#the man's mothering instinct stayed with him even in his insanity and he managed to find insane children to claim as his own | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

turtle-steverogers · 3 years

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hii, it's the unsent project anon again!! sometimes i think about steve. instead of going back in time for yk, he goes back in time to see his mother again. and has a dance with his mother because he never got to before for several reasons. it would be more rocking from foot to foot than anything else. and steve can barely see through his clumped up lashes from the tears while she strokes the side of his head before cradling it (its a bit of a stretch because he is all big and healthy now) while muttering, "my stevie, my boy" and steve just grins "it's me, ma".

(he would come back after spending some time with her, with a heavy heart but still)

was thinking about this at like 3 in the morning

anon i genuinely think you're trying to murder me lakjdflksjfaskdjflksf

anyway i wrote another fic

There are extra white jackets in the back closet, and Steve steals one that’s approximately his size, despite the shoulders being a bit too tight. Pants are a little harder to come by, but he manages to find a pair that look like they’ll fit him in some poor chap’s locker. He tugs them on, grimacing at the way they hug his thighs and fall only to his ankles. They’ll have to do.

He’d already scoped out the hospital the night before-- he knows she’s on the third floor in a private ward. Good, he thinks. She deserves it, if nothing else.

He is focused as he moves through the halls, head down as he passes other nurses. There’s a clipboard discarded on a table near the children’s ward and he swiftly picks it up, squinting at it. He doesn’t process any of the words on the page, but his act seems sound, because nobody stops him.

He makes it to the stairwell at the end of the hall, pushes open the door and takes the steps two at a time. The smell is one that is achingly familiar-- the walls grey and hazy. The air seems thicker, the lights yellow and dim. And though he’s been removed from the past for over a decade, it still feels like home. Like normal. His normal.

But he does not belong anymore, and he will not stay. He’s already been a ghost once. He’s hesitant to be one again.

Especially now, when he is out there somewhere. Most likely in the shitty tenement he shared with Bucky, but also possibly at the grocer he worked at, his ma’s telegram in his pocket. Savoring the bits of her that he could salvage with the knowledge he’d never see her again, even while she’s alive.

Closure has been something Steve always felt he lacked. But he’s seen hell now-- lived in its fiery pits for more years than he can count. He can take some goddamn closure for himself.

The third floor is nearly vacant. No one is in the hallway when Steve steps out of the stairwell, but he can hear voices in the rooms that line the sides. Coughs echo ominously off the walls, and Steve’s toes curl in his shoes, a brief wave of anxiety washing over him. He hadn’t missed these hospitals, and he’d hoped to never deliberately step foot in one again. But this is necessary. This is worth it.

He walks swiftly towards the end of the hall where the private wards are and stops in front of the first room. The name next to the door is incorrect, so he continues on until he sees it, heart stopping in his chest, then speeding up enough to make his lungs tighten.

Sarah Rogers-- TB. Alternative uniform required.

Steve closes his eyes against the blood rushing from his head. He wants to tell himself it’s been so long since he’s felt this detached from reality-- this out of place in a space that should feel so familiar-- but it hasn’t. The feeling, he’s realizing, never truly left him when he woke up from the ice, and the reverse here is strange.

And there’s something even stranger about reconciling this, because he’d lost his ma far before he’d ever died. This grief is an old wound-- one that’s scabbed over only to bleed circumstantially. He’d grown used to living with this particular, bone deep pain. He isn’t sure if he’s here to lance that, or if he’ll walk away with a deeper wound. He isn’t sure it matters, either.

He pushes open the door.

The room is lit with natural light. There is a desk with a vase and a water pitcher on it, along with a few medicine bottles and a tissue box. The bed is pressed against the far wall, the covers barely disturbed save for the frail figure that lies in it.

Sarah turns her head and looks at Steve.

Steve’s world stops.

He hadn’t seen his ma when she was this ill. His last memories of her are of when she was healthy-- cheeks red and full of life, eyes alight with an optimism he still valiantly tries to uphold. Life had not been kind to Sarah Rogers, but she was the kindest soul Steve had ever known, even in the shadow of his father’s violence.

Is, he corrects himself as he looks at her. She is the kindest soul. She’s there. She’s right there.

She’s right there, and she looks weak. She is gaunt and frail, eyes sunken in and cheekbones sharp against papery looking skin. There’s an exhaustion in the lines of her young face that Steve recognizes as the long standing effects of illness-- your body praying to be done fighting while your mind begs otherwise.

Steve resists the urge to turn and run.

Sarah’s face does something strange as she looks at Steve, and he realizes that he’s been standing there for longer than would be normal for a nurse-- shell shocked and silent. She opens her mouth to say something, then stops, eyes widening as she seems to process what she’s looking at. Or who she’s looking at, most likely.

A wizened hand comes up to cover her mouth and she gasps, fear flashing through her eyes and no, no, no--

Fuck, he’d thought of this. He’d had a fucking plan for this, but he can’t remember it now and he really doesn’t want his ma calling security on him, because he has so much to say, and--

“Ma,” he says frantically, taking an aborted step forward. She shies away and he stops, hands flexing at his sides. “Ma, it’s me. I swear it’s me, I can explain.”

Sarah looks suddenly furious. “This is not funny, young man. I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave this instant.”

Fuck, her voice. Her goddamn voice, as weak as it is now, still has the same strong cadence. The subtle Irish twang. And fuck, Steve can’t help it. He bursts into tears.

“Fuck,” he says, falling to his knees. Why did he think he could do this? Why did he think he could stomach the weight of everything that’s happened since he last saw her-- handle standing in front of her with blood on his hands, underneath his fingernails. In his goddamn soul. What would she even think of him now?

He sobs, biting down on a knuckle to keep silent, his other arm going around his stomach. It’s how he used to cry when he was much younger, and more frantic, and that seems to convince Sarah more than anything.

“Steven?” she says. She sounds incredulous. Damnit, she probably thinks she’s hallucinating. Steve had hallucinated a couple times when he was ill enough and his fever was high. Mostly his father, but he’ll digress.

He looks up, and he can barely see her through the tears that clump on his eyelashes. Sarah’s face does something complicated, then softens, and she reaches out a hand. Steve looks at it and sobs harder.

“Oh, Stevie. My boy, come here,” she says, because maybe he is a goddamn hallucination, but her instinct was always to comfort those in pain. She was a nurse, after all.

Steve is goddamn helpless.

He manages to get to her bedside, chest heaving as he buries his face in her stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he sobs. “It’s me, ma. I promise it’s me. I can explain, I swear.”

“I don’t doubt that you can explain,” Sarah says sternly, and fuck, he’d missed her chastising him. He can’t help it, he laughs, breathless and watery. “What happened to you? Why are you--” Big. Healthy. “Steven, you can’t be in here. I’m highly contagious.”

Steve shakes his head. “Don’t matter. I can’t get sick.” And oh, his accent is back. He hasn’t had one in years. Decades. A goddamn century.

Sarah lets out a strangled laugh that quickly turns into coughing, and Steve briefly wonders how close she is to death. She died in Winter, and it is sometime in Fall right now. Close then, he thinks. He hugs her harder as the coughing dies down.

“A stór, do you hear yourself? You had pneumonia last Summer.”

Summer. Last Summer. In this world, it had only been a mere few months without her. A fresh wave of grief washes over Steve, and then he can’t help another laugh, then another, and suddenly he’s cracking up into her stomach. Laughing like the insane man he feels he often is.

Sarah freezes, then reaches out to lift his face, their eyes meeting. His laughing stops. She gasps again.

“It really is you,” she murmurs, thumbs moving to the outside corners of his eyes, where there are two identical freckles. Little stars, she used to call them.

Steve offers her a brave smile. “Yeah, ma. It is.”

Sarah shakes her head. “What happened?” she asks again.

“I… so much,” Steve breathes. “I don’t know how to explain it all. I-- I don’t know where to start, but god, I just wanted to see you. I needed to see you.”

Sarah studies his face. “You’re so tired,” she says, thumb stroking his eye again. He leans into the touch, closing his eyes. His lip trembles.

“So tired,” he agrees.

“You don’t need to tell me everything,” Sarah says. “I’m not sure I want to know. But I just… Steven, you look so different.”

Steve laughs, wiping at his eyes. “In a few years, there’s a war,” he says. Blunt-- they’d always been so straightforward with each other. “A scientist-- god, please don’t be mad-- a scientist offered, or… offers? Offered me an opportunity, and I took it.”

“Of course you did,” Sarah murmurs, looking fond and angry despite. She seems to set that train of thought aside. “Germany?” and oh, right. It’s already been in the news, the new reign.

“Yeah.”

Sarah hums. “My dear, you look like you’ve seen more than just war.”

Just war. As if any war was just anything.

As if his war ever truly stopped.

He casts his gaze down.

“Yeah,” he says again, and he thinks of Bucky, who’s also yet to come home from the war. Bucky, who is probably somewhere at the docks right now, untouched by anything but insecurity and financial hell. He desperately wishes they both can soon. This visit, he hopes, will bring him one step closer.

Sarah must read his mind, because her face clouds over.

“Bucky…?”

“Survives,” Steve says quickly, then backtracks. “Kind of. We both kind of died, then came back to life in the future and--” Sarah looks horrified now, and Steve shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. He’s alive. We’re together.”

“Alright,” Sarah says slowly. “As long as you’re together.”

Steve nods, and fuck, he wishes he could have brought Bucky, too. Sam as well-- showed his ma his new friends. The brave new family he’s made for himself. The thought has his eyes swimming again, and he screws up his face, trying not to cry. He’s a goddamn mess. It’s ridiculous.

“I must admit, I’m quite confused,” Sarah says. “And sweetheart, you’re not talking.”

Steve shakes his head, and her arms come around him. He melts into the hold-- savors the feeling. Memorizes the pressure, her smell, and pockets it away for later.

“I just missed you so much is all,” he croaks. “And I-- ma… I’ve done so much. I’ve hurt so many people. Killed so many people, and I still feel so lost, and everything hurts and oh Christ, I’ve just-- I miss you.”

He had sworn to himself, before coming in, that he wouldn’t unload any of this onto her. But her warmth is all encompassing, and he craves her comfort. Her approval. Her strong, sure tone telling him everything will be okay.

That he will be okay. He has to be. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he’s not.

“Lord’s name,” Sarah murmurs, and Steve huffs another laugh. She runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what happened to you. I don’t know how any of this is possible, but I do know you, dearheart. And I know that you are a good person. A gentle person-- my gentle boy, if you’d had a choice, you wouldn’t have chosen violence. But you know more than anyone how mean the world can be. You might have had to make hard decisions, done bad things, but you, Steven, are not bad.”

Steve’s lips part. It doesn’t fix everything, the words-- it barely scrapes the surface of the wall of pain and guilt that suffocates him. But for a moment, the world seems clearer. Quieter. The ache in his chest lanced for one, freeing breath.

“Ma…” Steve says. He doesn’t know how to thank her-- what to say-- because here she is, offering him warmth and closure, even though she might still think he’s nothing but a figment of her imagination. He craves her compassion; her generosity. Swears to uphold it as best he can.

You always stand up, she once told him. He will still, he thinks. He always will. And he will now.

He’ll go home to his family-- his life-- and goddamn live finally. He’s been surviving for so long, he realizes. It’s about damn time for him to stand up and live.

“You’ve still got the same heart,” Sarah continues. She pokes his freckles again. “I can see it in your eyes.”

Steve lifts a hand to cover hers. Her hands are as soft as they always were and he turns his face to kiss her knuckles, then leans forward to kiss her cheek, eyes closing as memories of doing that before running off to school or to play flash through his mind. She smells faintly of vanilla. He wonders if she still dabs it behind her ears.

“Thank you,” he says. “Thank you, ma. I love you. I love you so much-- thank you for being there for me. For raising me, and loving me.”

Sarah hugs him. Outside the room, there are voices; shuffling. He needs to go. The window is open, and they’re only three floors up.

“Loving you is the easiest thing that I’ve ever done,” Sarah says. She looks at the door. The voices are closer now. She kisses his forehead. Another echo of a life long gone. “Go now, Steven. Go home.”

Steve looks at her one last time, drinking in the love in her eyes. And as he climbs out the window, the too-tight doctor’s coat ripping around the shoulder seams, he can’t help but think that he’d gotten her eyes right whenever he’d painted her.

Her love won’t be something so easily forgotten.

Bucky catches him before he can collapse as he reappears on the launch pad. He lowers them to the ground, cradling Steve’s head with and letting him practically climb into his lap as he weeps, overwhelmed.

After a few minutes, he pulls back. Bucky’s watching him, concerned, and Steve leans in to gently kiss him.

“Steve?” Bucky asks, wary as they pull apart. He reaches out to swipe some tears off Steve’s cheeks.

Steve shakes his head. “It’s fine, I’m fine,” he says. “All the stones are back-- everything’s okay. It’s over. It’s all over.”

Relief washes over Bucky’s face and he kisses Steve, smiling. “Oh god,” he murmurs. “Thank god.”

Steve wraps his arms around his neck, humming in agreement. Sam and Bruce are somewhere-- Steve can hear them talking-- but it’s distant.

They’re quiet for a long time, breathing in each other. Bucky’s arms feel so goddamn safe that Steve feels his resolve slipping again. He can tell Bucky things. He can be here with him now. Home.

“I went to see her,” he whispers.

Bucky stills where he was previously rocking them lightly.

“Her…” Bucky says, then shifts. “Your ma?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh,” Bucky squeezes him tighter. “How-- how was that? How did she…”

“She was confused. I don’t even know if she knew I was real.”

Bucky pauses, then kisses behind his ear. Steve thinks of vanilla again.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky murmurs.

“No, it was-- good. Needed. I feel… good.”

“That’s so good, honey.”

“She asked about you-- wanted to know if you were, um, alive. I told her you were.”

“Yeah?” Bucky asks, and there’s a small smile on his face now. Bucky had loved Sarah as if she were another mother, and Steve had done the same with Winnifred. It was a privilege to have had both of their protective arms. “What did she say?”

“She said, ‘as long as we’re together’.”

Bucky smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. Steve wants to reach out and touch, so he does, because he can do that now. Bucky is tangible. He is here.

“She’s got a point,” Bucky says. He goes back to rocking them and Steve rests his head on his shoulder. He hears Bucky start to say something, then stop.

“What?” he asks, pulling back.

Bucky studies him. “Did you want to stay?” It isn’t accusatory, just curious, and Steve considers it.

“Maybe a little,” he admits. “Just… instinctively. It’s an opportunity I might have taken up if someone offered it ten years ago, but… I’m a ghost there now, like I was a ghost here, and I don’t want to do that again.” He bites his lip, shaking his head. “I can’t. I wouldn’t be able to.”

Bucky nods, cupping Steve’s cheek and thumbing his jaw affectionately. “I hear you,” he says. “I was just wondering.”

“And besides, my ma told me to go home before I left,” Steve said, cupping Bucky’s cheek in return. “So I did.”

Bucky smiles, and presses their foreheads together.

“We can do that now,” Bucky says. “We can go home. We can rest.”

And there are still things to do-- Steve doesn’t think there ever won’t be things to be done. But that can wait for another day.

“Yeah,” he agrees. He’s grungy, dirt digging in bone deep from the whirlwind of the last few weeks. He smirks, climbing off Bucky’s lap. “But I call first shower.”

Bucky snorts and stands, pulling Steve up.

“Yeah, whatever, asshole.”

Yeah. The world can wait another day.

There’s a bottle of vanilla in the spice cabinet. Steve sees it as he’s looking for the cinnamon. The kitchen is empty, but for the first time in years, he knows he’s not alone.

He takes the vanilla out and dabs some onto his fingers, gently rubbing it behind his ears. He closes his eyes, letting the smell wash over him. He can still feel his ma’s arms around him, keeping him warm.

Home. He’s home.

thanks for reading yall aflkdjflaksjdf

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #post endgame #i swore to myself i wouldnt write an endgame fix it but here i am i guess #stucky fic #sarah rogers #my queen #my love #i love her #oop

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miraculouspenta · 3 years

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Different Limits

Original Idea by @jinx-jade

Thanks to @moonlitceleste for beta reading :D

'What have I done,' Damian thought. Dick was lying on the floor with an arm that was clearly broken. He had surprised Damian with a hug from behind, triggering his instinct to attack. Damian had reacted by twisting his arm, resulting with Dick being on the floor. Jason entered the door when he heard Dick’s shriek of pain. "WHAT THE F*CK, DAMIAN!" he shouted when he saw Dick. His whole family had scolded him, Bruce had benched him for a whole two months, and Alfred had given him a disappointed stare.

Damian couldn't stand it. Not anymore.

He snapped.

He had tried, he really had.

But it was never enough.

As the heir to the Demon's Head, attacking at unknown touch has been burned into him. Touch had always meant danger. It was second nature to him now. Unfortunately, his family did not know nor do they understand. Two years of constant reminders that he had done terrible things. Two years of constant reminders that he was merely a killing machine. Two years of greater expectations, both in standard and amount. He had enough.

Damian said goodbye to his pets and ran.

After a good hour of running, he dropped into an alley and cried.

In his vulnerable state, he didn't see a man creep up. A man holding a gun. The unknown adult was planning to kidnap the boy, but as soon as his hands reached Damian, he reacted. He flipped the man over his shoulder like what he did to Dick earlier. But in his state, it didn't affect much. The man pulled out a knife and stabbed him in his side. It ended the fight.

The kidnapper ended up running away, leaving a heavily injured Damian to slowly watch the world as his vision turned black.

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

Marinette, who had just finished some business with Superman, decided to take a walk in Gotham before going home. Along the way, she spotted a boy covered in blood as she crossed an alleyway. He was already unconscious, and Marinette knew she couldn't just leave him there. So she opened a portal and went through it and carried the boy in her hands. She laid him down in her spare room and left to get her medical supplies.

Approximately six hours later, the boy woke up. His eyes scanned the room as he tried to up and leave. Limping, he tried to head to the window. "Hi sweetie, you need to calm down," Marinette’s soft voice said as she walked slowly to the boy., "You should be resting; moving might agitate your injuries." The boy just stared at her. Marinette stood up slowly and walked over. "May I?" she asked, reaching for his hand. When he nodded, she carefully took his hand and led him to the bed. Once there, she helped Damian into a comfortable position. "Do you have anyone you can call?" she questioned. When he didn't answer, she simply nodded her head and asked him what he would like to eat.

Damian ended up staying for three weeks because Marinette refused to let him leave until he was fully healed. The twelve year old grew closer to the woman. Once healed, he confessed that he has nowhere to stay. Marinette took the information in stride and told him he was more than welcome to stay with her. And stay he did.

