oh my hot take of the day is that if you block someone it should prevent them from using your gifs and/or you should be able to turn off the ability to find your gifs in the search

Why I think Nocturne is way better than the OG Castlevania series

Sorry, when I try to shut up about this show I be like

so here’s my unsolicited, highly biased word vomit that will contain spoilers at the end (but those will be under a cut) so read at your own risk! Okay, leggo

It’s actually diverse.

One thing about high fantasy is that it’s almost always Eurocentric. Even if it’s not set in Europe, the characters are gonna inexplicably have British accents because we associate that with high fantasy. We’re gonna have European style “old” clothing choices. And if everyone isn’t white, they might as well be because they’ll only throw in a couple ambiguously brown side characters and call it a day. Or if they make a main character a POC then best believe everyone around them will be white.

Nocturne, tho? Oh, you can tell it’s made with more than just a sprinkle of representation. They didn’t just make Olrox indigenous, they tied his Aztec lineage in beautifully. Annette was a slave but it’s not flattening her character because of it. Drolta came to slay but even she has her authentic background. Which leads me to my next point!

The Black characters especially are done tastefully.

Like… don’t get me wrong. I love Isaac. He was the only reason I stayed tuned into Castlevania past season 1, LMAO! But his backstory felt like straight trauma porn cooked up by a non-Black person who wanted an excuse to see a Black man whipped for character development.

Zodwa Nyoni wrote some episodes for Nocturne and she put her FOOT in it. When it came to addressing Annette’s time as a slave, her connection to the Orisha through her bloodline… I was gobsmacked at how accurate everything was and now I know why LOL! Like, for me, it’s always gonna be hard to see slavery in fiction but I can’t say shit bad about how it was tied into everything in this show. Annette’s ancestors play such a huge part in her growth and it just warmed my heart to see a Black girl whoop some colonizer ass without it feeling hamfisted. 🥹

The token relationship is the cishet one, everyone else is gay asf

I love that trope flipped on it’s head, ngl LMAO! I, by default, HC everyone as bi anyway but MAN was it nice to see Olrox and Mizrak speedrun enemies to lovers and a hint of Drolta’s devotion/gayness to Erzsebet.

I know the majority of my fictional character thirsting leans male but don’t get it twisted; I jump for JOY for gay shit in media 😂 The only reason I don’t thirst as hard for female characters is because I prefer my men fictional but my women real.

That being said, this series sent me into bi panic and I’d like to be manhandled in a room by Drolta and Olrox.

Nocturne’s first season plays out neater than the OG’s first season.

Like… okay. My main beef with the OG series was that after they defeated Dracula, the rest of the show felt like a meandering fanfic. Sure, there were a few badass moments, but the energy kinda faltered for me and I was bored with a lot of it. I hope they don’t do the same with Nocturne; they left off at a nice cliffhanger which builds anticipation for the next season and… idk it feels more cohesive already? They coulda speedran kicking Erzsebet’s face in like the OG trio did to Dracula but I’m so glad they left us a lil something to look forward to.

Alucard’s glow up >>>>>

I’m chronically online but I’m so glad I went into this series blind because the way I GASPEDT when he showed up at the end

Like damn for the past fifty-leven years he was in that castle by himself going “do I wanna talk to Sypha and Trevor plushies again or do I wanna make myself even more of a bad bitch?” Then he chose the latter, went to the salon, got his hair bleached platinum along with some sew in extensions for volume, beat his face with Fenty, and said “sorry Drolta but there can be only one vampire baddie on this earth and hunny I’m TAKIN IT”

He looks more like his video game design this way too, which I love! I hate that he took out Cuntress McSlay tho 😔 Drolta I will always love you!!

Mmkay. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to start a cult to Olrox real quick. Erzsebet ain’t the only god walking the earth and I feel he just needs good marketing!

Embrace the Cringe

23-04-2023, 12:00 am

(This is an article I wrote for my INTJ boyfriend who doesn’t like to do “cringe” things like romance, affection & emotions lmao. As an INFP dedicated to the cringe along with my ENFP friendo, we decided to write articles convincing him. Here’s mine! If you're tsundere like him, this may help you a little 😌💞)

-----x

Person A demonstrating cringe: "Aww I wuv you my snuggle pookie bear, your tushy is so mushy I’m gonna smooch it all over!! Watch out, the smooch monster is closing in!!! Mwah mwah mwahhhh"

Person B making it worse: "Uwaaa save me!! I’m drowning in the smooch bombs! >0<"

Me, you, everyone who's watching: "Uhhhh *vomits inside and chokes*"

Chances are, while reading the above disaster you either smiled uncomfortably, felt an icky chill, or made a face reminiscent of biting into a sour lemon. What you may not know is that the physical response of the body in moments of cringe actually betrays a much deeper fear within us. 

You might assume that we “cringe” at other people because they’re acting in socially unacceptable ways, that our bodies are rejecting their behavior. And you’re correct! The reason we like to make our bodies smaller, want to curl up inside and disappear in the presence of cringe is because we view it as a Social Evaluative Threat and want to be as far/invisible as possible so it can’t be tied back to us. 

A social evaluative threat is any situation, person, or thing that carries the risk of being negatively judged, shunned, and rejected by society. Something which may be *evaluated* by *society* as a *threat*, if you wanna think of it that way. Our biology understands its danger to our survival, hence the cringe, hence refusing to be a part of that behavior. There u go, I just validated your horror of cringe using science. Now let me debunk it again >:3

Just because you’re scared or disgusted of something doesn’t mean it actually poses a danger to you. The body will often lie to us- just think of a panic attack before a school presentation or running away from invisible demons to a well-lit bedroom after turning off the kitchen light. Are you going to die? No. Will people throw tomatoes at you at the speed of a bullet for stuttering during your speech? No, maybe they’ll laugh but laughter is harmless and you’ll live another day. Will Satan himself emerge from the darkness and make you his sex slave because you turned off the light and didn’t run to safety fast enough? No, but if he did I would say yes, he has big dick energy- 

THE POINT BEING, cringing at another person means they’re putting themselves in the spotlight of social rejection, and you don’t want to join them… you’re afraid of the same rejection (or maybe genuinely agree they’re a disgrace to society and it’s not a question of association lmao). Cringing doesn’t necessitate however, that you truly, TRULY despise their actions or even find them actually worthy of getting marginalized by society. In fact, you may even admire them deep down, feel amazed and awed at how this person is able to express themselves so openly in the face of possible judgment whereas you can’t imagine putting yourself in that position. You’re shrinking inwards because you are in fact imagining yourself in that position and embarrassed of it. What you call “cringe” might be “brave”, “authentic”, “real”, “free”.

When you're feeling cringe, what you're really feeling is empathy. In empathy, there is room for understanding, room for acceptance. 

It’s not always that you don’t want to participate in cute baby talk with your girlfriend, or that you don’t want to join the drunk extroverts on the dance floor, or that you don’t want to say I love you to a friend, or that you don’t want to write “mommy” in the comments like all the other horny simps… maybe you want to, you just feel that you can’t, that you shouldn’t.     

I know you love and encourage my infp weirdness, [bf’s name], even when it’s cringy to us both. And I love and encourage your weird, edgy, and grumpy self, even if it’s cringy to us both. Because at the end of the day we admire the other’s ability to be themselves, we hold the other’s authenticity in high regard. We wouldn’t have it any other way.

Me embracing your cringe doesn’t mean me becoming you. I stay who I am. But I dote over your cringe and accept it wholeheartedly as a very real, very special, very vulnerable part of you. I'm honored to see it. When [enfp friend] and I scream at you to embrace the cringe, we don’t mean becoming us. You can stay who you are if you like. But you don’t have to reject it only because you’re afraid that’s how you’re supposed to act and can’t be caught liking it. You don’t have to hold yourself back from joining us and putting your cringe at full display too.  

You already know all this ofc (smort hubby), but nonetheless, perhaps this will help redefine cringe in your mind as something bold, rebellious, maybe even an agent of truth in the sea of rules and conformity. Not as something unacceptable, but as something… harmless, innocuous, merely a threat to the part of you that still cares what people think. 

HA I DID AN UNO REVERSE CARD!! *evil laughs* ok bye

I LOVE your writing, do you have any advice for new writers?

hello !!! thank you so much anon <333 truly means so much to me 🎀🩷

I’m definitely not the best person for advice because I (to my detriment - looking at you months long hiatus) I mostly wing it but there are a few things I think are good to keep in mind,

1. might seem stupid but have fun !! and remember that you’re writing for fun. Write fics because they excite you and they’re something you want to see. Don’t get caught up in the numbers and worrying about what people will think, I thought Plastic Crown would literally be read by like ten people max because it was so absurd but (and I’m so unbelievably grateful seriously everyone who enjoys that fic,, i love u, i would fight your enemies in a mcdonald’s parking lot) I was wrong.

I mean, take with a grain of salt since every fic I wrote is drowning in self indulgence but still. Fanfic is fun! So have fun with it.

2. Super hypocritical but storyboard !! I’m currently experiencing the worst fkn writers block because I didn’t and now i’m trying to get everything planned before I update lmao

Another thing that saved me and actually got me stared in writing was my notes app. i’d put excerpts from fics I was reading that I felt really captured the vibe I wanted to create between or within characters. Random pieces of dialogue. details and just vague prompts and it’s a lifesaver.

3. Going back to point one kinda, try not to compare your fics to other people’s. That goes for Stats, reviews, writing styles, all of it. It’s pointless, fic is totally subjective and everyone’s gonna have their own vibe so just stick to working on yours.

4. Try and make stuff for your fic, seriously Pinterest boards, collages, gif sets, spotify playlists. Build up the world you wanna write about so it’s something that you feel you can just step into. Make it visceral and exciting even if it’s just exciting to you.

5. have like a drink or something that you associate with writing, for me it’s pink monster energy but for the sake of your heart maybe pick something different. like tea or anything not drowning in vague chemicals and caffeine. Can be anything like a candle, a playlist, just something to get in the vibe.

6. Talk about your fics, friends are a lifesaver in fandom, I cannot tell you how many times @vorpalmuchness and @katherineholmes have helped me figure something out just by letting my talk at them until something clicks. Vorpal in particular has suffered through that many many times (ily bestie ty for the face times)

7. and finally, write badly. seriously, just word vomit into a google doc if you’re struggling. Atleast then you have a jumping off point. It’s so rarely going to be a slam dunk on your first try so just,, do it. Get it out, get the vibe and run with it

Anyway, thank you so much for the ask anon. I hope atleast some of this helps xx

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you @wanderingblindly I love love LOVE answering these!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Just five! I haven’t actually published very many (obviously) but maybe I will in the future :-)

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

40,450 apparently!!

3. Which fandoms do you write for?

These days, just F1 RPF. I used to write for other fandoms (the other published fics on my AO3 are for The Arcana, if any of y’all know that lol)

4. Which are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Given that I literally have five published…

- fallingforyou (random Lestappen word vomit)

- Enchanted (Lando’s Version) (little Landoscar drabble thing)

- The Magician (The Arcana - I wrote this one unemployed summer, mostly while wine drunk, aged maybe 22)

- Grimoire (The Arcana)

- Eridanus (The Arcana - this had potential but I never finished it teehee)

5. Do you reply to your comments? Why or why not?

YES! I don’t get very many, and appreciate each and every one! It makes me feel validated ngl 😅 i love engaging with other people who have things to say about something I create. Like, that’s so cool right?!

6. Which of your fics has the angstiest ending?

Honestly, none of them. I’m a sucker for a happy ending, so I will be tying up all loose ends to finish my fics. Maybe I’ll say Enchanted (Lando’s Version) purely because it doesn’t really have an ending - just a “perhaps”.

7. Which of your fics has the happiest ending?

I guess fallingforyou. I think it ends on a fairly hopeful note.

8. Do you get hate on your fics?

Not so far! I don’t think I have enough of an audience to generate hate comments, so I’m grateful for that lol

9. Do you write smut?

I do! Not necessarily very well, mind. It’s not often very dirty, more romantic smut. Is that a thing? It is now.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Nope. That’s some big brained behaviour and simply is not for me. I can’t keep up with one fandom, let alone multiple lmao much respect to those of y’all who manage it!!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge. Like I say, I don’t think I have enough reach.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope - for reasons above!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Not really. Although I help out my beloved Lola ( @twinkodium ) on hers, if that counts

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

LAWD i do not have one 💀 currently Lestappen or Brocedes (thanks to @like-pilot-lights for that one hehe)

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but probably never will?

Like In Karting, my Lestappen passage of time daydream. Will I ever get to the end? Probably not! Do I love it dearly? Absolutely!

16. What are your writing strengths?

Openings. Like, first lines. I can introduce a scene like nobody’s business. Just don’t ask me to finish it.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Pacing. I desperately want to just get to the point, which makes my fics feel rushed. Pls help me fix this.

18. What are your thoughts on writing in other languages in fics?

Besties i don’t even write well in English 💀 I feel like a lot of the time, it serves no great purpose. Especially if it’s randomly inserted google translate phrases that nobody speaking that language would ever actually use.

19. What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

I guess like Harry Potter or One Direction, circa 2010 lol

20. What’s your favourite fic that you’ve written?

One that I published anonymously of the Dead Dove: Do Not Eat variety. I love it so much - it’s genuinely the only fic of mine that I read back and actually enjoy. I usually just publish my work and leave it there.

Of the fics actually associated with me, I suppose fallingforyou? I dunno. I actually hate both of my recent ones soooo

I don’t know who hasn’t been tagged yet, so I’m tagging @twinkodium and @lestappenforever because I love you both and I love your work and I wanna hear everything y’all have to say :’)

Hit the wasps nest: Gale Hawthorne

This is just word vomit 😅

I honestly don’t dislike Gale at all but I have many a thoughts on the man and it’s difficult to explain the juxtaposition I’m in with him. He’s strong and sturdy and a good person at his core but he is very pushy and too stubborn and immature (which is fine!!! He’s like 18-19 throughout the story, he’s still a teenager, but like, accept the immaturity people!!!) and it’s not the greatest qualities in combination with Katniss’ personality. My hot takes are pretty much this.

He didn’t actually commit a crime with those bombs because he was tricked by Coin and used and abused but like, also welcome to the club, bro??? Leaders used and abused Kat Kat and Peeta and Haymitch and Finnick long before Gale so like, you’re finally at their level I guess? He spent a lot of Mockingjay acting like he understood what it was like to fight in a Hunger Games and he just didn’t, until he got to the end and you know what??? That’s called character arc and it wasn’t a bad one? So here’s my hot take: he wasn’t screwed over by Suzanne, he didn’t get a bad ending, he just didn’t get the girl? Like he ain’t a war criminal but it’s 1000000 valid that Katniss would never wanna see his face again???? I wouldn’t??? Association would be too strong for me, even if rational I’m aware it’s not his fault. So his ending isn’t bad, but if you read between the lines of all the books, Katniss very clearly loved Peeta in a way she never felt for Gale. Gale or no Gale, she was very confused about her feelings for Peeta, and she would have been even without any love triangle business. Gale got my on nerves more because he just like added to her confusion, but then also it’s understandable probably because I was a teen when I read the books initially and it definitely resonated with the boys I knew at school who made everything “what about me!!!” So anyways I have a juxtaposition with my feelings for him because like he’s got a good heart at his core but he’s also pretty irritating at other points and both antis and lovers of Mr. Haw Haw ignore that I feel???

My other hot takes for him : he doesn’t love Prim like his own sister???? That’s the weirdest headcanon-taken-as-canon I’ve ever heard? If that’s your headcanon, then okay great!!! But that’s not canon and I’ve seen several people say that like it’s totally there in the books and it’s not?? Gale protected Katniss’ family because they were hers, not because they were part of his. I mean I’m sure he cared to some degree for them, he’s a good person like I keep reiterating, but not like they were his own??? When he killed Prim, I’m sure he was sad because he cared for the kid, but his dialogue to Katniss makes it seem like his biggest thought process revolved around losing her because of his inadvertent involvement with the bombs. Okay and ummm another hot take, people should get to dislike him if they wanna. Too much politeness in terms of Gale, like if you like him then cool! But like the fear of saying you dislike him or you think he’s bad (as a character, not a war criminal) isn’t right, like I dislike 100000 characters and I ain’t afraid to say it. Anyways that’s all I can think of for now.

