#but its not like...anyone ive mentioned will ever fucking read it. even consider to
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Get Him Back - Rafe Cameron 18+
* HI ITS BEEN A WHILE SINCE IVE WRITTEN ANYTHING BUT IM HERE NOW
* TBH THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT SO BARE WITH ME
* This is so super long and also completely filthy at parts SO MDNI and pls read warnings
* little bit of fluff? Def some pretty smutty smut. This did not start out as smut but here we are
* WRITTEN IN Y/N’s POV, lots of dialogue
*anything in italics is your inner monologue
Word count: 4K
WARNINGS: MDNI!, mentions of cheating (not rafe), toxic ex, oral (giving and receiving), fingering, rough-ish??, p in v sex, hair pulling, light choking??, not rated e for everyone
The rain is pouring down in sheets. Falling harder than it has in a while. My head is pounding from holding back tears, that I might as well let out. I never thought that I would be in this situation. Forced out of my boyfriend's car after a fight at nearly one in the morning, with a dead phone, left to walk home alone in the pouring rain. How cliche. Not to mention the fact that I’m just over three miles away from home. What a dick. Some “man” he is to leave me like that. For all he cares, I could be kidnapped out here. However, it's highly unlikely being that I’m wandering in one of (if not the nicest) neighborhoods in this entire state. Constantly guarded by a neighborhood watch, with gated community after gated community.
I can see the the sharp rain plummeting down in the glow of the street lights. Unlucky for me, the wind has picked up too making this walk even more miserable. At this point, I have two options; 1. I could continue to walk home in this miserable weather OR 2. I could lose all dignity and show up to Sarah’s house after not talking to her in months. Seeing as this storm is showing absolutely no sign of stopping, its looking like the second option is better. As I turn the corner, I approach the Seabrook Gated Community. A little ways down is the fence that Sarah and I used to hop all the time when we would sneak out. That’s my in. It’s an old rusty fence that is hidden behind some overgrown hedges behind some wildly overpriced house that rarely ever has anyone living in it.
After nearly slipping off of the slippery fence, I make my way down the street to Tanny Hill. Mentally preparing myself for the absolute humiliation that will occur if Sarah opens the front door. We had our falling out about 3 months ago and we haven't spoken since. We have tried our best to avoid each other at all costs. At least I’ve tried avoiding her, that is, until this very moment.
As I approach the front lawn, I genuinely consider turning around and quite literally braving the storm and walking home. As it is, I’m already soaked from head to toe and probably on the verge of pneumonia. However, I shake off my thoughts and walk towards the front door. I knock three times in hope that someone will hear. I don’t ring the doorbell out of fear of waking up the entire Cameron household which is the last thing I need to do. After a few seconds, nobody answers. This house is huge maybe they are coming. I convince myself that nobody is answering the door so I turn accepting my fate and I walk away. Suddenly, I hear the front door unlock and my breath gets caught in my throat when I hear his voice.
“Y/N? Is that you?” Fuck. Me.
“Hey Rafe.” I choke out. God I probably look insane.
“What are you doing here?” he looks at his phone “at 1:26 in the morning.”
“Um. Is Sarah home?” I spit out, trying to avoid conversation.
“She’s not…but I am.” He leans against the door frame looking me up and down in a ‘you good?’ way. “You also didn’t answer my question.” He adds.
“I uh…I didn’t know where else to go.” I say quietly. I was right. This is in fact humiliating. He just stands there and stares at me. Clearly unamused at the fact that I still haven't answered his question as to why I am standing on his front porch looking like a wet dog. I would stare too. “Are you gonna let me inside? Or are you just gonna keep staring at me in silence.” I add.
“That depends.” He says lookin back into the house then back at me. “Are you gonna tell me why you’re here? Or are you just gonna avoid the question.” Touche. We stand here in silence for a moment as he watches me get pelted in the face by the rain and I chatter my teeth. He finally pushes the door open further and gestures for me to come inside. Thank go Sarah isn’t home because I would be shitting myself out of embarrassment right now. I walk in and Rafe opens a hallway in the closet as he reaches in and grabs a towel that he throws at me. “If You get anything wet, Rose will lose her shit.”
“How kind.” I say with strong notes of sarcasm.
“Hey I didn’t have to let you in. I could've just left you outside on your own.” he’s right.
“Well you wouldn’t be the first guy to leave me outside tonight, so I probably would’ve been fine” I blurt out without thinking. What happened to me tonight is none of his business. Plus I’m sure he will hear about it anyway. However, he did let me inside which he did not have to do, so I could at least pretend to be grateful.
“Damn. That's rough. Sorry about that.” he almost sounded embarrassed.
“No, it's fine. Thanks for the towel.” he nods and sits down at the kitchen counter. We stand in silence for a bit as I ring my hair out into the sink. This couldn’t be more awkward. Here I am standing in my ex best friend’s house with her older brother, who was in fact my first kiss in a game of truth or dare years ago, and who happens to be the best friend of my boyfriend who just dumped me on the side of the road in the middle of the night. This is just grand. “Do you have a phone charger? My phone is completely dead.”
“Uh yeah its upstairs. Do you wanna-” he cut himself off before speaking again. “Do you just wanna come up with me so you can change?” Right. So. Apparently this absolutely CAN feel more awkward. Whatever. I need to charge my phone and honestly a change of clothes sounds devine. I silently follow Rafe up the stairs and into his room. “If you want you can take a shower to warm up. Your teeth haven’t stopped chattering since you got here.” he’s being frighteningly nice.
“Um sure.” I say hesitantly as I am incredibly confused by his nice attitude. I plug in my phone and Rafe hands me one of his old t-shirts and a pair of booty shorts that were surely left here by some random girl, but honestly I don’t care. I have to get out of these clothes. “Thanks.” I say taking the clothes and entering his bathroom, closing and locking the door quickly behind me. Literally what the fuck. There is no way this is really happening.
I take my time in the shower as I let the steaming hot water warm me up for a while. When I’m done, I put on the clothes that Rafe gave me, and open the bathroom door seeing him sitting on his bed, scrolling through his phone.
“Hey Topper called you like five times when you were in the shower.” He says unfazed. My attitude shifts almost immediately.
“You didn’t answer it did you?” I blurt out. Nice job y/n! That wasn’t suspicious at all!
“No…why would I?” he laughs clearly confused as I let out a sigh of relief. Once again. Awkward silence. I take a seat on the edge of the bed going through my phone. “Are you gonna call him back?” he asks. Before I could answer him, his phone starts to ring. Toppers name is displayed on the screen. Rafe looks at his phone, then back to me, then back to his phone.
“I am NOT here. Answer it. Put it on speaker.” I say frantically. Now he's intrigued.
“Hey Top!” Rafe answers. “Rafe! I fucked up man. I fucked up BAD! I’m coming over. I need a drink asap.” I am immediately shaking my head and mouthing ‘no’. “Top I can’t tonight man. My dad is on my ass and if Rose finds out I have someone over, I’m dead bro.” Is he seriously helping me right now?
Topper scoffs on the other line. “Since when have you given a shit about what Rose thinks? I’m already on my way!”
“Then turn around and go home man. I can’t tonight.”
“What is up with you dude? You never turn down a drink” its silent for a minute “Oh shit do you have a chick over right now?” Im disgusted at the change in tone in Top’s voice when he brings up Rafe having a girl over.
“Yeah bro I do. And she’s alone right now in my bed so I gotta go. I'll call you tomorrow.” Rafe responds, very quick to go along with Topper’s question.
“That’s my man!” Topper laughs “is she hot? She better be hot!”
Even Rafe rolls his eyes at Topper’s comment. “Yeah she’s hot. Okay gotta go man.” Rafe responds as he hangs up the phone. Is that true, does he think I’m hot? I don’t care. Do I?
I let out a huge sigh of relief that we dodged the bullet of Top showing up here.
“So. Are you gonna tell me why I just had to lie to my best friend?”
I shift nervously. “Well technically you didn’t lie. There is a ‘chick’ here and she is sitting on your bed.” I try to make a joke avoiding this conversation at all costs.
“Y/n.” He says, raising his eyebrows. He clearly wants an answer.
“I broke up with Top and he didn’t take it well.” I say on an exhale. He doesn’t say anything because he’s not stupid. He has probably figured out that much already. I let out a heavy sigh. “He kicked me out of his car in the middle of the road three miles away from my house in the fucking rain because I accused him of cheating on me. He told me that I had no idea what I was talking about. He said I was crazy, and that I was making shit up. But I’m not. I know for a fact that I’m not. It’s not the first time either. He’s done it before, which I’m sure you already know since you’re his best friend and he probably tells you everything.” I make that realization as I’m rambling my story out to him. Rafe is probably well aware of Topper’s lack of loyalty.
“I uh. I knew about it the first time.” He admits. His honestly with the situation makes me laugh a little as I roll my eyes.
“Of course you did. Being that it was with your sister. I’d be shocked if you didn’t know.” The look on Rafe’s face instantly changes. It’s almost like he’s holding something back. “Unless…Sarah wasn’t the first girl was she. There was someone else.” Tears that I have been pushing back for weeks start to well in my eyes. Not because I’m sad, but because I’m furious. Even Rafe doesn’t know what to say. Without thinking, I grab my wet clothes and my barely charged phone, and head towards his bedroom door. “I should go. Thanks for the shower and-”
“Y/n don’t be ridiculous” he says quickly following me. “You can’t leave right now that storm is getting worse” He puts his hand on the door, shutting it.
I turn and he is standing close enough to me to create an odd sort of tension.
“Why don’t you get him back?” Rafe suggests as I roll my eyes.
“I don’t want to get back with him Rafe I’m so ov-” he cuts me off.
“That’s not what I’m saying. I mean get him back. As in revenge.” he says as he steps closer to me. Jesus Christ I’m an absolute idiot.
“Revenge…right.” I laugh awkwardly. He continues to inch closer, creating an even bigger amount of tension. Not that tension is an unfamiliar thing with Rafe and I. There has always been a weird tension between us. Ya know…the whole best friends brother thing. I’ve known Rafe for almost 10 years. Something about his cocky attitude has always been attractive to me. Call it toxic. I don’t care. It’s just the truth. Rafe and I are standing right infront of each other. He is towering over me as my back is still to the door.
“You know…They say that one of the best ways to get over a guy is to get under another.” He almost whispers while moving my hair out of my face. I can’t help but blush. The thought of getting back at Topper crossed my mind the second he cheated on me. The thought of getting back at him by hooking up with his best friend? That’s even better. Rafe leans down and starts to kiss my neck. “Rafe we probably shouldn’t do this” I whisper clearly enjoying it.
“Of course we shouldn’t. But I do shit that I shouldn’t do all the time.” He stops kissing my neck to look me in the face.
“Me too” I nod letting out a breath as I crash my lips onto his. The kiss is instantly filled with an insane amount of intensity. Rafe backs me up against the wall as he deepens the kiss. He moves from my mouth to my neck, leaving hickeys all over. He is making sure that I can’t hide what we are doing. And I’m totally here for it. His hands move from my hair, to my hips, to underneath the hem of my shirt. Well. Technically his shirt. I’m braless since my bra got soaked in that rain earlier. He quickly realizes this as his hand grazes over my tits. He starts to grip them while kissing me, making me moan softly until he stops for a second.
“As hot as you look in my shirt…it’s coming off” he nearly growls. I lift my arms as he lifts the shirt over my head and throws it across the room. I reach for his shirt to take it off. Once he takes it off his mouth is back on mine. Our foreheads are pressed together as our bare chests are rising and falling against each other. He hoists me up, grabbing my ass as I throw my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. We don’t last long against the wall before we move to the bed.
He lays me down on the edge of the bed as he hovers over me kissing me yet again. Each kiss gets more aggressive. We bite each other's lips between kisses. He moves his mouth from my lips to my neck leaving more marks. Slowly, he makes his way to my chests. The marks he makes get darker and darker. He puts his mouth over my nipple, making me moan as he slightly bites down. He quickly moves his hand up to cover my mouth.
“Shhh. Baby we gotta stay quiet.” He says as he moves from one nipple to the other. I moan into his hand as he stifles the sound that comes out. His hand moves from my mouth to my throat as he wraps his hand around it lightly. His lips meet mine again. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” holy shit. I moan into our kiss as his hand is on my throat. His hand travels down my body until its hovering over my shorts. He’s moving his hand from one thigh to the other. Barely grazing the spot where I need him the most. I breathe into our kiss as his hand stops at the waistband of my shorts. He’s such a fucking tease. He hovers his hand there for a minute sensing that I want more.
“Oh my God Rafe” I moan out of anticipation.
“You want more baby?” he smirks against my lips.
“You know I do” Smartass.
“Say less” he moves from his position above me, to kneeling on the floor at the edge of the bed. He hooks his fingers around the waistband of my shorts, pulling them down, revealing my bare pussy. He pulls me closer to the edge of the bed and spreads my legs in one swift motion, causing my breath to hitch. He leans down and attaches his mouth to my clit. This of course causes another accidental moan to slip from my mouth. I immediately throw my own hands over my mouth to quiet the noise. His tongue is swirling circles over my clit as he inserts two fingers without warning. As hard as I am trying to stifle my sounds, nothing could stop the groan that I let out at this moment. He moves his fingers at a faster pace that matches what his tongue is doing.
“Holy Shit Rafe.” I whine.
“You like that?” he smirks up at me. I nod and roll my eyes to the back of my head before shutting them tightly. But suddenly Rafe stops. “Open your eyes y/n. I want you to look at me when you cum. I want you to see who is making you feel this good.” I do as he says and open my eyes as I prop myself up on my elbows to get a better view. “Atta girl” He smirks before burying his face into me yet again. He adds a third finger as I throw my head back while remaining eye contact. He curls his fingers as he eats me out and I want to scream at the pressure building up inside of me. I reach forward and tangle my fingers through his hair as he grins up towards me.
“Rafe! Oh my God” I let out a string of other soft noises and words.
“Go ahead baby. Cum for me,” I look Rafe in the eyes as I jerk my hips and arch my back, completely unraveling in front of him. As he removes his fingers from inside of me, he brings them up to my mouth. “I want you to see how good you taste.” he says as I take his fingers into my mouth until they are clean. He removes his fingers from my mouth and laces his hands through my hair as he devours me with a kiss.
“That was incredible.” I breathe heavily.
“Oh we aren’t done yet princess.” the sound of him calling me princess was enough to nearly send me over the edge again.
“I’d hope not” I tangle my tongue with his as he deepens the kiss by pulling my hair back. I reach for his pants and I undo his belt.
“Eager are we?” he scoffs, pulling away for a moment. He removes his belt and his pants. Leaving his boxers for me to remove. I gesture for him to sit on the edge of the bed where I just was. When he sits, I climb onto his lap, straddling him over his boxers. I can tease too. I lean in kissing him as I slowly start to rock back and forth on his lap. I can feel him getting harder by the second. To be honest this is doing just as much for me as it is for him. I start to kiss his neck, leaving marks similar to the ones he left on me. I start to rock faster back and forth until he is letting out moans the way I was. I cover his mouth.
“I thought we had to stay quiet.” I give him a sly smile before kneeling on the floor and removing his boxers. I come face to face with his cock as I run my tongue up the side, looking up at him while I do it. I move my tongue to the other side slowly, taking my sweet time.