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

Living with Marinette was incredible. Unlike his grandfather and his father, she didn't place any expectations on him. At one point, he slipped and called her mom. Damian had froze after he said that, scared of how she would react. It ended up with Marinette asking him whether or not he would mind her adopting him. Damian happily agreed and they soon got the paperwork done. (Chloe is conveniently Marinette’s lawyer). Damian wore the Dupain-Cheng name with pride. As Grand Guardian, Marinette took it upon herself to teach Damian magic. Starting with glamour, they covered the basics of magic.

Two weeks after the adoption, while reading the daily news, Damian came across an article on the front page.

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

The Daily Planet

BREAKING NEWS!!

Not more than six weeks ago, twelve year old Damian Wayne was reported missing. The only biological child of Bruce Wayne was suspected to have ran away for an unknown reason. He was last seen running to his room before he left. “Maybe I was a little too harsh,” Bruce Wayne admitted, “But this isn’t the first time I had to ground him because he wasn’t able to control his strength.” The young boy had somehow managed to flip Richard John Grayson, Bruce Wayne’s eldest, when he had surprised him with a hug. “Damian and I may not get along, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care,” Tim Drake, co-CEO of Wayne Enterprises said.

Damian Wayne is a tan boy with dark hair and striking green eyes. He weighs around 90 lbs at 4’9 ft tall. Currently, he is twelve years old. Multiple search parties have been launched. I myself know Damian personally from all the times he has visited my son. If you find the boy, please contact xx-xxx-xxx-xxx and we will get to you as soon as possible.

- Clark Kent

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

After reading, Damian had a breakdown. Marinette rushed in when she heard the sobs of her child. She didn’t say anything and instead she approached slowly wrapping him in her arms. She let him cry as she rubbed his back and once he calmed down, he told her his story and why he left.

“All these new expectations were just overwhelming,” he said, “‘No killing’, ‘justice not vengeance’—it’s like they were expecting me to turn back. I never wanted to hurt them, but it’s something that is a reflex now. It’s not easy to let go of a habit.” Marinette was silent throughout his whole rant. She knew how terrible Ra’s and Talia were but that didn’t make it better. She knew the Batman could be cold, but the fact that he didn’t listen and try to understand infuriated her.

“Ra’s and Talia should know not to mess with me, but if I ever see your father I can and will punch him,” she growled. Damian smiled as he nuzzled into his mother’s chest.

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

Three years passed. Damian and Marinette’s bond grew stronger while the search parties grew hopeless. The Justice League was also involved; so were the Titans and the Young Justice. They concluded that Damian was either dead or hiding really well. The former option was discarded when Zatara and Zatanna had almost managed to track him, but unfortunately the spell suddenly shattered when it was nearing.

Desperate, the batfamily decided to reach out to the Grand Guardian of the Miraculous. Imagine their surprise when they saw Damian on their way to her house. When they ran to him, Damian, now fifteen, went into an alley and disappeared. They rushed to Marinette’s house and knocked. They heard hard breathing and a gentle voice trying to calm the other party down. Leaning towards the door, Dick found that it was unlocked and tumbled in.

What they saw was Damian kneeling on the floor crying in the middle of a breakdown and Marinette trying to soothe him. “Out,” Marinette glared. The boys obeyed and waited anxiously. The person that they had been searching for was under the protection of the Guardian all this time. It made sense why even both Zatara and Zatanna couldn’t track him down.

An hour later, Marinette opened the door telling them to come in and wait. She took some water and placed them on her coffee table saying that Damian was taking a shower. As soon as she sat down the boys began to fire questions. They stopped after a good fifteen minutes and noticing that Marinette wasn’t saying anything. “I know why Damian ran away, yes, but it is not my place to say. I can ask him later, and I will not say anything without his permission. But I will say this,” Marinette said, voice colder than ice, “You f*cked up.” Marinette stood up to check on Damian. “By the way,” she stopped for a moment, “I adopted him three years ago.”

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

Damian ended up being the one to tell them everything. Everything from why he ran away to why he decided to stay. The Waynes felt bad; they hadn’t even bothered thinking about his perspective. Looking back, Jason and Bruce realized what Damian had said about the League was true. “I’m- We’re sorry Damian,” Dick apologized. “Are you willing to come back?”

“No,” he said. The Waynes were visibly saddened.

“But I am willing to start over.”

1445 words

I had tons of fun writing this fic, hope you guys like it

~Leen

@animegirlweeb @battybatbat @crystalangelluna @dorkus-minimus @galaxylightmoon @iglowinggemma28 @insane-fangirl-of-everything @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @karukofox21 @lunathealphafemale @megaafangirl @miraculouslydumb @myazael @nickristus-dreamer @our-preciousss @samiamack @sh31bin0 @user00000003 @waffleyunsure

#maribat #mominette

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babymetaldoll · 3 years

Text

Danger Days - Chapter fourteen: "Love, hate, love"

Word count: 8,8K

Summary: The band is decided to take care of Joey, and for once, she is ok with that. Gerard is trying to find a way to get closer to her while Matthew... gets drunk again.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, cursing, cheating, angst, a lot of crying.

A/N: I want a friend like Mikey in my life. Do you guys think Joey will forgive Matthew? Would you do it? also, I love how honest Frank is with Joey. Gerard really hates him at this point hehehe.

Not my gif, and all this shit is fiction.

Masterlist

::: Valencia, March 11th, 2011 :::

Joey's eyes were wide opened as she laid on her bed. She hadn't slept at all. Mikey was snoring next to her. He had stayed over to take care of her after everybody left. But he fell asleep, and the girl stayed up the whole night, not able to move or to do anything but to stare at the heart locket on her bedside table. It felt like bullshit to her now. What seemed to be so romantic was now nothing but a pile of lies.

Memories kept coming to her head. All of the times together with Matthew, their whole happiness. All the days they spent working on the house he had bought for them, and all the nights they sat in their new back yard to look at the stars, drink some wine and sleep in an inflatable mattress they had put in their bedroom. But what she remembered the most was the day they met. The day their whole story together had started, and how now Joey wished to go back in time and change it all. Ignore him, never talking to him, not even being in that studio that day. Anything that might keep her from the pain she was feeling now.

She had reached the studio early that morning. She had a meeting with a band at ten to record a demo. They needed a studio drummer, and Billy, the producer, contacted her. She had learned the songs; there were just three on the setlist. That shouldn't take more than three days in the whole process, including production.

Joey went through her warm-up and stretching before Billy walked in with two cups of coffee.

- "Thank you."

- "You are gonna need it,"- he said and cut her a short smile- "As far as I can tell, these guys are hyper"- the girl smiled and nodded.

- "Noted, hyper kids."

The drummer already had a lot of practice recording with random bands and some pretty known bands too. Yet, she wasn't ready for the tornado of energy that was about to go through the door that day.

The band was pretty funny and easy-going. Their music wasn't really in Joey's favorite playlist, but she was professional enough to give her best no matter what. Their friend, though, that guy was driving her insane. This very tall thin guy with light brown hair kept jumping with every song they played. He was sugar rushed or in coke. There was no way anyone would be that energetic on his own. And he had an opinion for every part of every song. Their friends loved him, it was clear, that's why they brought him along, but Joey was trying to do her work.

- "Hey,"- he said to her at the end of the session. He hadn't talked to her in the whole day- "That was pretty cool what you did back there."

- "Thanks"- she simply answered and looked for her backpack.

- "I mean, you played amazing, but the way you managed not to kill me through the whole day, though it was clear I was driving you insane, that was outstanding"- and the girl chuckled, she hated it 'cos she didn't want to, but that had been funny indeed.

- "It took a lot of will and mental strength, I must confess, you were pretty annoying,"- she answered with a snarky smile.

- "I'm sorry in advance for the next three or four days then"- the girl sighed and nodded.

- "Thanks, I guess."

- "Hey, can I try to make it up to you?"

- "By not to eat anything with sugar or take any coffee before coming tomorrow? Because that would be awesome"- and Matthew laughed. An honest big, and sincere laugher.

- "No, I was going to ask you if you wanted to get a coffee now with me..."

- "How much coffee do you have during the day?"- the drummer asked, raising an eyebrow.

- "A lot"- he simply answered- "So, what do you say? I promise I won't be annoying, or at least just the decent amount of annoying to be tolerable."

Joey didn't know what to reply. It had been ages since anyone had asked her out, and that guy was breathtakingly hot. Was it a prank? Why would he want to go out with her?

- "How are you planning not to be annoying?"- she asked and narrowed her eyes.

- "You can pinch me every time I get annoying,"- Gubler grinned, looking pretty excited to go out with her- "I know you want to pinch me."

Joey smiled and kept her eyes on his. He gave her the most adorable puppy eyes, and not even thinking about it, she accepted.

And that was the first of a thousand coffees they shared in almost a year together. They had even talked about getting married around the same date they had started dating. But now, none of that mattered anymore.

- "Mother fucker"- she whispered and slowly got out of bed. Mikey was still asleep. She wondered around the room, not knowing what to do. She went through all the things the guys had left upon a dresser: chocolate bars, filled chocolate, M&M, fun-size Snickers, all of her favorites candies. Frank's whiskey bottle, even a Pride and Prejudice Bluray.

- "You guys are awesome,"- she whispered and grabbed a bunch of candy. She looked through her things as she ate. It felt nothing was hers anymore. It felt that wasn't her life or her clothing. Not even her mind. She was out of herself. Her phone was nowhere to be seen. Probably Mikey had it hidden, just like she had done for him when he broke up with his wife. Now the tables had turned. And it felt weird. Wrong. Bad.

Joey had a knot in her stomach as she kept eating Snicker after Snicker. Still, she couldn't stop. She didn't want to stop. She found Matthew's shirts among her clothes, and her body shivered at the smell of his perfume still in the fabric. She could almost see his face, hear his voice, feel his hands on her skin. The same hands that had cheated.

Tears started falling right away. Still, she couldn't stop smelling the shirt. She couldn't stop thinking about him, about his face, his kisses, everything. But yet, she was so mad, so sad, so confused. Her stomach started aching, and the girl started retching. She ran to the bathroom and puked the few candies she had eaten. That was all that was left in her stomach.

- "Bug, hey..."- Mikey appeared running and kneeled next to her.

- "I'm ok, I just... I'm still..."- the girl sighed and wiped off the tears from her face, flushing. Mikey reached the mouthwash for her- "Thank you"- Joey clumsy stood up and spat in the sink.

- "Did you get any sleep?"

- "Not really"- the honesty of her answer surprised him. He was ready to deal with a girl in denial of her state. Instead, somehow, she just answered the truth. He decided to take another shot.

- "Are you hungry?"

- "Of course not. I just puked."

- "What do you wanna do today?"

- "Stay in here, in my pajamas, and watch shitty tv. How is your schedule for today? What do you have to do?"

- "Stay here in my pajama watching shitty tv with you,"- she cut him a sweet smile as she crawled into bed again.

- "You don't have to do that, Mikey. You have to work."

- "I know I don't have to, I want to do it for you"- he made a pause, grabbed the phone, and called room service.

- "Thank you,"- she whispered and heard him asking for two breakfasts.

- "Besides,"- Mikey added, after hanging up and getting into bed with her- "It's not like I have to show up and answer questions I've answered a million times before. That's why Gerard's the lead singer. He loves the attention."

Joey smiled and hugged Mikey, resting her head on his chest as he surfed channels.

- "Yeah, he is a little diva sometimes."

- "A little? Sometimes?"- Mikey chuckled- "Oh Bug, you have no idea..."

Gerard was walking on his own after the first interview. He asked for a few minutes to get something, and Worm came along to make sure he made it alive.

- "Dude, help, what can I give Joey?"

- "Is her birthday again or something?"

- "No, she broke up with Gubler, and I need something that might cheer her up."

- "Fuck! How is she?"

- "Locked in her room... what can I give her?"

- "Chocolates."- Worm answered right away.

- "Mikey got her a million of her favorites."

- "Booze."

- "Frank got her favorite whiskey."

- "Shit... movies to kill time?"- the man looked at Gerard and nodded- "So Ray got her movies?"

- "They had like a "break up kit" in their fucking bags or something. They know what to do, what to say to her, how to comfort her. And I ended up looking at her from a distance like... awkward and out of place."- Gerard was opening himself up at his friend.

- "Well, think of something that might help her use her time and mind to refocus her into something other than the breakup. Maybe a book"- Gerard nodded and kept looking at the window glazes. Instinctively he stood outside a stationery shop. He thought about it as he looked inside. To draw was an excellent way to kill time. Would she like that?

- "Why not?"- he said and walked in. After a few minutes, he stepped out with not two but three bags filled with art supplies.

- "Did you leave anything left in the store?"- Frank asked when he saw his friend carrying so many notebooks and pencils, you could think he was starting a store of his own. The two of them, plus Ray, got into the van to go to their following interview.

- "Funny. I just got Joey a few things to help her think of something else."

- "Cool man, good idea"- Ray smiled and took a look inside- "I just checked with Mikey. They were watching a movie."

- "How is she?"- Gerard asked as the van traveled through Valencia.

- "She didn't sleep, she hasn't eaten, Mikey was fighting to get her to eat some cereal... she was crying and puking when he woke up."

Gerard's heart ached in his chest as he heard Ray's words. He needed to find a way to make her feel better. But how? How if he never got to talk to her?

- "Any news from the asshole?"- Gerard asked, and Frank nodded.

- "Mikey has her phone off, so no one knows anything about him."

- "Do you think he is gonna show up?"- the singer asked, and both Ray and Frank looked at each other.

- "I think so,"- Toro said- "He is in love with her after all."

- "After all?"- Iero turned to him and frowned- "The fucker broke her heart! I don't want him near my little Bug in a thousand years."

Gerard wanted to hit Frank after calling her "his little Bug."

- "What the fuck is his problem? She ain't his. She is mine."

- "Frank, we are her friends, and we have to support her, but if she ever decides to get back with him again, even when we both know that's nearly impossible, we have to respect her. Ok?"- Ray was very rational about it, mostly 'cos he had lived it with other friends before- "So if he gets here, we can't do anything."

- "What do you mean "we can't do anything"?"- Frank frowned right away, frustrated- "I'm not gonna let that asshole near her."

- "Me neither, man"- Gerard adds- "And I can't believe you are saying this amount of shit after how she was yesterday."

- "It's called experience, Gerard. So remember, this whole shit ain't about how mad we are with Gubler, but about how much we want our friend to be happy, no matter what!"

Ray used his "dad" voice, and his friends couldn't argue with that. That was Raymond Toro's superpower: Super Dad.

Matthew looked at his mom and sighed. He still had three more days of shooting, and he was about to quit. Gubler barely had the strength to get out of bed that morning. He hadn't eaten. He looked like shit. He didn't want to be in the movie anymore. He gave a fuck about everything. So his mother came along to work with him and sat closely, reading a book, trying to comfort him in any way. Yes, that's how much Matthew loved his mother. And he cared shit if anyone made fun of him.

- "I can't do this, mom,"- he said as he walked to her by the end of a scene, he had some time to wait for things to be ready at the following location- "I mean, what the fuck am I doing here? I have to go to her! I have to tell her that I'm sorry"- he grabbed his phone and dialed- "Still off... Yami, please listen to me. I need to talk to you. This can't be it. I need you to listen to me."

- "Voicemail full"- a computer voice warned and finished the call.

- "Shit! Shit! Shit!"- the young man hit the wall next to him a couple of times as his face turned red in anger and desperation.

- "Matthew, please calm down, you are gonna go, but you need to be calm when you meet her. You have to put yourself together first. What are you going to tell her? How are you going to approach her?"- he sighed and walked around in front of his mother.

- "I just need to talk to her now!"- he whispered, pouting. He had never needed anyone as much as he needed Joey at that moment.

- "She has to make her process too. If you run to her now, you are both going to be still hyperventilated with what happened, you are going to be irrational, you know you will, and she is going to be still so hurt and mad she won't think straight"- Matthew sighed and looked at the ground- "Let the things cool down for a few days."

- "I still need to talk to her. I have to call her."

- "Just make sure you don't sound like a madman when you get to talk to her, ok?"

- "Do I sound like a madman now?"- his mother smiled at held his chin for a second

- "As I had never heard you before... you are in love, baby, it's ok to be a madman... just... try to keep a mind straight when it comes to talking to her, don't scare her away."

Matthew nodded and sighed. His mother's words made sense, but how to calm himself down when he felt he was dying inside? He grabbed his phone and dialed. Still off.

- "Can you come over tonight?"- he wrote and sent the text to Paget, his best friend.

- "Sure, is everything ok?"

- "Tell you tonight."

The band reached Joey's room at lunchtime. They brought pizza and beer, but she didn't want either. They talked to her about their day, the interviews, and Gerard gave her his present. That was the one thing Joey was excited about. She loved drawing and coloring, though she sucked at it.

- "Thank you, Gerard!"- she said and cut him a shy smile- "I wanted to get some of these things for a while and never did"- and the singer smiled proudly. He had finally done one thing right.

- "Hey, if you want, I can teach you a few things so you can start your comic,"- he said and sat next to her.

- "Thanks..."- she nodded but didn't look into the idea. Gerard was probably pushing too hard. But he had gotten so excited with her reaction he thought it was the solution to the whole situation. Nothing was farther from the truth.

- "Come on, Bug, we brought your favorite pizza,"- Frank said and sat next to her- "It has all the bacon in Spain."

- "I'm not hungry,"- she whispered and didn't take her eyes from the art supplies.

- "You've barely eaten,"- Mikey said and held her hand, looking at her so worried, it made Joey feel guilty for having her friend like that. It wasn't fair.

- "Bróðir, I am ok. I ate that cereal you gave me."

- "You threw it up twenty minutes later"- she closed her eyes and sighed- "Do you always throw up when you are upset?"- and she nodded. She didn't want to say a word about it. When Joey was a kid, she had many anxiety problems; she always threw up when she felt stressed. It was the way her body worked to cope with whatever it was that she was feeling.

- "Just a slice, I don't care if you vomit it,"- Frank insisted. She held it and took the tiniest bite possible in a poor attempt to make her friend happy. He just kept looking at her, forcing her to take another bite.

- "Do you have to go to work after lunch?"- she whispered and looked at her fingers playing with the bacon on her pizza.

- "Yeah, Bug. Mikey should probably go shower, but I'm gonna stay with you."

- "I'm not a baby, Ray"- the girl frowned- "I can be alone."

- "I know you can, I just feel like staying here, watch a bunch of movies... maybe sleep a little, I don't wanna go to work,"- Ray simply replied.