Oh wait one more : the book was written clearly with a bias towards Peeta, it was obvious that’s who she was gonna end up with so like??? Gale didn’t get a bad ending for the character he was, he was just never the one, he was never gonna get Katniss, even just looking at the plot layout this is clear. Peeta and Katniss go into the games together, fake a romance to survive, develop feelings and backtrack, go home winners and enemies of the Capitol, feelings are sore and complicated, Galers takes it into his own hands to add himself to the mix, Katniss feels caught between the two, Gale almost dies and she picks him in theory but never in practice I’m sorry, Katniss and Peeta are called back into the games where she decides to save Peeta and die for him, she gets closer and closer to Peeta, she realizes her feelings on the beach, they get separated and a rebellion starts, he’s in the Capitol, she’s in Thirteen with Gale, Gale and her spend a lot more time together but their friendship ain’t what it used to be, she frets about Peeta until she has to be sedated, Gale volunteers to rescue Peeta because he cares for Katniss’ wellbeing, Peeta though has been brainwashed and tries to murder Katniss (he really should have apologized, like is it that hard to make an “I’m sorry” card with all your free time between frosting cakes, Peeta?????), Katniss gives up Peeta and starts having more of a thing with Gale, then Peeta is brought along on her team and she’s stuck being in proximity to both of them but she focuses much heavier on Peeta’s presence (in negative ways mostly but still), she comes to a crossroads and instead of leaving Peeta to die she chooses to risk her life by kissing his wildin out self to save him, she then says bye bye to Peeta and goes with Gale into the Capitol Circle to kill Snow but gets separated from him and then watches her sister die, only to find out later on that Gale created the bombs that were used to kill Prim, then she has a nervous breakdown and a trial and then gets tossed off in Twelve like a garbage bag at the end of a McDonald’s shift, and then Peeta returns and sparks her back to life… in all of that plot summary, it was pretty obvious who had a bigger part in the overall story…. This shouldn’t be controversial to say.

Recently, I talked a lot about the Leviathan and its strange similarities with the MF and things surrounding the MF. SO yes, this is yet another insane mindflayer theory post (Crowd booing, screaming, hissing, throwing objects at me) But since I write my own insane little stories I like to gather up a lot of different sources of inspo for the characters in them and the Leviathan is only one for the MF. I’m NOT gonna get on my greek god shit with you guys-- I mean maybe I will but I’m going to try not to-- but another source of inspo for me with the MF is Khaeos or Chaos. Going back to how I already mentioned the Leviathan is also considered a god of chaos and how all that applies, this is another SOMETHING I think about in regards to the MF and how it might have a vague relation as well.  So heres some fun stuff I’m copy pasting about this that and the other because I am not about to free write all this I just wanna share some shit. 

Chaos was – most Greek cosmologies tell us – the very first of all, the origin of everything, the empty, unfathomable space at the beginning of time. But, it was more than just a gaping void – as its name is usually translated from Ancient Greek. Personified as a female, Chaos was the primal feature of the universe, a shadowy realm of mass and energy from which much of what is powerful (and mostly negative and dark) in the world would stem forth in later genealogies.

With the advent of philosophy, Chaos became more of a concept than a deity, described as “a shapeless heap” and “a rude and undeveloped mass” by the Roman poet Ovid. It was then that it started being associated with notions such as confusion and disorder, out of which the modern English term “chaos” derives. But, by that time, metaphorical imagery succumbed to more rational worldviews, and mythology gave way to religion and science.

Visual similarities: 

An a quote from Stephen Fry because its hot. 

“Was Chaos a god — a divine being — or simply a state of nothingness? Or was Chaos, just as we would use the word today, a kind of terrible mess, like a teenager’s bedroom only worse? Think of Chaos perhaps as a kind of grand cosmic yawn. As in a yawning chasm or a yawning void. Whether Chaos brought life and substance out of nothing or whether Chaos yawned life up or dreamed it up, or conjured it up in some other way, I don’t know. I wasn’t there. Nor were you. And yet in a way we were, because all the bits that make us were there. It is enough to say that the Greeks thought it was Chaos who, with a massive heave, or a great shrug, or hiccup, vomit, or cough, began the long chain of creation that has ended with pelicans and penicillin and toadstools and toads, sea lions, seals, lions, human beings, and daffodils and murder and art and love and confusion and death and madness and biscuits.

Whatever the truth, science today agrees that everything is destined to return to Chaos. It calls this inevitable fate entropy: part of the great cycle from Chaos to order and back again to Chaos. Your trousers began as chaotic atoms that somehow coalesced into matter that ordered itself over eons into a living substance that slowly evolved into a cotton plant that was woven into the handsome stuff that sheathes your lovely legs. In time you will abandon your trousers — not now, I hope — and they will rot down in a landfill or be burned. In either case their matter will at length be set free to become part of the atmosphere of the planet. And when the sun explodes and takes every particle of this world with it, including the ingredients of your trousers, all the constituent atoms will return to cold Chaos. And what is true for your trousers is of course true for you. So the Chaos that began everything is also the Chaos that will end everything.” 

Another “entity” I’ve mentioned before that I take heavy inspo from that I feel like relates heavily to the MF is Azathoth from H.P Lovecraft’s works, which we know the Duffer brothers took reference from so it could be likely that the MF does take inspo from this same place in canon.  

Azathoth is a powerful “outer god” (meaning it exists between dimensions) said to have created the multiverse, the nameless mist, and darkness. Azathoth is so powerful that the “Great Old Ones” can't destroy him, instead they can only put him in a sleep like state. Also due to  Azathoth’s constant “dream-like” state, Azathoth mostly interacts with things in a semi-subconscious, psychic manner. Because of this, it tends to have a “demon servant/messenger”, its own “son”, a fellow ‘outer-god’ who sometimes ALSO manipulates Azathoth in return: 

“August Derleth portrayed Azathoth as being similar to Lucifer from Christian theology, warring against the Elder Gods and being rendered blind and witless by them before being banished from creation by their magic. At some point in the future after the second coming of Nyarlathotep, Azathoth and his armies will return and all of the entire creation will be destroyed.  Despite being mindless, Azathoth does have a will of his own and commands his messenger and avatar, Nyarlathotep.

PLUS  “Nyarlathotep is an evil Outer God who is seen as a shapeshifting agent of madness, chaos and ruin who serves the other Outer Gods, specifically his father, Azathoth, the Blind Idiot God, to whom he is subservient, fulfilling his wishes without question as his messenger and emissary, though he sometimes enjoys manipulating his master.” 

Some assert that the Daemon Sultan was not always an Idiot Chaos; instead, he lost his intellect and body in a great intercosmic battle, in which he may have been thrust entirely outside this dimension. This interpretation is only found within a few works, though. Lovecraft referred to Azathoth in “The Whisperer in Darkness” (1931), where the narrator relates that he “started with loathing when told of the monstrous nuclear chaos beyond angled space which the Necronomicon had mercifully cloaked under the name of Azathoth”. 

How this relates to Vecna and the MF to me? The MF is suggested to have psychically communed with Henry in his childhood and is suggested to be the source of his power and could have possibly subconsciously coached him given Henry suddenly seemed to know things it feels odd for the little boy in the 50s from a seemingly ‘upstanding’ middle-upper class white Christian house hold to be knowing. And I think there could be a parallel here to when Will is possessed by the mindflayer in season 2 and he talks about how he suddenly knows things, things that he didn't know before but he doesn't know how he knows them. I imagine henry encountered a similar phenomenon when he was linked to the mindflayer entity in his childhood, which may have even came with similar visions of it to what Will had. 

Henry is also shown to “shape” the formless chaos of the MF into a more comprehensible and pleasing form, although whether or not this was Henry’s idea exclusively or possibly more subconscious suggestion from the MF isn’t entirely clear given Henry’s weirdly accurate childhood drawing. None the less, Vecna could certainly be seen as the MF’s ‘avatar,’ its right hand, its will, its messenger, its general, the once human intermediary.

On the flip side, the MF being the source of Henry’s power and the “MEANS” for his transformation from human to lich-demi-god and a vehicle for his revenge against the world that wronged him. So in this way their relationship appears as if it could be very much symbiotic and not one sided at all, nor the behavior of a single intelligent consciousness. 

I also think the descriptions of “nuclear” relate to the MF in the sense that its probably likely we can consider the MF as the “center” of the Upside Down and the “hub” of the hive-mind, the central MOST IMPORTANT part of “the group”, forming the basis for its activity and growth, just like an actual nucleus. And IF Henry is the “brain” then I think it can be inferred that the MF is, in this way, “the heart” and both are playing near ‘equal’ roles in the body of the UD and its invasion into Hawkins.  Though I think its also worth taking note of the canon suggestion found in Will’s drawing that the big bad the party are facing off against is a beast with MORE THAN ONE HEAD. The multiple headed hydra dragon. 

And here are some visual similarities between the MF and depictions of  Azathoth which, IMO, are very striking. 

Ronald Shea enters a temple after visiting the forest near Goatswood and discovers a twenty-foot idol that "represented the god Azathoth--Azathoth as he had been before his exile. Outside, It consisted of a bivalvular shell supported on many pairs of flexible legs. From the half-open shell rose several jointed cylinders, tipped with polypous appendages; and in the darkness inside the shell I thought I saw a horrible bestial, mouthless face, with deep-sunk eyes and covered with glistening black hair."

Later Shae sees "something ooze into the corridor--a pale grey shape, expanding and crinkling, which glistened and shook gelatinously as still-moving particles dropped free; but it was only a glimpse"

Some fun trivia about that I think is interesting is this also: Mythos editor Robert M. Price argues that Lovecraft could have combined the biblical names Anathoth (Jeremiah's home town) and Azazel (a desert demon to which the scapegoat was sacrificed - mentioned by Lovecraft in "The Dunwich Horror"). Price also points to the alchemical term "Azoth", which was used in the title of a book by Arthur Edward Waite, the model for the wizard Ephraim Waite in Lovecraft's "The Thing on the Doorstep". Other possible inspirations include the name Thoth, the ancient Egyptian god of wisdom.

More visual similarities FT the “gates” : 

Finally, cool pic of Azathoth devouring the world: 

Lovebirds.

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 |  omg this is my first request. ilysm anon, im now feelin super cool. also, i just realized i put recc (as in recommended) instead of requests. i’m super stupid LOL. anyways, im touch starved too dw bby, i’m servin u up a long one since i rlly like this request and after all u r my first! 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Gojo x Wife! Reader 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 2307 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | None! 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | Coming home from a long mission in America, precisely 1 year, you’re excited to catch up on Gojo’s students, Nanami, and just Gojo in general.   Leaning out of the car window, resting your arm against your purse, you sighed. A humid wind brushed against your skin, tickling you. It had been quite a while since you had been in Japan, spending almost a year on a huge mission in America. You had killed a battalion worthy amount of special grades.   You spent most of your time in America in mostly horribly rundown places, equally as infested with curses. Although you found yourself enjoying America’s natural beauty, further away from the city life that many of the Americans found themselves enjoying, you much preferred Japan. after all, it was your home, and where you met Gojo Satoru. It would be another day until you could return, and you had gone through hundreds of scenarios of finally being in his arms again, but nonetheless, you were ecstatic at the thought of your husband’s touch.   Your phone’s notification chimed loudly, you threw your phone onto the other seat, heart jumping up to a high rate. It was a recording of Satoru loudly yelling, “OPEN YOUR FUCKING PHONE!” with a flurry of giggles afterwards.    Ijichi jumped, turning left and right. Whispering under his breath, he let out an exasperated sigh, switching the music channel.    The recording was mostly because of the time you had to ghost him due to work. Gojo had snuck on and recorded it, doing some magical tech stuff and giving you the custom notification sound. You had kept it that way ever since, since secretly, you enjoyed that you were so badly wanted by Gojo, that, and you had no idea how to change it back.    But the custom notification was sweet as well.   You smiled to yourself every time you heard it, a familiar twinge of pain flashing inside of you whenever you realized you wouldn’t be able to see him for a while.   Well, today, and the days after that would be different. You’d be able to finally see Gojo again, and his new students that he always frantically texted you about. Nanami, an old friend of Gojo, and also an old friend of yours, would also be there to welcome you back, you found yourself reminiscing about them.   You had heard so much about them, one of the kids being Sukuna’s vessel, you wondered how Gojo could contain such a fear, being around the kid at all times, he always told you about how the kid was actually energetic and happy and an overall great kid, you had heard about Nanami, finally coming back into the jujutsu sorcerer field of work, even though you always found that he still had a thing for finances.   You shook your head, “Save that shit for later, (Y/N).” muttering to yourself, you didn’t want to think of anything but Gojo, after all, it had been one fucking year of being deprived of the man you loved most. You were practically starving for the guy, in more ways than one.   Ijichi gulped, facing towards you, one hand on his steering wheel, “Forgive me Mrs. Satoru, but um.. Forgive me if I misheard, but I think I heard your phones notification go off.. Due to the ah- incredibly loud profanity.”   Now just realizing that you had completely forgotten about the phone notification, you nodded your thanks to Ijichi, a warmth rushing to your cheeks before opening up your phone.    In the small, rounded box containing Gojo’s message, he wrote in all caps, “SUGAR, MY BELOVED, MY QUEEN, HOW CLOSE ARE YOU? I CAN’T FUCKING WAIT I’M LITERALLY BOUNCING UP AND DOWN IN OUR BED.”   Smiling to yourself, you furiously texted back, “Calm down honeybun, I’ll be there in like, 24 hours, I’m not even fucking close.”   You almost instantly got a DM back, making you jump a bit in your seat. Even with the 5 years of friendship, and the 3 years of relationship, and the 2 years of marriage, he still almost always texted you back as quickly as possible.   “God I can’t fucking wait for you to meet the kids! We’ll keep it a surprise, yeah? We have a bunch of treats, and we also got the kids to get some gifts for you! How thoughtful aren’t they? They’re MY offspring by the way, so like, you know, whenever you want a kid, it’s your call ;)”   You snorted to yourself, smiling. He genuinely seemed so excited, and it was all shining through even though it was from a screen.    “Maybe in a few years, I don’t even wanna imagine a little you.”   Despite the excited, bubbling feeling brewing bigger and bigger in your stomach, you figured it’d be best to sleep before the chaos. Happily sighing, you laid down, using your purse as a pillow, drifting into a blissful sleep.  ‧₊˚✩彡.   You awoke to a sudden halt, Looking around your surroundings, you figured you were home. Ijichi looked like he was damn near about to fall asleep on the steering wheel.   Well, maybe that’s what 24 hours of constant driving did to you. You fished around in your purse, silently cursing looking for a water bottle.   “Here, Ijichi, looks like you ran a marathon.” you grinned, handing the slightly crumped water bottle to him.   He beamed as if a guardian angel had descended down and gave him a trillion dollars.   “Mrs. Satoru! You really mean it? The ride was nothing, I was merely instructed to do so and I would’ve done it happily regardless.”   You waved your hand, as a dismissal of the conversation. “You overwork yourself Ijichi, go catch a break, on me. If Gojo tears you apart, tell him he won’t be getting any pussy from me for another year.”   Ichiji nodded vigorously, before dashing off, probably towards a massage center, God that guy needed it. ‧₊˚✩彡.    Gojo frantically hopped up and down, it had been a day, now he was just waiting for you to bust through the door in your wild hair, his legs sprawled onto the whole of a couch, he stared at the ceiling, a dopey smile spread across his face.     “Satoru. (Y/N) will not even want to be associated with you, looking at your current state.” he remarked, staring at the sorcerer with his strikingly dead eyes.     “Nanami, how the fuck am I supposed to act calm?! I’ve waited for this moment for ONE YEAR! Does my hair look normal?!”    “Your hair looks just like an albino porcupine, just as usual.” Flipping the page of his newspaper, he sighed, rubbing his temples. “I will never understand how someone like (Y/N) would be.. Interested in you, Satoru.”     Gojo paid no attention to the insult Nanami had so clearly made, his ears were perked up, eavesdropping on a distant conversation coming closer and closer.     “Gojo-Senpai was telling me about this movie while training my cursed energy! He basically spoiled the whole thing but he told me that the main character was super annoying but apparently she dies in the end in the most gruesome way possible! It’s worth the watch, your soul will feel cleansed as soon as you see her lifeless body!”     “Yuuji, you literally spoiled the whole thing to me just now.” Fushiguro calmly stated, looking bored out of his mind.     “Oh, oops.” Yuuji rubbed the back of his neck. He smiled coyly, tightly hugging his present.    “What’s with the decorations, Gojo-Sensei?” inquired Nobara, stroking her warm toned brown hair. She had figured it was something about the presents that Gojo had forced the trio to get, but he never told them who it was for.    The room had been decorated with various balloons and confetti, scattered about, on the table and the ground. A cake box wrapped with a gigantic bow limply guarded whoever was brave enough to get their hands on something that Gojo seemed to be protecting with his life.    A pink table cover with a crudely drawn Gojo and what would seem to be a girl, a heart in the middle of the pair. In a horrible font with an even awfuller text, the text on top and at the bottom of the drawing proudly stated:    “WELCOME BACK QT”    “-YOU’RE HUSBAND AND THE CREW”    Nobara stood in distaste, trying to disguise the face she made. The drawing, the misused you’re, and the overall poor design choice was enough to almost make her vomit.     Nobara, about to make her distasteful statements about the whole mess, was suddenly shut up as Gojo started hopping up and down, looking directly at his phone.   “SHE’S COMING! SHE’S COMING! EVERYONE IN YOUR PLACES!”    Now, seeing Gojo freak out wasn’t outside of the ordinary, but it was to see him freak out to this extent. He was hopping up and down, blabbering about a certain woman named (Y/N). Nobara was pretty sure that if a curse attacked right now, even a special grade comparable to the one with the uncomplete domain could completely crush Gojo, the guy seemed completely unaware of the example he was setting to the kids. Even Yuuji stood in disbelief, and he had seen multiple tantrums by Gojo.   Nanami, however, licked his finger and flipped the newspaper page. A face of boredom obviously displayed.     Nobara, preparing herself to chew Gojo out about how utterly stupid and embarrassing he made the whole class of jujutsu sorcerers look like, stopped wide eyed as she looked at the doors slide wide open. ‧₊˚✩彡.    You stood, shyly, looking at the ground. Gojo dove headfirst into your arms, laughing like a maniac and digging his face into your shoulder. You breathed in his scent, scanning the room.     Three teens, sat wide-eyed, backs straight as they looked at you with eyes you couldn’t quite read. All three of them held presents.     The one with eyelids underneath his eyes (which you assumed was Yuuji, the vessel of Sukuna) eyed you curiously, his eye twitched.     The other boy, one with wild black-blue hair, sat mouth agape, before closing it. He looked like he was about to say something, before stopping entirely and hugging his present closer to his chest.    The warm haired girl darted her eyes between you two, seemingly trying to put the puzzle together.     Nanami put the newspaper down, glancing over to you two.    “This is obviously Gojo-Senpai’s wife. He hasn’t seen her in many months, and as you can see, really really misses her.” he paused, a small smile spreading on his face, a rare sight.     “I don’t even know why myself, but what can you do with lovebirds?” he thought aloud, his attention now focused to the two of you furiously making out, hands in places Yuuji and the crew didn’t need to see.    “Satoru, (Y/N), leave the kissing for later. Don’t you see the kids?”     You detached yourself from his mouth, panting for breath. The air being exhaled out of his nose fanned over your face, you had just now realized the kids again.     “Satoru, lets sit down. I bet the kids are surprised. “ you motioned to the couch. Gojo whined.     “What? They’re not that dumb, they can tell you’re my wife or at least, you’re my girlfriend, just by the way we kiss right? Isn’t this telling enough?”     “You didn’t tell them about me, ever did you?”     He sighed in defeat, holding tightly onto your arm as you dragged him over and sat down on the comfortable couch, opposite of Yuuji and the crew. Nanami scooched over, before finally getting up to pull another chair from somewhere else. Grunting, he excused himself from the room.     “YOU HAD A GIRLFRIEND, GOJO-SENPAI? AND DIDN’T TELL US?” Yuuji questioned, looking like he was about to faint.    Gojo laughed, snuggling deeper onto you, almost like a koala.     “She’s my wife, aren’t you, sugar? Did you even pay attention to anything Nanami said? He literally said she was my wife.”     Megumi made an obvious gagging sound, but even he didn’t seem as bored as he was usually. He actually looked intrigued.     “Why didn’t you tell us, Gojo-Senpai?” the girl nagged, slamming her fist down on the table.     Gojo smiled, “Uh, well, I wanted it to be a surprise when she came back.”     “Couldn’t you have told us that you had a wife or something?” Megumi butt in.    The door slid open, Nanami coming in with a wooden stool.     “Knowing Gojo-Senpai, that probably went over his head.” grunting as he placed the wooden stool down and sat, he opened his newspaper again.     “Where do you guys know eachother?”    “Was Gojo-Senpai handsome back in highschool too?”    “Do you know what lipgloss Gojo-Senpai wears?”    “Gojo-Senpai, how did you know you loved her?”     “Gojo-Senpai, can we eat now?”     “Do you know why Gojo has such a horrible sweet tooth?”      Before you could even respond, Nanami put his hand up.     “Now, now, lets let the happy couple settle down.” he cleard his throat, not even making eye contact with anyone but the newspaper.     An audible chorus of groans sounded, “What do you expect us to do? We literally just met her!” moaned Yuuji.    “Weren’t you the one that literally asked if we could eat yet?”    Yuuji immediately shut up afterwards.     “Yuuji, she just came back from a 1 day trip. She should be laying down comfortably with Gojo-Senpai and they should be catching up. You’ll have the opportunity to talk to her and learn about her later. Right now she needs space.”    “But-” Nobara whined, clasping her hands together.    Nanami turned to Fushiguro, but even he had his mind set. “I didn’t even begin to think that Gojo had a wife. I really want to know more about her, if you think about it, this is all Gojo-Sensei’s fault.”    Nanami rubbed his temples, staring at the two of you for backup, realizing that you two were making out again.    Nanami sighed, 10 years later and you two were still the same.    