“Fuck y/n” Rafe groans as he places his hand in my hair.
I wrap my mouth around the head of his cock and start to suck slowly, using my hands to work the rest that I can’t fit in my mouth. I bob my head up and down while I look up at him, my eyes are starting to water. He grabs my head and slightly pushes me down further, and I can feel his tip hit my throat. When it does Rafe lets out a deep moan with a mumbled string of “oh fucks”. After a few minutes, I can sense that he is going to cum. I don’t bother asking where he wants to finish before he finishes in my mouth. I swallow and look up at him with a smile.
“Holy shit. You really know what you’re doing.” He lets out a heavy content sigh. “We still aren't done yet. I need to be inside you.” He says laying me back down on the bed. I still cannot believe that this is happening.
Rafe wastes no time climbing on top of me leaving sloppy kisses up my chest and meeting my mouth with his. “You sure about this?” He looks down at me.
“Never been more sure about anything.” I nod.
“Good” He says as he grabs a condom from his nightstand and puts it on. Seconds later, he is lining himself up at my entrance. His tongue plunges into my mouth as he enters inside of me. His cock stretched my pussy perfectly. He moves with smooth motions leaving us both moaning into each other's mouths as he starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts. He brings his hand to my throat once again,barely applying pressure, making me let out a moan that was too loud to be stifled. He doesn’t seem to care.
“You like when my hands are around your neck?” He whispers in my ear.
“Yes! Oh my god yes” I am starting to get louder. He moves his hand from my throat to my mouth to keep me quiet again. I moan into his hand as his thrusts hit the perfect spot inside of me. He can tell that he has hit the spot when my hips start to buck in perfect rhythm with his thrusts. I am almost screaming into his hand. As he leans down to kiss me again.
“You gonna cum with me?” he asks, pressing his forehead against mine. I nod unable to speak, to stop myself from screaming. “Words y/n. Use your words”
“Fuck yes. I’m gonna cum!” I whine out. He thrusts in and out a few more times, hitting the spot perfectly making me squirm underneath him. With one final thrust, I arch my back as I scratch my nails down his, definitely leaving scratch marks. We cum simultaneously as we let out deep and hungry moans into each other's mouths. He just gave me the best orgasm I have ever had. He pulled out and laid next to me.
“Holy shit. I’ve waited so long to do that.” he says looking at me out of breath.
“Me too. I always had a crush on you ya know.” I say looking at him equally as out of breath.
“Yeah I know.” He smiles and lets out a soft chuckle.
“Took you long enough to do something about it.” I laugh back.
“Thank God I did. And I plan on doing it again. Just so you know.” I winked at me
“I’d hope so.” I smile, laying there next to him. He was right. That was the best way to get over someone.
** hi! I really hope you liked this. If you did and want to see more let me know what you want to see! I had fun writing this and in my many many years of writing fanfics this is somehow my first time writing smut so I hope it was okay lol ❤️
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe smut#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#rafe cameron smut#obx fanfic#rafe cameron#rafe obx#obx fanfiction#outerbanks rafe#drew starkey#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe x female!mc#obx smut
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Tried to follow only to discover I already am. Good job, past me. Thoughts on the changes made to Rose’s character with each reboot?
YES i have so many thoughts
first of all. the new 52 was the worst thing to ever happen to rose and im not exaggerating even a little. she started out as a superboy side character (???) as an assassin that was hired to kill him if he didnt do what they wanted ? then she became a ravager and hunted people down
but the WORST part of the new52 is that they either didnt know or didnt care about lillian worth and they just. made rose one of slade and adeline's kids. and had him raise her.
also she was the oldest child of her and joey, which is nowhere near the same level of awful as the whitewashing but still makes me uncomfortable
yeah so. new 52 was fucking terrible. that is not rose even a little i do not know this woman
but REBIRTH fixed so much <3 christopher priest my bff <3 i am once again recommending deathstroke 2016 bc it has so many good moments and i think its worth reading
the first time rose showed up lillian worth was mentioned!!!!! she was there!!!!! <33333 the timeline was changed a little but i can forgive that bc!!! LILI!!!!!
the problem is that the book made her hmong instead of cambodian and i dont really know why??? but also ive said it before but,,, as much as it makes me upset bc asian identities shouldnt just be interchangeable,,,, this was the first time it was even mentioned that she was half asian since the 90s!!!! and she had a whole arc about her hmong heritage and her family!!!!!!
AND she didnt kill anyone in that book iirc :') the closest she got to killing someone was when she was in the middle of a breakdown then shado killing him for her instead which!!!! i love so so much bc rose does not kill a lot despite what some writers want you to believe. pre52 she has like maybe 3 murders that i would consider in character so the fact that she doesnt kill anyone in ds2016 is so fucking real
anyways ill also count infinite frontier as a reboot bc i love to talk about my opinions
there werent a lot of clear changes in infinite frontier BUT. technically her cutting her eye out is canon rn. in deathstroke inc theres a flashback of her stabbing her eye, and also in dark knights death metal (?) shes drawn with an eyepatch
then she was in robin 2021 which was . eh. it wasnt BAD for her but it was just kinda her continuing to kill ppl ig :( but she was drawn so nice in that book so ill forgive it
side note i still hate the idea of respawn so that bothered me in this book. also what they did to connor hawke is unforgivable so its a net loss but whatever
anyways i think thats all my thoughts. in conclusion: new52 bad. rebirth mostly good. infinite frontier eh. and my own personal interpretation is perfect always.
#thats not even mentioning the fact that she gave up the name ravager in ds2016#which i LOVE but everyone just. forgot about it.#not fair#also im choosing to ignore the fact that that hmong family was paid by slade#bc i have a lot of thoughts about what that means for her but i dont want to derail all of this#but also also. ds16 is so fucking funny. remember when rose got married just to spite slade#rose wilson#dc
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CHAPTER 14: I CANT STAND THIS ANYMORE
wc: 6054
tags: violence, attempted s/a, smut, angst, drugs
a/n: this chapter might be triggering for some people, read at your own risk.
prev chapter
yaera
i havent been to one of these events since i was fifteen. that doesnt sound like a long time, but considering my sister was still alive then, it certainly felt like forever had passed.
the dress i was given is pretty at least. its black, has long sleeves and looks like it was designed for a sexy vampire. one good thing came out of this shitfest.
but the best part is, i can hide san's drugs within my outfit. im not stashing them in matching black purse because it'll get searched, but the tiny ziplock bags fit perfectly in my sleeves and boob area. this will truly be the riskiest thing ive ever done.
irina and the others even messaged me not to forget the stuff. im so focused on just getting that money the fear i had buried inside me hasnt completely resurfaced yet.
im staring at myself in the mirror, looking at my smokey eye make up. the black hair dye really gave me a morbid yet sexy aesthetic that im not bad about. if i could describe myself in two words, it would be exactly that, morbid and sexy.
the sexy part is what bothers me. i know there are people who would agree all too willingly with that. and its not my target audience.
my room door swings open and my mother walks in. theres a strange look on her face as she takes me in. we say nothing to each other for a few moments till she breaks the silence.
"bellisima," she says, almost under her breath. "we can really never go wrong with santo. he made you look like a princess, even if you look like you are going to a funeral."
my insides squirm at the mention of his name. i tried to ignore it, but the fear i felt in that bathroom is coming back full swing. im seeing him tonight. he'll be waiting for me.
"please don't do this again this year," i stiffly begged. "you need to find someone your own age Santo. I'm...I'm not the one."
santo cocks his head to the side and smirks. "and who told you that? who said you're not perfect for me?"
"i don't fucking want you," I hissed. his eyes widen slightly, more out of sick arousal instead of offense.
he advanced on me and i blinked, finding myself pressed against a stall. i whimpered and tried to wriggle out of his grip, but my arms were pinned to the side. oh my God, I'm going to be sick.
"but I want you, and you know that. so why don't you stop playing games," he whispered dangerously close to my ear. i shivered and my nausea kept tugging at my stomach.
"i'm your only chance at a respectable man. your parents already love me. so why don't you accept the love I have for you? you'll never find anyone like me, tesoro."
"i fucking hope so," i whispered, pinching my eyes closed. he moved his face infront of mine, hovering his lips over mine. I whined and wriggle, but he isn't fazed by my struggling.
"you're a big girl now, right?" he said lowly. "i think it's time you feel like a woman."
i snap out of that awful memory when my mother clicks her fingers infront of my face. "come on, hurry up! we are only waiting on you!"
i cant leave san's side tonight. no matter what.
when i get downstairs, my nearly feel the breath getting knocked out of me. he's standing there, looking more handsome than i've ever seen him. black hair slicked back, eyebrows done. the suit is sitting perfectly. its like he's the model here and not me. god i think im going to be sick.
he gives me a small smile but says nothing.
"doesn't she look perfect, amore mio?" my mother says to my father, who only gives an awkward smile of acknowledgement.
"the two of you can sit at the back of the limo. your mother and i will take the two front seats," my father says, then turns to san with a pointed finger. "dont get any ideas, boy. i know your headmaster personally."
san awkwardly laughs. "i would never, sir."
i try not to wonder how true that is. we pile into the limo and my parents keep looking at us through the rearview, making sure there's a significant gap between us. i look over to him and all the anger i felt before is just gone. i think im fucking whipped.
hes the most beautiful man ive ever seen.
"san..."
"you look really pretty," he tells me before i can say anything. saying that with the most expressionless face makes my face drop.
"oh-"
"i just wanted to say that. you really do."
i dont know what to say. the limo is dim so i dont know if he can see how flushed i feel. he leans forward and i think hes about to kiss me. i hope for it. i dont even care if my parents are nearby.
"where are you hiding the stuff?" he whispers. oh right, his drugs.
i show him my sleeves, how the pills are pressed finely between the folds. then i point to my bust. "others are in here," i say.
he chuckles lowly. "creative. you can give me some if you need more space."
if san gets caught with this my parents would end him. everything he worked to achieve would be gone in less than 2 days.
"i think i should keep it. just in case anything happens. you know, rich girl immunity."
san nods and leans back away from me, making me feel empty. "of course."
no words are exchanged between us for a few moments. so we're really going to pretend like the party didnt happen? did that mean it was never going to happen ever again. i dont want to sound desperate but my head is screeching for answers.
but i focus on what matters tonight. putting on a show. getting irina and the others their drugs and collecting payment. and most of all, escaping santo.
"san, can you do me a favour?" i ask.
he hesitates but nods anyway.
"dont leave my side tonight. please."
he rubs the back of his head nervously. "well, i am your date. and i dont know anyone else here."
god. he doesnt realize how bad i need him.thats the thing, i need him more than he needs me. i can never delete what i have on him. i never know when this will go sideways.
the party is at some hotel. when we get there, i can tell the reception is intimidating to san. the cameras, the flashing lights. the security. i grab his hand and he doesnt protest as we go inside. both of us get patted down by security guards, of course the drugs go undetected.
we go inside and the dinner set up is fancy as fuck. i look at san and i cant tell if hes forcing the coolness to not have a panic attack, but his face is blank. i spot irina and the others at a table and wave, my mother dragging us to a separate table with our name on it.
theres a stage with a massive projection screen, where a slideshow of the lingerie collection plays. i know at some point the pictures from the shoot will play out as well. im hoping to sneak off before then because i cant handle the embarrassment.
"so this is your life huh," san mutters next to me. i frown, his tone sounds disappointed.
"whats wrong?" i ask.
"nothing. just...i cant believe it sometimes."
hes been acting so weird. is he insecure? fuck i.dont even know where to start placing questions. my stomach sinks a little at his tone. i guess he'll never get it. he doesnt understand what im really running from. i doubt he ever will. that class disconnect will keep beating our ass.
to him, anything is better than being in a gang. i guess hes right. but that doesnt mean there arent things out there that would make you want to kill yourself. i would know.
santo walks out on the stage and everyone starts clapping like this is the oscars. "good evening everyone, buenos noches, buonasera, and everything else! welcome to the launch of the new Cosa Pericolosa brand. a brand distinct for its dangerous yet delicate beauty, made of the finest Italian lace and silk. i want to thank everyone for coming to celebrate and enjoy this milestone. there will be dancing and there will be a party, saluto!"
as soon as he gets off that stage, i see his face find my parents table. hes coming straight for us. i instantly grab san's hand under the table. he turns to me utterly confused, but i cant deal with that right now.
"mi famiglia!" santo loudly says and kisses my parents on the cheek. he gets to me and does the same, his kiss lingering on me longer than i wanted. i suppress a shiver. "tesoro, you look beautiful in the dress i picked! im so glad to see everyone here!"
"we could not have done it without you, santo!" my mother gushes. "you look so handsome!"
"ah, you are making me shy. it is really you people who are stealing the show, wait till you see how the pictures turned out!" he laughs obnoxiously, turning to smile at me.
"im so glad you are here, tesoro. it is good to finally have you back. your sister would be proud of you."
"thank you, santo." i force a smile. when really i want to scream. dont fucking bring her up, i want to scream it. but i force a stupid, docile smile. fuck if this night goes on for any longer, i might end up doing these drugs myself.
"hold on, who is this," santo finally acknowledges san. he holds out his hand to him. "i am santo falcone. but you can call me santo, you are?"
"that is yaera's date," my mother chimes in as san awkwardly takes his hand. "san choi. he is a classmate."
"oh," santo's smile tightens and he glances at me. "just a classmate?"
my father forces a laugh. "of course. do you know me? she can meet someone when it is time to get married."
santo grips san's hand for an uncomfortable amount of time till he ends up needing to rip it away. "nice to meet you, san choi. excuse me, i will return to you all. i have to greet the other guests and then have them run the music. you all enjoy the night."
he leaves, giving me a weird look before going. is he fucking jealous? does he seriously think he owns me? i dont know how my sister worked with him. hes so fucking creepy and somehow that never came up between us.
irina and the others arrive at our table next, greeting my parents with hugs and kisses. "can we steal yaera for a second? she looks so gorgeous!" claire says, gushing.
"no really, i want to rip that dress off you!" anya says. my mother rolls her eyes and laughs.
"please girls, bring her back in one piece for the show." my mother says. a smirk i know to be devious grows on irina's lips.
"oh we will, dont worry, mrs marino."
im so happy to get up from that table. san grabs my dress and looks up like a lost kid. "where are you going? dont leave me by myself here," he says under his breath.
awww hes so awkward. "ill be right back. dont miss me too much."
his eyes are desperate and his smile is so forced its hilarious. "youre really going to leave me with your parents?"
"dont worry she'll be back!" anya tells him, noticing him holding my dress. "your boyfriend is so clingy, yaera."
i can tell san is trying not to murder her with his glare. not more can be said because im whisked away. we end up in the bathrooms that look like something out of the louvre. anya and claire start taking mirror selfies while irina starts putting the money down on the sink.
"all of it is here, you can count it yourself. now where are the stuff?" she says. i start unrolling my sleeves, taking four of the bags out, getting the other five from my boobs.
anya and claire quickly come scrambling. "oh god, finally!" claire says. "we've been waiting so long."
"is it really that good?" i wonder, their relief is crazy to see. "better than what you already do?"