- "Guys, I know you are being too cute and adorable right now, and from the bottom of my heart, I am forever grateful for it, but I can stay alone. Nothing is gonna happen."

Mikey moved closer to Joey in the bed and wrapped an arm around her.

- "Sure, you are gonna be ok, but right now, we just wanna be with you... just today, ok? Tomorrow you are on your own,"- she turned and raised an eyebrow at him- "I promise."

- "Fine..."

- "Now eat"- he commanded and moved her pizza closer to her.

- "When are you going to give me my phone back?"- she asked after a while.

- "Tomorrow"- Mikey simply replied.

- "What's the plan for tomorrow, by the way?"- Joey asked and looked at her friends- "Do we have to be at the festival the whole day?"

- "No, but we have to be there early,"- Gerard said and chewed his food- "We have to do some press there, and you should come along."

- "I'm good, thanks."

- "No, really, it was great when we did that radio with you, and you've been great all along this tour, so... it would be great if you were there with us... how many times did I just say "great"?"- Joey smiled at Gerard and looked back at her pizza.

- "Like a million times, dude,"- Frank answered- "Hey, where's the veggie pizza?"

It was very heartwarming and, at the very same time, very overwhelming for Joey to feel that amount of love from her friends. She didn't see it coming. That afternoon, she and Ray watched Pride and Prejudice together, and she even allowed herself to share a few tears during those 90 minutes. Ray pretended he never noticed, and that made her happy.

She picked a bunch of other chick flicks she liked, and her friend watched them all, sleeping a little bit from time to time. Joey wasn't able to close an eye. Every time she took her mind off the movie, she thought of Matthew and started crying again.

By the time the rest of the band arrived again, with more booze, more food, and a whole bag of candies, Ray had watched Clueless, 10 things I hate about you and Ever After. He was pretty surprised to know Joey could recite from memory most of the dialogues in those movies. He never thought she could be so... girly.

- "Hey Bug!"- Mikey practically ran to her- "What are you doing?"

- "Coloring this mandala book Gerard got me"- it felt like she was a little kid and Ray was her nanny- "I don't know why people say this is relaxing; I find it pretty stressful"- Mikey looked at it and smiled.

- "Looks pretty cool to me."

- "Let me see"- Gerard said and walked to her, sitting for the very first time, next to her- "Yeah, that looks stressful"- he whispered, and she smiled- "But there was another coloring book in the bag."

- "I feel like I'm five years old,"- she whispered and looked at the singer in the eyes. He cut her a big smile and grabbed a notebook from his bag.

- "I stopped to buy ten comic books today, so that would make two of us."

- "What did you get?"- that conversation kept going. Gerard couldn't believe it.

- "I saw a few X-Men issues in Spanish, and I thought it would be a nice addition to my collection."

- "Nice..."- Frank moved closer and messed with the girl's hair.

- "I brought you a Dr. Pepper,"- he whispered and kissed her cheek.

- "Thank you, Jersey."

- "I also got you fries"- he smiled and raised an eyebrow- "You can't say no to fries..."- and damn it, Frank was right- "Cheesy fries"- he added with a low sexy voice.

- "I hate you, Frank."

- "It's time for you to face it, Iceland, you love me, you can't live without my pretty face making you laugh"- he teased her and chuckled. She kept her eyes in his and cut him a short smile.

- "Fuck you, Jersey"- she whispered but smiled and snuggled closer to him- "I love you. You are a psycho brother with the ability to make me want to punch you."

- "You are that hot second cousin I would nail,"- Frank answered with a chuckle and a low voice. Joey giggled and hit him simultaneously. Gerard froze, thinking there was no way Iero could be so honest with her about his thoughts, not making her mad.

- "Shut up. Why do you always ruin every single moment we've got together?"

- "'Cos... you laugh when I do, and I love to hear you laugh"- the girl chuckled and blushed.

- "Just give me the damn fries."

Gerard looked at his friend in shock. He had flirted, and she smiled. What the fuck was that? It was so clear everybody was closer to her than him... and she told him she loved him.

- "Damn it! You are not going anywhere tonight until you get fucking closer to this girl."

Around midnight, Ray and Frank stood up. Joey was still laid on her bed, wide awake, watching Lethal Weapon with Mikey.

- "Kids, you should go to bed"- Ray announced and put on his shoes- "We've got a big day tomorrow, and you should all rest, especially you, Bug. The dark rings under your eyes will not be covered with makeup, and we will be on tv tomorrow."

- "I'll sleep, I promise"- she whispered and nodded.

- "Are you going to be ok with these two?"- Frank asked after kissing the top of her head.

- "These two are leaving soon, so I'll be ok"- she made a pause and held Frank's hand- "Thank you, Jersey."

- "There is nothing to thank, Iceland. You are my friend, and I'll protect you no matter what."

- "Yeah... what you did yesterday when you yelled at... at him"- Joey couldn't even really say his name- "Well... thank you-" he smiled and winked.

- "Anytime"

- "I love you, dad,"- the girl said as Ray walked over. She wrapped her arms around him and felt him kiss her forehead.

- "Please, try to sleep."

- "I will ... and thank you for watching chick flicks with me."

- "Anytime you want."

- "Really? You won't get sick of the clichés?"- she smiled and wrinkled her nose.

- "No, maybe next time I'll pick a couple when we are on the bus."

- "Dad, it's a date."

- "Sleep tight."

Joey nodded and watched her friends walking out. Mikey kept his eyes on the tv as he ate a bag of M&Ms. Gerard was sitting at the other side of the bed, drawing in silence. The girl sighed and watched tv for a while, but her mind was somewhere else.

- "You should take a bath,"- Gerard whispered suddenly- "If you are going to try to sleep, maybe a hot shower can help you."

- "I thought I smelled so bad you were gonna force me"- Joey answered, not even looking at him.

- "Joey, I've lived with you for a lot of months so far, and I've been locked with you after playing shows covered in sweat"- Gee made a pause and smiled- "You've never smelled bad"- she rolled her eyes, but a slight smile appeared on her lips.

- "You've never been close enough to smell me."

- "She is right, she gets nasty"- and Mikey got smacked by a pillow after those words.

- "Fine, I'll shower..."- but before moving an inch, the girl looked at her friend and asked- "Can you give me my phone back?"

- "Tomorrow."

- "I want to call my parents"- Mikey took his phone from his pocket and gave it to her.

- "Use mine"- she huffed and dialed.

Gerard watched her walk around the room, speaking half in Spanish, half in English with her mother, and then half in Icelandic, half in English with her dad. It was a funny scene to see; he had never seen it. He had never seen a lot of her habits, and yet he had fallen in love with her. Why? How?

- "Dude, I'm talking to you"- Mikey said and threw him an empty bag of candy.

- "Sorry, what?"

- "Can you stay with her for a while? I have to go to my room and take the biggest dump on earth"- Gerard frowned, disgusted, and nodded.

- "Using the bathroom would have been enough, dude."

- "No, it wouldn't, you need to know the disgusting details of my organism..."- Mikey started gathering his things, and Joey frowned as she watched him.

- "Where are you going?"

- "To take a shit"

- "Please don't use my bathroom. You are gross. It's like there's a corpse coming out of you every time"- Joey simply says, and Gerard burst out laughing.

- "Best description ever!"

- "Here's your phone, bróðir."

- "Thank you, Bug"- he grabbed it, put on his shoes, his backpack, and hugged his friend tight- "I love you."

- "I know. I love you too."

- "I'll leave you with Gerard. Are you gonna be ok?"

- "I'll be fine,"- his older brother answered and never took his eyes from the paper, scared of looking at Joey under the circumstances. He was finally going to be alone with her. What was going to happen?

- "I was talking to her, dumbass"- Gerard flipped the bird to Mikey as Joey stayed hugged to his younger brother. He wished she could hug him like that one day. That night maybe...

- "You are the best brother on earth"- she whispered- "Now please go to your room and sleep."

- "Eat some chocolates, take a bath and fall asleep, ok?"- Joey nodded, and Mikey left the room.

Suddenly she realized it was just her and Gerard. For the first time in weeks. But her mind didn't have room to think about anything else but the pain she was feeling. She missed Matthew so much; watching Lethal Weapon was the best idea at the moment.

Gerard kept drawing in silence, and Joey watched the movie until it was over. She ate a few more Snickers and went through the pages of one of the mandala coloring books Gerard had given her.

- "Are you going to take that bath?"- he asked her. But she didn't answer. She had spaced out, staring at her hands in front of her- "Joey? Are you ok?"

- "Yes,"- she murmured and took a deep breath- "Yeah, I'm gonna shower."

- "Do you need me to run the shower for you?"- the singer asked, standing up, but the girl excused herself, moved out of the bed quickly, grabbed a clean pajama from her bag, and locked herself in the room.

Gee looked around and sighed. He knew she wasn't ok at all, so he cleaned the room a little, threw all of the empty bags of chocolates into the paper bin, called room service to take their dinner dishes away, and made the bed.

- "Hey babe"- he whispered as Lynz picked up the phone- "How are you?"

- "Good baby, you?"

- "So fucking tired"- he might have exaggerated that a little bit- "We had an eternal day today, doing a lot of press for the festival tomorrow."

- "My sweet baby, are you in the hotel?"

- "Yeah, already in bed "In Joey's bed, asshole."

- "And how's everybody?"

- "We are all exhausted. It's been forever since we've been home."

- "I know, honey, I miss you so."

- "I miss you more, baby."

Joey sat under the hot water of the shower, crying her eyes out. She held those tears for so long that day. She needed to get them out of her system when no one could see or hear her. Under the shower was good, with water running down her whole aching body.

She felt so much pain inside it seemed to be endless. She was never going to overcome it. Joey knew it. She actually thought she could die of sorrow. And her friends had been so nice to her. She felt she had to be better, so they were calmer. She didn't want to make them sick worry about her.

- "You to put out a show from the next day and start acting like you are getting over this whole deal"- she whispered to herself and whipped off her tears- "They deserve better than a broken drummer. You have to be professional, you are here to work, and you have to fucking do your best work."

But still, she looked at the ring that was still on her finger, and the tears came back. She didn't want to take it off. She wanted to hold onto the memory of the days she was happy. But it was so hard. She had been broken-hearted before, but not like that. It had never been like this. It felt like the end of her world, and she was sure she was never going to recover from it. She wouldn't be the same woman that she was before. She just didn't know how much of the old Joey was going to survive.

- "Joey, are you ok in there?"- Gerard asked from the other side of the door- "You've been in the shower for a long while."

- "Yeah, I'm coming out in a minute,"- she answered and cleared her throat- "You can go to your room if you want to, I'm ok."

- "I'm not leaving until you are tucked and asleep into that bed, Joey."

Gerard sighed and closed his eyes. He had brought this to her. She deserved him to be nice to her. Nice, he could do nice. He just had to turn his dick off, and everything was going to be ok.

Easier said than done, clearly.

Joey walked out of the shower in her pajamas, hair already dried, and night cream on her face, 'cos she had done nothing for herself in the whole day, and a part of her needed to feel a little human again.

- "You didn't have to stay,"- the girl said as soon as she saw Gerard sitting on her bed, his back resting on the headboard.

- "I didn't want to leave"- he simply answered and tapped the bed beside him- "Come here... "- she sighed and thought a few months ago she would have been shaking as jelly under those circumstances. Now it seemed Joey couldn't even think of Gerard in any way that wasn't a friend.

She crawled into the bed and looked at what he was doing. He had been working on a sketch for a long while now.

- "What are you doing?"

- "Not much, just trying to ease my mind, I think"- he answered and showed Joey his drawings- "I've been working on characters for the stories I wanna write, so I keep making sketches of random thoughts and ideas I've got for them"- Gerard opened another folder and showed Joey some more of his work- "These I've developed for a long while, but I still don't feel they are ready."

- "How do you know they are ready?"- he hesitated for a second before answering.

- "I guess they never really are. You are constantly changing little things about them with time."

- "Like songs?"

- "Yeah"- the girl looked at the drawings in silence for a few minutes. Gerard looked at her as she stared at each sheet with detention. He analyzed her eyes, her lips, and her cheeks. She was still very pale, black rings under her eyes. But yet, for him, she was gorgeous. He was dying to hold her.

- "They are pretty cool,"- she said and handed them back.

- "Hey, did you ever finish the song you were writing the other day?"

- "The other day, you mean five months ago?"- he nodded, thinking it felt it was just a few weeks ago- "Yeah, I did."

- "Can I hear it?"

- "Sure, one day you'll hear it, not today, dude. Today, I don't want anything"- he nodded and watched her sighing.

- "Another movie?"- and she nodded- "Do you wanna pick it?"

- "No... I don't care what's on the screen as long as I don't think"- Gerard grabbed the remote control as Joey kept playing with the ring on her finger- "Are you going to..."

- "I'm not talking about it,"- she answered right away.

- "Sorry..."- he muted and surfed through the pay-per-view options until he picked up "The Goonies." Joey didn't say a word. That was one of Matthew's favorite movies. But she wanted to watch it. She wanted to feel he was close. She was so mad and so in love that she didn't know what to do.

Gerard put all his art supplies in his bag and cuddled next to Joey. He did it just like Frank had done the night before: like it wasn't a big deal at all. He wrapped an arm around her neck and moved closer. She didn't do anything against that. Instead, she rested her head on his chest and sighed. Gerard felt triumphant. She was in his arms, finally. But Joey had cuddled for one reason only: it was the best position to hide the tears that started falling slowly as the movie began. She remembered clearly the first time Matthew "forced her" to watch "The Goonies." It was a Saturday. It was raining outside. They spent the whole day in bed, watching movies, making love, eating chocolate chip hotcakes, and s'mores. It was the perfect day. Now it was just a hurtful memory.

Meanwhile, back in Los Angeles, Gubler could feel the anger coming from Paget's eyes as he came clean and told her the whole story. They were at his house drinking beer and talking. Mostly Matthew was doing all the talking, while his best friend decided which was the best moment to hit him.

- "You are fucked"- Paget simply said as he kept talking. He stopped and frowned. But nothing came from his mouth- "I can't believe you did that! You are disgusting, Matthew!!"

Paget lost it for a second. She never, in all the years she had known her best friend, ever thought he could do such a thing.

- "I know"

- "I just... why did you do it?"

- "I was drunk!"

- "That's not an excuse!! You've been drunk before! And your cock hadn't ended up in your ex-girlfriend's mouth, so be honest with me and tell me what the fuck happened?"

- "I don't know! When I noticed it wasn't Joey, I stopped it all!"

- "You thought your girlfriend was sucking your cock?"

- "Yes!"

- "And why did you make out with those girls at the dancefloor?! Everybody saw you!"

- "I lost it for a second, 'cos I was scared Joey might cheat!"- Matthew murmured and looked at the floor, so ashamed of his own words.

- "And you did it 'cos you were scared she would?!"- Paget yelled and smacked his head- "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

- "I don't know!"- the boy rubbed his hands against his face feeling the anger filling his whole body- "Don't you think I regret it?! I hate myself! I was stupid!"

- "Yes! You were fucking stupid! Do you know what it takes to get someone to love you the way she does?! Do you know how hard it is to find someone as weird as you?!"

- "I know it's hard! I know it's fucking impossible, and I know I fucked it up! But I need you to help me fix this!"

- "You could start by going to see her and beg for forgiveness!"

- "That's what I want to do, but mom said I have to give her a few days to calm down."

- "She is right, and you have to calm down too."

- "She said I sound like a mad man."

- "Madder than usual, yes"- Paget nodded, still serious- "And where is she now?"

- "Spain, she has a huge festival show tomorrow, it's gonna be televised..."

- "So you get to see her live?"- he nodded- "And after that?"

- "Germany, Denmark, Norway, Sweden, she is only staying one day at those places, she is traveling by bus, so she is going to be stuck with the band all the time. And those guys hate me."

- "Right now, I hate you too."

- "Please stop hating me and help me find a way to get to her 'cos I know they are not gonna let me."

- "They have nothing to do with this whole situation! What are you talking about?"

- "Well, they've always been very protective of her, which used to bother me a lot, until I realized they loved her like a little sister, and she is happy with that 'cos she doesn't have many friends."- Matthew was talking very fast, as the words kept coming nonstop- "Eventually, we got closer, especially with Mikey. He is like her older brother on the road, and he is so fucking nice to her for a moment, I thought he was in love with her. But it turns out he loves her as a sister, which made me happy 'cos it meant she wasn't alone in that tour."

- "To the point, Matthew."- Paget sighed, annoyed.

- "Yeah, sorry. What happened was I called her after our fight, and Frank picked up the phone and told me he is going to kill me if he ever sees me again, and threaten me to beat the shit out of me if I ever try to get near her."

- "What at asshole!"

- "I know!"

- "You completely deserved that!"

- "Paget!!"

- "You would do that for me if someone breaks my heart, so deal with it"- Gubler nodded and for a second, then chuckled.

- "A few months ago, Joey told me the same thing..."- he sighed and stayed in silence- "I miss her so much it hurts."

- "I know"

- "I need to get her back..."- his friend didn't say a word, just rubbed his arm gently and cut him a short smile.

Paget couldn't promise him he was going to get her back 'cos she knew how much it hurt being cheated on, and she had never forgiven a guy for that. And by everything Matthew had told her about Joey so far, she knew she wasn't going to do that either. But she couldn't tell him to give up either. She knew he wasn't going to.

Joey sighed. The movie was over, and she was starting to feel tired. She was afraid to sleep though, she knew she would dream with Matthew Gray, and it hurt to even think about it.

- "Ready to get some rest?"- Gerard whispered. She didn't move- "I know you are awake."

- "Are you a psychic?"- she whispered, and he just smiled.

- "I can see your reflex on the screen"- he caressed her hair softly- "Do you need anything?"

- "No... thanks."

- "Do you want me to stay over tonight?"- Gerard simply asked, making sure it sounded like no big deal, though he could hyperventilate if she ever said yes- "I wouldn't mind."

- "I think I could use some time on my own"- Joey answered and moved on the bed, sitting next to him

- "I get it..."

- "Thank you, though. Thank you for taking care of me today and for bringing me so many things."

- "Hey, don't thank me for it. I'm glad I could make you smile even a little bit"- Gerard murmured and tuck some hair behind Joey's ear softly- "I just want you to be happy. You deserve to be so happy."

She didn't move, mostly 'cos she had spaced out thinking about Matthew again. She didn't seem to have room in her head for any other thought but him.

Gerard saw this as a chance to move a little further. He kept his hand in her hair and moved it slowly down to the backside of her neck. The girl chilled and looked into his eyes. That look, it wasn't a friendly one, and she just noticed it.