Ian growing his first tomatoes and being proud of himself really excited to share them with Mickey and cooking with them everyday. But what he doesn't know is that tomatoes don't agree with Mickey. They upset his stomach and make him feel sick. He loves seeing Ian so happy and proud of himself so he doesn't tell him and eats everything he makes him. Ian eventually realizes what's going on. A prompt if you'd like to write it

Content Warnings: food, vomit

The first time it happened, Mickey assumed it was a coincidence. 

Ian had been so fucking excited for his first tomato crop; he'd spent ages looking up recipes, running ideas past anyone who would listen, and scrounging through old boxed from the house to look for weird cooking shit.  He had beamed when the day of his first harvest finally came, carrying those little red fruits in his big hands so carefully that you'd be forgiven for thinking them infants, or puppies, or some other fragile living thing.

So after an hour of Ian washing, slicing, and cooking up his new pride and joy, there was no way in he'll Mickey was going to ruin his husband's happy smile by telling him that just the smell of dinner was making his stomach churn.

It was probably nothing, he told himself, choking down bite after bite, letting out agreeable little hums after each one just to add to the sparkle in Ian's eyes.

Maybe lunch wasn't sitting well; he should have known not to eat anything offered by the Alibi, even under new management (especially under new management).  That had to be it.  There was no way it had anything to do with the dish Ian had painstakingly made from ingredients so fresh they had still been on the vine just hours before.

So Mickey swallowed his bile with the last bite on his plate, asked for seconds, and ate that too.  Then he made his excuses, ran down to the little restroom off the gym, and threw it all up where Ian wouldn't have to see.  He ignored the visible seeds and flecks of red tomato skin as he flushed the evidence away.

Just a coincidence, that was all.  Next time would go better.

The second time it happened, Mickey thought that maybe Ian was just a bad cook.  Ian's courage had been bolstered by his "successful" first attempt, apparently, because this time he went all out.  He'd even traded one of his precious tomatoes for some fresh herbs from the plot next to his in the community garden, just to make it special.

And special it was.  A special he'll, more like, when Mickey nearly voided his bowels an hour later on their new sofa.  He leapt up and made it to the bathroom just in time, and spent the next thirty minutes trying to quietly take care of things so Ian wouldn't hear.

Of course, Ian did hear, and he just had to ask about it.  They were getting ready for bed, Mickey tugging on a too-large sleep shirt from a pile of Ian's laundry, when a hand landed lightly on his waist.

"Feeling better?" Ian asked softly, rubbing soothing circles into the stretched skin of Mickey's sore belly.

"Uh, yeah," Mickey hedged, not wanting to reveal his lingering discomfort.  "It's nothing, really."

"You sure?" Ian asked, pressing closer against his back as his hand migrated to rest over Mickey's chest.  "You can tell me if something made you sick, you know," he said.  "I won't take it personally."

If he wasn't used to Ian hitting close to home while having absolutely no knowledge of what he was talking about, Mickey might have wondered then if his husband was catching on.

But it was an innocent enough question, after all.

"Nah, man," he said, pulling away to sit on the bed.  "Probably picked up a bug on our rounds or something."

Ian looked unconvinced, biting his lip, and Mickey rushed to reassure him.

"I'm be right as rain tomorrow," he promised.  "Just you watch."

Ian hesitated, but ultimately nodded, and joined him in bed.  He curled just a little tighter around Mickey than normal, hand resting carefully on his stomach.

It wasn't a lie, Mickey figured as he waited for sleep to claim him.  He would be fine by morning.  And next time, he'd do the cooking himself, just in case, and then this couldn't happen again.

By the third time, just the next morning, Mickey finally had to admit what he dreaded all along: it really was the goddamned tomatoes.

He’d made the omelets himself, using normal ingredients they got from the store, all things he had eaten before.  He’d mixed in some diced tomato, just for flavor, and because he knew Ian would like it.

And like it Ian did.  His husband was chowing down like someone might take away his plate if he didn’t eat fast enough, barely stopping to sip at his coffee, while Mickey sat silently across from him.

The first bite of his eggs had already almost done him in, the taste of the tomato now forever associated with stomach cramps and bile and bloating.  He knew there was no way for it to be effecting him already, but his stomach clenched when he tried to lift another bite to his lips, and he set down his fork with a clatter.

Ian stopped eating.

“Everything okay, Mickey?” he asked, concerned.  “You’ve barely touched your breakfast.”

“What are you lookin’ at my breakfast for?” Mickey deflected.  “Eyes on your own fuckin’ plate, you’ve got yours.”

Ian obediently ducked his head, but still managed to catch Mickey poking a chunk of tomato away from everything else on his plate.

“You don’t like the tomato?” he asked, ignoring Mickey’s exasperated sigh at his interference.  “I think they really add something.”

“Love them,” Mickey answered with a forced, toothy smile.  “Just saving the best for last.”  He stabbed at the tomato with his fork, spearing it, and lifted it to his lips to make a point.

“Yum,” he said around it as he chewed and forced himself to swallow.  “See?  Delic--”

Then he was up, away from the table, and running to the kitchen sink as it came right back up.

“Mickey, what the fuck?” Ian yelled, his chair sliding back with a screech as he hurried to join Mickey at the counter.

“Sorry,” Mickey managed, head still down, as Ian rubbed his back.  “Think something’s wrong with me; didn’t mean to waste it.”

Ian’s hand stilled.

“Waste it?” he asked.  “Mickey, what are talking about?”

“The tomatoes, Ian,” Mickey sighed.  “I know you’re fuckin’ proud of ‘em or whatever, but I just can’t keep ‘em down.”

“Can’t keep them...” Ian started, then stopped.  His hand fell away, only to reappear on the back of Mickey’s neck, forcing his to lift his head and look at him.

“Mickey,” Ian said firmly.  “How long has this been going on?”

Mickey didn’t answer.  Ian shook him, just lightly, then winced when it set him retching again into the stainless steel sink.

“How long have my tomatoes been making you sick, Mickey?” he asked again, quieter, and Mickey finally gave in.

“Few days,” he muttered, and Ian let go of him completely.

“A few--Mickey, it’s only been a few days.  And I’ve been putting them in everything.”

Ian sounded worried, almost distraught, and that was exactly what Mickey had been trying to avoid.

“No, it’s fine,” he insisted, pushing away from the sink.  He forced himself to swallow past the burning bile in his throat.  “I’m not some fuckin’ pussy-ass kid, Gallagher, I know how to work through a fuckin’ stomach ache.”

If anything, that only made Ian look more concerned.

“I know you do, Mick,” he said.  “But why the hell did you think you had to?  Terry’s gone, we’re doing good; you know you don’t need to do shit like that anymore.”

Oh.  

“You’re not upset?” Mickey asked, just to clarify, and Ian rubbed a hand over his face.

“Of course I’m upset, Mickey,” he sighed.  “You lied to me for days because what, you didn’t want to look weak?”

“No,” Mickey said.  “Cause I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

Ian took a deep breath.

“Mickey,” he said slowly.  “I promise my feelings aren’t hurt just because you can’t stomach tomatoes.  It really wouldn’t have been a big deal.”

Mickey shrugged.  “I should be able to, though,” he said.  “Ketchup, soup, fucking pasta--I eat all that no problem, and we just had extra sauce on our pizza last week.  It’s just...”

He hesitated to say it out loud.

“Just my tomatoes,” Ian finished for him.  ‘Right.”

Ian took a step forward, and took Mickey’s hand.  He guided him back over to the table, sat him down--moving his plate away so he didn’t have to look at it--and joined him there.

“Mickey,” he started.  “Maybe it’s not just that.”  Mickey bit his lip, figuring that Ian cared more than he let on if he wanted to find some other excuse, but what his husband said next surprised him.

“I mean,” Ian continued, “it’s not like either of us had a lot of fresh ingredients around growing up.”

Well, he was right about that.

“And really fresh stuff, not processed, none of the preservative shit we’ve been eating our whole lives...well, it’s not your fault that your system doesn’t know what to do with it.”

“Still wish I could eat it,” Mickey grumbled, feeling a little better in spite of himself.  “It makes you so happy, man, and I had to go and ruin it.”

Ian laughed.

“You didn’t ruin anything, you idiot,” he said fondly.  “But next time I want to try something new, maybe we’ll take it a little slower, yeah?”

Mickey nodded.

“And maybe,” Ian added, “You’ll tell me there’s a problem before you puke all over our dishes.”

Mickey looked over to the sink, where sure enough, the majority of their dishes were piles and waiting to be washed, now needing it more than ever.

Oops.

“At least they were already dirty?” he said, and Ian smiled.

“Yeah,” he agreed.  “At least there’s that.”

He leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to Mickey’s head.  Then he grabbed up Mickey’s unfinished breakfast and a fork.

“Really, Gallagher?” Mickey asked.  “You still wanna eat after that?”

“Why not?” Ian answered, mouth already full.  “Besides, if you don’t like it,” he added, a stray piece of egg clinging to the side of his mouth, “then all the more for me.”

It was Mickey’s turn to grin, even as he watched the gruesome show that was Ian trying to eat.

Tomatoes or not, table manners or not, he really loved that man.

Waking Up In Vegas

spencer reid x reader

request: prompts 87 (boop), 88 (that's such a bad idea- lets do it), 89 (Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool), 96 (I'm not crying, you are.) by anon

word count: 1.7k

warnings: Mentions of drug addiction, heavy drinking and blackout, that's it.

author's note: I've had this in my inbox for months, and I'm so sorry I didn't finish it sooner. Also, what do you want to see from my blog, it seems like I only post once a week for my fics and that's a no go from me.

~~~

The light was too loud- that's a wonderful thing to think when you remember nothing of the night before. You groaned and sat up, seeing that you were in a large bed with white covers. You scratched your head and looked around, noticing that the bedboard behind you was a large pink heart.

Looking down you realize that you're wearing a sequined red bikini top and a skirt scarf combo with booty shorts underneath. Drunk you does not have good fashion sense.

Before you can notice anything else, you start to feel puke crawling up your throat and you immediately run and vomit all your guts up.

You rinse your mouth out and notice that the blanket mound you left has shifted, and you become wary and pick up a heavy brass candlestick.

And then the lump rolls over, and it's your goddamn coworker.

"Reid?"

He startles and wakes up, staring at you and then glancing down at himself- huh, there was something wrong about that picture, but you couldn't figure out what it was just yet.

"y/n? What are you doing in my hotel room?" He pauses, looks around, then mutters under his breath "this isn't my hotel room."

He looks up at you "Since when are you married?"

"I'm not," You look down at your hand, noticing a giant red ruby adorning your ring finger "I am."

You look down at his hand and notice that he is too, "And so are you."

You and Spencer look around your room, both badly masking paranoia and panic. Both of your eyes stop when you notice a picture frame in the corner- a wedding certificate.

"Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool. This is fine, no big deal, just a marriage certificate," You move over and pick it up "with both of our names on it."

"Okay, this is okay, this is fine," Spencer says, sitting back down on the bed stunned.

"So, we're married, which is a thing that happened, last night, that you definitely remember." You say, sitting down next to your newly revealed husband.

"I don't remember."

"How do you not remember? You have super memory powers!"

"This is an excellent first fight to have as a married couple, of course, you blame me." He says, standing up and shrugging.

You meet his stance "Of course I blame you! You're the smart one!"

"Oh, well Agent, I wasn't aware that you had an IQ of 25!" He pauses "25 is the number associated by Henry H. Goodard to be an idiot, it's actually-"

"I know!" You exclaim, seething with half-hearted rage.

"You know, your the one who got an addict drunk!"

"Your vice isn't alcohol! If I drugged you I'd be a monster! You ordered that first bloody mary all by yourself, and those shots we did were totally consensual!!!"

He looked up at you "you remember that?"

You think, and notice memories that you didn't know were there, "um, yeah, bits and pieces."

From the expression he makes, he looks to be remembered more too. You and your new husband sit down and let it all hit you.