"alone its okay. but together with what we already do? a fucking trip to the skies," irina shakes her head with a smile. "ive never been so glad to know you, marino."
mixing drugs. that doesnt sound smart. but what do i know? im not the addict.
i smile and take the money, folding it back into my boobs. "youre welcome. and you know if you need more, where to call me."
"of course. and you better answer."
"your boyfriend is so fucking hot yaera," anya says with a sigh. "hes literally gorgeous. where did you find him?"
"careful, you cougar. you cant be talking about an 18 year old like that," i joke.
"im not even twenty three shut the fuck up!" she shoves at my shoulder.
"so he is your boyfriend?" claire smiles. the three of them coo like children when i start blushing.
"im getting there guys," i say. "hopefully soon."
"what do his parents do? he looks like a model himself." claire says.
"you know this is yaera, hes probably crazy as fuck. like the last one, what was his name?" irina chimes in with a snort. "i bet this one is the reason she has drugs in the first place."
i scowl at her. shes right but i hate that she read me so easily. "bitch, just enjoy my services. goddamn it you people are nosy."
she raises an eyebrow. "am i right though?"
i roll my eyes and start to leave, saluting on my way out. "im getting back now to my date now, goodbye ladies."
luckily when i get out, theres music playing and people are on the floor. san is sitting alone by the table, taking random sips out of a champagne glass. im so excited. i actually got money back for us. i throw my hands onto his shoulders and smile widely, unable to hold my excitement.
"so guess who collected their first payment?"
san's eyes widen. "all the money there?"
"every last note. so i think to celebrate we should dance."
san frowns and cringes. "i dont dance. im fine here."
i roll my eyes and grab his hand, pulling him up with a hard tug. "is it a sin for you to do ANYTHING fun? the music is playing and we have something to celebrate, come on."
he sighs and gives in with a lame smile. "fine."
i lead him to the dancefloor, swinging my arms around his neck. san's hands drop to my lowerback as we sway and i cant ignore the happiness bubbling in my brain. i cant stop smiling.
"you seem really happy," he notes. "you're getting a big head from your first payment huh?"
"of course. its just what i needed to prove myself to you. that i can pull my weight and that im not just some liability."
"i never said that-"
"yes you did san. many times." i remind him, and his cheeks flush from.embarrassment. "i can even quote you on it if you want?"
"please dont," he chuckles under his breath. "fine, i guess you can pull your weight."
his dimples are piercing through. i stare at him mesmerized and i cant even hide it. i bet if i was a cartoon in this very moment, i'd be having stars in my eyes.
"you're perfect, you know that?" i say without thinking.
san's eyes widen, then darken in seconds. "what?" his voice is just barely together.
"i want to kiss you again," i admit. "i think its all i'll want for a really long time."
i lightly stroke his cheeks, seeing them go rosey. this is all i have. the only thing that shows me that i do affect him.
his eyes dart down to my lips and i shrink the distance between us, till we're just barely a centimeter apart.
"i dont want you to think about it," i tell him. "just do whatever you want in the moment. thats all that matters."
"yaera..." he gulps, then takes a step back. "i-i dont know about this. lets just...this isnt good. for either of us."
"says who?" i scoff.
"says me. you and i should just stay business partners. strictly business. anything else wont end well for either of us."
hearing that makes my heart shatter and my stomach drop. fuck i can feel my eyes filling with water. i try to choke.it down but i know its obvious.
"so you're just gonna.pretend we never kissed at that party?" i lay down my arms from his neck. "youre just going to pretend that never happened?"
san stops dancing and gives me a curt nod. "i think its best we do. we both know i just represent something to you. something forbidden. thats why you want me right? because im someone you cant have."
i laugh bitterly. "i cant fucking believe you."
i feel a tear drop. san sees it and frowns. "yaera wait-"
i swat his hands away from me. "you are such a fucking dick."
i get off the dancefloor and run somewhere. i dont know where. im just walking, looking for a place to break down and sob. god this is so embarrassing. im so fucking pathetic.
i stop infront of a random room and twist the door handle. its unlocked, thank god. i go inside and fall onto the bed, my chest instantly getting wrecked. i start sobbing horrifically, unable to believe how awful i feel right now.
whats wrong with me. what is legitimately wrong with me. why was he so cold? am i not pretty enough for him or something? this cant just be about the business. i refuse to believe it. and even if it is, why do i feel so worthless?
everytime jongho has rejected me and made me feel like nothing but a stupid slut flashes infront of me. the feeling stabs me like a knife.
that must be it. thats probably what he sees me as. a stupid, desperate evil slut. all i do is throw myself at him. even at that party, i couldnt wait to be all over him. im pathetic. and desperate. i should just die.
my gloves are soaked. i cant believe how much im crying. maybe i should go back to therapy. maybe i wasnt coping as well as i thought i was.
i look up into the mirror stand, seeing my make up absolutely ruined. my entire face is red, and my hair is sticking to my soaked cheeks. i look like shit.
suddenly i remember why i stayed away from men in the first place. because im too fucking sensitive. my mood depends on them. my self worth is a reflection of how much they like me. they control whether i feel emotional highs and emotional lows.
i start laughing at myself. i cant believe i got myself into this kind of fuckery again.
the door opens suddenly, making me jolt. santo comes in and closes the door behind him, smiling tightly. i jerk up and start stumbling back, backing myself into a wall to be far away from him.
"what are you doing here?" i ask, my voice shaking.
"i saw you dancing with that...child," he slowly laughs, his tone sounding bitter. "you have no business being with someone like him, tesoro."
"santo-"
"do you know how fucking sick i felt?" he snaps, stalking like a dangerous animal. "seeing you with him? while you wear the dress i picked out for you?"
being alone was a mistake. i try to dart for the door but he grabs me and picks me up, covering my mouth with his hand. he throws me onto the bed, forcing his bodyweight on top of me. im frozen, i cant move. every karate class ive taken, all my knowledge on hurting someone just vanishes. hes on top of me and i cant move.
im sobbing again. he presses his finger to my lip, hushing me.
"i should be the only one who takes this dress off you tonight," he whispers. he starts lowering the top, leaving the top of my chest exposed. "dont cry, tesoro, you'll feel so much better after. ive been waiting for this for so long..."
"no please, santo," i beg through my tears. "please just leave me alone. please just-"
theres a few knocks on the door. "yaera, is that you? can i come in?"
that's san's voice. santo clamps his palm over my lips again and i scream.through them. its muffled. i start struggling and kicking but he wont get off me. he forces his hand harder. "fucking stop," he growls at me.
the door swings open anyway. san barges in and santo quickly jumps off me, suddenly on the other side of the room. san looks between us, frozen in his feet.
"what, did anyone say you could fucking come in?" santo screams. san stays staring between us, his face absolutely blank. santo scoffs and adjusts his suit jacket before storming out and slamming the door.
i sit up on the bed, looking at san through blurry eyes. i cant even find my voice. i cant even deal with what just happened.
"did he try..." san trails off, shaking his head at me. he rushes to sit down next to me. i cant help it, as soon as he wraps his arms around me i start bawling again.
"i cant fucking breathe. san please i just want to get away from here. please can we just leave."
he softly rubs the side of my head as he holds my face in his chest. "lets go. we'll go away from here. far away from.here. anywhere."
***
san
i dont even know where to start.
yaera and i ordered an uber from the hotel, disappearing with the permission of her father, saying she felt sick and she needed to go home. they werent happy but yaera's distraught face convinced them. they have no idea what the fuck happened tonight. they were sitting with that same guy that night.
hell, i dont even know what happened. but i could put two and two together.
yaera and i havent said a word to each other. shes passed out on my chest all the way to my apartment. i have to carry her on the way in. i have to put her down on her feet when its time to go into my apartment, and she hangs on my arm the entire time.
"you sure you fine with this?" i ask her. she nods wordlessly.
i let her inside, and she makes her way to my bed where she falls hopelessly. i go and sit down beside her, not knowing what to say. i dont know any words that can fix what happened tonight.
i know so much about her, but tonight...it made me realize i know nothing.
"this isnt the first time it happened," she says, her voice low and defeated. "the first time he did it...i was fifteen. he touched the inside of my thigh in a dressing room and kept trying it till i never went back. i never told my parents...or my sister."
i dont say anything. i let her speak.
"he told me he would never let me go. that he was in love with me. he tried so many times. at my own house. and everytime i would end up in the hospital...my parents would blame me. they would say that i was acting out. i didnt know how to tell them. they treated santo better me and my sister. hes a saint to them."
i feel my head heating up. a rich prick predator piece of shit. he deserves to disappear. he deserves to fucking rot.
i bet miss A could make a bastard like him disappear really quickly.
i take her hand and gently rub my thumb over her knuckles. i feel terrible. the only reason he was able to follow her was because of me.
"so thats why you asked me to not leave your side," i realized. "so you wouldnt be alone with him."
"he gets jealous of every man who comes near me," yaera's tears leak onto my pillow. "i thought if he saw you...he would really leave me alone this time. but it just...it made him more aggressive. he tried to..."
i pull her up and bring her into another hug, gripping her tightly. it felt like if i let her go that i'd never hold her again. that feeling terrifies me. i hate it so much.
"i'll never let him hurt you again," i swear. "i'll fucking kill him. just say the word and i will."
"i want him off my skin, san," she tells me pleadingly. "i dont want to feel him ever again. i want to scratch my skin off and be clean. i want to feel clean again."
"you arent dirty, yaera. hes the fucking filthy one for putting his hands on you," i hold her face in my hands. shes delicate, like porcelain. her eyes, that are usually so menacing and careless are filled with sadness. "youre perfect. you dont deserve that, dont for a second blame yourself. you're perfect, do you hear me?"
"if im so perfect then why dont you want me?" she whimpers. my blood runs cold. fuck how can she hit me with such a heavy loaded question.
theres no point in lying anymore. this is the last situation where i can lie.
"im scared," i admit. "im scared of you. and this. and everything. ive never had something like this, ive never had someone this close to me. i dont know how to handle it. ive been alone for so long i dont know how to let anyone be near me. i never let myself have anything. i always let go."
"please let me be there," she whispers in a tone i cant refuse. "please dont let me go. let yourself have this. let yourself have me."
my chest hurts. this night isnt going at all how i thought it would. its too much. i dont know what to say to yaera. i find my eyes feeling heavy. she takes my face in her hands again and i know she wants to kiss me. fuck it, this is the worst time. but at this point, there isnt ever a right time.
i go in for it and kiss her first. her lips are soft and velvety, and she melts against mine instantly. we start to lose our softness, with yaera pulling me closer and closer. its like she wants to take all the oxygen out of me. her kiss is hard, like a cry for help, like im all the air she'll ever need.
she breaks the kiss and drags her lips down my neck, making me shudder. yaera makes her way onto my lap and i dont fight it, her legs wrapping around me tightly as her dress rides up her thighs.
the kisses turn hot and i feel my brain losing sense. this wont end here, i know it. i want to stop it. i drag my willpower from the floor to break our kiss and she stares at me, frowning with swollen lips.
"is this really a good time?" i ask seriously. "you're really emotionally vulnerable right now. after what happened tonight, do you really think-"
"san," she interrupts me, pressing another kiss to my lips. "my life has been one big emotional fucked up moment, i want to forget. i want to have this, im so fucking dead inside. i want to feel alive again."
she stops showering me with warm pecks and looks me dead in the eye. "will you give me that?"
i hold her face again. my chest feels warm thinking about how no one sees her like this. her pain. but she trusts me enough. she lets me see it.
"i'll give you whatever you want tonight. i promise."
those words were all she needed. yaera slides her hands over my chest, pushing the suit jacket off. her hands move fast, flicking open every button till my chest is bare.
she presses her lips to mine again, her fingers tugging at my hair. i moan at the pull, surprising myself and her. she breaks the kiss and smiles down at me.
"i could get used to that sound," she teases. something stirs in me. she's so hot.
i move my hands to the back of her dress, finding the zipper. i dont break eye contact, and her smile only grows as the dress starts falling apart on her.
i slowly drag my lips down her neck, and she lets out a shiver. i fight my smile and continue to leave hot, soft kisses down her shoulder, moving down to her barely hidden cleavage. yaera harshly pulls the dress down, having rolls of money fall out and exposing her chest.
***
yaera
san stares at me after my boobs stare at him. there's a dazed look in his eyes that disappears once he lowers his mouth onto my one boob and grabs a hand full of the other.
i throw my head back, lost in a cloud after feeling his warm mouth. he starts sucking and massaging, rolling circles over my nipple. this is heaven. or something close to it definetely.
i feel my thighs tightening, warmth seeping down from my lower stomach. i try to stifle my moans, my mouth just barely gasping. he looks up at me, pausing on his motion. "you dont have to hold back. i told you i'll give you anything you want tonight," he whispers.
i hold his face with both my hands, feeling like i could cum from just staring into his eyes. "i only want you," i admit direly. i'll take anything he gives me. "but rubbing on you would be nice too."
he leans back, making me yearn. "okay, open wider."
hearing those words just makes me hotter. i get up from his lap and completely remove my dress, both of us just ignoring all the money on the floor. san's eyes hang on my every movement. im in nothing but black lace, and i dont waste time in throwing myself on his lap again, legs parted and ready.
he brings his lips to mine again, both softly and yet completely taking them as his own. his hand slips between my thighs, slowly trailing up like hes carressing fragile ceramics. i shiver as he gets closer to me, his hand finally slipping onto the base of me. he drags his thumb down my clothed folds, wrapping his arm around my waist to pull me closer.
i try to focus on kissing him, dragging my teeth down to his neck. i lose myself when he starts rubbing me with both fingers, feeling that jolt of warmth coursing through me.
my mouth is parted as my face is buried in his neck, pathetic whimpers pumping out of me. san starts going in circles, right in the perfect spot. i do myself the favour and move the fabric to the side, his warm fingers completely melting inside me as he pumps them in and out.
i know im doomed when i hear myself squelching. his rhythm is perfect, not too slow and not too fast, just enough for me to completely feel him and fade cloudily. i feel my high coming, my thighs starting to tense and my grip on him tightening. i start to kiss him frantically, till san keeps pushing his fingers faster. i feel like a hot coil, going and going till before i know it, im dripping all over his fingers.
i collapse onto his lap and he slowly drags them out, and i hear him prop them into mouth. i look at him with an accomplished smile on my face, shaking my head.
"you sick fuck, did you just taste me?"
san shrugs with a small smile on his face. "yeah, can you blame me?"
i cant contain myself, i kiss him again. i dont even feel close to done. "let me do something for you now?" i say against his lips.
"mmm mmm," san shakes his head, gently gripping my waist. "i just want you to feel good. do you?"
i nod. "i feel better than ever. but really, you dont want anything?"
he lets out a heavy sigh. "i didnt want to tell you this, but you feeling things makes me...feel things."
oh he just became ten times hotter.
i realize it now, while sitting so close to him, i can feel his massive boner poking me through his pants. i smirk to myself, getting an idea.
"oh no, you have that look on your face again," san mutters, moving my hair back. "what are you thinking?"
"readjust your friend. so i can sit on him."
san goes quiet, but i can feel him pulsing underneath me. its sensation is sending me into fucking heat all over again.
