, swapping sandwiches and laughs. You hugging him goodbye when he left for LA, how he never wanted to let go, wished he could take you with him more than anything else. Every visit, every time he counted down the days before he could make it back to see you.

He couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t in love with you, wasn’t trying to convince himself that it would be wrong to ask you to try long distance, wrong to ‘hold you back’ or ask you to support someone, to love someone, so far away. It almost felt childish now, the thought that the two of you were going to end up with anybody else. His nerves prickled at the daunting task that he knew was awaiting him when the plane wheels touched down again, so he focused on your face instead, trying to breathe.

It was both the longest and quickest flight of his life somehow. 

He got a rental car - it was no smooth cat, but it would do - text Grayson that he was safe, and headed out in the familiar direction of your apartment before he could stop himself. He hadn’t made it four minutes down the interstate when the rain started falling, slow at first until it grew into a downpour that was roaring against the car. 

His wipers worked double time, keeping his windshield just clear enough for him to find his way to your parking lot. 

Heart in his throat, he threw his door open, stepping out into the rain before he could talk himself into turning around, jogging to your door and knocking.

In your bed, your eyes shot open. You waited for another knock, heart beating fast when you heard it, and then the constant rhythm of them afterwards. You rolled over, checked your phone.

2:16am.

“Who in the fuck,” you grumbled, sitting up and rubbing at your eyes as you headed out the door of your room in your pajamas, confused and concerned. If it was your drunk neighbor again, you were going to kill him. 

Popping up on your tiptoes, you peeked through the peep hole, breath catching in your throat. 

There was no way.

You blinked hard, looked again.

You knew that face, and you threw the door open, relief and panic playing tug of war on your heartbeat.

“Ethan? What- what the hell are you doing here? Are you okay? Is something wrong?” It wasn’t unlike him to show up and surprise you, but it had never been in the middle of the night. Still, he looked perfect as always, even with his drenched hair plastered to his head and soggy clothes. 

“I’m okay.” 

“Okay... well come inside, come outta the rain,” you reached out to grab his shirt, pull him inside, but he caught your hand, holding on tightly.

“I gotta say something first, and then you can decide if you wanna let me in.” He was too formal, more serious than you were used to and it had your stomach in knots. 

“You’re scaring me a little E.” 

“Don’t be scared. It’s just me.” His eyes shone, even in the dark, with a familiarity that settled you a bit and you nodded, waiting for him to say whatever it was. 

“I don’t know why I never thought it was okay for us to love each other. No, that’s not right, that’s not what I meant to say. I... hang on.” 

He took a deep breath, rainwater spraying a bit off his lips when he pushed it out and tried again.

“A long time ago, when we were kids, I convinced myself that we couldn’t love each other, because I couldn’t handle losing you. You’ve been my rock, my only constant outside my family for my entire life, and I don’t think I would have made it without you. So I just decided that we couldn’t love each other like that. And that was selfish. Because I’ve always been in love with you I think. Back then I don’t think I realized what it was. But now, when I look back, I think that’s what it was.”

You’ve always been the person I wanna see every day, especially when I can’t. The first person I think of when I wake up, the one I’m thinking about when I go to sleep. You’re my favorite human on the whole planet, and if soulmates are real I think that’s us. I don’t know why I ever tried to be with anybody else when you were here the whole time.”

And I know it’s not fair for me to put all this on you right now, especially when you tried to be supportive of me with other girls. But that text, you telling me you were going on a date. It slapped me in the face, made me realize just what I was about to give up, what was about to slip through my fingers if I didn’t get my shit together and just tell you everything. So... here I am. I’m here, and I love you... I’m in love with you. And I just needed you to know that. I’m in love with you Y/N. Always have been. And I kinda think that you could be in love with me too. Or at least, I hope maybe you are.” 

He had been looking at you the whole time, but you saw the nerves take over as he realized everything he had just said out loud, as he watched you, waited for your reaction. 

“I...” Your brain was spinning, unable to understand how everything you’d been waiting your whole life to hear had just come out of his mouth, all at once. 

It wasn’t a conscious decision - more of an instinct. Two steps forward out into the rain and then you were throwing your arms around his neck, up on your tip toes to finally, finally, press your lips to his like you’d dreamed about doing so many times. 