- "Joey, you deserve so much better than what he did to you, and if it were for me, I would give you everything, my whole life."

- "Thank you, Gerard"- she whispered and smiled- "You are a good friend."

- "I wasn't saying that as a friend."

Way smiled and moved closer to her, his nose touching hers. She didn't move. She didn't know what to do, actually. She had always thought he was incredibly hot, but she never wanted to cheat on Matthew. But now, that didn't matter anymore.

Gerard moved a few centimeters closer, and his lips touched Joey's. Electricity ran down his back as he kissed her slowly, just to make sure she wasn't going to move away. She didn't. And slowly, she kissed him back.

His hands cupped her face carefully as Gerard increased the kiss, slipping his tongue between her lips. They tasted like chocolate, and they felt warm against his. It was blissful. It was like all the months he had to wait to feel that kiss had been completely worthy. That was the best kiss he had ever given, and his heart was rising so much, he thought it was going to escape from his chest.

Joey wasn't thinking. She wasn't at all. She just went along with the kiss 'cos it felt nice. And it also felt like payback. Like if by kissing Gerard, she was getting sweet revenge for what Matthew had done to her.

Gerard increased the kiss a little more, biting her lower lip and moving her closer to him. He wrapped an arm tight around her and kept a hand playing from her cheek to her neck slowly. Joey was enjoying this, Way was a pretty good kisser, and it was honestly a kiss she had thought about a million times. But it felt empty, like the kind of kiss you give to a random guy when you are drunk at a party. And this wasn't a random guy. This was her colleague, her married colleague.

- "Stop"- she whispered and broke the kiss.

- "What is it?"- she landed her hands on Gerard's chest and pushed him away softly.

- "This is wrong."

- "Why?"- Joey frowned as he held her hands and looked confused.

- "Well, apart from the obvious"- she said and pointed at his wedding right- "I'm at the lowest point of my life, and we work together. I can't afford to lose my job right now, so kissing one of my colleagues seems like a pretty shitty idea to me."

- "Not to me."

- "Gerard... that's your cock talking,"- Joey stood up and looked at him.

- "I've longed to kiss you for a long while"- he confessed following her and standing right in front of her- "And I've got the feeling so did you."

- "That's not the point. This it's wrong."

- "But it felt good, and you know it."

Gerard leaned to her, held her face, and pressed his lips against her, this time in a passionate kiss that made Joey feel weak on her knees. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his neck and felt his hands on her waist, moving her closer. So close that she could feel his erection, rubbing against her body.

- "You should go"- Joey whispered, gasping for air as she moved from his lips.

- "But I wanna stay"- she shook her head immediately.

- "You have to go, Gerard."

- "But, Sugar"- he murmured and rubbed his lips against her. She let him go slowly and looked at him, shaking her head again- "Ok..."- he grabbed his jacket and his shoes and landed a soft kiss on Joey's cheek- "Good night, sugar."

- "Bye, Gerard."

The singer walked out of that room and sighed. That had been the best kiss of his life. But Joey was right; it had been a mistake. However, it was a mistake he wanted to make ever since he first saw her. Still, he had just cheated on his wife. But that was a thought he needed to ignore at the moment. He had kissed the girl he loved. And he was in heaven.

Joey was in hell. She hated herself so much she wanted to die. She brushed her teeth over and over again, tears falling from her eyes. Her head hurt after so many days of crying. She had kissed another guy. And though Matthew had done the same to her, she still felt guilty and dirty. She was so sorry for what she had done; she knew it had been a terrible mistake. She didn't even want to face Gerard after that.

He was so eager for her, he had been holding that kiss for a long time, and he simply confessed it, like it wasn't a big deal. But it was. It meant Matthew had been right all along; Gerard had a thing on her, something that had ended up being a hot kiss. A very hot kiss. And if she hadn't stopped him, it was clear where Gerard wanted to go.

- "He had a boner for Christ Sakes!"- the girl argued, walking back to bed- "A fucking boner!"- she got under the covers, wrapping her arms around her legs, biting her lips so hard she nearly drawn blood.

Kissing someone else while still in love with Matthew didn't feel right. She didn't want to do it again. No matter how hot Gerard was. She missed her boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. How was she ever going to get over him? She knew it was impossible. You don't love someone that much and successfully take him from your heart.

It was a good thing that Mikey had her phone, 'cos she felt the urge to call Matthew at the moment. That would have been stupid, and she knew it. But still, it physically hurt to miss him so much. She needed to talk to him. But Mikey had her phone... he didn't have her computer, though.

She looked for it in her backpack and started it on right away.

- "What the fuck are you doing?"- she asked herself out loud as she stared at the screen- "You can't talk to him... you are going to cave in."

Joey brushed her hands against her face and closed the computer. But after a few minutes, she poured herself a glass of whiskey and opened it again. She had decided to check her mail, and maybe Twitter, nothing related to her boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend.

But her inbox was filled with emails from Matthew. At least twenty. Her stomach tightened as soon as she saw them. She took a sip of whiskey and opened the first one. It was sent the night before, probably after Frank had yelled at him and turned off her phone.

"I'm so sorry Yami, I know I was stupid and drunk, and I'll regret it for the rest of my life. But I need you to know you are the only woman I wanna spend the rest of my life with. I love you so much it hurts to think of a day without even hearing your voice."

Joey was already crying. This wasn't healthy. Why was she doing it? She needed to sleep. She needed to get her mind from Matthew. But the memory of Gerard's kisses was right there hunting her too. She poured herself another whiskey and walked around the room. Maybe she could drink herself to sleep. But, she had a huge gig the next day, and she had to be professional.

- "Fuck! I wanna die..."- she sobbed and opened the next mail.

"I know you don't want to talk to me, and I get it. I just need you to understand how much I love you and that I'm willing to do anything to fix this, anything you want, everything you ask; I'll do it, but please, please don't leave me."

- "I have to stop this..."- she took another sip of her whiskey and whipped off her tears. She walked to the phone and talked to the front desk.

- "Hello, sorry to bother you, but can you please connect me with room 1201? Thank you"- the girl waited in line for what felt like ages until she heard Mikey's half-asleep.

- "Joey, are you ok?"

- "No, I'm not ok. Can you come and sleep with me, please?"

- "I'll be right there"- Joey stayed still, eyes glued on the screen, reading over and over again the last mail she had opened.

Mikey didn't even knock. He still had her key, so he just walked into the room in boxers and shirt, shoeless and with his hair made a huge mess. Mikey didn't say a word either; he just took the computer away from her and closed it, grabbed the glass, drank what was left of her whiskey, and got Joey under the covers of the bed. She was shaking and crying quietly.

- "You are gonna be ok Bug, I swear, please try to get some sleep"- he said and held her tight, spooning her- "I'm right here, I'm going to take care of you, ok?"- she nodded and sighed- "Now close your eyes and sleep, I've got you, ok? I've got you."

Joey sniffed and sobbed a little, feeling how her brother's arms tightened around her.

- "Thank you, Mikey."

- "You did the same for me. I owe you my life at this point. I'm never going to leave you."

Back in Los Angeles, Matthew was drunk, calling and calling Joey without any result. Her phone was off, her voicemail was full. So he continued writing emails. At least he could put his heart out in a way, though he had no idea if she was ever going to read them.

Paget, next to him, tried to stop him. But it was useless. The boy wanted to write and ignored everything else.

- "Matthew, Matthew"- she said and shook her arm- "Buy the fucking plane ticket to see her!"

- "Yes!!"- he kind of shouted and took a paper from his pocket- "This is Yami's tour schedule... the movie ends in two days, I can go take a plane straight from the set... so I have to go to Oslo if I wanna catch her."

- "Nice! Bring souvenirs"- his friend smiled, trying to cheer him up

- "Deal"- the boy grabbed his credit card and booked the first flight he found to Norway- "You know it is our anniversary next 17th, if everything goes right, we could actually celebrate our first year together."

- "Please, Matthew, and I need you to listen to me"- Paget said seriously and looked into her best friend's eyes, making sure he would understand her, though he was wasted- "Please, whatever you do, don't fuck it up! ok?"

- "Yes."

- "'Cos this is going to be the only chance you'll get to talk to her and fix everything. Trust me."

Gubler nodded with widened eyes. He was drunk, tired, and devastated, but still, he got how serious and honest Paget was with him. He knew he wasn't going to get many chances to get Joey back. And maybe that was going to be the only one.

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#mcr #matthew gray gubler #gerard way #mikey way #frank iero #matthew gray gubler x oc #ray toro #three cheers for sweet revenge #babymetaldoll writes

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the-hidden-writer · 3 years

Text

And Into The Fire

Chapter 1: A Phone Call

Summary: Months after the Mitchells saved the world, Linda gets a phone call asking if she's seen two defective Pal MAX bots. Powerful people are after Eric and Deborabot 5000, and it's up to the Mitchells to protect them.

Check reblogs for AO3 link!

A Phone Call

It all started with a phone call.

6 months had passed since the “robot apocalypse”, and the world had fallen back into normality. In fact, since the robot apocalypse was so brief, it was now nothing more than a memory and a conversation topic to use as small talk. Things like “Where were you when the robots took you?” or “What did you do inside the fun pods?”. All in all, life had gone back to normal.

But not for the Mitchells. No, their lives were probably changed for good.

Katie had settled well into college. Now that she finally had her Dad’s approval, she felt free to have as much fun as she wanted without the burden of letting down her family. She regularly sent them updates of her work, and it made her insanely happy when she heard that Dad had made an effort to watch them fully, even if he didn’t quite understand them. That was okay though. It’s the thought that counts.

Back at home, things weren’t the same without Katie. Every time one of them stared too long at the empty chair at the table, it felt like a little stab to the heart. The Mitchells were a team, despite their differences, and one missing member was enough to knock their whole household off-kilter.

But they’d still managed to form a similar routine to their old one, just with one less Mitchell. Just Rick, Linda, Aaron, Monchi… and Eric and Deborahbot 5000.

The addition of the two childlike defective androids to their family was the biggest change of all. Once Pal was defeated and everyone was free, the pair had simply stood and looked confused in the midst of it all. The Mitchells (still high on adrenaline) had turned to leave when Eric called out:

“Mother! Wait!”

When he had the family’s attention, he continued. “Are you… satisfied?”

“Huh?” Rick voiced all of their confusion.

“Are you satisfied?” Eric repeated in the same, dry (but strangely uncertain) tone.

When nobody replied, Deborahbot had attempted to clarify. “Are you satisfied... with our performance?”

It was at that moment that a feeling of dread began brewing in Linda’s gut. She knew little to nothing about robots, and less about computer language, but something about the way the bots were speaking resonated with her. Katie had gone through a stage a few years earlier where she needed validation to stay confident but was too anxious to directly ask for it. She wasn't even sure if robots could have anxiety, but...

The fact that this seemingly unrelated memory had sprung to mind was enough for Linda to make her decision.

“They’re coming with us.” She stated firmly, and that was that. Rick had tried to protest but his argument was weak and, after taking one look at the bots that helped save the world, he couldn’t say no to their wobbly faces.

So Eric and Deborahbot came home with them and unofficially joined the Mitchell family. Luckily for the Mitchells themselves, the bots’ shenanigans were enough to help fill in the void left by Katie. The family had found their routine, they weren’t being hounded by the press anymore, and they’d found their new normal.

And then one ordinary day, the house phone rang.

Before Linda (the only human in the house at that moment) had time to react, two identical shouts of “Unknown number!” came in from the living room.

Eric and Deborahbot announcing the caller had been endearing at first. Each time any phone rang, they would happily shout the caller’s name straight away.

However after a few months of it, as much as Linda hated to admit it, it had gotten old and more than a little annoying. But the boys couldn’t help it and it brought them pleasure, so Linda had decided to let it slide for the time being.

Then when the phone rang after a particularly exhausting day and the bots had called out the name of a work colleague, Rick snapped. He yelled at the bots in what Linda thought was a very harsh way- so harsh that she was certain that they would be crying if they could display human emotions.

Rick had felt extremely guilty later that night and apologised (due to Linda’s nagging) in the morning. The bots immediately forgave him, but Linda noticed during the following week they would fall silent whenever Rick passed them or when the phone rang. To try and make up for it, she promised them that they could shout the caller’s name whenever Rick wasn’t home. They’d hugged her when she said that, and Linda felt like she’d done something right. It was a nice feeling.

“Mother! The phone is ringing!” Deborahbot called, snapping Linda back to the present. She’d been lost in her memories for a moment, so she quickly ran to answer the house phone.

(The bots weren’t allowed to answer the phone for obvious reasons.)

“Hello?” She answered, smiling when she noticed Eric and Deborahbot peeking their heads around the door to watch her.

“Hi, uh, is this the Mitchells?”

The voice on the other end was familiar, but Linda couldn’t quite put a name to it. Was it a parent from one of her school’s kids? No, because then why would they have her house number. Then who?

“Yes, this is Linda Mitchell. Sorry, who is this?”

“Uh, hey, it’s Mark Bowman.” So that’s where she recognised the voice. It belonged to the man whose face had been plastered all over the news and had narrowly avoided jail time for causing the robot apocalypse.

“What can I do for you, Dr Bowman?” She asked, trying not to let the sneer into her voice. She also tried not to notice the way Eric and Deborahbot visibly stiffened (an accomplishment for them) at the sound of the name.

“Right, um,” the man sounded oddly hesitant, “as you probably know, I’ve been going through a lot of official checks, to prove that the robots no longer pose a threat and stuff.”

His hesitance made sense then. He was probably being held at gunpoint by the CIA.

“Mhmm.” Linda nodded while simultaneously using her free hand to shoo her boys away. She didn’t know whether they could listen in to phone calls or not, but her instincts were telling her that they would not want to listen to whatever their creator was about to say.

“Well one of those checks includes making sure that all the Pal Max bots are permanently offline, you get what I’m saying?”

Linda wishes she didn’t. “Yeah.”

“Let’s just say that one took a while. Each bot has a unique serial number and was designed to send out a notification to Pal Labs if they got completely broken. And since there are like, millions of these things it took ages to sort them out, haha.”

“Understandable.” Said Linda pleasantly, although her motherly instincts were firing off the charts.

“So, uh, long story short there are two of these Pal MAX bots still missing. The rest have all been accounted for from these distress signals, but these ones seemed to have disconnected from Pal servers before the mass shutdown. Since they’re still online I’m guessing they’re defective.”

Linda felt a sudden, impulsive urge to kill Mark Bowman. This was not a first-time occurrence.

“So this is basically a super long way of asking if you’ve seen any rogue Pal MAX bots still online anywhere? Maybe back when you were saving the world?”

She had to resist the urge to hang up right then and there. Instead, she put on her sweetest teacher voice. There was truly no better way to mask her emotions.

“Hmm, no, sorry I don’t think we did.” She paused. “Even if we did, if the robots are defective then surely they can’t be that dangerous?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Bowman exclaimed suddenly before clearing his throat and composing himself. “But uh… these people wanna be thorough. Can’t risk another apocalypse, y’know?”

Linda was about to respond when she heard a strange beeping sound on the other end, accompanied by shuffling.

“Uh, thanks Mrs Mitchell sorry again about the apocalypse bye-”

She’d been hung up on before she had time to react to Dr Bowman’s words.

On the inside, she was glad that he hadn’t pressed further about the missing defective robots. She’d been half-expecting him to already know their whereabouts and for there to be a confrontation.

But there hadn’t, and he’d hung up, and something about the whole thing seemed off.

She began to formulate a plan in her mind. Firstly, her robo-boys’ safety was the top priority of the situation. Once Rick came home she could tell him about the phone call and they could think of protection methods more clearly.

All she knew for certain for the time being was that the bots wouldn’t be leaving the house for a while.

~-.-~

*Beep* *Beep* *Beep*

If the beeping wasn’t startling enough, the aggressive hand signals the agents were sending him caused him to panic.

He decided to hang up quickly. “Uh, thanks Mrs Mitchell sorry again about the apocalypse bye!” It probably sounded rude, but he really couldn’t care at this point.

“So…” he nervously began, looking up from the phone screen but not wanting to make eye contact with any of the agents. “Did you find anything?”

“The call was intercepted by two separate individuals.” One of the younger agents seated at a computer piped up.

Mark gulped.

“It seems as though we were right, Dr Bowman.” Said Agent Ward, the CIA woman who had first initiated the search for the missing Pal MAX bots. “They’re targeting the Mitchells.”

Taking a deep breath, Mark tried to calm his nerves. He’d lost almost everything in the span of a few months- a good chunk of his self-confidence included.

“Now what?" He asked. "You’re gonna warn them, right?”

“Find them yet, Travis?” Agent Ward asked another of the agents, ignoring Mark completely.

“Hey! You didn’t answer me!”

“We’ve managed to trace the interception to its sources, Ma’am.” The other agent replied, also ignoring Mark. “The coding here does look like Pal MAX, but we can’t actually access it. Since they’re online, the defences are strong. It would take a few days to get through the firewall even with Pal Labs resources, let alone commence a rewrite.”

The agents only turned their attention back to Mark when he snorted when trying to hold in a laugh.

“Of course it’d take ages,” he scoffed, “these are Pal bots. They’re designed to be pretty much impossible to be hacked by humans.”

“Well then,” Agent Ward towered over him intimidatingly, “you’d better get to work.”

Comments make my day! :)

#the mitchells vs the machines #tmvtm #fic #tmvtm eric #eric tmvtm #deborahbot 5000 #eric and deborahbot5000 #eric and deborahbot #linda mitchell #mark bowman #and into the fire

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dessarious · 3 years

Text

The Angel of Death Pt43

Inspired by this Story Starter by @someone-ev

AO3 Prologue Beginning Previous Next

“You need to leave.” Watching Damian start before turning towards her in a defensive stance was more amusing than she would have thought. “You’re losing your instincts al Ghul. Living a soft life is going to get you killed again.” Tris watched him settle into his formal ‘holier than thou’ persona and had to fight not to roll her eyes. She didn’t really want him on the defensive but it was his fault for not being more aware of his surroundings.

“How did you get in here?” She just raised an eyebrow at him. Hotel security was the realm of neophytes. She was a bit insulted he still thought so little of her skills. “Blake said you refuse to let them supply you.”

“I refuse to let you buy anything for me. That’s not the same thing. It also doesn’t change the fact that you need to leave.” He simply glared at her but Tris just waited. This nonsense she was used to and she still didn’t understand why he still tried to intimidate her when she’d never once backed down to him. Even when she should have.

“You have no proof that she’s coming for me and I’m not about to leave you here defenseless.” She couldn’t help the eyeroll.