"i dont think we should go too far," he says. "dont get me wrong, i want to. i really do. but i dont think you're feeling hundred percent...after everything."
my smirk drops. i dont want to think of him. not right now. not while i have san's hands all over me. but i guess its not a good look if i do just jump his bones after everything that happened.
he holds my face in his hands and squeezes after i say nothing. "and dont think its because you're not pretty or anything. seriously, i dont know why you would even say that."
i shrug. my black and white state of thinking has never really helped me.
san picks up a pillow up and tosses it against the wall. "come on, lets fall asleep. we can talk again in the morning."
"okay," i mutter. i dont know what else to say. i get off him and and crawl into his bed. san follows after, his hot skin completely blanketing me as he puts his arm over my body and draws me against him.
"are you gonna act like nothing happened tomorrow again?" i ask.
silence.
"no. stop worrying."
his curt words dont register in my brain, because he places a warm kiss on my shoulder. it doesnt take me long to completely drift to sleep.
***
wooyoung
wooyoung knows he fucked up. he knows its all fucked up, he just doesnt know when he's going to tell san about it.
miss A is looking at him with cold eyes, he cant even utter a word because of the fear inside him. seonghwa is sprawled out on a broken couch, horrific burns all over him. hes barely alive, but he had it in him enough to tell everyone about what went down at the warehouse.
"changbin is dead, you know this right?" miss A tells him.
"yes, ma'am," he utters pathetically.
"so you know what you and lucky have to do."
he knows he cant stay a bitch in this gang for long. he knows its going to get real. petty stuff is all wooyoung is used to. extortion, scamming people. when he watched yunho die, a fear he thought was so far away just flashed infront of his eyes. he knew he'd come to be on the other end someday.
"you find that man...and you bring me his hand. or else, i'll have yours."
***
A/N: pls this chapter was a mess im sorry and it took forever to write , the next will be better 😭😭😭😭
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tagslist: @yujispinkhair @brown88 @sansonlygf
#ateez angst#ateez imagines#choi san angst#ateez fanfic#ateez fic#ateez scenarios#choi san#choi san fluff#san angst#gang au#ateez smut#choi san smut
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how do you make your writing do poetic? Cause I see my writing and I’m like what is this hot garbage compared to your brilliance?
Here's literally all the top writing advice I've learned in the past two-ish years because I assure you, my writing was also hot garbage, but hot garbage is still smokin hot bbbyy so dont give up
(brief mentions of smut in passing):
Honestly a lot of it comes down to Quantity > Quality and its not something I talk about very often on here. When I first started writing, I posted almost everyday, if not multiple times a week, consistently. I was writing headcanons of anything I could think of and stupid stories I saw on TikTok, I was answering requests the second they got in my inbox.
How I did it? I just wrote. I didn't think about it.
I was writing because it was fun, not because I wanted the writing itself to be good, I just wanted it to be (insert encanto song here). Some of my older fics are terrible, I reread some of the content and I cant make it past the first few paragraphs without cringing, Ive even considered deleting some or completely revising them because of it.
But that'd defeat the point.
I keep those fics (as terrible as they are) so you guys can see that I too, used to suck at writing. I didn't know what a hyphen was or an em dash, let alone an en dash. I didn't know how to properly punctuate AT ALL (future me, an english major, literally dies inside).
I focused a lot on dialogue when I started out, was it OOC? Probably. Did I care? Fuck no. I wrote anything because the more I wrote the better I got.
Unfortunetly overtime I became obssesed with the Quality of my work and since then I've written very little in comparison (rip my inbox being open to requests lmao). Has the quality gone up? Hell yea. But has my motivation and insecurities suffered? Oh fuck yea.
I focused so much on making my narration more poetic that my dialogue talent suffered tremendously. Which is why I'm trying to get back into more random, silly one shots because goddamit quantity > quality.
And you can see this in Nightmare because that was the series where I started getting creative with prose, pacing, and narration. That series was written and is still being written for me and me only (yall get to see it as a little treat). Its my experiment baby where I throw words at the wall and pray they stick, I talk in metaphors and pray to god it makes sense.
Nightmare is my writing exercise journal basically, everything I learn from Nightmare goes into other fics.
You can easily see how much I've grown as a writer and how because Its just one big experiment. Have you read the beginning of that? It fucking sucks, but the last six chapters? Arguably some of my most poetic work.
Big Brother Intuition was the start of me taping into the emotional side of stories and telling a story through internal dialogue and letting everything else slip in between the lines. Again, it was an exercise. The sole purpose of that fic was to challenge myself to write from Tim's POV for the first time and to write something I myself, experienced and to translate feeling and emotions into legible words.
This is when I started to learn the best writing advice I've ever learned to date that I will scream at anyone who lets me proofread their work:
Show. Don't Tell.
This is huge in writing, especially if you want to write something poetic.
"He walked across the carpeted room."
"Static clung to his socks as they dragged across the carpeted room."
In the first line, you're telling the reader whats going on like youre reading from a powerpoint. In the second, you never actually specify that he is walking, but the reader can tell because you show it visually. They can picture it in their head clearly that not only is he walking, but his shoulders are probably slouched because hes dragging his feet.
Did I ever mention the posture of the character? Nope. Did I mention he's tired? Nope. But can you picture it in the subtext without any more information but that line? Yes (assuming you read into things like me but for the sake of argument just say yes).
(this is also where word connotation comes into play but thats a whole other rant)
The reader can vividly picture your story without you having to spell it out for them.
Now bear in mind, you also have to treat your readers like idiots (sorry not sorry guys).
I like to picture the brain as an empty room, a completely blank canvas. Your story should be vivid enough that by the end of it, the reader has the entire room filled with detail.
When you start writing, you plop your character into that empty room. But how is that character interacting with the environment if its just an empty room? Things only get added into the room if the character interacts with it. If the character doesnt, then you're just telling the reader what to imagine.
What's poetic about that?
If you don't describe the setting, your readers will be confused and won't be able to immerse themselves into the story because they'll be too busy trying to figure out where the door is instead of paying attention to anything else. But reading a long paragrpah describing the room in detail is so much more boring than if the character interacts with it themselves.
(Telling the reader theres a dresser by the bed instead of making the character plop their keys on the dresser before climbing into bed)
You have to specify everything your character is doing to the environment around them so the walls turn from white to red, the room suddenly has a bed in it, theres a dresser next to the bed that needs to be sanded down because the character felt a prick on their skin.
Little things like that make your story more entertaining.
Which starts with the five senses.
I did two Five Senses writing challenges ages ago as a way to get used to writing the senses solo, I highly recommend doing the same (in my masterlist :P). Whenever I write smut, pain, comfort, you name it, the only thing going through my head is "What are they feeling, what are they hearing, what are they smelling, etc"
If you can work with the senses, showing will be so much easier to do because senses is how you show things.
"She felt like she was going to cry."
"The rims of her eyes started to burn."
In the first one, youre telling the audience what shes feeling. In the second, youre showing it. The main difference is that I imagined what it feels like to start to cry (that burn) so I could use a more "poetic" approach but really, I'm just showing instead of telling. That's the difference between hot garbage and poetic writing.
I often like to overexplain things to my audience, I pretend that my readers know nothing before starting my fic, whether its a series or a simple oneshot. This way anyone can read any of my work regardless of if they know Damian has a fucking metal spine or not beause who knows niche stuff like that yk? Its a story, make it enjoyable to anyone because they dont need pre-existing knowledge.
Which brings me to THE MOST IMPORTANT THING ABOUT WRITING EVER.
Come here, this is your bread and butter okay?? This shit is what makes your writing glorious:
Whatever you do, do not make the reader hesitate.
If the person reading your work has to pause what theyre doing to reread a sentence because it doesnt make sense?
You've failed as a writer.
If the reader has to pause what theyre doing to look up a word because it doesnt make sense?
You've failed as a writer.
If the reader keeps losing their place in your story because its dragging?
You've failed as a writer.
Harsh? I know.
The entire point of writing is to tell a story well enough that the readers can fully immerse themselves into your story. If they hesitate for any reason, it breaks the immersion and suddenly that arent ✨reading✨ anymore, theyre R E A D I N G
It's boring.
Now this manifests in soooo many ways and I see it in every fic I've proofread. Assume your readers know nothing!!! I mean it!!! If youre detailed enough in your imagery, your reader will be able to imagine the story without having to readjust their visual (I'm looking at you smut writers, I have no clue what position they're in right now and I'm more confused than I am turned on).
I get bored if the paragraph is more than 4 sentences long because its intimidating to look at, its clunky and boring and it doesnt flow AT ALL. This is when readers skim your work to get to dialogue because dialogue is more easily digestible. (but please, make it obvious who's speaking because If I have to reread an entire convo just to figure out who's talking, you're done and Im moving onto the next fic)
Why? Because the punctuation is easy to digest.
Why do you think my paragraphs are so small? Why do you think my narration is sprinkled in between dialogue? Why do you think I switch between dialogue tags and actions?
So I dont lose reader interest (will I still lose some? oh duh, but not nearly as much as I would if I didn't do these things)
You cannot assume your readers know your story the same way you do, you have a specific picture in your head. Do they? Do they even know what they're supposed to be imagining right now?
And thats where the senses come in!!!
See? It all connects.
Do writing exercises, I promise, they actually work. I treat every fic as a writing exercise.
Self Care Day? Dialogue Training.
Exhaust and Exhaustion? Juggling Characters Training.
Petnames? Tense training.
The list goes on and I could explain it all in so much detail but I'll spare you the boredom.
TLDR:
Write anything and write a lot, even if its shitty, because the more you write the more experience you'll get.
Practice with sensory imagery.
Do writing exercises.
Be creative and visual instead of strict and bulletproof esque --- show, dont tell.
Treat your readers like they know nothing and treat them and their attention span like thats the holy grail.
Be creative and literally just have fun and I promise you will see so much growth in your writing.
Please let me know if yall want me to expand on this or to explain anything, my english major brain is literally hardwired for these types of discussions.
#ah yes#word vomit#i was not expecting this to be so long#sorry not sorry#asks#writing advice#writing tips#writing help
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woah wait hold up i come back after like a day or two and i scroll back reading all the stuff i missed and i see YOU AND 🩵 ANON SPEAKING IN SPANISH woah have i ever mentioned that second languages are really fucking hot woah am i falling in love with both of you or am i falling in love with both of you WOAH HOLY SHIT SECOND LANGUAGES ARE SO FINE 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️
im kr but ive been living in the u.s. almost my whole life (ever since like very early elementary school) but korean is still the language i use at home + with my family and english was my second language so whenever i switch between the two it doesnt feel like anything to me BUT WHEN SOMEONE ELSE SWITCHES LANGUAGES OH MAH LAWD 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️ 🤸♀️🤸♀️🤸♀️🤸♀️🤸♀️🤸♀️🤸♀️ holy moly its actually so fucking hot idk how else to describe it RAHH
anyways um updates on my life !! i recently went out to hang out w friends and watch a movie and go shopping and it ended up raining a little bit but it was still okay we ended up watching a horror movie and i cried 18 minutes into it because im shit easily scared for some reason while my friends were laughing their asses off saying the scene was funny like NO ITS NOT STOP LAUGHING !!!!!
we also went to a kpop store and i was heavily deciding whether i should get the super bowl album but i ended up not getting it because it was 42 bucks for type b at the store and i found a cheaper price online 😋😋 i did end up getting this really cute dress and a corset with it though so im pretty happy about that otherwise
WBU STAR hows life treating you pookie 😔😔😔
~《☘️》
HELLO MY ANGEL HOW ARE YOU !!
Also YES I am half Mexican so I know Spanish very well (I really don’t speak it well at all but I can fully read & write it) I DIDNT KNOW THAT WAS CONSIDERED ATTRACTIVE TO PEOPLE PLELWKDODKSKSKKEDN 🩵 anon are you hearing this la gente piensa que somos atractivos por ser bilingües ‼️‼️ ALSO THAT IS SO COOL THAT YOU SPEAK KOREAN?????? Maybe I understand your knack for switching between languages being attractive THE WAY YOU CAN JUST EFFORTLESSLY FLOW BETWEEN THE TWO IS SO FUCKING COOL HELLO??????? You ate frfr 💯💯
ALSO I FUCKING LOOOOVE HORROR MOVIES OMG HELLO what was the movie…… it did take me a little while to come around to the idea of horror movies but I have seen like 200+ of them (I have a whole list in my notes if anyone wants recs) I LOVE THEM SM
ALSO NOT US MATCHING???? I bought Super Bowl like last week and I pulled Jilix (manifested soooo hard I love this for me) also bought circus and pulled Channie the mannie 🫶‼️‼️ YOUR DRESS SOUNDS SO CUTE TOO IM SO EXCITED FOR U TO WEAR IT FOR SPRING. SLAY
Life is treating me GOOD I went to this little boutique yesterday and found my dream Marge Sherwood purse (it’s a Korean designer brand Felix wears on occasion for those who don’t know !!) and then I bought a second purse bc I have a purse addiction 🤸♀️ and I have SO much work to do but I’m chugging coffee and then I’m going to the gym and then I’m going to sit down and write for the evening !! We cheered
ILY POOKIE SOOOO MANY KISSES FOR U MWAHH 💓💞💕💘🩷💖👼
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Hey! Can you rec your favourite snowbaz fics? I keep seeing some posts in between that mention them and i am curious of the names. (Also I know a lot of people in fandom who refused to read the other two books but pls give them a shot. Awtwb is my fav, even more than CO!!)
PS. Shoutout to you and @kidovna for being the only active snowbaz and byler fans i know of! I feel represented!