Your fantasies hadn’t done it justice. He was so warm, so familiar, so Ethan. His hands went to your waist, fingers curling and pulling you against him as he leaned in so hard that you leaned back with him, smiling as your hands came around to hold his face, hold him to you, unwilling for the moment to ever end. 

You didn’t even notice the rain.

“Am I dreaming?” You hadn’t meant to say it out loud but it slipped past your lips anyways, making Ethan’s chest swell and his smile get even brighter as he pulled back enough to look at you.

“No baby. This is real. This is us, right here, right now.” 

"No fuckin’ way,” you breathed, running your thumbs over his cheeks before he kissed you again, walking you backwards into the house and out of the downpour and over to the couch. 

“I love you. So much. Sorry I forgot your chocolate by the way,” he grinned after he sat down and pulled you onto his lap, gazing up at you like you hung the moon and stars.

“You’re so much better than mint chocolate. I love you too.” You kissed him again just because you could, relishing in the feeling of him there with you, not a worry or a care in the world.

#WOOOOOOOOO #i sped wrote the end of this haha i have class SO SOON #love you guys!!!! #lynds writes #ethan imagine #ethan dolan #ethan dolan x reader #ethan dolan fanfiction #dolan twins #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins fic

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, we’ve added to our friends to lovers rec list. You can find part one here and there will also be a part three (and possibly a part four!) up eventually, which will be linked here when it’s been posted. We hope you enjoy these fics! Happy reading.

1) Roses In The Rain | Mature | 5267 words

“Don’t- I know what you’re going to ask, and I… Harry, I can’t,” he said, his voice cracking. “Please. You know that I can’t.”

Louis had his six siblings and his old house with its falling-apart porch to take care of. This town was where people still approached him, 8 years after high school graduation, to tell him that they loved him as Danny in Grease. This town was where he had his pick of suitors, where he had his first kiss, where he took his first steps, where his mama lived, died, and was buried, and he couldn’t leave just to follow some man that he loved.

Harry, for now, seemed to understand that.

“Okay, baby,” Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Okay.”

2) Candy In Your Mouth (I Know You Love Me) | Explicit | 6937 words

Things have shifted since last Christmas.

3) Glimpse Of The Silhouettes | Explicit | 7181 words

Harry isn't sure what the rules are for this. It's hard to believe that there are any, that's there's a handbook just waiting for him to buy: why is my best mate getting hard in my lap when I touch his arse?

4) Woke Up Feeling Knotty | Explicit | 7903 words

Beta Louis has a kink for knotting and the secret aesthetic porn blog he runs about it is more than proof.  When he accidentally finds out his alpha best friend Harry is one of his biggest fans, he knows he has to come clean after everything that has already happened between them.  Harry just might be willing to help him out anyway.

5) A Love Reaction | Explicit | 9968 words

It's never been a thing. Not until now.

6) Got It Right Such A Long Time Ago | Explicit | 9699 words

Four months into One Direction's hiatus, Louis comes to stay with Harry after a bad breakup.

7) (You're Gonna See Me In A) New Light | Mature | 13631 words

A fake relationship AU where everyone knows it's real but Louis.

8) As A Memento From Me | Explicit | 15817 words

Five lives in which Harry and Louis didn’t end up together, and one in which they did.

9) I Put A Spell On You | Explicit | 17525

A BBC/Secret Santa mashup featuring Captain Niall, our intrepid weatherman/amateur matchmaker, rather clueless sports reporter Liam, charming political analyst Zayn, and cheeky entertainment reporter Louis. Harry is the new fashion correspondent who prefers to dress like a flamingo. And pining. There’s a lot of pining.

10) Oblivious | Explicit | 19095 words

Where Louis gets a little crush on Luke and for some reason Harry starts acting weird.

11) Break Open The Sky | Explicit | 20372 words

Werewolf AU. Harry might be a werewolf, but he still wants to experience Uni like everyone else. Turns out he learns a lot.

12) Runnin’ Like You Did | Explicit | 20061 words

The college AU where Louis knows how to hold a grudge and is definitely not in love with Harry Styles.

13) UN(RE)SOLVED. | Explicit | 20873 words

The ghoul boys are back, but this time around there are some unresolved feelings involved. Harry is a skeptic, Louis is not. Watch them go on their ongoing investigation into the question: are ghosts real?