“I assume your father is to blame for this new found sense of responsibility, unnecessary though it may be. I’m far from defenseless and given that I took you down with little effort you’re not the one I would want at my back anyway.” He actually flinched at that and there was something in his eyes that she couldn’t identify. She felt a twinge of guilt but had no idea why.

“I’m sorry.” Tris could only blink at him in confusion. He really had changed. In the past, challenging his worth like that would have resulted in an explosion. The stiffness he was radiating now was discomfort rather than pride. How strange. “I know we’re no longer attached but it was my job to protect you and I failed. I’m not going to leave you to face this threat alone. No matter how capable you may be.” Tris felt her brain just stop. That was the closest he’d ever come to complimenting her.

“You were a child, still are technically. You’d only been exposed to your mother’s worldview. There wasn’t anything you could have done.” Yes she was still bitter about how everything had happened but she knew that it wasn’t his fault. She still didn’t want anything to do with him because of their history, but she wasn’t so stubborn she couldn’t see past her feelings to what had actually happened.

“I should have made her look for you when she took me to Father. If I had refused to go without you she wouldn’t have had a choice.” Tris was fairly certain Talia would have knocked him out before wasting time looking for someone she had deemed worthless. Not to mention she had already run by that point so it wouldn’t have mattered.

“You know she wouldn’t have. I imagine you know better than most the lengths she’ll go to to rid herself of those she considers problems.” The look of shock on his face was all the confirmation she needed that his mother had been instrumental in planning his death. Her guilt came back with a vengeance. He wasn’t the only one who’d been absent when needed. “Besides, I do better on my own. The fewer moving pieces to worry about the better.” And there were already far too many.

“Perhaps, but I know the woman better than anyone. I’m a valuable source of information. Either way, I’m not leaving.” Tris couldn’t help the frustrated sigh that escaped. His amused smile made her want to knock him out and use Kaalki to send him back to Gotham.

“You staying means we won’t know which of us she’s after until it’s too late. Not to mention you’re out of your element here. I have a feeling you have far better protections at home. She’s counting on you being easier to get to and she’s right.” He may be certain his mother was after her but she knew it was likely the opposite. Even the Blakes agreed with her on that. “It’s suicidal for you to stay here given what we know.”

Before he could argue with her the door to the adjoining suite opened admitting his father and another man into the room. Both stopped short as soon as they saw her. She wasn’t certain what to expect but Mr. Wayne seemed to be fighting a smile and the other just looked confused for a moment before excitement took over.

“Oh my god, you’re so cute! And you’ve got the signature hair and eyes. How did you manage to keep Bruce from adopting you immediately?” The man was obviously insane.

“This is why I make sure people know you’re adopted.” For all his huffy tone, Tris could hear some affection in Damian’s voice and when she looked she saw the deep purple string connecting them. She felt jealousy well up but it was the pain that surprised her. She’d been alone so long she thought the hurt from losing her parents was gone.

“Leave, before it’s too late.” She spoke to Damian but didn’t wait for a response before exiting through the window. The last thing she wanted to deal with was one more person trying to take over her life or tell her what to do. She’d never been as willing as Damian to follow orders.

As she made her way across the city she could feel someone following her. Someone she couldn’t get a proper read on. Someone who was extremely well trained. As soon as she noticed she was being followed a string formed. It was light gray, darkening by the minute, but there was no indication of intent. She was fairly certain if they meant to harm her it would be obvious in the string, but she couldn’t chance that she was wrong. So she led them on a random chase across the city in the hopes she could lose them. If that didn’t work… well that was a problem for later.

AO3 Prologue Beginning Previous Next

Ko-Fi

Tag List

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soggy-platee · 3 years

Text

What Do We Do Now?- Chp. 1

Rating: E for now, explicit in later chapters

Pairing: Din x fem!Reader

Summary: A certain Mandalorian picks up your bounty.

Read on ao3 here!

You were really regretting your decision to not cut your hair this morning, as it was the sole reason you were currently face down in some dusty cantina with both of your wrists in a bruising grip behind your back.

In the spare moment you have in the time it takes for the Mandalorian to slap a pair of cuffs onto your wrists, you think back to the events earlier that day.

…

Tatooine was hot, and you hated it. You had been hiding on the dusty little planet for a little over 3 months. With a bounty looming over your head, you knew you needed to find a planet where the Guild no longer operated. Tatooine wasn’t the best option, still filled to the brim with Outer Rim scum, but it would work.

At least, you thought it would.

You stared at yourself in the small mirror, in the small refresher, within the even smaller flat you managed to rent out with your limited supply of credits. Tired eyes stared back at you, this whole “fugitive of the law” was getting to you. You took to the role pretty well, however. You knew you weren’t notable, and that’s the way you liked it. Average height, average build, average everything. You knew standing out would get you into trouble, so you did your best to avoid it at all costs. The only reprieve from this normality you allowed yourself was your hair. It was exceptionally long for a blazing planet like the one you currently resided on. When braided, how you normally wore it, in one long rope down your back, it easily reached the curve of your ass.

Today, like every day, you thought about cutting it off at the nape of your neck. You knew it would be better for you in the long run.

It would at least cool me off, you thought sourly.

Despite the logic in it, you could never bring yourself to do it. Maybe it had to do with your mother and the often horrific haircuts she managed to give you consistently as a child. You shivered at the thought of your mother finding out about the bounty on your head. She would kill you herself.

You didn’t mean to end up like this. Parents dead, no family left, and most importantly, no credits had left you in a tight spot as a young woman in the Outer Rim. You knew there were only two options for someone in your position, and you certainly were not pretty enough to make money off the most common option, so you became a thief. Petty at first, only stealing from those you deemed deserving. As you grew older, however, so did your crimes. Larger values, higher-profile targets, until you stole from the wrong person. Well, not stole per se. More like freed. Some high-profile dignitary from the Empire who still had influence. You had only planned to take the typical valuables, credits, and such. It was only by coincidence that you happened to free what you assumed was a typical house slave.

She had found you mid-job, begged you to get her out. She had looked so broken. So innocent. You cursed to yourself and hauled her out of the mansion with you.

Apparently, that “house slave” had really been “Mrs. Important Dignitary”, so essentially, you stole the guy’s wife. Great. If only you hadn’t been so soft. You knew it would get you in trouble. You knew-

You were shaken out of your thoughts by voices outside your window.

One soft, speaking so quickly they were almost tripping over their words. You creaked the door to the fresher and peaked your head out just enough to see though the small window in the side of your flat and into the alley beyond. You saw the quiet figure, but couldn’t exactly make out what they were saying. A young man you realized now was a local of the area, you had seen him around. But why did he look so scared? You craned your neck in an attempt to see who was frightening this man so, but you couldn’t do it without being directly in the mystery man’s eyeline. So you waited for a response as the other man trailed off. However, one never came. You simply saw a wild reflection of the light of the suns dance over the ally as you assumed the other person turned to walk away.

Armor, your stomach dropped as your mind supplied the explanation. Whether or not this person was here for you was still up for debate, but you knew they were dangerous. Only dangerous people still wore armor in the face of the blazing heat of Tatooine.

Once you were sure the armor-wearer had left, you snuck out of the fresher, grabbed your blaster, and vaulted quietly out the window to tail the other man. You fell into step behind him as he exited the ally and entered the busy street. You followed him through the crowd, staying enough paces behind him that he didn’t notice. You followed him for a good five minutes before he took an abrupt turn down another deserted alley. It was at this point he noticed you following him and tried to break into a sprint.

You were on him before he could even let the first beat land, pressing him up against a building lining the way with your arm at his sternum. He was taller than you, so you pointed your blaster up and dug it under his chin.

“Who the hell were you talking to?” you demanded, dropping your voice to the most intimidating octave you could muster.

The man in front of you sputtered, eyes wide with fear. You needed an answer.

You dug your blaster harder into the soft flesh under his jaw, presumably making it harder to breathe.

“Who?!” you practically growled at him, hoping it would do the trick

The man opened his mouth as if to answer you before the words died in his mouth. His eyes went even wider than before, if that was possible, and fixed on something above and behind your head. Your eyes remained on the man, but something behind him distracted you just as equally.

The same dancing lights you had just seen outside your flat made their way across the building behind the two of you. Your head whipped around to see a wall of armor standing at the mouth of the ally.

That bastard sent a Mandalorian? You were dead. That’s it, game over. Dead.

Even though your brain knew you were dead, your instincts still kicked in enough to release the man and shove him toward the entrance of the ally in one swift motion before taking off in the opposite direction. You fought the urge to turn back as you ran harder than you ever had in your life.

He knew I saw him question that man, he knew I would follow him to get answers.

At least you would get taken down by a clever bounty hunter.

More pressingly, you were coming to the end of the ally, closed off by a large gate. No way over it, you thought, too high. Sides? Pressed flush against the building, no getting through there. Bottom? Now there’s an option. The bottom was just high enough off the ground for you to shimmy through. Even though you only caught a glimpse of the Mandalorian, you knew he was too bulky to ever follow.

You might actually get away with this.

You dared yourself a glance back and the Mandalorian was nearly on you.

How is he so fast with all that shit on him?

You were only a few paces from the fence, it was now or never. You dove. Your upper body sparked in pain as you impacted the rough dirt. You slid smoothly until your ass hit the fence. Dammit. You desperately shimmied the rest of the way under the fence. You were almost there. You were going to make it.

Then you felt a grip on your boot, the only part of you not under the fence. You yelped loudly as you were ruthlessly pulled back, the majority of your calf returning to the other side. Your fingers clawed at the ground and your other leg kicked desperately at the gloved hand that held you.

Maker, he’s too strong

With another tug, you were almost up to your knees on the other side of the fence. While you were grunting and panting hard, the helmet behind you was absolutely silent, unnervingly so.

You knew you had to come up with something now. He still only managed to have you around your left ankle, so you brought your other foot up and pushed at the top of your left boot, hard. It slid free of your foot, and with one more push, your socked foot came out and pushed off the ground for leverage. He grabbed only a moment late as the last bits of you slipped under the fence. You kicked desperately at the ground and ran, only pausing when you were sure there was an absence of footsteps behind you.

You turned briefly and saw the Mandalorian standing there. A thrill ran through you.

What?

This man was trying to kill you, and yet the sight of him just standing there, glowering, still gripping your boot in his hand sent fire to the pit of your stomach. He was tall, taller than you first realized. Even in the alley far apart he seemed to crowd over you with his presence alone. You met where you assumed his eyes would be behind the t-shaped visor.

You could only imagine what he saw. Your eyes wide, mouth open, covered in dirt and wearing only one shoe.

This image of yourself roused you from your frankly insane thoughts, and you turned and ran.

…

After getting over what little pride you had garnered from managing to escape a Mandalorian, you realized how absolutely fucked you were.

Where were you supposed to go?

You couldn’t go back to your flat, that was out of the question. You couldn’t shack up with anyone you knew and liked in town, that would automatically put them in danger. You couldn’t shack up with anyone you knew and disliked because they would never let you in the front door, probably try to deliver you to the Mandalorian themselves.

So you end in the only place in which you knew you could get passage of the planet, the cantina. Thankfully it was busy tonight, so you could blend in well enough. You waited well late in the night, hiding close enough to see the entry and exit. No armor in sight. After your anxiety had built to a crescendo, you pushed yourself out of your hiding place and, on shaky legs, made your way to the front door. You entered with your hood pushed up over your head and your braid tucked into your cloak, trying to move as inconspicuously as possible. That was, until you heard your name shouted as loudly as possible.

You winced as your name echoed throughout the room and heads turned, yours slowly moving to face the voice that gave you away.

Ali. You love her to death, but she wasn’t the brightest one in the galaxy. She beamed at you from behind the bar, surrounded by patrons and their wandering eyes as usual. Ali was beautiful and she loved the attention, something you very much did not need right now.

You quickly made your way over to her at the bar, the serious look on your face made her cheerful expression drop at once.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” she questioned, still in a too-loud voice.

“I’m fine, just hiding” you gritted out from behind clenched teeth.

Ali seemed to get with the program then, lowering her voice and body to match your crunched position over the counter.

“Someone’s collecting on your bounty?” she whispered intently, with a trace of concern for you in her voice that softened your previous anger at her.

You had told her about your bounty about a month after being in town, you trusted her, she was good. That is why you very much did not want her caught up in this mess.

“Yes”, you replied, “A Mandalorian”

You saw the same realization hit her as had hit you.

“You’re dead” she said with wide eyes.

Great.

“I know, I’m trying to get off-planet. Are there any ships passing through tonight?”

“Not that I’ve heard, I’m sorry”

She really was.

You gave her a tight smile and turned to leave when you heard your name for a second time that day.

This time, it came from a gruff, older voice, and it came from a man pointing right at you from across the cantina.

The man was standing next to a solid wall of armor, with a familiar visor pointed straight at you.

Shit.

He made for you before you could make for the door, crossing the floor in seconds and grabbing your cloak. The same trick worked twice apparently, as you reached up and released the clasp around your throat and pushed yourself to a sprint toward the door.

You were going to make it, you were so close, you-

The next thing you knew, a blinding pain erupted from the back of your head and the world tilted around you until your shoulders smashed into the rough floor.

He grabbed your braid.

That was low.

One hand still wrapped tight around your hair, his other hand was used to flip you onto your stomach and wrench your wrists behind your back. Cuffs were slapped on and hummed to life as his knees caged your back. You bucked, trying to get him off you, or at least make him move, but he was solid.

The lost chance of cutting your hair this morning flashed in your mind, you grimaced with regret.

You kept thrashing, and in return, he wound your braid around his hand and yanked, earning a yelp from you as your head and chest were lifted from their place smashed into the ground and his helmet lowered so it was level with your face.

“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold”

You stilled. It was the first time you heard his voice, and it sent a thrill through your spine. Maker, what was wrong with you.

The slight arousal was quickly tamped down and replaced with overwhelming fear as he wrenched you from your position on the ground and to your feet.

The entire cantina had gone quiet with your brawl, all eyes on you both. As he pulled you into a standing position, he cast a glance, or at least you thought he did, at the other patrons, who all quickly averted their eyes and continued their conversations in hushed whispers.

He began to pull you to the door and you made final, desperate eye contact with Ali who looked devastated. You gave her a small smile as a goodbye and the door to the cantina slammed shut behind the two of you.

...

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #fanfic #ao3

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kamuisthoughts · 3 years

Text

The Actual Rant:

I’m going to begin by saying that I think the ABO dynamic is interesting.

That being said I’ve noticed some recurring and very disturbing themes that are attached to this type of AU, regardless of what fandom you’re reading in. It makes sense to me that a universe where people have secondary genders and are more susceptible to animalistic instincts would have different types of societal issues. This being the disturbing themes I mentioned. The disregard of rape, the gender oppression, the objectification of certain genders, and various forms of dysphoria.

Obviously these themes are extremely dark and unsettling, but what’s worse is how the people that take it upon themselves to write about these things romanticize these horrific issues. Using them as a tool to build a parallel world that would cause the reader to think or reflect on our own society is one thing. That’s what I would like to read. But instead I come across these ABO AUs and find authors downplaying these abominable problems, making it seem as if it’s okay to have these sorts of things happening.

If you tell me beforehand what you intend to do okay, I can just avoid that.

But anyway there’s a difference between building a world with dark elements like these and presenting it as something that is truly disgraceful, but many people in the world do not care or fear fighting against it, and creating a world where it’s obvious that the writer is fetishizing these elements. You can completely change the tone of something depending on how issues are presented, how the characters react to their circumstances.

I hate to see rape happen in a story. I honestly feel it’s the most unforgivable, egregious thing you could do to a person beside murdering them. It’s a form of torture, and I honestly believe this, so it turns my stomach to see people writing stories where characters go through this awful thing, sometimes repeatedly and it’s not accurately addressed. There’s rarely lasting trauma if any. They just kind of take it, they don’t fight, they might even accept it just because the character doing it to them is objectively attractive and that is nauseating to me.

I also hate to see kidnappings and forced marriages in this type of AU, where the author tells you the main character is a “BAMF” or “Strong” individual but this is never actually displayed. Not mentally which I often respect to see in characters and not even hinted at physically either. They’ll maybe have a sassy mouth but still won’t really do anything when their abuser is hurting them. And this is usually moot since the main character oftentimes just simpers for their alpha abuser in the end. They’ll either be too scared to continue to mouth off or be too enamored by the alpha’s physical appearance and scent.

I also noticed Stockholm Syndrome is really common in these stories as well, (should the author actually deign to touch upon the immense trauma rape would cause a person), despite how rare this condition is in reality. This I find maddening. Now, I understand sometimes reality is so painful that someone needs to escape it through delusion so that they can function somewhat coherently. But the fact that there are so many stories where a character is kidnapped, ripped from their life, forced to mate with someone who doesn’t respect them as a fellow human being, raped, forcefully impregnated, and then somehow still falls in love with their abuser is utterly repulsive.

And the thing that really upsets me is the fact that I deliberately exclude tags in my search that denote rape/non-con, underaged, and major character death yet still I come across stories where these things are mentioned. Are happening. They’ll be in the story but not in a story’s tags and just glossed over. I’m not sure if this is deliberate or if some of the writers just don’t understand the magnitude of the themes they’re pushing but regardless I find this unacceptable.

If someone says no and you stick your penis inside of them anyway, that is rape. If you lull them into a false sense of security due to pheromones after they’ve said no and have sex with them, that is rape. If they give up fighting because they know it’s hopeless it’s still rape. I don’t care how physically desirable you are, or how good you smell, or if you feel it’s your “right” to take the other person because you managed to pin them down and you’re stronger. They said no, and even if they didn’t say “no” they didn't say yes .

If someone didn’t say they accepted your advances, that is not dubious consent. That. Is. Rape . And women can be rapists too. Let’s stop pretending that’s not a thing and that it’s not just as bad no matter what gender the attacker is. Can we not try to sugarcoat the horrible things people are writing about and call it “dubious” so people can feel better about romanticizing sexual abuse and getting off on it? Because even if you don’t call a spade a spade it’s still a damn spade.

Now let’s talk about fetishes. I hate when male characters are forcefully feminized when they don’t want to be. Like seriously, a male omega in this type of ABO story could literally say, “I’m a man, don’t call me a wife or a mother” and the other characters will just brush it off, they won’t even address it. They’ll continue to label him incorrectly, continue to treat him in ways that make him uncomfortable, and eventually he’ll just stop getting upset or annoyed and go along with it. This is NOT okay. This happens when a writer likes writing about feminine men.

There’s nothing wrong with a feminine man, that’s not what I’m saying. What’s wrong is when a man is overly sexualized because of his physical appearance and incorrectly labeled by others despite him stating what he identifies as. If you want to write about a gender fluid male omega, do that! Do not write about a male omega who identifies as male and call him a wife just because he can give birth. He is still a husband. He is a man and the other characters should be respecting that.