HELL YEAH I CAN!!!!!!! ive had people ask me for byler fic recs and i couldnt even give them an answer bc literally the only fanfiction i ever read is snowbaz. ive read maybe 4 byler fics total but i read snowbaz fics multiple times a week which is honestly crazy considering i first read the book like 7 years ago and im still wanting more content every day.
most of these arent that long bc i personally like to read something i can read in one sitting or at most 2-3 days. but if you do want a wholeass novel boy do i have an author for you (philaetos).
the wheel by sleepdeprivedphilosopher
this is one of my favorite fics ever and its also by one of my favorite authors. its an au but theres still magic. simon and baz are in this never ending cycle of constantly being reincarnated in a new life together. theyre always rivals and simon always ends up killing baz but every life the situation for why theyre rivals is different. (this isnt a spoiler you find out pretty soon) the reason for this is that the first time simon killed baz he begged fate, who is like an actual personified thing you can talk to, to give him another chance so she “spun the wheel” and allowed him to be able to have another chance every time he messes up and kills him. so theyve been reincarnated for like centuries. its so good that i wish it was a whole book with completely new characters. i hope this author some day actually write a novel like this i love the plot so fucking much. it kinda reminds me of the show dark which is my favorite show of all time.
do as your told by IL46
also one of my favorite authors. they havent posted that much but everything they have i LOVE!!!!!!!! this one is my favorite tho. simon accidentally curses baz with a compulsion spell that forces him to do whatever anyone tells him to do and they work together with penny to try and create a counter spell for this ancient illegal spell that has no current counter. bazs life is pretty much ruined and hes really going through it but simon helps him. lots of hurt/comfort. i really loved this one.
love alarm by nevergonnacallmedarling
my favorite kinds of snowbaz fics are ones with a spell gone wrong and this is one of those. someone casts a spell that makes everyone whos within ten feet of someone theyre in love with have an alarm go off in their heart announcing their love. so baz is fucked and hes avoiding simon at all costs its really fun (not for him).
kiss it better by krisrix
this one SLAPS simon gets slashed by a goblin in the leg and the only way baz could help is with the kiss it better spell but hes so scared to do it bc he has to kiss the wound and ya know vampire and all that. i love this one.
a room just for two by krisrix
another banger by this author. its just late night conversations between the two of them and they slowly become more and more friendly and open up to each other more and more.
dream with eyes open by krisrix
i love this author ok. this ones about simon invading baz’s dreams over the summer break with “psychological warfare”.
sweet dreams by annabellelux
simon has nightmares so baz casts sweet dreams on him every night but that just leads to simon having romantic dreams about baz.
dont hate the player hate the game by annabellelux
i fucking love truth or dare fics
and these are some much longer ones if thats more what youre looking for. i actually am all here for the slowburn and thats it so ngl to you i ditched both of philaetos’ fics after they kissed even tho theres was so much left but i still recommend it because the slow burn slaps.
wondrous and mystical by philaetos
i fucking LOVE philaetos theyre fantastic. this one takes place right after baz gets back from being kidnapped and it really explores his trauma bc the book really brushed over the fact that he was literally locked in a coffin for over a month. so this is simon and baz slowly becoming friends and simon noticing that somethings definitely wrong with baz. i also like fics where simon finds out baz is gay well before they get together and that happens in this one.
ours by phileatos
this one everythings the same but baz has extremely bad internalized homophobia. i havent seen any other fics that arent aus explore this concept and i wish more people wrote it its an interesting take. baz honestly reminds me of mike in this fic.
the truth will set you free by sorbriqette
another classic fucked up spell trope. baz is spelled to tell the truth if hes hiding something he wants to tell someone so naturally he avoids everyone at all costs for weeks
i could recommend so much more honestly there are so many talented writers in this fandom. about the second and third books, im glad you loved them but i honestly will probably never read them for the same reason as me not finishing philaetos’ fics. im here for the slow burn i really dont care about established relationship that much when it comes to enemies to lovers (friends to lovers i eat it up but enemies i just love the angst). and i know they break up in the second book and i just KNOW id put the book down the second they do and never pick it up again even tho i know they get back together eventually. i just think carry on was perfect and i dont want anything to risk ruining it.
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do NOT take this the freak way
but like how did we get so entrenched in the culture of “if you’re an adult interacting with minors you must be tiptoeing on eggshells 100% of the time otherwise ur grooming them” where we get these huge callout posts/warning docs abt like . literally a “ur mom” joke or smth of that cadence, like im specifically curious about what makes 17 a minor but like the SECOND you turn 18 its like “YOU MUST TAG EVERY POST U MAKE THAT HAS THE SLIGHTEST PENIS MENTION WITH MINORS DNI, DONT EVEN THINK ABOUT TALKING TO MINORS AFTER 8PM, AND DONT YOU EVER DARE TALK ABOUT YOUR RELATIONSHIPS WITH THEM EVER BC UR GONNA GROOM THEM!!!” like bro its 12:06am on ur birthday, 7 minutes ago it wouldve been fair game??? like what??? i dont get it genoiuenly also i think 18 should still be considered “minor” but also i think we need to reevaluate what minor/adult even MEANS in ONLINE spaces specifically online. like ive been told i cant talk about a funny hookup story with someone whos like 5 months younger than me bc i had just turned 18 . where is the logic in that. like ur brain dont stop developing until like 25 or smth. ON THE OTHER HAND i totally understand the reasoning thats like, oh ur at different maturity levels and diff stages in life, thats why you should be cautious when talking with someone younger than you and yeah thats totally fair! but i also think its making a lot of adults think that they can no longer have the same friendship relationship they had before with their friends who happen to be minors, which is kinda sad bc like come on penis and sex jokes are fucking funny we’re not puritans here and anyone whjo thinks teenagers dont think abt sex is living under a rock AND AGAIN IM NOT A FUCKING FREAK IM NOT ACTIVELY THINKING ABT TEENS HAVING SEX im just saying, why are we treating all minors like sterilized fabergé eggs who must be handled with like 6 layers of starchy white gloves as to not upset their delicate balance . i think its healthy for teens to have adult friends who treat them like adults IN THE RIGHT WAYS bC a lot of times all the adults in their lives treat them like babies when they want to be recognized as the individuals they are. i think im a much better well rounded person bc i had adult friends (technically parent’s friends that talked to me when they were over) when i was younger that taught me shit abt like, yknow, being an adult and growing up while still having healthy boundaries. like i think tumblr is soooo far removed from real life im realizing this more and more if real life was how tumblr is it would be insane tbh. imagine a highschooler goes up to you and asks for directions on the street and u have to be like “IM 18 IM AN ADULT DONT INTERACT WITH ME I MIGHT GROOM YOU” like ?????? jesus? anyway go ahead flay me alive if you like but again i leave you with this:
i am a normal person if whatever you think i may be implying is nasty then obvsiously im not implying it and youre reading this wrong on purpose
also since when could you get crucified for talking about anything relating to different age relationships without being accused of being a freak. go outside
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okay i told myself i wouldnt say anything but i’ve never actually been capable of not saying anything so i just want to say most of the jaskier hate that i’ve seen on here is absolute bullshit.
sorry! respect people’s opinions and all that jazz but i dont respect unnecessarily hating a character you deem completely and utterly irrelevant. side character this and side character that yet you speak of him more than the mains you claim to love so much.
most of the hate ive seen directed towards him has been “oh people love this side character too much its annoying” which?? who the fuck cares if we love a side character? hes hilarious, hes talented, hes charming, he cares so fucking much about everyone and everything around him its actually sickening. why should we not love this man? you can hate that man but giving other people shit for loving him is ridiculous.
(also there was this one post i saw when i first got here about how you don’t treat a side character the way theyve treated jaskier, and that is a Very relevant point here. hes hardly a side. and also that show has three main characters, so by that logic you shouldnt give much of a fuck about anyone who isnt ciri, geralt or yennefer.)
and i saw a post, which was the real fucking kicker for me, about it being stupid for people to include jaskier in family posts. like okay i get it, jaskier is not exactly part of the family (yet!) but as if youre gonna tell me to not include him because as far as im concerned, he is in the family. he stuck by geralt’s side for twenty years, and yes while i agree he just latched on unwanted, he stayed, and treated geralt better than most people in his life ever had. he cared for yennefer and her safety (which was reciprocated by her right away) even after their very unfriendly history. he took ciri back to kaer morhen, a girl who he really didnt know, simply because 1) geralt needed him to and 2) it doesnt matter to jaskier who you are, if you need help, hes fucking there. and maybe a lot of my family shit with them is based purely off potential but if theres a lot of potential why should i not dive right in? Why?
and i will say this because i feel like i cant avoid bringing it up, but a lot of the posts were also mentioning people sidelining/hating yennefer because of jaskier. and im not saying thats complete bullshit, i havent seen it but it could be true, but to treat it like thats the case always when most jaskier stans also love yennefer is absolutely absurd. i personally have never seen a jaskier stan hate yennefer because they love jaskier. but if youre reading this and you hate yennefer because you love jaskier, youre fucking a moron. (if you hate yennefer at all i consider you a moron but thats for another discussion altogether.)
and listen, im not saying its stupid to hate jaskier. hate him all you want, but at least have a reason that is in his control. ive seen a shitton of jaskier hate on reddit that just call him annoying, which i dont agree with, but thats a fair reason to hate someone. you dont want to be staring at someone who annoys the fuck out of you, and you shouldnt have to!
but hating him because people love him? being mad at people who find comfort and joy in a fictional character? like are you serious. do you understand how miserable of a person you have to be bothered by that?
#i am very sorry for this rant#and i am also not sorry for it#im sorry because i dont usually make posts like this#but im not sorry because well i can make posts like this#and if you disagree and want to unfollow me or whatever because i admit this was rather aggressive youre free to do that#but i said my piece and this is the last i will be speaking of it#unless someone says something i will respond obviously#but Yeah. sorry again that was aggressive but when i love a character i really love a character#im never looking in the anti jaskier tag again what a fucking mess
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LOWI CONGRATS ON THE FOLLOWER MILESTONE!! 🥺💞💞💞 u deserve it and so much more!! for the kiss prompt could i get 18 with shinsou ?? 🥺👉👈
TYSM SOFFFF so uh. I’ve been fuckin stupid dkfnskfb my dumbass rlly wrote Shinsou correctly on my master post like a week ago and then still managed to write for Shigaraki instead when it came to the actual piece 😳 so thanks to my handyman brainrot you get two—that’s right, two!—characters for the price of one ur welcome ♥️ I cheated a lil bit so shinsou;s not sitting in the reader’s lap it’s just his head but i think its cute 🥺 also Shiggy’s is like twice as long as ive been trying to write them oops i rlly like the jealous reader premise 👉👈 it’s under the read more bc of that and bc of kiiiinda spoilers? if yall arent caught up to the manga you won’t get it but if u are it’s canonical. Whew that was a lot! Enjoy!
Kisses where one person is sitting in the other’s lap
Shinsou
To say that your relationship with Shinsou is new would be an understatement. You’ve been friends for years—ever since the third year of high school when you’d been assigned to him as his support—but you’ve never been particularly close until recently when you’d once again found yourself working on his hero costume and support items.
He’d only asked you out yesterday after nearly two months of tension-filled glances and fleeting touches. Now, the two of you are watching a movie at your mutual friend Kirishima’s apartment, sitting quite awkwardly on a loveseat and pretending like you don’t want to get closer to each other. You haven’t told your friends yet about your new relationship status, but that’s not entirely what’s holding you two back. If anything, it’s run-of-the-mill first date awkwardness (if watching a movie with six of your closest friends around can be considered a date), too afraid to initiate anything.
The movie’s dull; the two of you have pulled out your phones to snark at each other through text, a strategy you’d begun weeks ago after being hushed one too many times by Kaminari because you were talking too loudly. The bright screens probably aren’t all that much better, but you two are in the back anyway; nobody can see it unless they turn away from the TV.
You risk a glance up and end up locking eyes with Shinsou. Your face heats up, heartbeat quickening, as he gives you a charming smile. You watch him glance around the room, unsure at first why he’s doing it until he turns his attention back to you and slowly, silently, moves over across the loveseat into your personal space.
Your legs are touching now, faces so close your nose is nearly brushing his. One of his hands has come to brace against the armrest you’re leaning on, allowing him to stay leaning in.
“Hey,” he says, little more than a whisper and clearly hushed so the others don’t hear.
“Hey yourself,” you respond, earning yourself a low snort.
Instead of vocally responding, he pushes himself back up to a sitting position and then moves his hands to maneuver your legs until you’re no longer curled up against the couch’s backing but sitting like a normal person.
Then he lays down, head resting on your thighs, and turns to face the movie.
You’re grinning uncontrollably. All possible self-conscious thoughts of the others seeing you are dashed from your mind; you like the weight of him in your lap too much.
You spend much of the rest of the movie like that, easily over half an hour. A few minutes in he reaches down to find your hand and bring it to his hair, encouraging you to stroke it. It’s even softer than you’ve imagined in the past, fluffy and thick and genuinely nice to run your hands though. There’s a surge of contentment that rushes through you, and maybe a little bit of pride at the knowledge that you can do this pretty much any time you want now.
By the end of the film, you’re pretty sure Shinsou’s fallen asleep. He gives you the scare of your life, however, when he grabs your arm as you’re trying to pull away. His eyes open, purple irises trained on you.
What happens next you blame on grogginess, him still not quite being awake. He blames it on you; whenever you mention it, he says he saw you and had become consumed with an overwhelming desire to just lean up and kiss you. Whatever the reason, it’s nice for you.
His hand comes up to the back of your neck, tugging you down just as much as he lifts up. It begins soft, kind of sweet, just lips as the two of you melt into each other—but it doesn’t stay that way for long. Within moments the two of you morph the kiss from a quick peck after a movie to a very passionate makeout, and frankly you’d be more concerned if they hadn’t interrupted the two of you.
You pull away when you hear Kaminari’s wolf whistle, left sitting on the loveseat with a burning face and your boyfriend in your lap, still half asleep.
Shigaraki
You’re not jealous.
No, you’ve been dating Tomura for months. You can’t be jealous when he’s, well, yours, and has been for quite some time. You’re his first relationship, his first everything, and it’s frankly foolish of you to feel this insecure just because some floozy is simpering at him from across the enormous room where you and the rest of the League are scattered about. It’s not like she really wants him, or even knows him; he’s just the hew big-shot leader and she’s decided being his lover sounds good. Too bad that role’s already taken.
Still, there’s a sinking feeling in your chest—an ache in your heart, a burning lump in your throat—that says now that Tomura is Grand Commander he’ll drop you for someone better.
You don’t realize you’re glaring daggers at the woman until she catches your eye. She has no business looking that smug; the only reason she’s allowed in the room is to give Tomura reports. You’re the one lounging next to him as she approaches; he has your legs over his lap, his thumb absent-mindedly rubbing circles on your thigh.
And when she bends down to drop the report on his lap (as if your damn legs aren’t there, you want to scoff) she draws the eyes of every League member except the one she wants, because you’re the one who has Tomura’s attention.
He’s wearing Father, but you’ve long passed being afraid when he looks at you from between those lifeless digits and you can see the expression beneath; those lips tugging down slightly in a pout, brow furrowed, eyes far softer than they have any damn business being while hiding behind the severed hand of his old man. He’s concerned, and a little confused.
Tomura plucks the report from your legs and sets it aside, reaching to pull you fully into his lap. To your surprise he takes Father off, too; he buries his face into your neck to prevent the outsider from seeing, lips just brushing your ear so that you can hear him.
“What’s wrong?”
“Hm?”
“You’ve been pouting ever since the secretary came in, brat.”
Like hell you’re saying anything in front of her. You remain stubbornly silent.
He doesn’t like that, you can tell, but while the secretary’s interest is lost on him he knows you well enough to tell that you’re uncomfortable with her. Presumably that’s why he doesn’t press the issue and kisses you instead.
You don’t expect it. Tomura’s not exactly one to shy away from PDA (you’re sitting in his lap in front of the whole League, for fuck’s sake), but intimacy is something he’s never wanted to take beyond closed doors. When he’s in a sour mood you’ll kiss him sometimes, even in public (he’s invigorated by your affection in many way, but never anything you’d call heated.
This kiss, though, is. It’s anything but chaste, perhaps even downright lewd. He’s all but initiating a makeout with you while Miss Secretary is standing right there. Maybe his affection-motivated ways are rubbing off on you, but it helps more than it probably ought to.
You’re dazed by the time he pulls away. The sound of the door slamming closed snaps you from your trance. The secretary, ploy foiled simply by your annoyed expression, had left. It doesn’t matter. None of this was ever really about her in the first place.
“There,” Tomura says, audibly quite pleased with himself. “She’s gone. Now tell me what’s wrong.”
You sigh, leaning in to tuck your own head into his shoulder. Your voice is muffled when you speak, quiet so that only he can hear.
“It’s dumb.”
“It’s bothering you,” he says simply. There’s an underlying statement there: tell me so I can destroy it for you. In many ways, Tomura is a predictable man.
You know he’s not going to drop it, so you accept your fate. “She was making a pass at you.”