14) Hats Off To My Distant Hope | Explicit | 20990 words

Harry is in White Eskimo. Louis is in London.

15) The Way The Storms Blow | Explicit | 20649 words

Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick.

That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way.

Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in.

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.

16) Love Like Wildfire | Explicit | 21774 words

Louis was an Omega and a Prefect. Harry was an Alpha and a little rascal. They were mates, drawn to each other since they first met in the Hogwarts Express. They worked well like that, or at least they tried, which only made their relationship way more interesting.

17) Indestructible | Explicit | 24423 words

“Hi,” Harry murmurs, and Louis hiccups out a sob.

“Hi,” he manages, still clutching onto Harry’s shoulders. Harry’s fingers drift across Louis’ cheeks, and there’s something off about Harry’s expression, but Louis can’t figure out what it is.

“I’m okay,” Harry says, and Louis is going to say something to that, even if he doesn’t know what, except Harry’s kissing him.

Louis freezes.

18) A Whole New World | Not Rated | 24967 words

Louis has moved into his new apartment to start his new job as a teacher. Things would be great. If only his arsehole neighbour didn't wake him up every morning by playing piano.

19) Another Day Gettin’ Into Trouble | Explicit | 25619 words

Harry’s drunk when the idea occurs to him. He’s also a pop star, so sometimes his drunk ideas turn into actual things instead of just ideas. The clone-a-willy kit is one of them.

In Harry’s defense, when he first thinks about it his intention is just to buy the kit and give it to Louis to make his own dildo with, because that’s what he wants anyway, right? To have a penis filling him up?

Then he realizes that it would be weird if Louis made a copy of his own dick to fuck himself with. It’d be super weird. Louis fucking himself? That’s a weird idea. Harry’s pretty sure Louis wouldn’t like that.

Clearly the only solution here is to use his own dick for the mold.

20) Brooklyn Saw Me | Explicit | 28537 words

In the cold and unforgiving city of New York, Louis doesn't have a home and Harry wants to give him one. But as their heartstrings become increasingly intertwined, and the snow continues to fall, home is getting harder and harder to find.

21) Rivers ‘Til I Reach You | Explicit | 29315 words

AU. Louis studies astronomy; Harry studies Louis. They spend their summers on the water and it shouldn't be complicated (spoiler: it is).

22) If Ignorance Be Bliss | Mature | 30429 words

Uni AU: Harry is too experienced, and Louis just wants to get to experience him.

23) Blind From This Sweet, Sweet Craving | Explicit | 31170 words

"So, I guess we'll go?" Louis asks later, when Harry has calmed down and eaten his weight in Chinese food. He plays with this chopsticks, spearing another piece of chicken and pops it in his mouth. "I mean, I wouldn't mind. We could make it an adventure."

Harry observes him, watches him seated across from him on their old living room carpet, with a container of food on his lap. He's fidgeting, avoiding meeting Harry's gaze–he probably knows that Harry's mad at him for ruining the one chance they had to get out of this situation. And he's not wrong, Harry is definitely very mad. Harry wants to strangle him and castrate him and smack him upside the head.

But he's also Harry's best friend, and despite everything, despite all the fuck-ups and the plot twists and everything just not playing out the way it should, he'd still rather be stuck in this situation with Louis than any of the other boys. He's got Harry's back, and in a weird, abstract way, he knows they'll be able to get out of this situation, together.

Harry sighs. "We're going," he says resignedly, his shoulders slumping.

Oh well. There are definitely worse ways to spend the weekend than pretending to be engaged to his best friend.

24) Welcome Back From The Friend Zone | Mature | 32354 words

The one where an idea to create a fake wedding with the sole intent to receive gifts from billionaires took a turn no one, but also everyone, saw coming.

25) The List | Mature | 32074 words

'In the weeks that follow, Harry opens his old journal more than he has in the past two years each time he remembers Venice or thinks about Louis. He always flips to the same random page in the middle of the book, marked by the picture of himself that Louis sent him a few days after they got home. There’s a message on the back that says, ‘Spontaneous looks good on you! See you soon,’ and it makes Harry’s chest warm each time he reads it. He wedges their list out from between the worn pages, and it feels silly staring down at a folded up piece of paper with a strange sense of nostalgia for experiences they’ve yet to have; for places they’ve never even been.'