Then we have the fetishizing of birth or breeding in these AUs. This element of this AU has always been so creepy to me. (And I’m talking about FORCED breeding. Edit added because I didn’t specify this at first).

Omegas in these AUs are seen as the lowest of the low because they have heats, are softhearted, physically weaker, and motherly. Yet despite being chained to the bottom of the societal hierarchy they are objectified by other secondary genders. They are desired just enough for alphas and betas to want to breed with but they aren’t worth equal rights such as choosing their own “mate”, their job, or even walking down the street without fear of being forcefully mounted.

Seldom do I see this issue actually portrayed as an issue. The omegas in the story bat their eyelashes at alphas, and even manipulate them because they know that they are objectified. They aim to get claimed by “strong” and “virile” alphas and to have “beautiful pups”. Like, what?

But okay, I can see that.

You live a certain way you can get used to almost anything, but the fact that it’s rarely more than the main character who wants for more is astounding to me. I guess this is a writer’s way of hammering home how different and “before their time” they want their main character to be but it just comes off as forced, and the main character becomes a novelty. Alphas just want the main even more because they want to break them so they can force them into the role of a “good little omega”.

It angers me to see this type of world building with no consequences. There’s no simmering rage at the lack of justice and equality, there’s no conflict. It’s just, “omegas are cute and sexy and they smell nice”. This just makes all of the characters seem like morally bankrupt sex addicts who’re all some form of insane and I can’t stand it. But I’ll digress.

The true reason I decided to write this rant?

A story.

Yes, I came across a story and for some reason despite the harmless looking tags and my knowledge of how misleading this AU can be I clicked on it. I just wanted to see if I was being too harsh on the ABO AU, if someone could write a story in this type of universe that I could actually bear to read that wasn’t extremely hard to find. (Most of the fics in this AU I come across are the really dark ones).

So, I tried to read an ABO AU for MHA, and I'll tell you now I couldn’t even get beyond the fourth chapter. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Izuku was of course a rare male omega, born in a fantasy world where All Might bestowed upon him the powerful magic of One For All and then dipped. Of course despite having this power Izuku was still a weakling, even though the author tried to say he was strong willed and “unlike most omegas”.

Izuku had to hide his secondary gender. He lived as a quirkless beta with his mother. One day he stumbled across Katsuki, who declared Izuku his “true mate”. Despite Izuku saying he didn’t want to mate with him, Izuku was abducted and forced to be with him simply because it was what Katsuki wanted.

Izuku repeatedly said he didn’t want to be there, that he didn't want to be with this literal stranger, and that he didn’t have any desire to be a baby factory for him but was of course ignored. Long story short Katsuki got his way and Izuku eventually was down with it. Because Katsuki was handsome, well built, and smelled nice Izuku didn’t even bother to stay angry at the injustice of his own situation.

This is one of the many stories in this type of AU I personally find problematic. I don’t care if people write these fics, I just wish they were more responsible about it.

I’ve seen stories where alphas threaten to kill an omega’s family or the omega themselves to force them to mate with them, and are forced to comply. Instead of acknowledging how horrible this is the other characters just sort of treat it like the omega is misbehaving and that they’re cute for being “annoyed”. Like, what? Literally what the fuck. And this is sometimes never brought up again.

Alphas could burn down a whole village, slaughter everyone and take the omegas as sex slaves and still in certain stories this could be romanticized. I can’t get with that. Especially not when the victims aren’t even upset for more than a few days. What the heck!? That was your family!

But what really makes me uncomfortable? When an author makes sure the reader is aware of the fact that an abuser is extremely physically attractive so that people will be less inclined to be disgusted by their atrocious behavior and mentality.

I get it.

Sometimes the inevitable fall is due to true mates and all that. But at the same time, that is absolute bullshit. I wouldn’t give a damn if you were Jesus Christ himself, if you threaten to kill my family, or me, DO these things, disregard my feelings because of what you want and what you have to gain I am not giving you the time of day. Or at the very least if I have no choice I’m gonna utterly despise the person harming me. Come on!

True mates/Soulmates could be so freaking cute. It HAS been. I’ve seen it. There’s good fics out there, I just wish there was more of a selection where certain tropes are implemented in a way that isn’t toxic.

I don’t care how objectively attractive someone appears. I don’t care what “fate” says or what “instincts” denote. What reason do some of these characters have to love their abusers? Let alone be attracted to them? Especially if they never get a heartfelt apology and the alpha doesn’t bother to change significantly to be a tolerable human being. But okay, ABO instincts. Lack of control. I know, okay? But come on, can we switch it up a bit?

Out of morbid curiosity, sometimes when I come across stories I just can’t read because the Non-con is there but it’s not portrayed as traumatic and the author doesn’t even TELL you it’s in there... out of some masochistic need to punish myself I scroll down to read some of the comments and no one, I mean no one addresses how skewed and warped the themes in these stories are. The readers eat it up. And it’s honestly sickening.

But you know what? That’s kind of a lie. Some people do complain but they’re usually just straight up hateful flames and I don’t support those. I wish people could be more constructive when commenting on people’s work.

But anyway, since it was the MHA ABO AU fic that set me off I’ll just continue to use Izuku and Katsuki as examples for my griping. With Izuku as the omega and Katsuki as the alpha.

Many fanfic writers set up their worlds as a means to impregnate Izuku. That’s what I believe. Not ALL fanfic writers that write about this AU do this. SOME of them do! And I’m not saying this is always problematic, but it is when they put certain elements together because they want to write about BakuDeku in a sexual form and don’t bother to note how dark the story elements they’re implementing actually are.

I’m not sure if this is because some of them don’t understand how serious and damaging these things are and can be (rape/sexual coercion/forced pregnancy) or if they just don’t care and find them cute and sexy.

Either way, the things some authors have alpha Katsuki pulling on Izuku are wrong and downright perverted.

Now, I’m not opposed to smut. Sometimes I read stories with smut, that doesn’t bother me. Sex is a natural thing and people do it to show how much they like someone, or even just because it feels good. Whatever, that’s fine. But putting two characters together and saying “this is how it is because fate and forget gradually becoming attracted because I want that sexual tension now!” is something I find greatly unsettling.

If I could see this idea displayed differently maybe I could be equally disturbed, but could grow to accept Izuku and Katsuki (or whoever are the focus of the story) as a pair. Why? Because if the things the alpha is doing are horrible they should be acknowledged as horrible.

A lot of stories could be more interesting to me if the author wrote the things I mentioned above as they actually are, despicable. Instead things a lot of the times are sugar coated, treated as a joke, or downright wrongfully sexualized. Sometimes all three at once! A lot of these fics could have been something I could stomach if treated soundly. Say, Katsuki for example decided Izuku belonged to him and he forcefully mated with him, not allowing Izuku to be with anyone else without serious backlash. If he began to realize that his outlook on life was entitled and morally bankrupt I could totally get with that!

The author in this fake scenario could take the steps to better Katsuki as a person. Izuku of course should rightfully hate this man but could grudgingly begin to see and acknowledge Katsuki trying to change for the better. Then when Izuku manages to let go of his anger for his own sake, (not Katsuki’s) I could probably accept him beginning to notice Katsuki romantically. NOT sexually.

Now if Izuku just has to notice Katsuki’s physical body from the beginning and finds him irresistible because you know, ABO AU instincts and all that jazz—but hated this about himself, the juxtaposition of physical desire but mental and emotional disdain could be fascinating, engaging. It would make Izuku seem more like a person in these stories and less like the idea of a mentally strong omega. (Again, not saying all ABO fics lack good storytelling or compelling characters or any of that).

I could accept this eventual forgiveness and romance scenario because it could be amazing storytelling wise. Allowing the reader to experience a range of emotions due to world building, characterization, character growth, and plot line.

But anyway, I’m not trying to bash the specific story I used as an example above. I realize a lot of people love it and a lot of my language was crude and even rude but I just felt the need to express exactly what I was feeling, and above is what I felt. (I had to cut some things because it was way too obvious which fanfiction set me off and that’s not what I wanted. Didn’t want to throw shade, just wanted to prove a point).

If people want to read those types of stories that’s fine, at least they’re not going out into the world and doing what they’re reading about. Or at least I hope that’s the case.

But anyway, if people are going to read these types of things I think the reality of the content should be aptly acknowledged. No rose colored glasses, because that just makes it so wrong. And no, I’m not talking about being partial to any kind of kinks. I’m talking about a type of ABO fic that is problematic for me. I wrote a whole damn rant, if you can’t glean what I’m saying here I freaking give up.

But more presently, I guess it really comes down to what you prefer. Other people like things that come off as more sensual and carefree.

Personally I make it a point not to read those types of fanfictions because it’s just not my preference. I prefer to read things with dark world building with what I perceive as realistic consequences and real justice. Or maybe just downright cold blooded revenge sometimes. That’s nice too. Everyone is different, and I think I’ve just become frustrated because I’m not finding many stories like that in this AU.

That being said I’ve decided to write a story that I could read. A few, actually. You know what they say, “if you don’t do it, nobody else will”.

#ranting #I’m butthurt #read the whole thing #Kamui’s ABO Rant #my hero academia fanfiction #Problematic Portrayals of Trauma Complaint

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danny-williams · 3 years

Text

Hard Left

Steve’s never been one for dating apps. It’s old fashioned of him, and serves as an endless source of amusement for Mary; but he’s never liked dating apps. That isn’t to say he doesn’t know how they work; but he just thinks that it’s hard to judge someone from a couple of photos and a witty one liner.

He believes in meeting people in person, gauging what they’re like for himself. Is that so wrong? Maybe it is old fashioned, but it’s never steered him wrong before.

That being said, in Steve’s line of work, there isn’t much opportunity to meet anyone who isn’t either actively trying to kill him, or a petite thing with a trim waist who he’s not going to see again in the morning, so he’s decided to finally give Tinder a try; if only so he can prove to Mary that he gave it an honest shot and it really doesn’t work.

That, and his flight’s been delayed for another six hours, and it’s been so long since Steve’s flown commercial that he’s forgotten how to occupy himself.

He isn’t putting much stock into who he’s swiping on, because according to Mary, the cardinal rule of Tinder is to not overthink it, and just go with your gut instinct. In the interest of giving the app a fair shot; Steve’s actively trying to do that; only spending a couple of seconds on each profile and flicking through the first couple of photos before making his decision.

It’s oddly mind-numbing, distracting him from everything that’s been weighing on his mind.

“Ouch, you didn’t even give that a second’s thought. Hard left huh?”

Steve startles at the sound of someone’s voice just behind him, pulled away from the bright technicolour screen of men straining themselves in still photos, and turns to see a familiar face. It takes Steve a few seconds, before he realises with slight horror that the man sitting behind him, is the same man that he just swiped left on a couple seconds ago.

Danny Williams, 34. If you don’t like pineapple on pizza and beaches, we’re going to get along great.

In person, Steve can admit that Danny’s a hell of a lot more attractive than he is in his photos. Startling blue eyes, a defined jaw that’s got a smattering of fuzz on it, and slicked back blond hair that’s clearly been teased and styled back.

There’s a small smile playing on his lips, and it takes Steve a couple of seconds to realise that Danny’s probably still waiting on an answer.

“Sorry brah,” he manages to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth, “Who doesn’t like beaches? Everybody likes the beach.”

Danny’s eyebrows shoot up, even though it’s clear from the twinkle in his eyes that he isn’t actually offended, “What’s to like about the beach? You go, it’s hot, you get sweaty, and you start finding sand in all sorts of weird places for the rest of the weeks. Me, I’m a city person. I like roads, and buildings. I’m a big concrete fan.”

“Clearly you feel very passionately about this.”

“I do I do,” Danny jostles slightly, and it’s only then that Steve notices the little girl resting near his hip, curled around Danny like she’s seeking warmth, “But unfortunately, I promised my little girl that I’d take her to Hawaii this summer, so that she could spend some time with her mother; so I am going to be subjected to a full two weeks of beaches and pineapple.”

Mother, Steve feels himself deflate, even though he was the one who swiped left on Danny. It’s stupid, but for a breif second when Danny mentioned Hawaii, Steve entertained the idea of telling him that he was flying back to Hawaii too; for two weeks leave; but now it feels worthless.

The surprise must show in his face, because Danny elaborates, “My ex-wife moved to Hawaii over a year ago, with her new husband. We decided it was best for Grace to stay with me, because her husband travels a lot for business, and we didn’t want to completely uproot her life - but the trade off is that she gets Gracie for the holidays.”

Danny runs a hand through Grace’s hair, almost absently, “I swung myself some leave with the precinct, because two whole months without my daughter? I’d go insane.”

“Precinct?” Steve asks, “You’re a cop?”

Danny puffs his chest out slightly, “Newark PD. I’m a Homicide Detective.”

Steve whistles lowly, “My dad’s a cop. Honolulu PD. I didn’t know cops got summer vacations off.”

“They don’t usually,” Danny admits with a shrug, “but I lucked out with my precinct. Besides, it was either that or I do something drastic like quit just so that I wouldn’t be separated from my babygirl for too long, so my Chief weighed his options and decided this was the better one.”

“What about you?” Danny gives him a critical once over, eyes dragging from his face all the way down the length of his body, “You look military? Army?”

“Navy,” Steve corrects, “I’m on leave for the next two weeks, and figured I’d fly home to see my dad.”

“Honolulu PD, that’s Oahu isn’t it? We’re on the same flight?” Danny grins when Steve nods, and it lights up his whole face, “So I guess that means I’ve got the whole flight to convince you that swiping left on me was a bad idea.”

No need, Steve thinks, but what comes out is, “I guess you do.”

Fin

#my writing #mcdanno #steve mcgarrett x danny williams #steve mcgarrett/danny williams #steve x danny #steve/danny #hawaii 5 o #hawaii 5 o fanfiction

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limjaeseven · 3 years

Text

Fill My Heart With Liquor

Pairing: Jaebeom X Jinyoung

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2,079

Warning(s): Alcohol consumption, drunk JB, sad JB, JJP being cuties

Summary: Jinyoung finds out the day before that he's going to be busy filming on Jaebeom's birthday.

[a/n]: Written based off of this tweet which came to my notice thanks to the wonderful fitbbeoming. They are an incredible artist, please check out their work, they deserve all the love. A huge thank you to @taetaesbaebaepsae for beta reading this fic.

“Hyung,” Jinyoung calls out to his boyfriend who’s lying on their bed, his nose buried in a book as usual.

Jaebeom dropped the book to his chest, peering over to look at the younger who was sitting on the floor with his script in his lap and phone in his hand, a tensed smile on his face. The elder had known Jinyoung long enough to tell from just the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes that something was wrong.

Pushing himself off the bed, Jaebeom dropped onto the floor next to his boyfriend, groaning as a shock of pain ran up his spine, his back sore from his days of slouching in his chair in his studio.

“What is it, Nyoungie?” Jinyoung ignored him, his hands instinctively shooting to the elder’s back to massage the muscles and release all the knots, worry written on his face. “How many times do I have to tell you to stretch once in a while when you’re in the studio for so long?” Jaebeom waved the man off, turning to face him, his palms resting on the younger’s shoulders.

“Speak.”

Jinyoung’s face flashed with a nervous expression as he let out a heavy sigh.

“I have a shoot tomorrow, I will be leaving early in the morning and won’t be back before midnight. Yoo Jitae hyung isn’t free next week so we’ll have to finish filming the next two episodes before the weekend.” Jinyoung’s guilty expression made Jaebeom’s heartbreak more than the repercussions of what the man was saying. It was Jaebeom’s birthday the following day and not once in the ten years that the two men had known each other had they spent it apart, come what may they did their best to spare at least a few hours to themselves.

“It’s fine, Jinyoung, just get me a good bottle of wine on your way back.” Despite Jaebeom’s attempts to console the younger, it didn’t stop him from feeling bad about leaving his boyfriend alone for his birthday.

“Hyung,” Jinyoung whined but Jaebeom just shut him up with a peck to his lips before getting up to cook dinner for the two of them.

“At least let me cook for you tonight.” Jaebeom had been busy cutting vegetables when Jinyoung showed up from behind to wrap his arms around the elder’s this waist, resting his chin on the elder’s strong, wide shoulders. Jinyoung always found comfort in the way Jaebeom was so much bigger than him, his broad shoulders protecting him from the rest of the world when wrapped in his embrace.

“And what, let you burn the kitchen down? Just set the table, you’ll need to sleep soon anyways if you want to get up early tomorrow.” Jinyoung pouted cutely at the elder, which was rewarded with another kiss and a soft push, urging him to pull out the plates from the cabinet.

“Hyung, can’t we wait till midnight at least, that way I’d be able to wish you a happy birthday?” Jaebeom just laughed, dragging the younger to bed once they were done washing the dishes after dinner.

“You know if you don’t get at least six hours of sleep you’ll be cranky in the morning.” Jinyoung’s pout vanished as Jaebeom took his hoodie off to change into a sleep shirt, his eyes zoning in on the man’s toned chest. “Stop drooling,” A wad of cloth came flying straight into Jinyoung’s face, causing the younger to fall back onto the bed. As he pulled it away he realised Jaebeom had thrown the hoodie he was wearing at him and had already changed into his pyjamas, much to Jinyoung’s dismay.

“I’m sorry, hyung,” Jinyoung whispered as he fell asleep in Jaebeom’s warm embrace that night, his heart heavy as he cuddled closer to the elder. Jaebeom just ran his hand through the younger’s hair, wishing him goodnight before turning the bedside lamp off, plunging the room into darkness.

Jinyoung desperately wanted to call Jaebeom up to wish him, or at least make him breakfast before he left but Jinyoung slept through his alarm and woke up with five minutes to spare before his manager would arrive with the car. Running to get changed, the younger blindly grabbed his things, combing through his hair just to make it look presentable and throwing on a random sweater with a pair of jeans. He sprinted out of their apartment just as his manager arrived, Jinyoung climbing into the back seat, being driven off to the location of the shooting.

When Jaebeom woke up to a cold bed, he couldn’t help but groan at the thought of a birthday without Jinyoung. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and scrolled through the endless list of wishes from his friends, family and fellow idols. Youngjae called him to talk to him for a while, Jinyoung had let the younger know of the circumstances the night before and asked him to distract the elder so that he wouldn’t spend too much time in his own head.

Eventually though the younger got called away for a schedule and the elder was left alone to his own devices, which meant that he stayed in bed till noon and threw together a simple meal for brunch. He considered heading to the studio to spend some time but recalled how he’d leant the space to a producer friend whose studio was undergoing renovations.