He tenses beneath you, holding you closer. You risk lifting your head from where it’s buried to see the way his nose is scrunched up. “She wasn’t.”
“Yeah, she was.”
There’s a pause, like he’s processing everything you’re saying. Then, seemingly finally registering what exactly is bothering you, his hands move to grip your hips and maneuver you to straddle him, sitting fully on his lap facing him. “Fine. Why’re you pissed about it, then?”
You lean in again, arms coming to wrap around his neck as you bury your face into his chest and try to ignore the tears that are coming. You’d never be able to live it down if any of the others saw you crying over the fucking secretary.
But you know more than anyone thanks to many late nights assuring your boyfriend he’s the only one for you that Tomura can empathize with this insecurity. It’s a little strange how the script has flipped.
“She’s a high ranking MLA member, she probably has some crazy strong quirk. I’m quirkless. I dunno. I guess I’m scared you’ll drop me for someone like her. Like I said, it’s dumb.”
He doesn’t speak for a moment. You sit there, listening to his heartbeat and matching your breathing to his. Then he speaks.
“Your emotions aren’t dumb. It’s okay that you’re feeling this way. Thank you for telling me.” He’s parroting you, you realize; this is what you tell him every time he comes to you for comfort when he’s gotten in a mood. You feel a little fuzzy, warmth flooding your chest. “But I think we both know they’re irrational.”
“Tomura… I—”
“I’m not interested in some lame-ass NPC,” he interrupts, no hesitation and entirely sincere. He doesn’t even need to think about it. “You’re my player two, my endgame. The only thing in this world worth protecting. You really think that secretary can hold a candle to you? I didn’t even notice her. Why would I when you’re here?”
You can’t help it, you surge upward and kiss him, just as passionately as he had you mere moments before. His right hand traces up your spine to find the back of your neck and pull you closer, sending a thrill through your body as your own arms tighten around him.
“Oi! Horndogs! Get a damn room, don’t make us see that!”
You break away at Dabi’s words, panting slightly, and if the sincerity of Tomura’s little rant hadn’t convinced you that his words were true, the look of utter adoration he’s regarding you with would have.
#bnha x reader#bnha imagine#mha x reader#mha imagines#shinsou x reader#shinsou imagine#shinsou hitoshi x reader#shinsou hitoshi imagine#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki imagine#shigaraki tomura x reader#shigaraki tomura imagine#shimura tenko x reader#shimura tenko imagines#myherowritings#ask.🌧#mine.🌧#event.🌧 750 follower prompts#char.🌧 shinsou#char.🌧 shigaraki#pluvi’s pals
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12 Anti LO Asks
1. its victim blaming of hades to tell minthe its HER fault she "couldnt get over him". like? you lied to her! youre the one who blurred the lines to date her! you were just as toxic to her if not more so by controlling where she lives and her job, all while never defending her to your cruel family! you had all the power over her while she had nothing! you dumped her for a 19 year old and dont care she crippled minthe! i wont excuse minthe's actions, but hades is ultimately the worse of the two IMO
2. you know why fans claimed "Minthe should've reacted better"? since the first episode Rachel has been drilling into their heads Minthe is an irredeemable monster, and her not bending over backwards to H/P means she deserves the absolute worst. Minthe reacting how anyone logically would doesn't matter when LO is designed to coddle H/P, and anyone against them must suffer for it, even if the victim to H/P's actions. they never wanted her to be "redeemed", they want her head on a silver platter.
3. i know this is not what she intended bc the only characterization rachel has of hxp is "the best over everything" but uh, does she know having hades control all the petroleum and gasses and whatever else is actively destroying the planet, right? like hes helping the very thing persephone draws her power from and what she's connected to be destroyed to appease hes need for wealth and power. its kinda gross hes being romanticized while he commits horrible acts like this for his bank account.
4. its not impossible to go opposite in their original myth personalities and still have it work. like in hades game, sisyphus is one of the most likable characters, achilles is gentle and kind, ares is calm and rational, etc, but it makes sense within the context of the story. LO in comparison goes "all these loving mothers are evil because i said so! this beloved god is now evil because i said so! minthe is evil because i said so!" and that's about it in terms of logic to these wild changes.
5. I can kinda get behind anon's theory about the flower nymphs looking like P to help her be undetected, the problem is there are also unrelated women in comic who are bright pink and look just like her, with hades even confusing them for her! if i had to bet the only reason they look like that is because rachel just wanted daphne to look like her to hammer home apollo is "obsessed" with P and to fake them as her "real family" over demeter. also just laziness in designing characters in general.
6. its weird hades and persephone are well aware what they're doing is bad even openly admitting it and yet the narrative is so hellbent on excusing their bad actions?? like hades being the major toxic factor in his relationship to minthe, persephone killing people, or hades wanting to bone an eternal 19 year old? like rachel you know thats not how character growth works, right? you cant show they have horrible flaws and leave them to never grow and learn from it, that's not good writing at all.
7. what i also dont get is the hierarchy makes no sense? like zeus is framed as the top god, but that would mean hades cant be the most important man ever so rachel also made him equal rank with zeus (and i guess poseidon too) so?? how does zeus have all that power over them then if theyre all equal? is it because zeus swallowed metis? also how are the fertility goddess so powerful and rare yet so easily taken down? how are they overpowered and super weak at the same time? i just dont get it.
8. Re reading chapter 144 and other anon is right we do see the pomegranate pin on Hades outfit (so Hades gifts it to her)
But also some things to note
During the makeout session persy begins to disappear in butterfly form and hades is like "no don't leave!" And he grabs her, preventing her from leaving. Which is..kinda Ick considering they were on their way to having (public) sex and he doesn't want her to leave which seems like he's not really respecting her boundaries? (because if she does he'll "be lonely")
The pomegranate pin is Hades' to begin with so technically one of Persephones symbols is not hers (yes I know in the original myth she ate it in the underworld / was forced to eat it but still its supposed to be her symbol)
Hades notes that he "doesn't want to overstep his boundaries as host" because Persephone is a guest (too late for that)
Persephones main concern (after what a week or 2?) after being raped is when Hades wants to stop her reaction is "dont you want me anymore?"
Girl you aren't even dating ...??
Persy's literal one and only concern is that she thinks if she doesnt sleep with Hades right then or when/if he wants to that "she wont be able to give him what hes used to" ... Which is reinforcing that she went to therapy to get "over being blocked" in regards to having sex
Although Hades does mention that she shouldn't feel like she needs to please him and that a kiss can just be a kiss which would be nice
(And yet his thinking of marrying her amd he's known her for 2, 3 weeks? ... And he says "the beginning of a new relationship is exciting and scary" so hes basically indicating thay their dating at this point, I think?)
And later the nymphs in the store are like "do you wanna be the dominatrix of the bedroom?? Buy this lingerie!" And persy does. So??
Meanwhile Demeter is very worried for her daughter who is busy sitting in Hades lap in a pool.
9. Can we talk about how anons are making fucking flow charts for the LO Timeline cause it's so ridiculously jumbled?
10. im not even against rushed relationships, ive known actual couples who met and were married all within the same year and it worked out great, the difference though is these were people who had their own lives and previous relationships. the issue with LO is RS designed it so Persephone can NEVER have relationships or a life outside of Hades, and if they did get married offscreen, it's framing their marriage in a toxic and unbalanced light. That's not a romance, it's a disaster waiting to happen.
11. i feel like there's a difference between drawing an interesting hooked/aquiline nose versus whatever the hell RS puts on Hades' face. It honestly looks like he's in between morphing into a bird half the time since it just looks like a beak over an actual facial feature.
12. are there shareholders or a board of advisors or something at underworld corp? because if there is id say they have more than enough reason to kick hades out and strip him of his titles/shares because of all the shit he's caused by being guided by his broken pp over thinking with his head. liking dating TWO employees? and getting one of them phsyically crippled by the other bc he can't be honest with either of them and she's a walking time bomb? he's a walking HR nightmare.
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Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader IV
Series: Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War
Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader
Chapter IV
Word Count: 6900+
[Chapter III] [Chapter V]
Summary: [Y/N] “Bell” [L/N] was content with dying. Shot by the person whom they admired and left to die, the world was now left in the hands of the team they once thought as family. However, it seems that fate had other plans in mind…
Content Warning: mature content, gore, vulgar language, blood, injuries
Notes: Things are getting juicy! A lot happens in this one since I merged two parts into one chapter, I just didn’t want to series to run on for too long. I’m glad you’re all enjoying it though! Hopefully there isn’t too many mistakes since I don’t look over what I write sometimes.
[Y/N] "Bell" [L/N]
July, 1983
CIA Safehouse, West Germany
After your meeting with Mason, it took another half week or so for everything to get back into order.
You had to go through a psychological evaluation, answering a tirade of questions about your personal mental health. At first you thought about lying just to fuck around, but decided against. It would have just added more problems to your already growing list, and you certainly didn't want to get pushed aside. They wouldn't show you the results and passed it off. Soon enough, you were free to go.
The CIA basically had you on a leash. Someone had to keep an eye on you wherever you went, and the perfect way they went about it was to put you back under Adler's wing. You had nowhere else to go.
Then again, it was time to refresh and flex your skills. Unfortunately, they didn't give you back your belongings. The pistol and vest you had was now gone. A bit of yourself felt a bit empty without it, but at least they took it upon themselves to throw away the sentimental baggage that you held onto for so long.
Adler had yet to make an appearance since the base. He wasn't even there on the plane ride to Germany, leaving you to travel with Lazar and Mason, whom both snored loudly. You didn't have much to bring with you other than the clothes on your back and a few care packages Mason had forced you to carry, saying something along the lines of Woods craving "a sad excuse for candy", which turned out to be a pack of Hershey's.
As the ETA to the safehouse got closer, you couldn't help but dread the moment you had to walk through the metal shutters. What were you supposed to do? Act normal like nothing ever happened, and carry on with the day? That felt like the most obvious answer, and yet the thought of just having to work alongside him again made you both irritated and anxious.
The three of you arrived in West Berlin early in the morning, approximately at four a.m.. You could see the landing strip become dimly lit with the ground lights, as well as the control tower poking out in the distance. The airport was rather quiet and not busy as you had anticipated. A nice chill met your exposed skin as you walked out of the aircraft, and you felt Lazar placing a hand on your shoulder.
“Welcome back, Bell.”
Orange streaks poked through the sky by the time you arrived. The outside of the safehouse looked no different since the last time you laid eyes on it.
It was still anchored in its spot, not a leaf out of place. However, the inside felt so foreign, as there were things now occupying the spaces that were once empty. A couple of more metal tables were placed around the main area, and there were now a couple of towers made from file boxes. It felt a bit more cramped because of it, and you almost knocked some over on your way out. At the same time, though, more cozy at least.
First thing you did was get a haircut. More specifically, Sims took it upon himself to give you one once he arrived. He wasn't a professional or anything but he does a decent job, surprisingly. Your head felt significantly lighter.
Going to drop off your bags, your room was left untouched by time. It was lightly furnished, your bed was shoved into the corner with fresh sheets pulled over it. A wooden table was pushed against the wall near the door, drawers empty. On top of it, there was a Swiss watch. It seemed fairly new, but there were a few nicks and scratches on the glass cover that gave its age away. The leather strap had light creases, and it stretched out as you secured it around your wrist. Someone already took it upon themselves to adjust the time.
That was when you noticed a small rectangular package that was sitting next to it.
It was wrapped in brown paper, and pulling back the tape, it unfolded and revealed a bunch of old newspapers that served as wrapping paper. Perplexed, you ripped them off, and found a weird device. Wrapped around it was some kind of wiring. Sifting through the papers for some sort of explanation, you search for a note of some kind but to no avail. You never seen something like it before, and asked around the safehouse (except him) what it was. They told you it was recently produced, and that it was basically a portable cassette player. No one seemed to know who gave it to you, or if they knew, they wouldn't reveal it to you. Whoever it was, you were thankful for.
Having music blasted into your ears couldn't be more reassuring. The voices were drowned out, and you were able to just listen to the noise of musical instruments and heart-moving vocals. You found it easier to focus in this state.
There weren't a lot of selections on the tape, and they were also from different genres. You listened to all of them on loop multiple times, even when falling asleep. Seeing how Sims was the supply man around here, you would probably have to ask him about it later. If he was generous enough, you'll see.
Though, in return, you couldn't hear the talk going around the safehouse. If anyone needed your attention, they would need to tap you on the shoulder, or wave a hand in your view. You developed the ability to roughly read lips so you didn't need to take off your earphones as much, but if anything happened outside your peripherals, you didn't notice.
As for Adler, right when you set eyes on each other, it was like you both, begrudgingly, made a silent pact to avoid each other as much as possible. If one of you happened to be nearby, either you or him would make a detour. And if it just so happened that he needed to talk to you, he would send someone else in his stead to deliver papers or to just advise on what you needed to do next. Sims refused to be the messenger after the second time, and you even saw him talking to Adler in the back corner telling him to suck it up.
“How old are you again? Because this is getting ridiculous. You’re going to have to get used to working with them again, or I will formally write both of you up for therapy,” you heard him say.
Three days after your arrival, a briefing was finally held at twelve o' clock sharp,
You took a seat on one of the metal stools near the radio station, rotating the knob around and listening to the music stations. Most of them were static, as there wasn't a definitive signal in these parts. Unable to come to a decision, you flipped it off.
Hudson comes around, giving you a small nod when he noticed you had already joined up in front of the board. Everyone else gathered, pulling out stools or sitting on top of the table. You had to nudge Woods to the side just so you could get a view of the evidence that was being put up.
"Finally got ourselves a mission,” Hudson starts. “Our sources informed us about more intel on Soviet activity regarding a catastrophic weapon, and it has Perseus written all over it. Detonating the nukes failed, so this is probably Plan B. As for what, when and where, we don't know yet. With the intel we’re going to obtain, we can find out. The bastard’s been lying low for the longest time, so it’s about time.”
Hudson points directly at you with the marker in his hand.
"Bell, you're in on this one."
You perked up immediately as Hudson mentioned your name, taking out your earphones. It almost felt unbelievable. After months without having anything to do, you finally had the opportunity for some action, and the first thing was being deployed on a mission. It felt like a welcome back gift from Hudson in a way. Or maybe it was his way of apologizing. With that man, you could never tell.
"You'll be providing distance support with Woods as Adler and Mason go in to snag our prize."
You nod, fixing your posture. Truth be told, you weren't exactly paying attention, since you expected just to stay in West Berlin. But now things were different.
“As for where, you’ll be going back to East Berlin. The Iron Curtain is still strong, and security is tighter than ever since last time. The two groups will enter through different ways, more details on that later. You’ll both head to this area—” Hudson circles a place on the map, just between East Berlin and the border of Poland.
“You’re going in light. You'll be dressed as civilians, and the CIA informant I mentioned will meet you here, get the guns you need. From there, it’s all or nothing. Try not to cause mayhem.” He tosses the marker onto the desk. “Questions?”
"Yeah, I have one. Any reason as to why you need Bell on this one?"
All eyes turned to the speaker, which was none other than Adler. You gritted your teeth, annoyance already beginning to make its rounds. Of course he would pull something like this.
"Is there a reason as to why we shouldn't?" Hudson replies coolly. "Bell already proved themselves back at Solovetsky. That's enough for me."