~~~

"4 tequila shots please." You wave down the bartender.

You're already buzzed, but you and Spencer were just getting warmed up. Morgan and Garcia left hours ago to go to a fancy restaurant, Rossi was planted firmly at the poker table, Hotch was nowhere to be seen, JJ had gone home to be with Henry, and Emily was at a "sin to win" night at some casino that you already knew too much about just by hearing the name.

So that leaves you and Spencer at the bar in the only casino in town he wasn't banned from.

At first, you were concerned about him drinking, but once he reassured that alcohol isn't his way of self-medicating, you were okay. Besides, if you saw any red flags, you would throw his ass in rehab faster than you can say 'gin'.

So, you were 5 drinks in and having the time of your lives, showing off battle scars and laughing. God, his eyes were pretty.

"Your eyes are so pretty!" You giggled "like soooooo pretty, woooooooow."

He laughed and looked back at you "your skin is pretty, like in a non-serial killer way, it's really pretty."

"Thank you, just don't kill me for it."

"I just called no murder!" He whined "besides, how am I sure you won't kill me and scoop my eyes out?"

"Because that's gross." You said, rolling your eyes.

"And stealing your skin isn't?"

"You can' have my skin!" You say, mock running away.

He laughs, and looks directly into your eyes, and smiles, wow, he was pretty. Morgan was right.

"Hey, do you wanna get out of here?" Spencer asks you.

"Yeah, let's get ice cream!" You grab his hand, and it feels natural through your foggy brain.

After stumbling through the ice cream parlor, full of people who were trying to pretend like they weren't. Spencer got butter pecan, and you got sherbert and chocolate.

You stumbled out of the store, giggling to yourself and Spencer.

God, you loved him. So you told him.

"I love you." He stopped in his tracks, and you almost tripped on a bicycle rack.

"Really?" He whispers.

All of the giggles are gone.

"I love you."

The ice cream is long forgotten, his on the ground, and half of yours on your clothes and half next to his on the ground. All that's left is your faces inching closer to each other.

When your lips meet it feels like firecrackers going off inside your head.

His mouth is soft, gently contrasting with your soft lips. His tongue sneaks into your mouth, your smile around his.

"Let's get married." He pulls apart from you, out of breath.

You stay silent for a moment, before looking up and directly into his chocolate brown eyes "That is such a bad idea-"

He diverts his eyes and scratches the back of his skull "Um, yeah, that's okay, let's-"

"Let's do it."

He looks back at you, and you grab his body and kiss him.

~~~

Sometimes people can be happy, you realize as an elderly woman ties a sash around your waist.

You have to be honest, you never thought this was gonna be how you were gonna get married. Hell, you weren't sure if you were gonna get married at all. But certainly not like this. Certainly not at 1 am to your coworker 7 drinks in at a cheap roadside attraction.

Definitely not like this.

But something about this weirdness felt like the only way anything ever would've made any sense.

There was something about the outfit you were wearing that was perfect, a bright red bra covered in sequins underneath a top with buttons and poofy sleeves that showed off a lot of your chest, a wrap-around cheap white silk skirt with jeans shorts underneath. And of course purple open-toed boots. Perfect.

Marrying Spencer Reid is like a fever dream. A perfect man with perfect hair and perfect eyes. So of course you were giggling like crazy while they put the cheap crown with pink tulle serving as a veil on your head.

Your witnesses were an elderly couple, of course, you wanted to have your best friends there, but knowing them they'd try to talk you out, and believe me, there was no way you wanted out of it.

"Now's time dear," the woman exclaims, gently patting you on the shoulder and leading you out of the fitting room and towards the chapel.

The owner of the business hooks his arm around yours and leads you into the chapel, church bells from an iPod attached to a speaker ringing out into the air.

Spencer turns around the air visibly leaves his lungs when you make eye contact. The chapel you two had chosen in this drunken haze was costume-themed, and he was wearing an ancient Rome costume that fit the time where his favorite philosopher, so even though no one else noticed, you could tell he was dressed as Gaius.

His hair had been attempted to slick back, but little curls were popping up all over the place instead. He was wringing his hands tightly and bouncing his knee, god you couldn't wait to marry him.

The elderly man who had led you to the alter places you next to Spencer, you couldn't focus on anything but your soon-to-be-husband.

Spencer takes his hands and gently pulls your veil up from around your face, and a tear trickles out of his eyes as he sees you. You smile and notice his nerves, try to calm the love of your life down "boop", you gently tap his nose and he smiles in comfort.

The officiant drones on and on about love but you can't hear him, all you can focus on is his love-filled eyes.

"Do you take Spencer Reid to be your husband?"

Your eyes snap out of their daze and you say with the most certainty than you have ever said anything: "I do."

"And do you take (y/n) (y/l/n) to be your life partner for as long as you may live?"

"I do," And you feel more wanted than you ever have in your life, he wants you, Spencer wants you.

~~~

You and Spencer sit on your bed in stunned silence, neither believing that last night had really happened. You look over at your apparent husband and notice tears streaming down his face.

"You're crying." You say, your voice coming out as a chocked whisper.

"I'm not crying, you are." You look down and notice that your shirt is soaked in tears.

"Oh." You take a deep breath and look into his eyes. "So, what do you want to do?"

"Get an annulment?" He doesn't look completely happy about his answer and stares into your eyes for reassurance.

You take a deep breath and stare off into the distance, out into a world that would be so much better if you were married to Spencer Reid. "I don't want that."

You look back at him to meet his eyes, "Me neither."

"I love you, a lot, and I want to be married to you." Spencer smiles, and you feel wanted and safe and loved.

Instead of saying it back, he kissed you with a passion that was way more descriptive than simple words. Spencer is your husband and you love him, he loves you, and you are finally wanted.

~~

My Masterlist

Requests are open!

~Taglists are open~

Permanent Tags: @natasha-danvers​

Marvel:

Criminal Minds:

constant craving 03 | jjk

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader

[other members - seokjin]

⇢ genre: drabble series, ANGST, bestfriend!au, unrequited love, the same idiocy just in a different font 

⇢ word count: 4k

⇢ warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption (drunk jungkook makes his first and final appearance enjoy it while you can), vehicular misdemeanor (drive the speed limit kids), an all out emotional and verbal brawling, a lack of communication on one end and a communicational vomit on the other, seokjin appearance for about .02 seconds, the entirety of this is just.... angst

⇢ summary: your dates with Seokjin had become a somewhat consistent fixture in your schedule, however, jungkook's itinerary seemed to clash with yours when he called you after a night of drinking for reasons you assumed to be him helplessly pleading for a safe return home.

♪ playlist: constant craving - k.d. lang, bad religion - frank ocean, misunderstood - lucky daye, neu roses - daniel caesar ♪

╰ series index: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 (final)

a/n: whew, okay.... this was probably the most argumentative fic i have ever written so prepare yourself. i hope you all enjoy this god awfully angsty installment of the series! also, yes, jungkook is a sentimental drunk and you all know it

part three: i love you

It's true. It's always the biggest pills that are the most difficult to swallow. And if you could compare someone as elusive as Jungkook to anything, it would be the largest pill imaginable. The kind that hurts the first try, then when you drink half your body weight in water, the Jungkook-emblazoned pill forces down your esophagus no easier than the first gulp. You were still holding it in your mouth, pretending that pill wasn't about to dissolve and stain your mouth forever.

And that was the whole process, just to get over Jungkook. Because getting over him wasn't a one-step program. It was waking up everyday, training and retraining your mind not to think of him first thing in the morning. It was resisting the urge to press the send button on multiple texts and funny videos you knew would make him laugh. It was refusing his calls and every memory that would saunter in your mind and compel you to ask him to watch a movie or order takeout.

It was saying yes to Seokjin when he asked you on a date. And, it was doing your best to sever that instinct of yours to ask Jungkook for advice.

But old habits die hard, and this one still clung onto the bit of breath it wielded. That explained why your idiot of a best friend was sitting on your couch, offering half-hearted nods whenever you would walk out draped in a new outfit.

"Okay, this one?" You twirled around, as if doing so would make you any less skeptical of how you looked. And you were never one to scrutinize your appearance so closely, but this was the date. The one that might light the torch to a brighter romantic future and lead you to someone other than the man who could never be yours to begin with.

"Yeah. Cool." At this point, five outfits in, he wasn't paying any attention at all. He couldn't even bring himself to pretend, his eyes lazily fixed onto your dvd player.

"Jungkook, you didn't even look! Let me guess. You wanna play video games. Is that why you're giving fuck-me-eyes to my T.V. set?" You knew a laugh was far along, but you hoped that would get some sort of reaction out of him. Unfortunately, your words were barely registered for a good ten seconds, though, it felt much longer.

"Hm? Oh, sorry. Just tired, I guess." Jungkook said through barely parted lips. You knew when he couldn't even pronounce his words properly, something he took more seriously than others due to the hauntings of a certain speech impediment, there was definitely something wrong.

Things felt off from the moment he walked into your house. Judging from the way he avoided your hug, that alone suggested a sort of imbalance. It was a casual greeting exchanged between the two of you so often that when you lifted your arms to embrace him, it was born of reflexive association. Like Pavlov's dog, trained to hug him the moment you saw him. But the oddity of him almost discretely walking past you before any contact could be made wasn't where the tension bordered.

Following his arrival, he would have littered a few snarky remarks about how messy your kitchen was, while already scavenging through your fridge, just to get a rouse out of you. And Jungkook wouldn't call himself a connoisseur of all things fabric and fashion, but he surely would have a few thoughts consisting more than two-worded responses. But he just sat on your couch, armed with a face any poker player would commend, and gave you insincere cool's or nice's when need be.

"Okay, what's up? Is it Irene?" You sat down since taking a break to figure out what Jungkook was thinking felt better than continuing your self-absorbed fashion show.

"Kinda... We broke up. Well, she broke up with me or... I don't know. It was weird." It bothered you a bit too much that he didn't even look at you. But if he had, then you would have seen a film of red dousing his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Kook. Is there anything I can do? Anything at all? Want me to egg her house?" This time, he did laugh. You felt relieved he could at least ease slightly back into his expressive self, even if it was just a fraction of what he usually was. A fraction of Jungkook was more than enough for you.

"Nah, no need to go to jail for me. It's not like I didn't see it coming, and apparently she felt the same. Whatever." He let out a sigh that sounded trapped in for a while, then sat up. "We have more important things to worry about."

"I'm sorry, but I don't believe that. Jungkook, literally a week ago you told me she was the love of your life! And now you're just like 'yeah, whatever, I saw it coming.'" You used your notorious 'man voice', which was just yours lowered a few octaves, knowing it would crack another smile along Jungkook's lips. "Come on, I know you love her. This must hurt a lot. I wish... I wish there was something I could do."

You knew exactly what you were doing. Self-sabotage under the guise of consoling your friend. Clearly, it was selfish and regressive to use Jungkook's heartbreak as a means to avoid doing what you could never do before, what you knew deep down you probably would never be able to do: swallow that pill. And what felt even more pathetic than that was the stale, yet persisting hope that he would ask you to stay.

And that's when reality gave you the most gutting and obvious sign. Jungkook was your best friend, the man you had to lug home when he was too drunk to drive, let alone speak coherently or stand. He was the person that buys you ice cream when you're sad, but just as quick to cancel plans with you when Irene needed him. He was just a friend. You'd never be the person he chose, and it nearly made you angry at him for not seeing it all this time.

So, what he said next made everything he was most likely unaware of all too clear to you.

"No, you go have fun. I'll just... chill here?" It was his avoidant way of asking to stay the night, because you knew him to never sleep alone when he had an ache in his heart. "Maybe raid your pantry and use your Netflix account to binge some shows?"

"Fine. Only 'cause I can't say no to you when you're like this." His smile was reimbursement enough for all the food you'd have to restock and the electricity bill that would be higher than usual.

But what he did next, you could almost never forgive him for. It was so subtle, as though it could have passed as an accident or an act he was trying to perform secretly, without any intention of you even noticing. And how could you not notice? The far too temporary and entirely disarming linger of his hand on yours.

Now, you were always one to decipher his most subtle mannerisms, but this one felt beyond the reins of your perceptiveness. It could have been a small gesture of a thank you, but the gentle, and what one could even describe as sentimental, way his skin pressed against yours bore no semblance of a mere expression of gratitude. And it wasn't possible this was a caress of love, because he was already low on currency in that field, spending it completely on Irene.

So, what was it?

How would you describe the way he rested his hand on yours, as if asking you to stay without words, yet punctuating it quick enough to justify it a coincidental form of contact, that your hand just happened to be where his hand was?

"Well, I'm gonna go eat through my problems." Jungkook stood up before you could bat away the wetness in your eyes from your momentary refusal to blink, as if that would somehow help you visualize the meaning of what just happened.

"Oh- Okay. I, um... I should get going." So you did. You walked out your door, and made a decision beyond the demands of your devotion to Jungkook.

Because it probably meant nothing, and he was your best friend, after all.

---

It was easy with Seokjin. And surprisingly enough, that wasn't a bad thing.

You had come to realize everyone craves that passionate kind of love because, in the movies, that's the blueprint for what love should feel like. But that's all it is, something pretty and shiny enough to work into a film. Make believe. And it could never extend beyond the realm of silver screens, where best friends don't magically fall in love and passion awarded more broken hearts than you could count.

Besides, your heart was worn.

See, your heart is a muscle. It works itself to the bone keeping you alive, willing your lungs to breathe, administering blood to each vein and so on. To strain it for someone who was already in love was functionally inefficient. The heart, like any other muscle, grows tired. It can exhaust itself the same way your hand aches after writing for too long.

You needed a break from the gripping emotional aerobics that is and was loving Jeon Jungkook. So, it sufficed that Seokjin was easy. No more overexertion, no more aches and pains and residual soreness occupying your chest, no more of any of that. Because you knew Seokjin liked you, which was safe and easy knowing there was no point mapping out the possible meanings of every inflected word or shrug or smile. They were simply words and shrugs and smiles with him.

And yet, the thing about giving your heart a 'break' is the period succeeding it. When you were finished resting, you knew who would be waiting for you. Who you would always wait for.

"___! Hello?! I can't hear you! It's too loud!" It wasn't really that loud, your idiot of a best friend was just that drunk. You couldn't tell what concerned you more, the fact that his hearing degenerated when he was, from the sound of it, seven shots deep or that this was the third of alcohol-induced call for this week.

"Where are you?" You asked through a sigh, eyes trained on your Twitter feed and ears occupied with the urgent voice blaring through the speaker phone.

And since it was the third time this week, you were not even half-amused by the repetitive stunt he was pulling.

"I don't know... I walked out and now I'm out and I don't know." The hiccup following his messy sentence was comically textbook 'too drunk'. “Hey, we should take a trip! We should, like, go somewhere!”

“The only place you should be going is home.”

“See, I would totally do that, but I have no idea where I am. Why are these street signs so hard to read?” The end and beginning of each word blended together, rendering that sentence one long, slurred word.

By now, the step by step plan synthesized by you had been memorized. And even though you labored your brain to rewire any feelings leaving you at his beck and call, it clearly hadn't been proficient since your keys had already been gathered and his whereabouts programmed in your GPS via his location services.

"You're so annoying." It might have been rude of you to want him to feel guilty, but it was just as rude of him to interrupt your one night off, which was supposed to be spent with Seokjin, with his intoxicated antics. "I'm coming to pick you up."