26) Mark My Word (We Gon’ Be Alright) | Explicit | 35524 words

An A/B/O AU featuring an oblivious Harry as the pack leader, a pining Louis as his second-in-command, and an entourage of friends and family who are a little too good at keeping their mouths shut.

27) The Sun Will Rise With My Name On Your Lips | Explicit | 37927 words

When Eleanor breaks up with Louis he finds it hard to keep pretending that Harry isn’t what he’s wanted since the day he first met him.

28) Runner On Third | Explicit | 39643 words

Note: The sequel to this fic is not BL.

The AU where Louis and Harry were best friends growing up, but lost touch after Harry moved away. Ten years later, Harry has moved back to town, but he and Louis don't pick up where they left off.

29) My Sweetest Downfall | Mature | 42048 words

Louis is a retired guardian angel. After the death of his last charge, he became jaded. Humans die—what use is prolonging the inevitable?

He's more than happy to forget about humanity altogether until one day, when Louis is pulled from his desk job for a new assignment: protect One Direction's Harry Styles. It doesn't help that there's something about Harry that Louis can't resist, and it's making him question everything he's ever known. Humans are strictly off limits, and breaking that rule means risking everything, but Harry just might be worth it.

This is a story about forgiveness and discovery, featuring an angel who wants to be a little more human and a human who is so much more than he seems.

30) For the Sake of Propriety | Mature | 52360 words

Louis Tomlinson is the caretaker of an estate that is not truly his, and when his Uncle calls upon him to take it back, Louis knows he will soon be out on the streets with four overly zealous sisters to care for.  His only solution: wed the eldest two off and pray for the best.  When an even better solution unexpectedly presents itself in the form of the charming Mr. Styles, Louis is faced with a difficult choice.  But as with all things in the regency era, reputation very well may threaten to outweigh the fleeting matters of his heart.

31) The Bachelor | Explicit | 53953 words

The one where Harry dates six other guys and still falls in love with Louis Tomlinson.

32) We’ve Got the World in Our Hands | Explicit | 54964 words

Note: This fic has been locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

A mutants/superpowers AU. Louis and his friends attend the Cowell Institute for General Education and Mutant Training in London; when Louis meets Harry, the newest student at the Cowell Institute, he immediately recruits Harry to help play matchmaker for his friend Zayn. Harry and Louis are so caught up in meddling in Zayn's love life, though, that they don't notice that their own friendship is progressing into something more. Meanwhile, an ominous threat up north grows slowly until suddenly, no mutant - or human - is safe.

33) Waiting For The Tides To Meet | Explicit | 49873 words

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

34) Since I’ve Found You | Mature | 74005 words

Louis woke up on the morning he was meant to volunteer at the Feed the Homeless program at St. Mary's church hoping for an opportunity to give back a little to a city that has given him everything he could ever want. Little did he know, there was one more great thing waiting there for him; a boy with radiant green eyes in a weathered jacket and a beat-up backpack slung over his shoulders.

35) Saving Symphony Hall | Mature | 124766 words

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic.

“I think I have an idea,” Louis said. Slowly, and reluctantly, but with a growing sense of the inevitable. “God damnit, I think I have a really good idea.”

“Oh christ, that's the problem-solving face,” Babs said. “Last time we saw that face, he sold a company.”

“Wait, what?” Zayn asked.

“Right place, right time,” Louis said. “Also, fuck my life,”

“What?” Zayn repeated. Niall patted his hand.

“I usually just roll with whatever Louis is about to do,” he said. “It’s better for us all.”

“That’s the attitude,” said Louis, “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Tonight, I need to do some research. Zayn, give me your number. I’m gonna save our symphony.”

36) Falling Into You | Mature | 143517 words

In the grand scheme of adolescence and boyhood, Harry was still working himself out, so far with little luck. But four things he could say for certain: 1) he'd been at the top of his class all through primary and secondary school, 2) he was the shittiest alpha to ever walk the earth, 3) Liam Payne never let him forget it, and 4) he’d been in love with this boy, Louis Tomlinson, ever since he was fifteen years old.

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