"Yeah, what the idea, Adler?" Woods challenged, hopping off the table he sat on. He strided over to Adler, confronting him face to face. "Something wrong with Bell?"
"Bell hasn't exactly had the healthiest of minds as of lately,” Adler states coldly, getting up from his seat to meet Woods eye to eye. “One fatal mistake and the mission's compromised."
"It's not like Bell was given a choice on that matter, considering what you've all done," Mason joins in with a blatant distaste. "Unless… there's something else you’re hiding."
Adler shot a glance towards your direction, and you sent him a death stare in return. He contemplated for a moment, before backing down against Woods.
You couldn't tell what was going on inside that mind inside of his and you hated it. You couldn’t even catch a breath whenever he was around, and his mere presence or thought of him agitated you. Despite pledging to yourself not to let him get an advantage over you, he never failed to piss you off in some form.
"Bell's going on the mission, Adler, whether you like it or not. Work as a team. They didn't go through a psych evaluation for fun," Hudson affirms. "You all leave the first week of August."
Once the meeting was dismissed, you put your earphones back on, turning the music back to its max volume. You grabbed a small roll of bandages from the back storage, wrapping them around your hands as. The punching bag seemed like a great idea at the moment for blowing off steam, and you headed over before you could bash a wall in.
Testing the weight of it, you propel it away from you, stopping it when it returns. Getting used to it, you gave it a final push.
When it rounded towards you, you sent a clean jab to its side and watched it recoil upon impact.
You continued this cycle, increasing your hits each time as you relinquished your anger. What the hell was his problem?
There was a tap on your shoulder, causing you to jump. You resisted the urge to instinctively draw back a fist, instead holding it at your side.
Turning around, you found Woods waiting patiently with a stern, but intrigued, expression.
"What is wrong with you?" you growl.
"You're going to go deaf with that shit blasting in your ears. I could hear it a mile away," he advised.
"Is that what you came here to tell me?" You return back to the bag as Woods just took a seat on top of the table nearby.
"You gotta put more 'oomph' into it, Bell. Put the hips to work."
"If I wanted tips, I would ask Sims."
Regardless, you adjusted accordingly and delivered a series of jabs and hooks to the bag in front of you. Although better, there was still room for improvement. But, you couldn't concentrate now with Woods silently judging you with crossed arms, but you obeyed every suggestion he gave. Put your weight more on the tips of your toes, keep moving, etcetera. Sweat was already beginning to run down your forehead, your shirt sticking to your skin and the threads of the bandages fraying.
Heaving, you stop assaulting the bag when you start to feel your chest constrict. Something white flashes just outside your peripherals, and you quickly catch the towel Woods tossed.
"Why don't you take a break and talk with me for a bit?"
Sighing exasperatedly, you pull out your left earbud and you unwrap the bandages. He was unusually persistent today, but you knew he was too stubborn to be ignored. "Okay, let's hear it."
"Well, to start off, you looked kinda pissed earlier."
"Did I?" you questioned curtly, flexing your fingers. "Maybe I just have that kind of face."
"Don't be a stick in the mud, it wouldn't kill you to talk about it. You know me, I can keep secrets."
"Because you're the expert in quiet."
"Of course I–" He cuts himself off in realization. "Did Mason tell you that?"
"Probably."
"Goddammit," he swears under his breath. "Anyways, Bell. Let's talk."
You hummed in response. Mason did say he was a good listener. No wonder they were buddies. "Before we do, tell me what happened to Mason. He said he went through the same shit I did."
"Weird way to start off, but yeah, it’s some fucked up stuff, really." He hands you a water bottle, which chug instantly. "Mason was originally brainwashed to be a sleeper agent for the commies. They gave him the ability to read some sort of numbers. I don’t really get it myself, but Hudson and Weaver were getting desperate, and needed to find out what they were. They strapped him into a chair… gave him a harsh time. That kind of crap."
You wipe away excess water from the corner of your mouth. "Sounds like you guys go far back."
Woods chuckles. "'Far back doesn't even cover it."
"Why do you want to talk, anyway? Before, I was the one to initiate the conversation."
"I just want to get up to date with you," he claims, although you could detect some kind of hidden intention behind his words.
You roll your eyes. "I'm serious, Woods. Did Adler put you up to this?"
"It always goes back to Adler doesn't it? You asked Mason the same thing."
“And if I did?”
"Just talk to the guy he’s really bothering you. Hell, I’ll turn a blind eye if you happen to sock him in the jaw again.”
You smirk at his thoughtfulness. “Inciting violence in the workplace now?”
“Don’t tell Hudson,” Woods jokes. “But, in all seriousness Bell, what's up?”
"Nothing." You eyed him for a bit. He had a raised brow and tapping a finger, just waiting for you to tell him anything. It was clear that he didn't plan on leaving you alone, so you took a seat on the floor. "You should learn how to mind your own business."
"Come on.”
"No."
“I’m not going to shut up until you do.”
"Fine." You lower your voice just enough so Woods could hear. It took a bit to force the words out, but knowing the type of guy Woods was, you felt a bit more confident. "Truth be told, I… don't think Adler's exactly happy to have me back."
"How so?"
"You're kidding, right?" You scoff. "You saw what happened earlier. Bossman didn't even want me on the mission."
"A dick move on his part."
"No shit." You gave a heavy sigh. "I-I don't know. It's what I expected, but it still hurts. Like, I worked with the guy, and he shoots me in the end… Maybe a small part of me expected him to be a bit apologetic."
"When you've been doing this kind of work for years, you'll experience some stuff. By all means I'm not defending him, but seeing a body you got rid of come back to life isn't exactly easy to come to terms with."
You roll your eyes. "Wow, I feel so much better."
“Hear me out, Bell,” he starts, and you prepared yourself mentally for a long talk. “When you were MIA, there was a part of me that wished you were alive. Even being told that you had supposedly ran back to Red, it didn't feel like you would do that, you know? But we had no other choice but to accept it as reality.
"Hudson dismissed the team shortly after that. We went back home, left the safehouse behind for a good year and a half, we thought our work was done. Then we got a call, saying that there's been suspicious activity relating to Perseus going amuck, and then fast forward to today, we’re back where we started. The place felt a bit empty without you, kid."
"You missed me?"
"Fuck yeah we did! Having someone a bit younger on the team really livens up the mood don't you think? Another newbie to bully a bit. So think of this as making up for lost time."
"That's nice to hear, I guess."
Woods scratches the back of his head. Talking to you was harder than he thought, especially since you were so adamant on hating Adler. It wasn't his job to maintain your relationships in the workplace, sure, but you having this mindset would hurt yourself and everyone else in the long run. Plus, he hated seeing you like this.
"I'm sure Adler's just trying to wrap his head around this,” he comes to say. “Just give him time. He was ordered to kill one of his own, after all."
"On the contrary, isn't it me that should be 'given time'?” you challenged. “I'm the one that took the bullet, not him. It's his fault for being a lousy shot, and me being here is the consequences of his own actions."
Why should you give Adler the benefit of the doubt? Clearly he didn't feel any remorse for what he did. While you have yet to speak a word to him, it felt like he personally had it out for you. Adler should have to deal with you, not the other way around. And the stunt from earlier further proved your point.
"Just think about it, Bell. We all have our own emotional baggage. I'm not saying that yours isn't important, but everyone has their own shit to deal with. What I'm saying is to just let things play out. You never know."
"Because you definitely have the experience of being presumed dead by your best friends," you utter sarcastically under your breath.
Admittedly, hearing everyone's stories so far about how they felt during your absence was heartwarming. You thought it would be awkward trying to settle back in, but instead they all welcomed you back with open arms despite the lies they've been told.
Woods’s expression drops slightly, like he had just remembered an unpleasant memory. "Well…"
You perk up, raising your eyebrows, suddenly a bit interested in hearing his story. "...You're joking."
He smiles wryly. “You know Kravchenko, right? Had a bit of an encounter with the man, and needless to say, he’s on my shitlist now. Mason and I have it in for him, that guy is dead the moment we see him.”
“What happened?”
The veteran adjusts his sitting position, leaning back on his hands and giving out a loud sigh.
“We were caught by a few Viet Cong soldiers, forced to play Russian roulette. Scariest fucking thing I’ve done, you Russians are deranged as hell. But, we managed to make it out of there and turned the place into a living hell. Then, there was Kravncheko, beating the shit out of Mason, so I stabbed the fucker in the back. And he still wouldn't kick the bucket, and decided to pull a damn grenade. So, I took him on a trip, right out the window."
"You survived?" you say in awe. Woods really had a way of telling stories.
"I ain't dying to the likes of him! But, he came to first, and then threw me into a POW camp, before shipping me off to Da Nang. But I wasn't going to fucking die in that shithole, so here I am now."
"Hm, I guess we have something in common now,” you grin.
"Well, now that I told you some of my history…" Woods hops off the table to sit beside you. He props a knee up to rest his arm on, and it reminded you of a child who's excited for a bedtime story. "You need to share some of yours."
You gave a dry laugh, shaking your head. "...You set me up for this."
"C'mon. Sharing is caring."
"I'm not a storyteller."
"Well you are now."
0000
“Bell sure has taken a liking to the Walkman.”
Adler looked up from his station, and found Lazar standing across from him.
Taking a peek over in your direction, you sat alongside Woods near the punching bag. You were both exchanging something he didn’t know about, and even saw Woods giving him a few glares over the shoulder. Shortly after though, the conversation turned lighthearted, both of you laughing at something.
"Mason!" you shouted. "Did I ever tell you about the time where Woods assaulted the mannequin?!"
Woods jumped up. "Bell! What the fuck?!"
"Oh shit, sorry."
The Walkman Lazar referred to was poking out of your back pocket, playing whatever cassette tape inside. A wire poked out from the end of it, before parting into two, leading to your ears.
“What about it?” Adler says flatly, before resuming his work on the mission files.
You haven’t spoken a word to him. Not one bit. Even after he questioned Hudson's choices. Whenever he did talk to you, if he even tried to, you would only nod or shake your head in response to him, and the only time you would look at him was to scowl. He noticed you would flinch slightly at the tone of his voice, and he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about it. Or how you would lock the door whenever you went to rest.
Not only that, but it was clear that you were talking to everyone else but him. It had taken some time for you to warm up to the rest of the members again, but it was noticeable that you were closer to Lazar and Mason. While they weren't full blown paragraphs, you would engage in brief conversations with them frequently. You were on close terms with Woods and Mason, and Sims was decent. For Hudson, at least, whenever he dropped by, you answered with single word statements. And you hated Hudson.
So if you hated Hudson, how did you feel about him?
“You haven’t been exactly doing your best at trying to reconnect with Bell either, you know,” Lazar points out, before taking another bite from his food.
“Are you implying that I take initiative instead?”
Lazar shrugs. “If what you call earlier 'taking initiative', you need a new approach.”
Adler had nailed it relentlessly into you that you’ve known him and Sims since Vietnam, but the truth was that you only knew each other for a few months. He couldn't exactly waltz up to you, declare an apology, and expect everything to be how it was before you found out. So, he could only hope you were faring well, or managing a way to deal with it all.
"I'll think about it," was all he said.
"If you say so. You need ideas? Let me know." Lazar was about to walk away, before pausing and turning back. "Drinks tonight?"
"Ask Woods. He's been dying for one."
Lazar laughed before departing.
Thinking about what he had told him, Adler couldn't help but feel a little spark of relief. If one were to look closely enough, the corners of his mouth were upturned slightly in a smile. It wasn't noticeable to the naked eye, but it was there.
He was the one who left you the Walkman after all, so to hear that you favored it dearly was a plus one in his books.
0000
Giving out a loud yawn, you slapped your cheeks trying to keep yourself awake.
It was now the first week of August, and it was just your luck that you couldn't get a good night's sleep the day prior. As exhausted as you were, you've been looking forward to getting back onto the field. Hopefully you weren't as rusty as Woods claimed.
"I'm surprised you never shot the asshole yet."
You looked up from your scope at the building across from you, where Woods sat comfortably. Adjusting your grip on the rifle, you resumed to survey the streets below you, noting the positions of bystanders and patrolling guards.
"Shot who?"
Berlin was just as depressing as it was the last time you were there for the Volkov mission. Sneaking through the U-Bahn, meeting up with Greta Keller and her asking you of a favor; breaking into the apartment due to Lazar (graciously) volunteering you, only to be compromised thanks to Lukas Richter, whom you let free beforehand. The dark side of you would have loved to put a bullet through the backstabbing traitor, but Belikov did the job for you (unfortunately).
“Damaged goods.”
You worked with Adler on that mission.
“Oh.” You had answered your own question. “Truth be told, the thought never really crossed my mind. But, now that you mentioned it…”
You adjust your position, now looking down at an alleyway a good distance from where you were perched. You trained your crosshair to be about the height of a six foot male, pointing it directly at the corner of the wall.
“You’re sick, Bell,” Woods’ voice echoed in your earpiece. “You know that?”
“Bastard did say that I didn’t have ‘the healthiest of minds’,” you retort, doing an awful mimicry of Adler’s voice.
“I can hear you.”
Good.
"It's Mason. Look sharp, we're in position."
The building of interest wasn't as large as you thought it would be. Apparently it's an old apartment building with a clothing shop on the first floor. There were no occupants, most likely forced to relocate upon the start of the war.
Zooming out, you see Mason and Adler round the corners on opposite sides of the building, wearing the uniforms of local police. Mason was on the left side, and Adler on the right. They took positions next to the door. You could hear Adler countdown, and you held your breath as they both opened their doors simultaneously, peeking inside before slithering in and shutting the door.
“First floor clear. Moving to second.”
Your vision was limited, but you kept an eye on the windows on each floor, waiting for any suspicious activity. Everything was going smoothly so far, the duo having no issues as they continued up the building.
You saw something shift. “Heads up, movement on the fourth floor,” you utter into your earpiece.
“Got it,” Adler confirms over comms.
After a moment of time passed, the weather started to turn sour. It almost seemed like the weather reflected the mood of the people: the skies completely dark and rain continuously pouring. The rumbling cracks of thunder rolled in following the flashes of lightning. You winced at the first clap of thunder.
“Don’t tell me you're afraid of a little thunder, kiddo,” Woods taunts from his end.
“I was just caught off guard.”
“Third and fourth floor clear.”
Mason and Adler rendezvous on the fourth floor, and you could see Mason drag a body out of view as Adler closed the door. They converged in the middle of the room, but a wall blocked your view.
“What the hell? Is this what we came here for?” Mason voiced in disappointment.
“Why, what is it?”
You couldn’t hear the reply over the clap of thunder. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You felt uneasy, the operation was going by too smoothly. The guards around the area never so budged from their spot, instead chatting away with their partners, or too busy being held up on unsuspecting bypassers. You wiped away the raindrops from your scope using your finger, before taking the chance to sweep another view of the streets once again.
Another flash of white and a clap of thunder.
"Mason, Adler? What's the hold up?" Woods asks. You both waited for a response, only to hear static. He repeated the question again with more urgency.
Nothing again.
"Shit…" you cuss under your breath. You couldn't see anything from the window.
Looking at your watch, the team was supposed to meet at the extraction point in twenty-five minutes. From there, you would be taken back to West Berlin. But Mason nor Adler had confirmed anything, and you were all going to fall behind schedule at this point.