"Yo- u are? I love you sooo much. You're the best friend ever, ya know that?" Overly emotional professions was your que to drive fifteen miles over the speed limit so he didn't do something stupid enough to land himself in an ICU.

"Okay, I'm almost there. I think I see you. Wave for me?"

The slumped silhouette you were squinting at began to frantically throw its arms side to side, making you both laugh and pull over so he could drag himself into your passenger seat. And, if you were being honest, he looked better as the blackened shadow of himself.

Jungkook, in all his glory, had his shirt almost fully turned backwards, hair ruffled into a mess, and face as red as the time you and him laid on the beach until your skin punished you with a second degree burn. And all those factors didn't amount to how he smelled like he bathed for hours inside a hand sanitizer bottle.

"God, you're a mess, Jungkook." You said that as jokingly as possible, but meant the sternness embedded in each word. Jungkook was a mess, physically and mentally.

"Hey! You're judging me! Stop being th-o mean, ___." Whenever he was this drunk, his lisp made more appearances in his speech than when he wasn't.

You hated how easily it reminded you of when you were in middle school and he was still navigating and rehearsing through his speech patterns. In middle school, when he was the sweet boy with his only fault being his lisp, who gave you his hoodie and a compassionate smile upon meeting you because your current bully plotted the embarrassment of a lifetime with that piece of chocolate on your seat. In middle school, when Jungkook was the only person in your grade who was kind enough to be kind and true to his word when he pledged his loyalty as your best friend. Forever.

With just one word, you were that timid little middle schooler again, helplessly and unconditionally in love with Jungkook.

Hauling Jungkook, who was more muscle than bone and flesh, over to his door was an art form you had trained, practiced, and mastered about thirty or so times before this one. He weighed about twice as much as you could normally carry, and nonetheless, he was out of your car and in his house in no time.

After you locked the door, you turned around to meet Jungkook, rendering the door frame into a crutch and effectively detaining you between his body and the solid wood behind you.

If you weren't so reminiscent in the car seconds before this, then the vodka-scented souvenir on his breath would have gagged you. However, being this close to him, feeling the warmth of his body consuming and overpowering yours, just made you want to sink into him even more and give him everything you had to offer.

His head was hung so when you looked up, you were greeted with Jungkook's lazy smile that gave his lips a boyish asymmetry and draped his eyelids halfway down his irises. And he had you spooled around him so tightly, this look just made him all the more appetizing.

"Kook, we gotta get you to bed, buddy." You tried to ward him off by weaponizing the most strictly platonic nickname you could think of, partnered with a neighborly pat on the back.

It was mostly to remind yourself that this man, who was an inch too close to your face, was your friend, and that in less than ten minutes you were expected to see Seokjin, but from the way he was looking at you, as if he reached into the depths of your heart to devour all your feelings for him and make them his own, you had to remind him of the universally accepted best friend boundaries.

No deep, romantic gazing into each other's eyes. No intimate activity that could be a precursor to anything more affectionate than a hug. No doing exactly what you two were doing as of now.

"Don't call me that." You hoped his aggression against what you said was merely his inebriated irrationally talking, and as always, his emotions were far beyond his control.

And, shamefully, you also hoped it was because he actually did feel the way you felt. What if he wanted the date that Seokjin was going to get tonight and he wanted all the hand holding and none of the back patting, a 'baby' instead of a 'buddy'?

"What? You're drunk-"

"Don't." Before you could drag him by the arm to his bed, a firm palm settled on your torso and closed the gap between you and the door while widening the gap an inch further between Jungkook and his bed, where he would fall asleep without the warmth of the only person he wanted. "___, please."

His voice was strangled with desperation and Jungkook was depleted of all resistance. He just needed to drink you up. To fill himself with the nourishments of your lips, your body, you.

"What-" He could have silenced you easily with a 'shh' or a finger to your lips. Or anything to your lips except his lips.

His lips. They were greedy and giving all at once. Making soft and intimate ministrations against yours as he kissed you before you had the chance to register what was going on. And even when you did, you let his tongue slide into your mouth. This moment was brimming with all the spontaneity you could ever be prepared for, and though it was new, there was no denying that kissing him felt like finally coming home just from the amount of times you had played this moment out in your daydreams. Plus, Jungkook seemed to ease his tongue along yours a bit too confidently for this to be the first time the idea of kissing you has ran through his mind. 

You're being stupid, you told yourself and Jungkook, but that didn't matter when you were finally allowed a taste of what it felt like to be kissed and touched and possibly even loved by Jungkook.

Your shirt was bunched halfway up your torso, his body pressed to your front a reprisal for the chill of the door against your back. Jungkook was, admittedly, a phenomenal kisser even when the lens of sobriety wasn't available to him. The way he ran his hands along the bare of your back like some desperate pilgrimage to discover the undiscovered parts of your body and took your bottom lip between his teeth like it was his to begin with was nearly enough to undress you from all your defenses, from all your clothing, from every single barrier that kept you from Jungkook for the past twelve years and let him have you. And finally have him. It was nearly enough.

Your hands divorced his body from yours before your lips and heart were ready to let go. It was painful, but the heartbroken look wringing his face into a tearful frown was even more so.

"No." You pushed him away further only to walk past him and seek refuge in the open space of his living room. "You don't get to do this."

"What? What does-"

"You don't get to drunkenly kiss me, Jungkook. You don't get to hold me and kiss me like you love me. It's not fair."

"Hey-"

"Because you don't. You don't love me..." If you weren't too busy finally permissing the hot words to boil over from pure anger, then you would have felt the even hotter tears wetting the expanse of your cheek.

"Well, how the hell would you know that?" His voice drowned out the loud pumps of blood beating in your ears like a drum.

"Because it would have happened ten years ago, Jungkook! Jesus, it would have been obvious from the beginning. So if you love me, if you really love me, then it wouldn't be happening now, like this. When you were drunk out of your mind and still vulnerable from Irene."

"You don't know anything." If that were the case, then Jungkook somehow knew even less than you.

"Yeah, clearly. I didn't know you'd stoop this low. I thought I was a lot of things to you. But I never thought I'd be some rebound."

"A rebound? You think that's what this is?" Jungkook seemed upset, but to your knowledge he had absolutely no reason to be angry with you.

He was, as always, displacing the burdens he didn't feel like dealing with on you, moderating you into an emotional punching bag. But what hurt more than those scrapes and bruises, was the aftermath of letting him fuck his worries away which would have consisted of him telling you the next morning that it meant nothing, expecting you to nod demurely, maybe even console him, and act like your chest hadn't been emptied and filled with his baggage in the most murderous way.

"Fuck you."

"Wow. You're really being like this? You really wanna talk about this now?

"You know what? Yeah I wanna talk about it. I wanna talk about the years. The years, Jungkook, that I've spent loving you! I- I wanna talk about the amount of times I've spent thinking about you when you were with her, and I probably didn't even cross your mind. Or how about the fucking thousands of times I've spent crying over you because I knew I was never going to be the one you'd want to wake up next to! And I had to watch! I had to fucking watch you fall in love over and over and probably wonder why I didn't fall in love either. It was you. It was always you, Jungkook."

"___, I-"

"No." His attempt to intervene was quickly denied. You were too angry to let him speak, too tired to carry these grievances any longer. "You don't get to talk. It's all out there. I loved you. I still love you! Fuck, I'm trying to get over you. And it's like you know. It's like you can read my mind or something and strike right when I'm about to recover from the last wound."

Your breathing was as heavy as Jungkook's was shallow. He could only stand, breathlessly, only curse himself for ever being so blind and regret taking advantage of your love even if it were entirely unknowingly, just to let his heart sink deeper until it fell completely out of his chest while his tears fell just as heavily.

"I'm done, Jungkook. I'm tired of trying to outrun you in this race that you're not even competing in. I'm tired of loving you. So, I'm done."

All the words Jungkook wanted to say, the words pleading for sound, carving deep gashes in his throat and leaving him vocally impaired, could never amount to the apology you deserved. Maybe this once, he wouldn't leave you wounded. He would gather the nobility to shut up and let you move on from him. Because you wouldn't know from his lapse of silence that he was empathizing with every bit of pain he caused you, and he hated himself more than you did right now for allowing such a pain to ever fall in your hands. But, where you knew you could someday forgive him for it, he knew he would never forgive himself.

He could scrounge for a few things to respond with, pour the weight of his emotions into the scarcity of his words, but he needed to let you leave and be selfless for once in his life.

"I should go. Drink some water before bed, okay?" You mumbled to choke back your tears, though it wouldn't matter letting a few more tears escape since you were previously sob-ranting and he'd seen you cry like this a hundred times before. He was the shoulder you never thought you'd have to miss leaning on, but walking out of his door punctured a hole in you. An empty space in your heart designed for the one person who had crushed the rest of it.

If this were a movie, with star-crossed lovers and a fiery infatuation blooming into what everyone secretly wants: true love, then Jungkook would have ran out of his door and held you close, professing his undying love for you. He would have won you back, reassembled your broken heart into fullness, kissed you beneath the brilliance of the moon, and lived happily ever after.

But this wasn't a movie, and he did none of those things.

Instead, he stumbled his way into his kitchen. He poured himself that cup of water you advised. He thought about how even when you swore to him you were done, you spared a bit of compassion to remind him to take care of himself. He wondered how deserving he was of everything you are. He touched his lips, searching for the echo of yours. He fell into his queen-sized bed meant for two, alone, and whispered the words that were ever eclipsing to the space beside him where he longed for you to lay so you could hear them for yourself.

"I love you."

a/n: sorry to put you through that, but the idea was born and i am but a humble vessel to bring it to life <3 hehe thank you all so much for reading and like i said, don't worry there will be a happy ending!!! (and possibly a longer-than-drabble final chapter to this series)

ok ok so, like i said, i finished squid game and i was gonna write an analysis and post it here just because i want to put my thoughts somewhere but based on this one thing i wrote it would probably be way too long so im probs still gonna write it for me and if i enjoy it so much that i wanna do it for other films/shows i’ll post it on another blog i was already thinking of starting and maybe post it in smaller sections,,,

anyways all of that to say that i wrote this and its mostly my opinion/interpretation on this one aspect of the show but i need you all to know that i have an entire channel of things i wanna talk about and i need someone to talk about them with so,,,i am shouting into this void bc my film brain go brrrrrrrrr SNNDNNDND also if you wanna chat about PLS DO

i’m putting it under the cut bc spoilers and also i know some people don’t wanna see it,,,also i tried to split it up somewhat so its easier to read bc ya girl was just word vomiting bc i just really love this metaphor and how they worked it dndnndndnd

The Matrix Metaphor aka one of my faves ok so in episode five, right after the team wins tug-o-war, they go back to the common area and are recouping from the last game; everyone is relatively not speaking but mi-nyeo is talking about how cool it was and how when they all leaned back it was like some film that she's seen ali says 'the matrix' and i was like oh...OH and then later, which i’ll get to i was like OH (like that funny fanfic meme) THEY WERE DOING A CALLBACK BC THEY WANTED ME TO PAY ATTENTION and i did.

 now when i was watching the show, obviously i had my film lens on and was looking for symbolism in everything that i was seeing, one of these things that i was trying to piece together was the game of ddakji. the thing that's most important here is the tiles, the salesman (gong yoo i am respectfully objectifying you to filth) lets the player choose the tile that they want to play with in the game. 

what color are the tiles???? RED AND BLUE!!!!!! if you've seen The Matrix or know anything about it i imagine you're quite familiar with the most common association RED PILL V BLUE PILL!!!!!!! (sings sofia chorus ) if you don't know, to take the red pill is to subject yourself to a potentially unsettling and life altering truth while the blue pill allows you to remain contentedly ignorant. 

gi-hun picks the blue tile, obviously leaving the salesman with the red. we know that gi-hun doesn't know wtf the card is for or why the man knows his life and offered him money to play a children's game, he just knows that it was easy money, and easy punishment once he was offered a slap to the face each time he lost rather than his own payment in won. so it was a relatively simple decision to call the number and join the games bc he didn't know anything about them. now this is where speculation comes in bc there has to be someone who chose the red tile over the blue tile and, perhaps, they knew more than they were letting on- 

if i were to guess, i would say that among the players that we truly got to know, sang-woo and sae-byeok are two characters that would have picked the red tile or at least known the stakes of the red tile and would therefore know more than everyone else because they were definitely, aside from il-nam which makes sense bc he's pulling all of the strings, the most composed when the players were shot during red light green light. further, when the players began begging for the games to end, sang-woo is the one that brought up the contract and the ability of the players to terminate the games but he proceeded to vote in favor of staying. when everyone voted against that notion and he was sent home he's the only player that truly had nothing to go back to when we saw all of the backstories of the characters. he couldn't bring himself to see his mom and was sitting in the bathtub surrounded by alcohol cigarettes' , the works, essentially 'drowning' in the corporate image that's been painted of him and ruined by him. 

BACK TO THE MATRIX, we don't know how many people turned down the game and therefore could have chosen the red tile and decided that the unsettling truth was not worth the cash they could've gotten for joining the games and it doesn't go against the rule of equality that is practiced by the host bc the players had the choice to choose red or blue and remember the salesman says that they have a limited number of spots left which means that there were more players offered than could compete. oh gosh i'm sure i'm forgetting something but may i just say that i'm happy that gi-hun decided to get himself together the year after he left the games the hair is not for me but that's okay bc it's for him and that was my thought watching the end of the show until i realized

in the case of sae-byeok she was willing to do anything to bring her family back together and the games were the only way that she could accomplish as her only means of income was pickpocketing and its no shock that she was the most intellectual street-wise

while sang-woo was the most intellectual mentally and emotionally/empathetically; and as much as im sure every agrees that ethically he's the worst, fuck him for screwing over ali, he did play the best game and if it didn't come down to his best childhood friend he might have won (recall at the beginning of the series when gi-hun said sang-woo got into SNU bc of him? i imagine that that is in some way true bc look at how things played out) bc the only time that we really see him question his morality and his choice to betray his team is during the honeycomb game when he hesitates before deciding not to tell gi-hun not to go to the umbrella. 

THAT SHIT IS FOR ME BECAUSE HIS ASS TOOK THE RED PILL!!!!!! HE DYED HIS HAIR RED AND HE TOOK THE RED PILL AND THEY SET UP SEASON 2 BC HE IS NEO (not really but yes really that rounds out the metaphor) he makes it out of the games, out of this matrix that has been set up by, in this case, the rich and he knows now, he knows about il-nam and he knows that there is good in people and he knows that he has the knowledge to pull other players from the matrix that took so much from him before it spit him back into the real world and now his hair is red because he took the red pill and he is 'the chosen one',,,i mean he naturally gravitated to the man that started the whole thing and despite that he still ended up 'killing' him in the end so by some predestined notion that seemed wrong at the time he made the right decision even if the outcome in the moment seemed bleak

I saw your post on dogs with anxiety. As a professional, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind sharing a list of behaviors in dogs that may be attributed to anxiety and how to tell if it's anxiety or personality. Do you know any of the behaviors in cats that mean the same? You don't have to answer, you provided great examples in your post, I was just wondering what more I could learn without the uncertainty of truthfulness provided by Google. Thanks!

Hey! So yes I can absolutely list behaviors I look for when I'm assessing if a dog has anxiety(and I can go into cats a bit from foster/rescue experience but I haven't been 'trained' on them so it's much more circumstantial).

The short answer is that if your dog seems anxious, that's not a feature it's a bug and you should address it. Even if it seems like it's just their personality - that usually means they're an anxious dog and need help, not that the behavior should be ignored or can't be changed.

Also, I approach dog training from a 'dog problem' perspective rather than a 'people problem' perspective. I am not focused on if the behavior being exhibited is a behavioral problem *for the owner* - I am focused on what that behavior tells me about the dog's emotional state.

But first! Two disclaimers:

1) 100% of dogs will show some of these behaviors in varying degrees. Just because your dog does one or two things on this list at a low degree doesn't mean they're about to have a breakdown. If you think your dog might be anxious enough to need training based on this list, consult a trainer in person. While I am a dog trainer, this isn't meant to be a self-diagnosis thing. Lay-people are notoriously bad at determining how bad dog anxiety is, and a trained professional may very well pick up on things you aren't seeing or be able to explain what's going on.