He decided to instead drive down to meet his parents and so he shot his mother a text, letting her know that he would be leaving soon. Unfortunately, just as he was slipping on his shoes, he received a reply from her, letting him know that both of them were busy visiting Jinyoung’s parents, a tradition that had started when Jinyoung and Jaebeom started dating. Every six months, Jaebeom’s parents would go to Jinyoung’s parents’ house and vice versa to just meet and talk, the four of them incredibly close.

He tried getting a hold of one of the members to hang out with but Yugyeom was out with his friend Seungyoun, Bambam was busy in the gym, Jackson had a meeting for his company, so on and so forth. Even his offshore friends had been too busy to spare him some time. Defeated, Jaebeom decided to just play some of his favourite LPs and read, changing into his comfiest pair of pyjamas and brewing himself a nice dark coffee in order to treat himself.

Half an hour into the process though, the words on the page in front of him refused to make any sense, no matter how many times he read them and the song, even his favourite sounded like the blandest and most offensive piece of music he had ever heard. Frustrated, he grabbed his laptop to watch some anime on it but that too only entertained him for so long.

Jaebeom looked at his phone again, realising that Jinyoung hadn’t contacted him once since morning, not even sent him a text to wish him. Even though he knew it was probably because he was busy and maybe his phone would have died because Jinyoung always forgot to charge his phone, it didn’t stop the insecurities to brew in the back of his mind, dark as the coffee in his hand.

Jaebeom had many demons he battled every day, much like anyone else, many of them stemming from his persistence to overachieve and perfectionism and the waves of self-loathing that crashed over him when things didn’t turn out the way he wanted them to or the insecurities that exposed themselves like open wounds when he failed at meeting his own insane expectations.

Jinyoung to him was an angel, a creature from the heavens who had settled for someone like him. Even though he knew that Jinyoung loved him for who he was, flaws and all, he still refused to believe that he was nearly enough.

Before he could go too deep into that train of thought and get stuck in his own head till Jinyoung got home, Jaebeom decided a good drink was what he needed to clear his mind. Looking through the fridge for two bottles of soju and a glass, he sat on the couch, letting himself relax into the cushioned seat. Nora decided his lap was prime real estate for a nap and hopped on top, nuzzling herself against his thighs as he drank a shot, the liquid burning the back of his throat as it went down.

Jaebeom doesn’t remember how much he drank or when he picked up his phone to look through Instagram. Yoo Jitae, Jinyoung’s co-star for his drama had posted a picture of him and Jinyoung together, drinking coffee on set. Seeing Jinyoung in costume, dressed in a pair of tight black jeans, an oversized hoodie and a denim jacket made Jaebeom feel a pang in his chest. He missed his boyfriend dearly and he couldn’t do anything about it.

Opening up the camera in the app, Jaebeom took a picture of himself pouting with a cute filter on, wanting to send it to Jinyoung via dm but he accidentally put it on his story. Before long, posts of fans cooing over his appearance and expression came pouring in, many asking him for the reason for his pout. Jaebeom’s drunk mind decided it was a good idea to pine for his boyfriend via instagram and posted story after story, talking about missing a part of him, never explicitly mentioning Jinyoung, of course. He had that much sense in him, no matter how drunk he was.

The pouty selfies became teary eyed ones as he quoted lines from his favourite books, one that talked about feeling empty, lost and lonely. His fans expressed concern but he immediately shut them down, calling them ‘late night musings’. Just as he was about to get fed up of posting stories too, he heard a soft knock on the door.

Jaebeom sprinted to the door, almost falling over multiple times before he made it there to open it. The elder all but fell into Jinyoung’s arms as he saw the younger standing there, smiling brightly. Jinyoung had to drag a very drunk Jaebeom back inside the house as the elder rested all his wait on the younger, refusing to let him go. Deciding to just dump him on the couch, Jinyoung fell with the elder as he continued to clutch onto the younger.

“Happy birthday, hyung,” Jinyoung whispered to Jaebeom, his phone in one hand indicating the time as 23:59. Jaebeom took a few seconds to register what was happening but as soon as he did, he resolved to smothering his boyfriend in kisses instead of answering him.

“Why didn’t you text at least? And how come you’re home so early?” Jaebeom practically whined, his words slurred. Jinyoung couldn’t help but coo at his hyung as he finally wriggled his way out of the elder’s embrace, instead sitting up on the couch and helping the elder to do the same.

“My phone died before I could text you and by the time I got a charger for it we were so busy recording I couldn’t get to it till like twenty minutes ago;” Jinyoung confessed, the guilt heavy in his voice. "As for why I'm back early, well someone decided to pine on their stories about how much they felt lonely and sad and all that jazz and I thought they were talking about me so I came here. Were they not? Should I go back?" All Jinyoung was rewarded with was a slap to his chest and a peck to his cheek.

"I did get the wine you asked for but I think that's best left for another day. Let's get you to bed, hyung," Jinyoung knew he couldn't carry the elder, so he opted to drag him to the bedroom, pushing him onto the bed before changing quickly and snuggling in close to his hyung.

"I love you, hyung. Good night" Jinyoung said, pressing a kiss to Jaebeom's forehead as he slept with his head resting on the younger's chest, his breathing slowing as he fell into deep sleep.

****

"Omg what was I thinking, last night?!" Jaebeom exclaimed, looking at the barrage of memes his group mates had made of all the pictures he had posted the night before. "Don't worry, I found them adorable," Jinyoung replied with a soft peck on the elder's cheek.

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mirkysconcubinefiction · 4 years

Text

You Know

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Reader (****), Bucky

Summary: What Steve walked into was a catacomb of missed chances, squandered love, utter betrayal, and regret plastered on the walls. Poster sized prints weren't taped to the walls, oh no, **** glued reprints of him fucking another woman on whatever space she could manage.

Tags: Angst, Cheating, Broken Engagement, Drunk Texting/Video, attempt at Humor

AO3: Mirkys_Concubine

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

You didn't need or want a boyfriend... Or girlfriend for that matter.

One minute you were fine and dandy wiping down a table and the next your tray whizzed through the air and smacked a perv in the head.

And again.

If someone gropes your ass the logical reaction would be murder. At least that's what your mama had taught you.

Kill them like the roach they were.

Maybe that's when he saw you more than a random part time human he interacted with? He had swooped in, plucked the tray out of your hand, and broke it in half over the guys head.

Of course you politely said thank you before landing a solid kick into the perv. Not the face. If there weren't cameras you'd have stomped on his head.

Twice.

The way your mama had taught you.

That was then.

Before routine.

When he had to stalk you for a date in his goofy bashful self. When his best friend would get a kick of the 'old Steve' that was a mess around girls. When he had... no... there was no sense in getting nalstagic.

While you didn't want a boyfriend you never expected to get married. Steve's friends had been more excited than you, magazines and samples had taken over the small breakfast nook in the corner of the kitchen. You lit them on fire on the roof in one of the communal pits and lounged with takeout and wine. It's where you sat and made the decision to leave.

You couldn't stay.

God what would your mother say if she had been alive? She'd be disappointed in you.

The ring was rose gold, shaped like an octagon, and while pretty you had been afraid you'd lose it. Tempting as it was to flush it down the toilet you left it in the freezer atop a bag of sweet corn.

You packed your clothes - the ones you had purchased - into one luggage, another luggage was your shoes and intimates, and your carry on bag was large enough for your toiletries and kindle.

The car you purchased - with cash and registered under an alias - had enough space in the trunk for the luggage. The lovely security guard had helped you - bless him - and then you drove off. You refused to look back and you refused to shed another tear.

Well planned and as thought out as one could get considering their ex was an avenger with questionable access to the interwebs. You waited until the Avengers were on a mission.

A friend of a friend helped with your makeup and prosthetics to make you look like an elderly man, and you had enough cash on you to fund a bank. No paper trails, no cell phones beyond a simple Nokia that had no internet access, and once you made it outside state lines and to a safe house you'll disappear.

Again.

No more chances at romance.

All men were the same.

Even all american test tube super hero's weren't immune to cheating and lying.

✖

Home.

It used to be warm, smelled of dessert, savory meals, music played in the background, **** off tune voice singing along, there was a garden scattered throughout the condo, fruit always filled a basket, and more importantly **** was there to make him feel human.

Less lonely.

Alive.

Loved.

Cherished.

That was home. One he worked hard to obtain.

What Steve walked into was a catacomb of missed chances, squandered love, utter betrayal, and regret plastered on the walls. Poster sized prints weren't taped to the walls, oh no, **** glued reprints of him fucking another woman on whatever space she could manage.

The glossy original prints hung from the ceiling right over their bed like a weird still mobile. With that thought Steve remembered the birth control pills and hoped she would never catch on as to how insane he really was over her.

The doorbell rang.

Had it been anyone else, Steve wouldn't have opened the door but instinct fueled his hand and trust didn't make him flinch as a fist hit him in the face and he was down. Dropped on his ass in his own home with an incensed soldier grabbing him by his shirt and tossing him like a rag doll before shutting the door and locking it.

✖

The island held an empty fruit basket and a ring. A frozen mockery of a promise he remembered in great detail from months ago. Bucky had found it as he had been gracious enough to offer a bag of frozen peas only to find a bag of sweet corn and a ring.

Steve wanted to cry.

He wanted to get angry.

He wanted to call Tony for a favor but he could do nothing but sit on a stool his fiancee, future wife, future mother to his children, now 'ex', had picked out.

Only Bucky would probably kill him if he so much as sniffled.

The bag of sweet corn smacked him across the face none too gently and Steve winced. The other stool creaked as the crack and hiss of a Fanta soda being opened. Yet another check against him, **** made a point to stock the fridge with his and Bucky's favorites.

"Hope she was worth it."

"Buck..."

"Blond, green eyes, fake tits, didn't know desperate was your type."

Steve shut both eyes and slouched, "It was a mistake."

Bucky's brows lifted, soda can midway to his lips. "Fucking her for two months is now a mistake?"

"Look... I tried to stop it. Every time we met it just... Happened." It was stupid and in a way so true. He had tried stopping but some how they always end up fucking and every time he promised himself it was the last.

"Bullshit!" The can bent as it was slammed onto the counter. "You don't commit to marriage and then run off to fuck some floozie from legal!"

"I'm sorry!" Steve snapped, "I know I fucked up! It's on all the fucking walls!" Which was true. Even the fridge door had a blown picture of his face between slender legs and the freezer door a blown up shot of his cock being sucked. "I need to find her, apologise, and fix this." Bucky snorted, "I can fix this."

"**** has more respect for herself than you do of her."

"I love her." He did. Steve loved **** more than he'd love Peggy.

"You don't love a woman like **** and then fuck a bitch behind her back."

"It was a mistake." Steve grit out, irritated.

"Two months isn't a mistake. That's a fucking affair. Litteraly. You fucked like rabbits."

Steve stared, a frown tugging at his lips. "How do you know?"

Bucky stood and went for another soda only to stare at the woman splayed out for the world to see, "She is hot. Better looking than ****. It would've hurt more if you'd downgraded."

"**** is perfect!" Steve spat, throwing the bag of mushy corn where it burst as it hit a well.

"Look at her though." Bucky tapped on the breasts, "Nipples are spaced perfectly, more than a handfull, kudos to her surgeon."

"Kudos? When do you say kudos?"

"Must be on a low carb keto diet or those green smoothies, and even her belly button is worth cumming over."

Steve stared. Horrified. What was going on?

"And look at her skill!" A metal knuckle tapped at where the womana nose pressed against Steve's pubes. "Porn quality. The type of girl you want to teach you some shit."

"You know where she is." It wasn't a question. Bucky didn't talk like that. The man was a storm of swears, stares, and threats. Not... this. "Where is she?"

"Wish I knew so I could tell you to fuck off."

"She couldn't have gone far if she met with you, I might have time..."

"I haven't spoken to **** and i don't expect to hear from her again actually." Bucky ignored his friend's glare as he rummaged through the fridge for another soda and snagged a bag of cookies because only **** would hoard cookies in a refrigerator. "She left her phone in my apartment and instructions to watch her video."

"What?"

Bucky pulled out **** phone tucked on the inside of his jacket and tossed it to the other man. He returned to his seat, opened his soda, and munched on his cookies.

The phone wasn't password activated and a quick search proved most of the personal stuff like pictures and apps were deleted except for a single video.

Hey Tiny.

**** personal nickname for Bucky who had lost a bet but secretly was amused by it. The phone shook as **** had nearly dropped it with a swear. She looked as if she had been crying and she was chugging from a bottle of plum wine. Her favorite wine.

Just wanted to say i will miss you and i love you. Like, really, really love you. I'd give you my kidney sorta love.

She giggled and sipped at her bottle, eye's roaming the room. Tears slipped from her eyes and Steve felt his own burn. **** was a mess. She used a sleeve to wipe at her nose and her smile was shaky.

I redecorated, Steve will love it.

The camera flipped and **** showed off the wallpaper of porn. The condo looked trashed and luggage was open on the living room floor half packed and takeout piled on the coffee table.

I figure since he loved to fuck random pussy he'd like this theme. I call it *Whore of Narcissism*

The camera swivels and zooms into a familiar picture of the woman laid out and the hand holding the bottle points at the woman.

Not her. She not a whore Tiny. Ok!

The camera swivels to another portrait of Steve's face.

He's a cunt faced whore.

The camera switches and **** is giggling again.

Shhh. Look what I did. Put it it on the fridge door, that's where I keep the fish sticks.

Bucky snorts and Steve barely refrains from giving the man the finger.

See. Cunt whore faced.

**** giggles

Don't tell him but he can't eat pussy. He can't, he misses the clit. Like how do you miss this?

The phone tilts and Steve swears as she's wearing practically nothing. It wasn't her sexy underwear but the shear laced thong left little to be hidden.

It's right there, see it pokes out a bit too.

**** bumps her pussy with the bottom of edge of the wine bottle.

How can he miss it?

"It gets better." Bucky happily munches on a cookie.

"Fuck you."

Look. Just look.

There's a thunk as the bottle was set down and **** shoves aside her underwear and it was a crooked close up of her manicured pussy.

How is this not buffet worthy? My pussy tastes like sin yet he treats it like a McD's drive through. My pussy is not a Big Mac! It's MSG!

The phone jerks up back to her face and she's angry.

Chinese buffet MSG quality. My pussy is it's own zodiac sign ok!

Bucky's shoulders are shaking and Steve is mortified.

Maybe he likes her sauce though?

The camera points to his head between the girls legs.

He never spends forever with me but with her... I got so many pictures of her and he is just there. I have a buffet he can eat from and he chooses this...

Her hand smacks on a breast.

She's hot Bucky. Look at her. She's fucking perfect and her tits are fucking perfect. You see them? Nipples spaced perfectly, bigger than his hands, kuddos to whoever worked on her, she's a fucking art piece, I wanna know her surgeon, I want tits like hers.

The camera shifts and **** holds the camera up at an angle downward as she unhooks her bra with one hand and slips one arm out while it dangles from the other and she's touching herself.

See one's smaller.

"Did you..." Steve couldn't get it out as he watched his fiance complain about her breasts on camera to his best friend. Brother.

"Fuck her?" Bucky crushes his empty soda can, "I'm not you. If I had that in my bed I wouldn't get complaints about my mouth."

... at least she's hot you know. If he's going to fuck another bitch at least she's beautiful. I'd die if he downgraded you know. He fucked her in the office you know. Her office. She's beautiful and educated and I'm a mess.

The wine bottle was back in her hands and she took a long swallow uncaring that she was half naked.

I'm sorry Tiny. Bucky. I'm... This... I should delete this one but my battery is gonna die so fuck it. I'm leaving. When you see Steve punch him. I can't be there when he gets back. I'll kill him.

She sipped her wine and her brows furrow.

She has to be on some low carb keto diet... I don't think I can drink those green smoothies but I would have. I could look like a porn star! I can look plastic too!

Her eyes go wide before she blinks and frowns.

I can get wigs and wear those waist thingy's and change names... We could have role played. I would have called him daddy or - or - dirty stuff. I could have been his whore you know. I'm not a basic bitch Tiny. If she were my friend she'd teach me to not choke!

**** shakes her head and takes another swig.

I want to hate her but she... Bucky she was crying. He lied to her, for two months he lied to her, and she brought me ice cream Bucky. I couldn't hit her. She got me chocolate.

Her eyes narrowed and the sadness was swept away.

I want to hurt him. Rip his heart out through his ass and shove it down his throat! I planned it too, killing him. Got explosives... was gonna put a trigger thing on it and boom. Take out the whole floor.

**** makes a boom noise before flopping on the couch atop folded clothes, her wine bottle gone from her hands.

Neighbors got a kid downstairs and... Kids... No kids.

She rubs her face, tears leaving tracks and her breadth hitches and she's doing her best to not break down.

I was right. I told you there's no such thing as happily ever after. I told you they're all the same. I'm...

Her breath hitches and she's staring into the lens. Broken.

I'm not perfect Bucky, I'm not her but I loved him. I believed him. You said... Said he was good and I be-believed you cuz I trusted you and I want... Wanted... I deserve to be loved. I am good enough... I'm good... Right? Bucky... Why... Why am I not good enough? what did I do wrong? I... I... I'm sorry.

The phone tumbles and the screen goes dark but Steve can't hold back his own tears as he hears her sob before it cuts off completely.

What had he done?

How did he fix this?

Can he fix this?

End...

Part 2 of 1/2

#fanfiction #fanfic #avengers #mirkysconcubinefiction #dark steve rogers #dark steve x reader #marvel #bucky #cheating #affair #broken engagement

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skyrim-drabbles-n-stuff · 4 years

Text

Miraak x Ldb: Baby (dragon) Fever

(Baby dragon this time)

Winter was not a forgiving season in your homeland. Everyone knows that even through the summer Skyrim was known for its delightful flurries. So to say that it was cold would be one hell of an understatement. However despite the atrocity of the elements, you were capable of making your proud homestead comfortable. A humble fire ignited by a mere mumble of “yol” and a bottle of spiced wine in your hand.

The only thing troubling you at this point was the fact that Miraak was due back home from foraging a little over an hour ago. Sure, he was definitely able to take care of himself. Gods he was anything but defenseless. Perhaps the source of your anxiety stemmed not from what could happen to him, but what would happen to something if it messed with him.

Thankfully before your mind could wonder too far your focus was snapped back to reality by the sound of a door opening, howling winds accompanying it before an abrupt stop. Eyes still gazing into the fire you grinned, you knew who it was. Even if you didn’t at first, you knew the pattern of footfalls and clinking of golden chains by heart, quickly giving away who it belonged to.