2) You'll notice some of these things are behaviors people commonly think are 'play' or 'affection' or 'the dog being high energy' or 'because of the breed' - and yes! Yes. My whole point in most of my other posts has been that we have desensitized ourselves to just how anxious our dogs are, right up until they bite someone. Again, if you see a dog exhibiting a number of these behaviors, the best thing is to consult a trainer - in person! <3

Also, below a cut bc this is just ridiculously long

So! there is sort of a hierarchy of dog behaviors. First are the lowest levels of behavioral problems. These are the ones that most dogs exhibit in one form or another. Just like all people exhibit anxiety sometimes, so do all dogs and it's really to what extent those behaviors tell us about quality of life rather than their simple presence. The second level is more acute behaviors - these are ones that may or may not require training but you should absolutely note if you see your dog displaying them. Third category is dogs who have already gone way past what we would consider a 'normal' threshhold for behavior. If your dog is doing these things you need a professional. Full Stop.

For lower level behaviors what I might do is take stock of how many and how intense behaviors are. If your dog is showing, say, 1-2 low level behaviors constantly I might recommend seeing a trainer but wouldn't push it, but if they're showing 1-2 mid level behaviors as well, or like the whole list of low level behaviors, I would absolutely recommend talking to a trainer.

Low level behaviors commonly associated with anxiety:

- 'Stickiness', needy/pushy behavior(dogs who follow you from room to room or climb on you, invade your personal space habitually) - Mouthiness (they consistently go for your hands/arms instead of a toy when playing, or like to chew/lick people habitually) - Putting paws on people/lacking boundaries (like, if your dog wants you to play with it, and puts their paws on you to let you know, or if your dog consistently wants to sit on you) - Taking high value items and running away with them (low level resource guarding), or turning away from you with a high value item/growling/freezing - Being unable to settle (mild pacing, moves from room to room often, rarely sleeps deeply) - the LACK of deep sleep (you rarely see your dog 'dreaming') - Mild leash pulling - 'Snapping' food up rather than taking it gently - Lip-licking, continuous panting, 'freezing' at stimulus - Whining - Moderate vocalizations (barking, howling, etc) Mid-level Anxiety:

- Habitually jumping on people - Rushing at people or through doors/openings - Consistent pulling on leash - Reactive barking (at cars, bikes, other dogs, people, etc) - Uncontrollable 'Zoomie' behavior (will not stop if asked, may bump into people or other dogs) - Compulsive behaviors (digging, chewing, licking, drinking all the water in a bowl, etc) - Pacing/needing a high level of exercise every day, or immediately getting up if you move - Destructive behavior (rips up every toy they're given, chews shoes or other items consistently) - Resource guarding (bears teeth, snaps but doesn't make contact, takes items and hides them habitually) - Hard biting/inappropriate strength while playing, or entering a fight they don't have a part in Starting fights with other dogs over minor infractions (has my toy, was in my way, stepped on me while I was sleeping) - Inability/Unwillingness to take food (yes, this means if your dog is a habitual ‘picky eater’ that can be a symptom of anxiety. I said what I said.)

High-Level Anxiety:

- Overt aggression (lip-snarling while barking, 'hard' barking, biting, pinning, etc) - Starting fights with other dogs who are not interacting with them(going across a room to start a fight, immediately starting a fight upon eye-sight, etc) - hard pulling on leash/darting on leash - Compulsive behavior to the point of self injury - Intense resource guarding to the point it is a danger to interact with them - ‘Starvation’ or lack of ability to eat consistently

Also, because this tends to be really helpful for people, here's a small, non-exhaustive list of dog body-language signals that I look for when I'm assessing a dog's anxiety level:

- 'Looseness' - is the dog's back bending as it moves or is it tense along its topline. This is the number one thing I look for. If a dog has a tight topline, something is bothering them and usually, this is the clearest and most common indicator a dog will give. - Tail level - tucked, low, level, high - Ear level - floppy, back, neutral, forward, uneven, pointed) - Lips - Tight, loose, 'smiling', closed - Body balance (are they leaning forward, neutral, or leaning back/away from the stimulus) - Tail wagging if concentrated from mid to top of the tail (base stiff) (YES this can be a sign the dog is anxious NO it is not just because they're happy) - Presence of 'calming signals' - whole body shaking(wet dog shake), sighing, yawning, stretching - Body position (laying down, belly up, freezing in place, crouching/tucking, etc) - Eyes (hard, soft, wall eye, wide, fixed, moving, staring)

And finally, I do wanna plug the guy who taught me a lot of what I know because he is GREAT and his website has some really cool articles and podcasts - and I can actually recommend his youtube channel as well because most of it is just 'this is why we do what we do' rather than how-tos.

https://www.markmccabe.com/ https://www.markmccabe.com/blog/ (I particularly recommend What do Grade Schools and Mountains have to do with dog training? and Is your dog an optimist?) Youtube channel And now cats! So, cats at their core are similar, but their behaviors will differ slightly. Also again I'll reiterate that while I've had cats all my life and have worked with them extensively I have not received any formal training. So, where a lot of dog behaviors are focused on the person, cat behaviors will often be focused on their environment or other animals. Because we don’t train cats that ‘human means things happen’ they are less likely to connect a human with their unfulfilled need. (So, instead of a dog feeling anxious and going ‘must find/interact with/annoy human’, a cat will feel anxious and go ‘how can I fuck something up. anything it doesnt matter it just has to be something someone loves’). Low level behaviors - ‘sudden’ activity/reactive to loud noises (if you get up and they do, if they consistently hide at a certain noise, etc) - consistently pushing things off surfaces or other ‘attention seeking’ behaviors - ‘Scarfing’ food or eating and then vomitting - Stalking or consistent following of you or other animals

Mid-level behaviors

- Litter box guarding (will 'wait' outside the box while another cat is using it and may start a fight - agitation when being pet or touched - loss of appetite - anti-social behavior(hiding, hissing, etc) - swatting with claws extended - ‘Pouncing’ or stalking behavior that may escalate

High level behaviors

- Starting fights with animals who are not interacting with them - Peeing/pooping outside the litter box - Biting and breaking skin - unprovoked attacks that cause injury

As with dogs, one or two of these things doesn’t mean 100% your cat has an anxiety problem, but these are all indicators that something might be causing your cat stress and that should be addressed.

Deep sea baby

Levihan | Rated for mild swearing and mild deed-doing | This is a secret santa gift for @hanji-zoe103  💕

It’s on Ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/28429827

Hanji is born of white foam, where the heavens collide with the sea, and Levi loves her with a fierceness that would make the tides jealous. Levi knows little of poetics, but Hanji promises to find him in the next life and the ones after.

And sure as the waves crashing into shore, she does.

 Hanji is the sea. Uncompromising, untamable, painfully beautiful. Levi thinks she’s poetry in motion, the way she dances, barefoot across sandy beaches, the way she walks down towards the place where the sea meets land, unafraid amidst white waters. 

  He sits, like the shores, and watches her. Watches her bend towards the ground, hands dipping beneath foam, searching for shells. She holds them up against the sun to inspect them when she finds them. Treasure, she calls them. 

  When she’s waist deep in salt water she turns back to look at him. 

  “Come on Levi! The water is warm!” 

  ≋

  Hanji is born of white foam, where the heavens collide with the sea.

  And Levi is the most beautiful boy to have walked the earth, so beautiful he puts the gods to shame. And Hanji fears whatever love they have will be short-lived, because he loves her with a fierceness that would make the tides jealous. 

  It’s a long way from heaven, but Hanji comes to see him every day. She sits with him in a clearing in the forest while he works and he’s sceptical at first. Nothing good comes from associating with the old gods. But the hem of her dress is caked in mud, there’s earth under her nails, and she swears exactly like a sailor would. He teaches her to climb trees and she names all the sheep in his flock. 

  “Maybe it would be nice to stay here forever...” she says to him one day, and Levi understands the gravity of what she’s suggesting. The heavens would not allow for it. They would cut her up piece by piece and she would be returned to the sea. 

  But there’s a conviction in Hanji’s eyes, a severity that justifies the cult of mortals at her feet. The same determination that Hanji has when she’s pulling splinters from her fingers, when she picks wildflowers for Levi, when she holds him against her chest and challenges the gods. She balls her fists and curses the greys of the skies, yet she dances in the rain, giggling, pulling Levi to join her. He surprises himself when he relents.

  So Levi tells her she has his heart. 

  Each night he holds her close, and each night she falls into a deep slumber and she dreams of running barefoot through a field of white roses to reach him. She pierces her foot on a thorn and the field is stained red. A field of red roses. Each one blooming and dying at Levi’s feet. 

  ≋

  In a kinder life, they are childhood friends in a sleepy seaside town. Levi has a popsicle in his mouth, the last of it melting on his tongue. Hanji has long finished hers, and her fingers are sticky from the syrup. But it doesn’t matter because Levi is burying her in the sand so she can keep her filth to herself. He contemplates covering her mouth with sand too, but they’re going to turn thirteen soon and he’s tired of pretending that her talking annoys him. 

  “When I’m older I’m going to sail all over the world!” Hanji grins. Levi thinks it’s funny that now she’s just a talking head in the sand.

  But his heart sinks a little. He doesn’t know if his future is on a vessel bound to nowhere. But they’re still young and their plans have little structure and bearing, so for now Levi pretends he’s going to be there with her, sailing across the ocean.

  “Did you know it’s a myth that lobsters mate for life?” Hanji says, absentminded, part of her trying to distract from the heat, and another part of her already thinking about that ice cream they have waiting for them in her freezer. “Sad huh... Who knew you can’t trust everything on TV...” she laughs. 

  “Seahorses mate for life...” Levi says. He tries to stay nonchalant, but he’s a little embarrassed he spends his free time googling facts he thinks Hanji would enjoy.

  And Hanji knows. Of course she does. She has known him her whole life. In this life and the next he is her Levi. Her Levi with an endless capacity for kindness. She smiles. 

  “Seahorses huh...”

  ≋

  They meet on a ship sailing through uncharted waters. Levi joins the Royal Navy when it feels like he’s exhausted all other options. There's a hunger for power that guides their ship to foreign lands.

  It’s the middle of the night when hears shouting. He jolts awake and already the rest of the crew are reaching for their weapons. There’s no time to change out of their night clothes. The ship spirals into a frenzy. He spots the warning of black sails and white crossbones from afar. The ship is gaining on them. It’s clear they have to stand their ground and fight. 

  The pirates board their ship, and there’s a wild clash of knives and swords and the smell of blood in the air mixing with the metallic taste of gold and bronze and silvers. Levi lunges but his sword is halted midair by a cutlass. 

  “Not so fast Officer...” the pirate says. Past the eyepatch and greasy hair he sees her- he feels her. There’s a white rush by his ears calling for him to come home. 

  I found you, she whispers in his ear as she brings him aboard her ship. 

  The sea promises gold and riches beyond imagination, and Levi promises to follow her to the ends of the earth. 

  ≋

  Levi works in his uncle's bakery a small town in the middle of godforsaken nowhere. It's a family business, and they've been getting good reviews from travel blogs online looking for spots off the beaten path. 

  Levi is on a date to the aquarium and Kenny yells a “don't come back tonight if you know what's good for you!” after him. There are still customers in the bakery and everyone is staring at him. The teenagers in the corner snigger. 

  His date doesn't show, but he's not surprised really. The first date had gone by in a way that could be considered painless. But beyond nice pleasantries, there’s nothing much to look forward to. So Levi completely understands. Then again she could’ve at least had the courtesy to drop him a text. In any case, Kenny will be disappointed. He enters the aquarium anyway. Might as well. He had already purchased the tickets, and he hasn’t been since he was a child in elementary school. He watches the sharks swim laps behind the thick glass. He wonders if they feel unfulfilled, living in a tank, watching as people from all around take family trips to visit the aquarium. 

  “That one’s Bean!” Levi switches his attention from a particularly small shark to the person beside him. 

  “What?” He replies.

  “That one!” She points to the shark making its way past them, “she’s Bean. We rescued her from a fishing net.” 

  Levi watches her grin with suspicion. Maybe he should introduce himself. He's not usually one to introduce himself to strangers with wild hair and gleaming eyes behind thick glasses, but there's a first for everything, and before he knows it, he's telling her his name.

  "Date stood you up?" she says, and Levi glares at her. "Oh... Wait... That really happened?" she apologises, and the stranger with the wild hair and gleaming eyes becomes Hanji. There’s something about the lights in the aquarium, the blues and violets that reflect off the auburn in her eyes in a way that’s almost ethereal. 

  The things that conspire after are tricks of the light then, surely. Hanji invites him back to her apartment, and they talk and they polish off a six pack of beers and a few bottles of cheap wine between the two of them. "This is fun! I haven't gotten shipfaced in a while!" Hanji chuckles. 

  “No.” Levi says, he has little tolerance for bad nautical puns. But it only encourages Hanji to tell him more. There's a mix of "where ya fin all my life" and "you're whaley cute", and finally, when she's absolutely smashed, a "nice boat, wanna fuck?" 

  At that, the dams break and Levi laughs. 

  Hanji wakes up the next morning, killer headache, she shoots up and the headache splits her skull open. Too quick. 

  “Ouch...” she says, eyes blinking through sleep and haze. She grabs at the bottle of water by her bedside and shuffles through her drawer for ibuprofen. 

  “You idiot...” 

  Hanji snaps her head up, looking for the owner of the voice and there Levi is, leaning against her door, hands folded across his chest. Hanji’s jaw slackens. 

  “In case you were wondering, no, nothing happened...” 

  “But... but you’re here... in... in my room...” 

  “Tch...” Levi rolls his eyes, “you passed out and I stayed just in case you choked on your own vomit and died in the middle of the night...” 

  Oh...

  “Wait did I?” 

  Levi raises a brow, she’s still not all there. “Still alive aren’t you?” 

  Hanji shrugs. This could be hell for all she knows. “Fast acting pain relief” proving to be the biggest scam of the century. 

  "What a fucking shipwreck of a person..." Levi says and it takes Hanji a minute before she's doubled over in laughter, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. 

  Levi half expects to never see her ever again, but there she is the day after, as promised, finger pressed to the glass, ordering herself a Pain au Chocolat, an Americano, and his number on a piece of napkin. He sighs, but he's writing it down for her anyway.

  "You really followed me home that night huh... Didn't it cross your mind that I could be a serial killer?" She says, examining his handiwork. 

  Levi scoffs, "you invited a complete stranger you picked up at the aquarium into your house, and then proceeded to get very wasted... Didn't it cross your mind that I could have been the serial killer?"

  Hanji laughs, and it startles her when it echoes throughout the bakery, "touché..." she says, "guess I am a shipwreck of a person..." she winks.

  The corners of Levi's lips betray a smile as he watches her take a seat by the window to read. 

  "That's not Petra..." Kenny comments. 

  "Who said I went home with Petra?" Levi answers.

  Kenny's face pulls into a smirk and he lets loose a deep rumble of laughter, “Levi you absolute dog!”

  ≋

  The sea is a passage. To a new life that Hanji can only pray will be fulfilling. She is the princess of a port kingdom- a people favoured by the sun and raised by the sea. 

  Her ships carry her to a distant land of frigid waters and snowfall, where her betrothed is king. When she sets foot on land, she's greeted by faces paler than hers and a mannerism befitting the heartiness of Northern kingdoms. There are skins being made into pelt, fish hanging out to dry, wines made from preserved fruit. Already, Hanji misses the white sandy beaches and the heat of the midday sun, but she's to be queen now, and she remembers this when she walks past the heavy doors into the throne room. She comes bearing gifts of glass beads, fine porcelain, and dried fruit and nuts- a reminder of Summer. 

  She takes her place beside her husband, and she smiles at the people who have come to see her- the princess from the other side of the sea. They are her people now. 

  And that's when she sees him.

  His expression doesn't change even when he kneels in front of her and kisses the back of her hand. He vows to protect her. 

  She calls for him later, and he tells her to call him Levi- he has never been too keen on formalities. Besides, Sir Levi doesn’t suit him quite as much. And she's Hanji, just Hanji. 

  It's Winter when they take a ride through the forest. She's not used to the heavy furs and wools and Levi has to remind her that the sun doesn't shine the same here. But Hanji knows. Her golden skin now mellowing. She hikes her dress above her knees and toes through the snow. The ground caves beneath her feet like powdered sugar, and Hanji thinks maybe there's beauty in her new home. She thinks maybe there's warmth to be found, as Levi catches her before she slips. 

  He shows her the lake, now frozen over, and they slide over thick ice like children. She pulls him down with her when she falls and they laugh. There's something in his eyes that Hanji recognises as fear. She feels it in the beat of her own heart, warning her against falling. But they’ve been treading on thin ice around one another, and falling seems inevitable.

  So Levi presses back against her and kisses her. Hanji feels a warmth coursing through her- the same fire she's promised in the lullabies her mother used to sing her. 

  "We should come in Spring. The lake is beautiful then..." Levi says as they make their way back to the castle. And Hanji promises to show him her home. The crystal waters; gentle waters. She knows it's a promise that may never be fulfilled, but nevertheless, this is a moment in time, and promises offer a glimpse into possibility. 

  Come Spring, they make love by the lake, under the cover of the sea of trees. Everything is beautiful in the Spring. 

  ≋

  In another life, the sea promises protection. 

  There’s only one rule out at sea near the white rocks-

  Beware the Siren’s song.

  Levi lives in a little house by the sea. Everyday he sails out near the white rocks to catch fish. 

  Hanji circles his boat. Her iridescent tail catching the light and reflecting deep purples and green. She sings her best song for him- the beautiful fisherman with the grey eyes. 

  "Don’t swim into the nets," he scolds and Hanji is taken aback. She thinks about her beautiful fisherman when he sails for home. And there's a familiar tugging that she feels in her gut. But the weather has taken a turn for the worse and she doesn’t see him near the white rocks. Not the next day nor the days after. She seeks the council of the waters and the waves carry her to shore. 

  There’s a storm raging. The windows are rattling against their frames. Lightning illuminates the skeletons of his house and there’s a persistent knocking that weaves in and out of the thunder. Levi takes the screaming kettle off the hobs. 

  He opens the door to her. She’s standing in the rain, hands wrapping around herself to shield from the cold. Levi’s gaze skims from the tip of her nose down to her bare chest, down to her long legs. He swallows thickly. She’s leaning against the frame of the door, shifting her weight from one unstable leg to another. Like a fawn learning to walk. He frowns but nevertheless, he leaves the door ajar for her to enter.

  “You’re gonna get the floors all wet...” he mutters. Rainwater he can manage. But seawater makes the floorboards a little sticky, and that annoys him deeply.

  “I told you I’ll come for you.” She says. 

  Levi shoves a towel in her face, “Dry yourself.” He pauses for a moment, taking in the shock on her face. “Please.” 

  Surprisingly, she does as she’s told, and when she’s done, she hands the towel back to him. 

  Levi finds her dry clothes, and she pinches and pulls at them, inspecting after she puts them on. 

  “I’m here to eat your heart lover boy.” 

  He considers her. It’s colder this time of year and the sea is relentless. But her skin is gold like honey, sun-kissed in a way that reminds Levi of summers and homemade jam and the grass beneath his feet. 

  “Levi.” He replies.

  Levi. she says, smile spreading across her face like butter on warm toast. 

  He shares his stew with her and she tells him her name is Hanji when her hands are warming by the fire. She looks at Levi, gaze washing over him like a wave. And there’s familiarity in the way his eyes soften when he looks at her. He looks at her like he's trying to call forth a string of memories tying her to him; him to her. But all he has is an affection for her that ripples through his consciousness. It's accompanied by the sounds of laughter- her laughter- and the pale shimmer of moonlight.  

  So she returns to him the next day, and the day after, and the days after that. 

  Hanji brings him little pieces of treasure. A conch shell, a dead sand dollar, bits of sea glass. Her legs grow stronger each time. She dances around his house. She pulls him flush against her chest and rests her chin atop his head and sways to a tune she’s humming. 

  Beware the Siren’s song, they say. 

  But they’re far from the white rocks and she’s laughing exactly like a lover would. The floorboards are creaking under their toes.

  He looks for her when he’s out at sea, and listens as she tells him stories of the depths, about the men who hurt her, about dying at sea, and about the promise of protection and rebirth.  

  When she wakes again, there's water in her lungs and she learns to breathe. To call the sea her home. 

  But maybe it's not by accident that she falls asleep in his arms one night, cocooned in white sheets that remind her of sea foam. 

  She kisses his nose in the morning and he blinks an eye open to look at her. “I’m gonna eat your heart lover boy...” Hanji teases, hair tickling his skin, the sight of him crossing the boundary between sleep and daybreak takes her breath away. 

  Levi smiles, pulling her closer, "stop moving so much..." he groans. It’s still early, they can still afford a little shut eye. He cradles her in his arms- a promise of protection. “You already have my heart,” comes his reply, in a moment of tenderness, and Hanji doesn't return to the waters. 

  ≋

  In others, the sea forces distance between them. 

  They don't meet in this life.

  But sure as waves reaching towards the shore, they meet in the one after.

  ≋

  They're in their second year of college but nothing really changes. 

  Except when it does, it happens so fast that Levi doesn't have time to breathe. The next time he takes a breath he's lying beside Hanji. They’re both sated and sleepy and Levi stills his breathing, coming down from his high. And Hanji thinks this life is nice. It's effortless in a way that reminds her that they are meant to be.

  The Marine Biologists have gathered for a nights out- a pub crawl to be specific. The entire course is decked in ridiculous outfits. There’s a merman somewhere, and a manatee, there’s even a sea snake (moray eel, Hanji clarifies). And Hanji is dressed as a shark. 

  Levi is there because he gets dragged along to everything that Hanji is a part of and he gets asked one too many times what his outfit is supposed to be. Because he’s in his jeans and a black top and he just looks- normal? 

  “He’s my next meal!” Hanji says and Levi pulls a face, he chokes out a, “shitty four eyes...” and he’s blushing a little more than he should because does she even hear herself?

  Halfway through the night Levi wonders why he’s so tipsy. This is really unlike him. He remembers meeting Hanji’s friend Moblit, whose Aquaman sends Hanji over the edge with laughter. He remembers hearing a round of “oh hey Levi!” (They all know who he is, after all, he’s often hanging around Hanji). Then the beer bong challenge. Oh right. The beer bong challenge... that’s why. Hanji won, at least he remembers that. 

  And he also remembers dancing with Hanji at the back of one of the pubs. “This is a good song...” he murmurs in her ear and she visibly shivers. But everything is spinning and the music is delicious, touching is also delicious, and they do just that. And at some point Levi must have just gone for it, because Hanji’s mouth is hot and inviting and Levi thinks he’s delirious so he surrenders to the feeling. 

  They’re back in Hanji’s room, only because it’s only a flight of stairs up and Levi is unzipping her ridiculous costume that surprising does little to ease his raging hard on. And Hanji, god forbid, isn’t wearing anything underneath. 

  His top comes off once they make it past the main door to her flat. Levi doesn’t even notice the mess in Hanji’s room as they navigate the narrow space and soon they're on the bed, hands moving in what is best described as a frenzy. 

  It feels so good and Levi finally admits to himself that he has been thinking about this for a while. And he’s almost relieved when Hanji kisses him and lets her want slide down his throat. 

  Levi wonders if they can still be considered friends. Last he’s checked friends don’t scream each other’s names the way Hanji is saying his name right now as she bites down on his shoulder. Plus, the whole best friends to lovers trope is just one big cliché. And yet, Levi doesn’t hate it. He has to admit it’s actually really nice. 

  The next morning Hanji finds Levi rummaging through her sink cupboard. 

  “My extra toothbrushes are the drawer.” She gestures towards the bottom drawer with her toe. They brush their teeth and they're sitting on the bed again, it's the only place for two to sit, really. 

  “So... Was it good for you?” Hanji says, a little amused with how the entire situation unfolded.  

 Levi clears his throat, face going red. “Would’ve been better if you weren’t wearing that stupid outfit...” He wants to say he's never felt this way with anyone before, but he doesn't. 

  “But hammerheads are cool!” Hanji protests and she’s pouting. Levi wonders if now’s a good time to kiss that stupid look off her face or if that’s too much.

  “Fucking one isn’t...” Levi mutters. Hanji throws her head back and laughs. 

  “So... What do we do now?” Levi asks. And Hanji shrugs saying a "admit we love each other and carry on with our lives?" like it had been obvious. 

  "Sounds good..." he says, smiling, and he thinks they deserve this effortlessness. 

 ≋

  Hanji comes back to him like ship returning to port. She thinks about meeting him when he's six and building sandcastles on the beach. He had ignored her attempt at conversation and Hanji had been a little annoyed.

  "You don't remember me do you?" She huffed, pout on her face, arms crossed. 

  Levi was confused, that definitely caught his attention, "do we know each other?" he asked. 

  "No," Hanji confessed, "no but... I know I'm supposed to meet you." She said with all the confidence a five year old can muster. Levi bickered with her. How can a five year old be so smug? He was a whole year older and he was by no means as confident. He didn't even know whether to pick sushi or pizza for lunch. 

  And she thinks about the night before she left. 

  "I like you Levi..." she had said. She willed herself not to cry, so there's a moment in which she's just chuckling humourlessly to herself. And Levi's scowls at her. "Inconvenient huh..." she added. She had to cross the ocean the next day on a voyage bound somewhere far away and this makes it that much harder.  

  Fucking inconvenient indeed...

  They don't make promises, but Hanji wishes they had. She wishes they would have at least addressed her little confession, because it's been eight years. Eight years of it gnawing at her brain and now it's just a little awkward. 

  Hanji takes a deep breath as she disembarks at port, her feet a little unsteady on dry land- like a fawn learning to walk again. But she sees him. And the knot in her chest unravels. Eight years. It's been too long. She takes tentative steps towards him, but soon she's running and enveloping him in a sweaty embrace. 

  He's whispering something, muffled because he's pressed into Hanji's clavicle-

  “Did you know seahorses mate for life?” 

  She smiles. Sure as the sun, he’s in her arms again. 

  Seahorses huh...

  ≋

  Hanji knows whatever life they've led, this is her favourite. 

  The one in which her and Levi see the sea for the first time together. 

  The one in which she’s the Commander, and him, her Captain. And between them, a river of words left unsaid threatening to break the banks. 

  One day they must cross the ocean, but today they visit the shores again, without the kids this time. And Levi learns why when he watches her peel at her clothes. Her harness comes off first, then her blouse, then everything else, like a little dance for an audience of one. Levi tries not to stare, but he’s already seen her by candlelight in the dead of the night. And yet she never fails to take his breath away. 

  She makes her way to where the white foams dredge the past up the shores of the present. 

  "Come on Levi! The water is warm!" she says, and he hears it like a call to come home- where the heavens collide with the sea. 

  He takes off his clothes and folds them in a neat pile beside Hanji's mess. He swims out to join her.

  The moonlight caresses her skin and this scene- this moment- is opulent. Levi unties the patch over her eye and lets the waters carry it away. She chuckles. "I'm never going to get that back am I?" she says, holding his hand and guiding him to shallower waters. 

  And Levi knows there's some poetry to the way she's kissing him. She tastes like saltwater and Summer all at once, and Levi thinks that he has never felt this way with anyone else. Will never feel this way about anyone else. Instead he glowers at her-

  “Hanji don’t you dare fucking die... I’ll never forgive you if you do... I swear I’ll-“ 

  Before Levi can continue, Hanji is laughing, sputtering as her head bobs below the surface of the water. 

  “Even if I do, you don’t have to say goodbye. I promise I’ll look for you in the next life... And the ones after...” She says, brushing the pad of her finger against his nose. The heavens and the sea bear witness. And Levi promises to follow her to the ends of the earth. 

  Treasure, he calls her, when the sound of white water crashing provide refuge for words that have little place in this life. Levi knows little of the words lovers say to each other, and even less of poetics, yet here he is with Hanji, sitting on the shores now, and watching salt crystal in her hair. He falls asleep that night to the sound of her breathing. And amidst dreams of roses and white foam,

  Levi is home. 

Dirty Little Secret | Chapter Two: Palm Trees

fuckbuddy!JJ x Kook!Reader 

series masterlist | chapter one 

You and JJ are fuck buddies- strictly physical. But what happens when you find yourself falling more and more for everyone’s favorite golden boy even though all he can see you as is a spoiled rich girl? 

note: just wanna thank ya’ll for all the support! so glad you guys like this. there is smut and drug use under the cut btw 

Three Months Ago-

“Shit,” you heard someone curse. 

You met eyes with an unfamiliar curly blonde boy who mimicked a deer in headlights as he perched down under the tall wooden fence. 

It was a fine, breezy morning. You had set up a blanket on a small patch of sand, under a shady palm tree, just behind someone’s large fenced backyard on the edge of the Eight. You figured no one could catch you casually smoking your pot in the secluded area. 

That was, until a pair of skinny legs darted into your hideout. You quickly hid your joint behind your back while his sea blue eyes pierced yours, but not in an intimidating way, more like a raccoon getting caught with food. He wore a dirty white tee, sleeves chopped off, and torn board shorts. He had bracelets trailing up his arm with ‘JJ’ written across multiple beads. You could tell right away he was from The Cut. 

“What the fuck! Who are you-” 

“Shh no no no,” he held a finger up to your lips. “You did not see me here.” 

He attempted to scurry away, but you caught onto his ankle before he could. “Wait!” 

He plummeted over onto the sand and groaned in response. “What the fu-”

You craned your neck at the fallen twinkie. “Are you stealing?” 

Having just moved to the Outer Banks six months ago, you didn’t know much about the culture besides what made up Figure Eight. From what you were told, the island was basically split between two crowds. 

Ted detested The Cut and anyone associated with it. He called them low lives, thieves, rats. One time, Macy went on a play date with a friend from school there. Once Ted found out where she was, he stormed over, pulled her away from her friend, and threatened the family before flooring the car back home. Since then, he forbade your family to go anywhere near the area. Ted wasn’t a man of many words, but the anger in his eyes that day made it clear he was not kidding around. 

“What?” the boy scoffed, “I’m not stealing, just-” 

“Disrupting the neighborhood?” 

His face knotted in confusion. “Something like that... look what will it take for you to keep quiet about this?” 

You shrugged, kind of enjoying his desperation. You weren’t planning on ratting him out at all, but this was the most entertainment you had gotten all week, so you decided to play along. You tapped your chin, “Hmm, perhaps-” 

“Before you continue, princess,” he mocked, gesturing towards the arm you had behind your back, “you might wanna rethink snitching when you have all that dank on you. How would your parents feel if they found out their precious Kook daughter was smoking weed?” 

You rolled your eyes and flipped him off. “Carry on, asshole.” 

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

Later that night, you were dragged to a party at the famous Boneyard by your friend Jade- a petite social butterfly with a heart of gold and the most toxic dating history you had ever seen. 

She was one of the few friends you made since moving to the OBX. Jade knew of how much you hated life at the Eight, but still tried to include you in as many events as she could. Despite growing up with insanely rich doctors as parents, she herself didn’t quite fit the spoiled Kook mold either. She had her kinks, and you liked it. 

“Jade, I’m not sure about this. If Ted finds out-” 

“Girl, you are fine! Just say you’re with me and my parents will cover. Trust me, they think I’m at some study session right now,” she assured.

“But finals aren’t til next month.” 

“Exactly! See how much they care?” 

Hand in yours, she led you to a spot on the beach where a crowd of people pranced around a bonfire. You could tell it was a mix of Pogues, Kooks, and some tourists in town for Spring Break. 

“Care for a beer ladies?” a tall, tan boy asked as he held out two red cups to you and Jade. You happily accepted, and the guy dared you both to chug your drinks. You shook your head with an ear-stretched grin, attempting to gulp as much of your beer as you could take. 

The confidence juice soared into your throat. It tasted absolutely atrocious, but you were determined to finish it. 

For the first time since moving to the island, you felt alive. The two of you tossed the empty remains into a trashcan and Jade cupped your cheeks with her French-manicured hands. “Isn’t this awesome!” she exclaimed and began shaking her hips to the electronic music- her excitement as contagious as ever. You immediately joined her, the alcohol coursing through your body. 

After a few songs, the same boy who offered you the beers crept up behind Jade’s 5’2 frame. He ran his hands along her hips as she grinded back onto him. 

‘Is he cute?’ she mouthed. You threw your head back laughing, giving her an encouraging nod. She went back to being smitten with her newfound man while you continued to dance by yourself, the outer skirts of your dress gliding up as you moved. 

“Well, it’s funny how the tables turn don’t it?” you heard a haughty voice trail behind you. 

You turned to see a shirtless boy double fisting bottles of cheap beer. His back was towards the fire so you couldn’t make out his face completely. Though, something did click in your half-drunken mind at the sight of the beaded bracelets on his wrists.