“I was just wondering where you were..” Was your breaking of the silence, a happiness you didn’t realize was missing taking over.

However when he didn’t answer, his large form languidly retreating to your shared quarters, the smile dropped rather quickly. He was grumpy naturally but it was unlike him to ignore you. If anything he’d annoy you to no end before ignoring you.

What could he possibly be mad about? Surely he heard you.

With an agitated huff you pursued him. Frustration growing with each step closer. Once you passed the doorway you were practically fuming. It was pitiful he could invoke such strong emotions so easily, but hey, you loved the bastard so if anyone was aloud to do this to you it should be him. Needless to say, you were still pissed.

If looks could kill, he’d likely have daggers sticking out his now bare back. His robes were full of rapidly melting snow and were now lying in a messy pile next to his boots. How’d he get undressed so quickly? It didn’t matter.

Crossing your arms over your chest you cleared your throat. “I was worried.” You gruffly sneered, brow furrowing.

When he didn’t answer again, only looking over to give you emerald hued side eye, you were about to blow up. How dare he stand at the foot of your bed, bare save for his pants, infuriating you beyond belief?

As though sensing your impending fury, he sighed, opening his mouth to speak. Before any words could form, a distinct “squeak” stopped him. Instantly his eyes were saucer sized, now perfectly fixated on you.

“What the hell?” You muttered, arms uncrossing before you took a few hurried steps to his side.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for what was previously hidden. Did you gasp? Yelp? You didn’t even know. For what reaction would be appropriate when there was a minuscule creature lying on your bed? What was one supposed to do when there was a...a..dragon?

Being Dragonborn didn’t mean you knew what to do in the presence of another dov. Kill was definitely a first instinct but...not now. Time itself seemed to heed as you took in the details of the creature before you.

It was..beautiful? Scales glimmering in the candlelight a shiny golden-cream color. It’s wide, curious eyes a kind amber hue. It was no bigger than a wolf pup, yet it stood as proudly as its tiny wings and legs would allow.

Whenever it’s eyes met yours is when they really lit up. From the tiny form erupted a strangely cute hissing chirp as it inspected you, it’s head tilting side to side.

“I think the little dovah likes you.” Finally, your lover’s deep accented voice spoke, a gentle expression on his face.

With no hesitation, one of his burly arms wrapped around your waist. His gaze however was still transfixed on the little creature, clearly amused as it approached you.

“Um..yeah, wait no. Miraak, where..?” “It’s no matter, this little one didn’t have a home. She wouldn’t survive on her own.” He mused, his free hand reaching towards the golden dragon to lovingly let the top of her little head. “It wouldn’t have been right to leave her, sahrohtaar practically forbade it.”

Maybe you’ve gone insane. That was plausible. You knew he was compassionate but you were sure that it was limited to you and yourself alone. Never in a million years would you have expected this. Besides..when did dragons mate? You were almost certain they were all male. Okay yeah, logically speaking that couldn’t have been so but you’ve never seen a female dragon. Save for yourself of course..but that didn’t really count right?

Following his arm up to his face you were even more so shocked. The look of love in his eyes was astonishing. It wasn’t the love he shown when he looked at you, but you could tell it was easily as significant, just not the same type. For a man who proclaimed hatred for dragons, this was earth shaking.

“I don’t know what to say...” you drawled, slowly grinning once again. You were terrified, weirded out and disturbed but..if it meant you could continue to see that gentle look in his eyes, all of it was worth it. “Does..does she have a name?” You asked, melting as his loving eyes met your own- the kindness in his smile enough to make you forget about the frozen fury raging outside the safety of your home.

He hummed tentatively at your question. A habit of his that let you know when he put great thought into something. “Yes..I was thinking, Briiviinhind.” He was proud and it was obvious.

“Brii..Beautiful..shine..hope? Not really a scary dragon name, but still proper. Three words of power.” Oh gods, you were slowly falling in love with the little thing. Maybe this was Akatosh’s punishment for your coupling with the First Dragonborn.

“It doesn’t have to be threatening love.” He playfully chided, practically purring whenever you fully embraced his side. It amazes you how he managed to stay so warm, it had to be the Atmoran blood. “Just has to be fitting and..her new mother has to approve of course.”

“Mother...?” Your eyes were now wide as well, lips apart as you processed. Maybe you were dragon enough after all, as much as he was at least. “So are you the father now?” The question came out oddly playful considering you were still feeling from shock.

“Well of course I am. Besides...” He paused, his smile widening to the point of exposing his scruff covered dimples as the baby dragon began its trek up his body in search for additional warmth. “Besides, i’ll need all the practice I can get.”

“Hmm..practice for what?” Now your interest was completely piqued.

“For when I end up putting a nestling of our own in your belly.” “WHAT??” To this he laughed, a lovely pink blush on the tip of his nose and a mischievous glimmer in his eyes as he winked.

Divines preserve you.

#skyrim #miraak #miraak x ldb #miraak skyrim #baby dragons

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txtdiaries · 4 years

Text

Void - Chapter Two

SUMMARY | Amidst your world shattering to pieces, the boy you met long ago manages to fit everything back together again. Also - zombies. Lots and lots of zombies.

PAIRING | Yeonjun X Reader feat. TXT

CATEGORY | apocalypse au, end of the world, survival, angst, romance, enemies to lovers, slow burn, etc.

WORD COUNT | 2.8k

WARNINGS | dark content, swearing, gore, weapon possession, etc.

A/N | So this isn’t that long and I kinda don’t really like it but I hope some of you enjoy it at least. It also hasn’t rlly been proofread so uhhh we’ll see how that goes. Chapter 3 up soon!

SONG REC | Blood In The Cut (Aire Atlantica Remix) - K.Flay

Preview / Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three

The tension in the jeep is thick as the girl in the trunk compartment thrashes and screams, her legs jolting forward to kick at the seats ahead and hands struggling to pull apart her rope restraints. Her attempt falls flat due to the tight knots in the rope and the tape around her mouth, but she still tries.

It’s not an ideal situation – Yeonjun knows– but neither is being stuck in a different country with an empty tank of gas, so hey. Every man for themself, right?

He tries to ignore the feeling of guilt pooling at the bottom of his stomach as he glances down at the now full gas gauge that gleams back at him; instead, he eases onto the pedal below his boot. At least now they don’t have to worry about not making it to the next stop - because of this, the situation is that much more bearable.

Even though he feels like shit for wasting tape, rope, and time on the girl, he tries to keep telling himself that it’s not his fault. If anything, it’s hers. If she had just left them all alone in the first place, none of them would be stuck in this situation, and it would be a hell of a lot less awkward. Just as he is thinking this, he hears Soobin speak up from the back.

“This would be a lot easier if we couldn’t see or hear her, dude.” He is seated right next to the girl, and his hands are gripping onto her shoulders tightly to try and get her to stop moving. Although Soobin is definitely stronger than the girl, she still struggles. Yeonjun has to give her props for her perseverance. After a second, he focuses his gaze back in front of him and steers the jeep back onto the road; still not responding to his friend.

“You’re going to get tired if you keep doing that,” Soobin finally talks to the girl after a few more minutes of her annoying movements, voice low so he doesn’t bother anyone else in the car, “Stop moving so much. I won’t hurt you, you know.”

“Stop talking to her.” The eldest snaps from the front, irritated now because he can feel a headache coming on, but also because he doesn’t like Soobin being so close to her. He doesn’t know why, but something about it just bugs him. After a few more rounds of worrying about the fact that they practically kidnapped the girl – no, she did it to herself – he decides to just force himself to stop thinking about it. If he dwells on anything anymore, he knows for a fact that he will drive himself fucking insane.

He takes a deep breath and finally accelerates, pushing the speedometer to 85 before setting the cruise control. He takes an experimental glance in the rearview to “check to make sure there’s nothing behind them” but looks away when he sees what he was curious about the whole time.

The girl has given up on her struggling and lets out a defeated huff before slumping her body against Soobin’s. Yeonjun doesn’t let himself stare for long – he rips his gaze away from the two and focuses back on the road after a few seconds.

He feels it in his bones: It is going to be a very long drive.

After a few hours of his tunnel vision taking up most of his attention, Yeonjun finally decides that it is time to take a break. He feels the tension in his shoulders and arms when he slightly flexes them, and then sighs. A few miles back there was a sign signifying a rest stop, and Yeonjun feels a little more relaxed when it appears in the distance, slowly getting closer and closer.

“We’re going to stop for a break.” He announces, noticing that his words wake a few of the other passengers in the car. The eldest angles the wheel slightly, preparing to merge off the road so they can pull onto the off ramp and move toward the rest stop. From what he can see, the brick building is cracked and falling apart, but it is still standing.

Yeonjun glances in the rearview again – a habit he’s kept up from his years of driving (always check your mirrors before making any movement into another lane, especially on highways, his old driving instructor had taught him) - but he wishes he hadn’t, just this once. It’s not that he needs to anymore, given the end of the world and all, but it seems old habits die hard. More than anything, he wishes they wouldn’t.

Rested upon Soobin’s shoulder is the girl who’s name he still doesn’t know, eyes closed as she sleeps deeply. His best friend’s head is rested atop hers as well, and he’s gazing outside the window silently, letting her rest where she is. Yeonjun feels his stomach twist with jealousy, and he doesn’t know why he can’t stomp it down this time. Hell, he doesn’t even know why he’s feeling it. The whole thing makes him feel sick.

Soobin softly nudges the girl awake and whispers something to her, and Yeonjun takes this as his opportunity to focus on parking. He’d rather get decked in the throat than have to witness that again.

After he puts the jeep in park and everyone else piles out of the cramped car, Yeonjun pops the trunk and makes his way back to it to help the girl out.

“I’ve got it.” Soobin says once he realizes his friend’s intensions, arm already secured around her waist. Yeonjun shakes his head and awkwardly pries his hand off of her, the same hand wrapping around her wrist after, “It’s all good, you already had to deal with her sleeping on you. I’ll take her to the bathroom; you stay with the boys.”

“Hyung, I have to pee.” The youngest of the group says in a whiny voice, bouncing on the heels of his feet impatiently before giving him a desperate look. Yeonjun almost laughs.

“Okay, Soobin, take him to the men’s room. Tae, stay with Beom. You all know the drill. Five minutes tops and be back here on time.”

The boys all nod in agreement and the eldest is glad no one argues, not wasting anymore time before pulling the girl gently along with him toward the vacant, disheveled building.

“Do you have to go to the bathroom?” He asks her softly once they have turned around the brick wall leading to the bathrooms and separating them from the other boys. He angles his head down as he speaks to her, trying to get a better look. She shakes her head and tries to speak, but she can’t, given the tape covering her lips. The blue-haired boys leads her through the doorway into the bathroom he is sure she finds equally as disgusting as he does, and looks at her again. He doesn’t have to say anything, he just gives her a look to stay put as he carefully checks each individual stall in the room, and then finally makes his way back over once he knows they are alone.

“I’m going to take the tape off of your mouth and untie you, but please don’t try running. I promise, the most it’ll get you is a zombie bite to the body or another one of my friends catching you. Just stay, alright?”

The girl sighs and nods at him. He hesitates before biting his lip and nodding back, squatting easily to remove the restraints around her ankles. After he’s done, he undoes the ones around her wrists, and finally, stands to his full height to study her face.

The boy can feel his heart beating in his chest as he carefully pinches the corner of the tape in-between his pointer digit and thumb, and he winces with the girl as he tries to pull it off of her as gently as possible. He notices the slight whine that leaves her lips when he rips off the final part, and he’s only just looked up into her eyes for about a second before her voice is echoing loudly against the bathroom walls.

“You absolute fucking dickhead!”

Yeonjun takes an instinctive step back before standing up straight, her outburst truthfully startling him.

“I-“

“Don’t talk!” She snaps, still continuing her outburst. Yeonjun’s blood runs cold.

“I don’t even know where to start. First you steal my gas, and then you kidnap me, and then you have the fucking audacity to ask me if I have to go to the bathroom in this disgusting rest stop? Oh my god-” She runs her hands through her hair and groans loudly, tilting her head back up toward Yeonjun before glaring, “What is wrong with you!? Didn’t your mother ever teach you manners?”

Truthfully, the blue-haired boy doesn’t know what to say to the girl. She’s livid, that’s fucking obvious, but even more so, she looks terrified. Yeonjun feels the guilt now, it’s full force and clawing its way up through his throat. If he could apologize in a way he knew she’d accept, he would.

“You didn’t exactly give me any choice.” He says to the girl, voice as soft as possible, scared he’ll piss her off even more if he raises it. It seems it doesn’t really matter anyway, because she is still fuming with anger when she speaks again.

“That is bullshit!” Her voice is so loud, Yeonjun is scared that the boys outside might hear it.

“I really think you should-” She cuts him off.

“Don’t tell me what to do! How idiotic can someone be!?”

“Listen, I really think you might want to-”

“How many times do I have to tell you to-!”

She freezes when she sees the absolute look of horror on Yeonjun’s face.

She turns toward the entrance where he is looking and she feels fear run through her veins.

A zombie, skin rotting and insides hanging halfway out of its stomach turns the corner of the wall, separating the two of them from it, as it limps slowly and curiously toward the bathroom entrance.

The girl can barely react before Yeonjun is grabbing her arm and dragging her to the left, into one of the small, cramped stalls before he locks it behind them.

The girl meets his eyes as his hand clamps down over her mouth. She wants to cry, and he wants to scream, because they both realize the same thing in the exact same moment; Yeonjun forgot his fucking baseball bat.

It is deadly quiet in the bathroom when they hear the heavy, unnatural footsteps echo on the tile, and Yeonjun has to keep telling himself that it is fine. That they won’t die in this gross bathroom because he’s an idiot who got distracted, and that they won’t be zombie dinner in the next couple of seconds because his priorities lied in the girl instead of in his weapon. His fear suddenly turns to anger when the girl rips his hand away from her mouth and leans up to speak into his ear, voice so low Yeonjun has to hold his breath to hear it.

“This is your fault, asshole.”

“How is this my fault? I’m not the one who was screaming so loud Utah could hear it!” He whisper-shouts in the same manner, using the knowledge of the map he had studied earlier to make his point. He’s blaming her, but he knows the fault isn’t just on her. It’s on the both of them.

The girl rolls her eyes, but before she can reply, a low, guttural growl echoes out through the bathroom.

The noise sends her curling into Yeonjun’s chest, gripping onto his shoulders for dear life. She’s scared, he suddenly realizes. The girl with the tempter and killer attitude is scared, and it’s his fault.

“Hey…” He suddenly says to her, his anger melting away almost like water running down a tap, voice softening around the edges as he leans in closer to the girl. His guilt from earlier increases tenfold.

“It’s going to be fine...” He says to her quietly, slowly and silently sinking their bodies down to the ground with the girl still against him. He knows if he can see under the gap in the stall door, he can time their escape. All he has to do is wait until the undead figure’s body is in the right position.

“Now’s not the time to make a move.” The girl whispers sarcastically, voice shaking even though she’s trying to sound tough. Yeonjun rests a hand on her hair comfortingly, even though all he really needs her to do is stop talking.

“I’m serious, I know you’re tall and have cool hair and all that, but don’t think that’s grounds for-“

“Shut up.” The boy growls into her ear, voice as low as she’s ever heard it thus far, causing her mouth to snap shut instantly. She hates that she found that hot.

The two are silent again, waiting for the footsteps to do anything but come closer. It is only once the girl repositions awkwardly, does Yeonjun realize how close she really is. Her entire front is pressed up against his, with her leg even thrown over his hip as she sits awkwardly, and he can’t move. He wants to clear his throat, do anything to relieve the tension he is feeling, but he can’t.

He can’t move, until the footsteps suddenly stop.

He’s only just made eye contact with the girl wrapped up around him before a loud, deafening bang causes the stall door to concave in momentarily, the lock barely holding it closed. It rings in their ears as another growl emits from the zombie, and then Yeonjun feels his body spring into action. He quickly removes the bandana tied securely around his wrist and flings it under the stall, as far away from the two of them as possible.

The screaming figure launches itself toward the movement, and Yeonjun pushes them both up, flicking the lock before realizing he is carrying the girl around his waist and halfway in his arms. He doesn’t have time to do anything except run as fast as he can out of the bathroom, both him and the girl in his arms breathing heavily in fear as they escape. At this point, he can’t tell if the zombie is screaming or if he is.

Once they’re outside the bathroom, he drops the girl onto both legs and they race to the Jeep, Yeonjun only speaking after they’re close enough, and his members can hear him. He knows the figure is on their heels just by the smell.

“BEOMGYU. BAT, NOW.”

Yeonjun doesn’t have to clarify as his friend’s eyes go wide and he sees the chaos happening before him. Two running figures and a rotting dead corpse following close behind, so enraged it looks like it might kill all of them if it got the chance. He doesn’t hesitate.

Beomgyu quickly pulls the blue-haired boy’s bat from between the seats and under-hands it toward him. Yeonjun catches it skillfully before spinning his body in its tracks, launching forward before the hard aluminum comes in contact with the zombie’s face, its scream muffled once the blow impacts its frontal skull.

Yeonjun doesn’t have to put as much force into flooring the body as he does, but he just chalks it up to anger and irritation. Finally, once the dust settles and his hands stop shaking, Yeonjun is left panting heavily. It was close. Far too close for his comfort.

Everyone is silent, until the girl speaks again.

“Are you… uh-“

She doesn’t know how to word any of this, and she can see just how stressed out the boy is. She feels like it’s her fault – she knows it is – and now it’s her turn to feel guilty.

“Two hundred six.” Yeonjun says lowly, his voice almost lost in the wind as he drops the top of the bat onto the dirt and keeps hold of the handle. He takes another deep breath before turning and walking slowly back to the car, weapon dragging behind him.

“I’m-“

He doesn’t stop to listen to what the girl has to say, only walks past her silently before making his way back into the driver’s seat. The rest of the boys are silent as they follow suit. They all ignore the girl, until she finally speaks up again.

“Hey, uh… Beomgyu?” She’s talking to the blonde who opens the passenger side door, only looking at her out of surprise when he realizes she’s talking to him. She doesn’t know how good her excuse will be, but she knows she has to apologize to the eldest boy, and there is only one way to do it.

“I almost got mauled by a zombie, I think I deserve shot gun.”

#void #txtdiaries #yeonjun #choi yeonjun #yeonjun au #yeonjun scenario #yeonjun fic #yeonjun angst #yeonjun fanfiction #tomorrow x together au #tomorrow x together fic #tomorrow x together #tomorrow by together #tomorrow x together angst #yeonjun imagine #yeonjun drabble #choi yeonjun au #txt

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