“You’re the Pogue from this morning,” you stated, staring intently at his sharp features. He was kinda cute in the dark, murky beach air. 

“Fancy seeing you here on our turf,” he rudely replied taking a swig of beer, “not sure who invited you, but here, we have a strict no spoiled bitches policy.” 

The audacity was so potent, and you were taken aback. “Excuse me?”

“Fuck off JJ! Y/n’s my friend, and I invited her,” Jade interjected from a few feet away, “go mack on one of the tourons and leave her alone.” 

“Whatever, Kooks.” The blonde scoffed and jogged away from the crowd, back towards a group of kids sitting on a log. 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his brash comments. Even with Ted’s aversion towards them, you didn’t quite understand the Pogue-Kook rivalry. You once asked Jade about it to which she just shrugged and said, “It’s just how it is.” 

She personally didn’t have anything against Pogues- as one was currently shoving his tongue down her throat in that moment. Though you didn’t interact much with their group, they seemed fine to you. Minus grumpy Goldey Locks on the log. 

Lost in your thoughts, you hardly noticed the tourist boy in front of you offer a shot of his Tito’s handle. The last time you had vodka, the awful taste nearly climbed back out your throat. But you were too fed up with your family and the Pogue boy’s irritating remarks to care. You closed your eyes, dipped back, and let the boy, dressed head-to-toe in Outer Banks merch, pour whatever he had in your mouth. It didn’t take long before everyone around you started looking fuzzy. A thumping noise in the back of your brain told you that you were way past your limit of about a sip and half. The music began sounding like loud thuds and you had no idea where Jade was. With all the strength you could muster up, you trudged up the beach back towards some palm trees to catch a breath, away from the clammy crowd. 

With one hand on the rugged trunk you bent over, knowing your stomach was rejecting all the alcohol you consumed that night. With one glance back towards the party, you felt the bitterness shoot its way back up your body and out hurled everything you drank onto the ground, a few coughs following. 

Out of nowhere, you felt a hand slide up your back as you lifted your head to see a hazy mess of blonde hair. “Here,” the snarky boy offered, holding up a water bottle, “you’ll feel better.” 

Begrudgingly, you took a few sips and handed it back to him. “Thanks.” 

You could see the party was starting to fizzle out, the water sobering you up. He downed the rest and tossed the empty bottle. 

“Fucking hell,” the guy, JJ, uttered, “You Kooks are way in over your heads.” 

“What’s your problem with me anyways?” you snapped, straightening up so you could meet his eyes. “I didn’t rat on you today! But now I’m thinking maybe I should have!” 

“See that’s the problem right there! You didn’t even catch me doing anything wrong. You just assumed I’m doing something bad because I don’t shit money out my ass.” 

“Well were you doing something bad?” 

“That is besides the point.” 

Your eyes were aching to roll out of your head. You hated the way he was talking to you and decided to play into this little hate-game of his since he seemed to get such a kick out of it. 

“Well, maybe if you kept your filthy head out of our side and up your own ass instead, we wouldn’t have an issue now would we?” 

He huffed and inched closer, causing you to back up against another tree, away from the vomit on the floor. “You entitled bitches think you know it all, probably from all that rip-off dank blowing up your head.” 

He was so close you could smell the faint alcohol on his breath. You were completely sober at that point, focusing on the eyes that probed into yours as JJ’s hands reached up to the sides of the tree, fencing you in. The music from the party was hardly a whisper compared to the tension between you two in that moment. The night was humid, but you weren’t sure if you were sweating from the heat or your jolting nerves. 

Then, a rush of boldness swept through you. 

“You talk a lot of shit for someone’s who’s dying to get into a Kook’s pants,” you tempted, glancing briefly at his lips. You then chose to taunt him even more- biting your own and sticking out your slightly exposed chest in the bodice of the dress you had on. 

He dauntingly moved closer, your faces only inches apart. “In your fucking dreams sweetheart,” he muttered before capturing your lips.

It was a hungry, needy kiss. You hardly knew anything about him, yet you didn’t protest when his hands reached up your stomach to roughly cup your boobs. They then glided down under the thinness of your dress to eagerly squeeze your butt. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, feeling the bareness of your ass underneath. His palm slapped your asscheek so hard, you were sure the entire beach could hear. 

Your hands crept down his bare chest, tracing over to his abs. Still on your ass, his hands kneaded at the swollen cheeks. You felt him pull away slightly after a bit. 

“Ever wonder what it’s like to fuck a Pogue?” 

“Just shut up and take me,” you answered hastily. His coarse hand trailed against your lower folds. He stroked over the material of your soaked thong before pushing the string to the side, his middle finger rubbing you gently. 

You reached in the band of his shorts to feel his hardened cock. You ran your hand up and down the shaft before exposing it out completely. He quickly lifted your leg to drape across his waist as he situated his length to your hole with his sweaty forehead resting on yours. 

Slowly, he pressed himself into you as a loud moan emerged from you both. The boy swiftly held his palm to your mouth while you felt him stretch you out slowly. Your eyes rolled back in bliss. 

“Fuck this pussy is tight,” he slopping mumbled in your ear as he continued, feeling your wetness grip him. 

He held a steady pace for a while before he suddenly halted and pulled out. Before you could protest, he grabbed the sides of your arms and whipped you around so you were facing the tree. When he snatched each side of your hips to pull you towards him, you quickly caught on, spreading your legs apart while arching your back so your ass was perked up and ready. He held his pulsing length in his hands, lining himself with you, before shoving it in full for you to take.

He bent over onto you and seized your chin with one hand to spin your head back for another kiss, tongue and all. “You look so pretty taking this dick,” he rasped as your careless whimpers echoed. 

JJ pounded deeper and deeper in you, yanking down the front of your dress so your breasts plopped free. He massaged them in his hands from behind. In response, your arched your back more, wanting to feel him- all of him inside you. As his thrusts slowed, he pulled out and pumped himself a few times before coming on your right asscheek. He slapped the left when he was done. 

You were breathing heavily, collecting yourself as you straightened up. “Not bad,” you panted as a cocky smirk rose on his face. 

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

note: WHEW CHILE! 

chapter 3

tags: @starkeybaby @obxlife @poguesforlife @everydayimfangirling @iamaunicorn4704 @tangledinsparkles 

LOV TAKES BAKUGOU

Angst? Little fluff at the end

Oc has a quirk like Wanda Maxoff

Putting Bakugou in his place 😤

Female reader x Bakugou

Warnings: none

Y/n insert is mine, but characters aren't

Bold italics means thoughts being spoken by Oc to others or herself if that makes sense???

When I finally came too, I tried to get a bearing of where I was, or at least remember what happened. The last thing I remembered was that me and Bakugou were kidnapped by the League of Villains and then were knocked unconscious.

“Oi. I know you're awake now.”

I open my eyes, squinting as my eyes get adjusted to the lights. I look to my left and see Bakugou tied, or should I say chained, to a cement chair. I look at my own situation, seeing that I was also chained to my chair. Well this is problematic. I said to myself, except it accidentally sent it to Bakugou as well.

Hey, get out of my head. He responded back to me.

“Sorry, whatever they did to knock us out really did a number on me. My brain is a little frazzled.” I had a huge headache and the coldness of the room wasn’t helping either. “How long have we been here?”

“Don’t know. I just woke up a few minutes before you did.”

I only hmm in response. After a few minutes he speaks up again. “I’m gonna get us out of here. There’s no way that I’m letting some dumb villains keep me here.”

“You got a plan? How can I help?” Despite his awful attitude I know he’s smart. There has to be a reason he’s been the top of the class all year. Right?

“What? Did you not hear me? I said I was gonna get us out of here!” Nevermind, he’s an idiot.

“Seriously? Again with this me, myself, and I attitude? You really haven't changed have you?” I sigh looking away from him. “Look. The fact of the matter is we have a better chance of getting out of here if we work together. The pros are probably already close to finding us and when they do we need as much information as we can to give to them. Tell me this. What was I gonna be doing in this plan of yours?” I look straight at him now. “Was I just gonna stay put or hide in the corner while you take out the bad guys? I was taken too. So, I have as much of a reason as you to fight my way out of this too.”

He looks away, his sharp features softening a little. He turns to look at me, and right when he’s about to say something to me the door opens.

“Well, well, well. Looks like the kiddos are finally awake.” Shigaraki, leader of the League of Villains says to us. “Dabi. Untie them.”

“What are you crazy? They’re just going to try and escape.” The presumed Dabi says.

“Nonsense, these are our guests. So, we should treat them as such.” Shigaraki replies back. “You see I brought you back here because I want you to join our group. And as for you l/n. I think you can have a promising future with us. I didn’t see you at the sports festival, but I do know from what my associates here told me is that you're strong. You want to protect your loved ones, right? I can promise you that soon the only way to do that will be if you join our side.” I stay quiet as he tries to convince me. Is this guy for real, he injures all these people, my classmates, and still thinks I'll join his side?

“Twice. You do it.” To the right of Dabi is a man dressed in a bodysuit from head to toe. 

“Why do I gotta do it!?” He says immediately followed by a “Yes Sir.”

Me and Bakugou glance at each other as Twice unties me first, then Bakugou. Wanna tell me that plan of yours cause now would be as good a time as any?

Just be ready. We're gonna need a shield for what I'm about to do.

Once Twice finishes untying Bakugou he sends a blast towards the villains. I put a shield blocking us from them. Shigaraki looks down at the ground, looking at the hand that was once on his face. Then, the news comes on the TV in the background. The media is trying to make Mr. Aisawa take the blame for what happened. IT WASN’T EVEN HIS FAULT. Suddenly Mr. AIzawa stands up.

“Bakugou’s trying harder than anyone in his pursuit to become the top hero. If the villains think they have a chance with him, then they are grossly mistaken. I can guarantee you that much. And as for l/n, she has a good head on her shoulders and a fierce determination to do the right thing and help others. If the villains think they can easily convince her to join their side, even after harming the rest of her classmates, then they have another thing coming.” Mr. Aizawa finishes.

Wow. The teachers really do get us. 

With a laugh Bakugou says, “Ha. Did you hear the teachers? They get me more than I thought. I’ll never join your league of idiots!”

“Me neither!” I am still trying to hold the shield up, protecting me and Bakugou. Then, Bakugou starts signaling to his head so I look inside.

They went through the trouble of mounting a huge attack, all just to bring me back here. The idiots even told us what they wanted. For us to join their pathetic group. Which means I know they won’t kill us. What a bunch of amateurs. Now’s our chance. We gotta take a couple of ‘em down quick, and get out of here.

I scanned all of the villains in front of us, checking to see if they were going to make a move at us. You're right. We need to get out of here fast. They may still want us to join, but now that we’ve told them that we won’t join, who knows what their next move will be.

Bakugou nods slightly and starts to yell, “WE MAY NOT BE AT CAMP, BUT WE’RE STILL ALLOWED TO FIGHT!” Then, the villains start to get ready to get ready to fight. Me and Bakugou get into a fighting position, but freeze when Shigaraki stares us dead in the eyes. 

“Don’t lay a finger on them. Any of you.” he says. He talks about how he hoped we could all come to an understanding, to which me and Bakugou shut down immediately.

“What do you think we’re the same? Not a chance.” Bakugou starts.

“We are nothing alike.” I stare at him.

“Master, lend me your power” Shigaraki looks back at the TV. Master? Who else is part of the League of Villains?

“Kurogiri. Compress. It’s time to put them back to sleep.” Compress starts walking up to us and I get ready to fight. Me and Bakugou need to get to the back door if we want any chance of getting out of here. But how?

Suddenly there is a knock from the back door followed by a faint “Pizza delivery” coming from behind it. We all stare at the door in anticipation, when the wall to the right of me caves in with All Might punching his way in. Then, pros start piling in, capturing all the villains at lightning speed. 

All Might walks up to us “Ah. you must have been scared, but you stayed strong. I’m sorry. You're both safe now.”

 

I let out a long sigh that I didn’t know I held in and looked at Bakugou. He looks like he’s on the verge of tears, but holds it in. I feel sorry for him. 

“WHAT I WASN'T SCARED! NOT EVEN CLOSE!” Bakugou yells back. I try to hold in a laugh and he looks at me. He calms down after that.

However, I stop when Shigaraki keeps yelling that he hasn’t lost yet. I get that he still has his “master,” but there’s no way he thinks he can still win, right? Out of nowhere, giant blobs appear and start coming out of them. I start to feel like vomiting and I spit up that same looking blob. What the heck. In a split second, I see Bakugou having the same problem. Then, all I see is black. I reappear next to Bakugou in what looks like a broken warehouse. We start coughing up the rest of the blob.

“My apologies Bakugou, l/n.” I look up and see a large man with a mask on. So this must be the main bad guy.

The rest of the League of Villains start to appear around us, closing us in. “Master” starts to walk and talk to Shigaraki. I move closer to Bakugou, getting ready to fight or run in an instant. If my head wasn’t spinning before it sure was now. I move my hand to my head trying to alleviate the throbbing. It slows down a little, but it’s still there. Bakugou notices this and moves in front of me.

“Ah. There you are.” The man with the mask looks up at the sky and I try to see what he does.

All Might flies through the air aiming for him. “I’ll have you return my students. All For One!” So, that’s his name. I feel relieved when I see him, but frown when the bad guy is able to block All Might's punch. I’ve never seen a villain block his punch before. Dodge, ya, but not block. Due to the punch a large blast sends everyone. I put up a shield trying to stand my ground, but I can feel myself slipping. I’ve also lost Bakugou and can’t see him due to all the dust. When the dust settles I look around for him and see him a few feet behind me. The rest of the villains have also been thrown, but they aren’t too far either. Another blast and All Might is sent flying. Me and Bakugou need to get out of here so All Might can get All For One.

All For One grabs Kurogiri and activates his quirk, opening a large warp gate. I then notice all the villains looking at us also getting ready to grab us.

“This is gonna be fun,” Bakugou says and I put a smirk on my face, staring down at the villains. They all start attacking us one by one. They try to separate us and I put my practice from camp to work. I send blast after blast, and put shields up to block their blasts and weapons as well. Some of their blows are getting too close for comfort.

Me and Bakugou wind up standing back to back. Waiting for the villains to make another move. Then, I see ice and energy from the corner of my eye and look up. I see Deku, Kirishima, and Iida flying through the air. By now Bakugou had noticed too. Then I hear Kirishima yell, “Come on!” That’s all it took for me and Bakugou to send ourselves flying to reach them. Shigaraki tries to reach out to me, but before he can reach me I blast him away, throwing him away. Bakugou grabs one of Kirishima's hands and I grab the other. I hear Compress and look to see him flying towards us. Then, Mt. Lady grows to her full height and blocks him. I start to see the ground getting closer and closer.

“Hold on!” I yell to the boys and I throw a shield around all of us. It softens our fall but the shield comes undone as we roll on the ground. 

“Is everybody okay?” I hear Iida ask and everyone says they’re fine. Midoriya lends me a hand to help me get up and I gladly accept it.

“Come on guys, we need to meet up with the others,” Midoriya said.

“Others?” I ask. He tells me that Todoroki and Yayurozu also came with them to save us. After meeting up with them in the city square we look towards the TV billboard and see All Might and All For One still fighting. Everyone is holding their breath, Yoshida holding my hand tightly, as we see All Might fighting for his life. Blow after blow and hit after hit, All Might is struggling to win. After one last punch, one called the United States of Smash, All Might is the victor. 

He then points at the camera and says, “Now, it’s your turn.” The whole crowd erupts in cheers for All Might. What does that mean? That’s a weird thing to say after winning a battle. I hear crying behind me and notice Midoriya sobbing. I get that he likes the guy, he's practically his mentor, but still. Shouldn't he be cheering? Not crying?

"Come on guys." Yarouzu interrupts my train of thought. "We should get you guys to the police and a hospital." We head off to the police station and me and Bakugou give our statements to the police and the pros. Eventually we are taken to a hospital, but are released just as soon as we enter since we had very few injuries. Mainly just some bumps and a few scratches.

Before heading out of the hospital and going home with my parents, I see Bakugou with his parents and called out to him. When he sees me I signal to him if we could talk for a second. We meet in the hallway and I hug him. He's stiff for the longest time, but eventually gives me a small hug.

"Thanks for saving us out there hero." I told him. After breaking apart I give him a small smile and turn to leave. Then I stop and turn to him and say, "What we went through was crazy, and I'm sure none of our classmates are going to understand. So, anytime you wanna talk, just give me a call." With that I turn back to my family and leave.