Contemplating the choices, you folded the bipod for your rifle. You wouldn't have time to dismantle the attachments, so you threw the strap around your shoulders to let it hang from your back. Whipping out your sidearm, you loaded in a few bullets and adjusted the silencer at the end.
“Woods, I’m going in,” you announce, already dashing towards the edge of the roof. “Cover me.”
“Dammit Bell, wait—”
“Don’t worry about it. I got this.”
Vaulting over the edge, you slide downwards on top of a metal shed, before landing on a balcony. You cursed silently as your equipment banged and jingled with every movement you made. Praying that the Stasi had horrible hearing, you lean over the rail, checking to see if there was anyone patrolling under you. With the coast clear, you tested the strength of a nearby pipe before climbing down on it.
You could feel it just waiting to give out any moment, but you made it down without any trouble. Landing with a thud, the alley was dark, scarcely illuminated by the streetlights. Rain was pouring down, the sound of the droplets hitting the pavement covering your tracks.
Rounding the corner, one soldier stood alone. They had a cigar in their mouth, and you could smell the fumes making its way your direction. The smell of nicotine and tobacco made you sick to the stomach for some reason. You waited for the next boom of thunder to occur, and when it did you snuck up behind them.
Covering their mouth and having a good choke hold on them, you dragged them back into the depths of the alley where light couldn't reach, before snapping their neck. You put the body inside a nearby bin, and continued on your way.
"Woods, how's it looking over there?" you whisper.
"Still no sight of them. Are you sure you got this?"
"This is me we're talking about."
You stuck close to the walls, making sure to avoid any well lit areas. The clothing shop was just across the street, and you didn't have a clear path. Clicking your tongue in annoyance, you looked for any other possible routes nearby. A couple of patrol cars were lined up alongside a makeshift barricade towards your right. There were two figures sitting on the hood of one of them.
"Hey, need your help on something. At your four o'clock. Two on the car. You take the one on the left."
"Got it."
"On my mark…" you began to count down, steadying your crosshairs onto their head. The rumbling of thunder started to go off as you held your breath to steady your aim. "Now!"
The thunder drowned out the sound of the silencers, and you quickly ran over to the cars as lightning flashed.
"Good hit."
Working quick, you pulled both of their bodies off the car and shoved them under it, tucking their arms and legs in. The rain was already cleaning the blood off the car, not noticeable from a distance.
You let yourself catch a breath before moving behind the next car. Peeking over the trunk, you could see that the attentions of a couple police officers were pointing towards the general area of Woods position, and you prompted him to move to a different area. "They got eyes on you Woods, try find a better area before they start moving."
“Well, time to pack it up. You’ll be on your own for a bit, kid.”
Entering the shop, there were racks of clothing pushed up on the sides. A few shirts were strewn across the ground, and the cash register was propped open and rusty. The lights were off, the streetlights casting a dim glow inside. An open door was behind the counter, leading to a flight of stairs.
Going up, all the doors leading to each floor were wide open, and taking a peek inside, there was no one. It was eerily quiet, to a point where your light footsteps echoed. The building appeared smaller when you viewed it from afar, but travelling up
Pulling the door open to a crack, you peered inside and saw that a group of Stasi were gathered around something on the floor. They were speaking erratically in German, trying to figure out what to do. Leaning in a bit more, you realize that they were surrounding the Adler and Mason, who were on the floor. They weren't moving at all.
Were they dead?
No, there was no way. They wouldn't go down without a fight. But the simple thought of it made you sick to your stomach.
Whipping out a flashbang, you ripped the door open and threw it in as hard as you can. A blinding light flashed before you. Squinting through the brightness, you took the one closest to you as hostage, letting them absorb any bullets that fly your direction. You popped one shot into each of the guards, four in total, before adding your makeshift bulletproof jacket to the pile. They fell to the ground, clutching their chests as they drew their final breath. You stepped over them, kicking their arms aside.
“Well, I found them.”
“How do they look?”
Adler and Mason remained unmoving as you got to them. Squatting, you leaned close to check if they were still breathing.
You gave a sigh of relief. “Unconscious.”
“Well we don’t have all night, Bell. Wake ‘em up, I hear police cars approaching the area.”
“Yeah, give me a couple minutes.”
You brought your hand up to Adler’s face, about to deliver a good slap to wake him up, but you stopped midway, noticing his rather peaceful expression despite the situation.
There were strands out of place from his normally styled hair, and his sunglasses were just about to slip right off the tip of his nose. Finally, the man was quiet. But, you had to admit, the more you looked at him, you couldn't help but find him rather–
What the fuck is wrong with me?
This was the guy that tried to kill you. The one that didn’t want you on the damn mission. And yet why did you feel this way?
Brushing aside your thoughts, you propped Adler against the wall, only to notice that there was a hole in his side. Lifting up his shirt, there was a bullet wedged inside him. It wasn’t lodged in too deep and didn’t hit any important arteries or parts. You whipped out your med kit, pulling out a large gauze pad and some tape.
"Bell?"
Adler stirred awake on his own as you worked on him. You didn't even notice him becoming conscious until he groaned and adjusted his weight. His hand shot towards his side instinctively as you applied pressure but you slapped it away.
"Glad to know you still care at least," he comments in amusement as you cleaned the area.
"Don’t patronize me."
A look of astonishment played on Adler’s face as you scowled at him. You just spoke to him.
As much as you wanted to argue with the guy, you slapped the gauze over his abdomen, securing it tightly with tape before bringing out your roll of bandages. It wasn't the best of treatments, so he would have to fix it up back at the safehouse.
"Are we on speaking terms again?"
"Don't make me regret my decision,” you spat.
You couldn't stand it. The silent treatment you were giving him was already difficult to maintain with Adler always having some kind of remark or witty statement at his disposal, and your first instinct was to retort back with any insult that came to mind.
And with that, you purposely tightened the knot of Adler's bandage, gaining a little satisfaction seeing him wince. "Ouch."
"God you never shut up, do you?"
Though, you had to admit, it felt a bit more relaxing to finally talk to him.
You moved over to Mason, giving his face a few slaps. It took a bit, but he stirred awake, his hand automatically going to touch the back of his head. "Ugh, the hell?"
"Get up, don't have much time." You pass him his rifle, pulling the lever back for him. Mason groggily got up to his feet, taking the gun out of your hands. "Woods, how's it looking out there?"
"They're making a barricade around the area. Our escape route is blocked."
"Well shit," Mason chimes in. "How long until exfil?"
Adler looks at his watch. "Five minutes. Not enough time."
"Well, we'll just have to make do, don't we?" You kick one of the downed rifles towards Adler.
He picks it up all while maintaining a stony expression. You could tell he was resisting the urge to lecture you, but had the decency to pick his own fights.
Adler hops right back up, even taking the time to brush himself off. "How do I look?"
"Pathetic," you remark.
"Are you two done flirting?" Mason yells from the stairwell, sticking his head through the door.
The three of you urgently made your way down, taking a bit of a shortcut by vaulting over the railing.
"There should be a car nearby," you tell them. "Woods, meet us at the coffee shop around the corner, we'll do a drive by."
“Well you better haul ass, cause we got friends!”
Running out to the street, Adler and Mason follow your lead while keeping their weapons up. The rain showed no signs of letting up, and the police sirens were getting closer. You went to the nearest car and pulled at the door handle. "Of course it's locked," you hiss under your breath.
You break the window using your elbow and reach in to unlock the door. Some idiot left the keys inside the car so you slid it into the ignition and revved it awake. "Get in!"
Slamming on the gas, you didn’t give them the chance to close the door as the car lurched forward. The tires screeched loudly under you, leaving marks on the pavement as you sped off. Red and blue lights flooded the darkness, and you turned the wheel sharply to avoid the building.
“Mason, get your door open! Woods is going to be on that side!” you bark over the gunfire. You hear the rear window being pelted relentlessly, Adler and Mason ducking to avoid the bullets. He forcibly kicks the door open, but it just breaks right off and strays away as you drove down the street.
“The zone’s too hot! Woods might as well be a beehive if he tries to jump in here!” Adler exclaims while reloading.
You dove your hands to your side, fishing out a small C4 and handing it over to him. “Try not to shoot at me this time around, will you?”
“Very funny.”
Adler uses the butt of his rifle to knock out the remaining glass from the back window. Seeing a good opportunity, he tosses the C4 out, and shoots it with perfect precision. Orange and yellow raged outward in the air, shaking the entire vehicle and causing you to swerve a bit. From the mirror, you could see a couple of police cars flip over.
The coffee shop was just a click away, and you could see Woods taking cover behind a raised flower bed made from stacked bricks. You honked the horn to let him know of your presence, and he poked his head out.
You slam on the breaks while gassing at the same time, tugging the wheel towards the left and bringing the car to a small drift. It stops in front of Woods, who dives right in while giving out a cheer.
"Nice driving, Bell!”
And with everyone back together, you speed off into the night, leaving behind another mess once again in East Berlin. Hudson wouldn't be exactly ecstatic to hear about it, but the job was done.
#russell adler#russell adler x reader#russell ader x bell#cod black ops cold war#black ops cold war#call of duty#bo:cw#text#bell#call of duty x reader#call of duty imagine#fanfic#oh boy just wait for the next chapter its all over for you all#abcd briefing
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part ii | part iii | part iv
after speaking to kido, sakura rushes home. when she calms down from the rage that nearly had her crush his throat, sakura can admit that she doesn’t really think this is him. he knew a lot about her for someone that was supposed to have been locked up all this time, but he seemed genuinely surprised to hear that sarada had been taken, if not disappointed. he fit the profile of what shikamaru and kakashi thought -- that someone wanted sarada for her eyes -- but sakura can’t stop the nagging feeling that somehow this runs deeper.
back in her apartment, megumi’s body is right where she left it, and sakura feels awful for having moved so mechanically. megumi was an orphan, but she was still someone’s little girl. ashamed, sakura lays a sheet over her and swears she’ll do more later.
she heads to her bedroom and begins her work. alone, she summons one of the cats she’d made a contract with shortly after her marriage. the black cat is sleek and holds himself confidently. he’s always been an efficient one, quick to do as she needs and be competent about it. he regards sakura with a cock of his head.
“sarada’s been taken.”
“your daughter.”
“yes.”
the cat nods. “i shall inform the clowder. if anyone spots her, i will let you know.”
“thank you.” sakura pauses, self-conscious for needing to rely on everybody else for this part. “if you...if any of you are able to come into contact with sasuke-kun, can you pease let him know too?”
“of course.”
“thank you.” sakura promises to provide the usual exchange at a later time and the cat disappears with a puff of smoke. she heads to her bedroom and she begins to pack in silence.
her movements are as meticulous as they are automatic, done just so she’s ready to leave the moment she knows where she needs to go. her medkit is stocked. her bag has scrolls, weapons, supplies, and sarada’s favourite toy. she changes out of her days clothes and into the leggings and turtleneck of a uniform she hasn’t worn in years. her cloak is in the front closet. she needs to change her boots. she’ll put on the boots now. she leaves the armour on her bed to don later. right now, they only hinder her movements. she goes to the drawer where her mask hides in plain sight among other trinkets and knick knacks, and on the dresser she notices a flower.
sakura stills as she takes in the detail she must have missed in her earlier haste. she considers the simple glass vase and the single red flower sitting in it. its petals curl at the ends and some are even missing.
this flower has travelled and as sakura considers what it is, she knows it’s travelled far.
-
konoha became unbearable by the time she tuned twenty. it's so petty and selfish and she'd never say it aloud, but she hated seeing everyone else so happy. she's happy too -- has so many reasons to be -- but she couldn’t help the nagging jealousy she feels when ino declined her invitations because she was going to see sai or when naruto prioritized her almost always only to head home to hinata.
she wanted to be someone's too. she wanted to be their focus and heart and home, but sakura already knew who her someone was and knew that on some level she was his too, so all she needs to do right now is wait.
most of the time, sakura wasn’t bitter. being apart from him wasn't unfamiliar, nor the steadfastness, nor the hope that one day this will pay off one day, nor the self reminders that what she felt was irrelevant as long as sasuke knew and was comforted by the fact that she would always love him.
to suppress her frustrations rather than confront them, sakura worked. she worked tirelessly and relentlessly and by nineteen, they'd named her the greatest medical ninja konoha has ever seen for her accomplishments, ideas, and innovations.
this took her to suna at twenty and to ame at twenty-one to help establish their own clinics.
“i have a gift for you,” ino told her before she left.
sakura expected a ribbon or a piece of jewellery or that new book on poisons she mentioned she was interested in. instead, ino handed her a bag. its contents shift, imbalanced, and inside sakura finds a potted plant.
“a flower?”
“not just any flower, you ungrateful bitch.” ino pointed at her accusingly and then at the plant. its petals are a bright red with darker flecks at their base. “i made it.”
“you made it?”
“yes. you know me, interrogating and mind-reading by day, splicing plants together and making my own by night.”
“that’s sad.”
“fuck you. you’re sad.”
sakura laughed and ino laughed too but it got a bit sad because ino probably definitely knew that sakura was sad. “anyway,” ino continued, “we’ll call it the sakuino flower--”
“how creative.”
“--and i expect you to keep it alive through all of your travels.”
sakura frowned at ino, wondering if ino understood that a potted plant had no place in her travels, but ino didn’t seem to care. moreover, this particular thing didn’t seem to have the ability to survive in the desert climate she was going to be living in for the next six months.
when sakura expressed as much, ino waved the matter off. “deal with it,” she said, giving sakura one last hug. “you’re one of the brightest minds to come out of this village. you’ll figure something out.”
-
its common name is the fire poppy, having originated from the fire country but somehow managing to survive in the deserts of wind country as well. the flower is know for its vibrant red petals, eye-catching and jarring across the barren brown it’s normally found in. sakura had to play with the original plant’s physiology when she first moved to ensure it could survive the alternate climate. in her spare time, when she wasn’t working with the kids, she deigned to work with her plant, eventually working on cloning the original. at some point she’d given one to a nurse she worked with who much admired the first, and gaara asked if he could try planting them in his garden. from there, the spores began to spread.
“why the fire poppy?”
was this someone from suna?
sakura considers the obvious motivation of revenge, but who would even want that? there were people who didn’t appreciate her friendship with kankuro or any of his siblings. perhaps an apprentice of chiyo’s who blamed sakura for not saving her when she gave her life for gaara’s. worse, perhaps someone that once worked sasori who resented her for his demise. or maybe someone she, sadly, can’t even remember. a patient she lost during the war whose family hated her.
sakura truly cannot pinpoint a motivation for this, much less a person.
especially a person that would understand the meaning of this flower for her.
ino would never give her this flower. ino would have scoffed at it and created her own. sarada couldn’t have picked it today. and sasuke certainly couldn’t have left it for her.
someone was in her apartment. someone brought it here.
was it here before?
sakura considers the poppy and forces herself to keep calm. stay logical, she demands. stay smart. was the poppy there before? no, she thinks at first. she would have seen it. she’s certain she would have seen it.
but, she can accept, it’s possible she might have missed it. sarada was taken. her babysitter was murdered. it wouldn’t be surprising if sakura missed it. but sakura doesn’t miss things. right?
“don’t gaslight yourself,” she orders.
no, she knows. the flower was not there before, meaning in between her going to kakashi, going to the prison, and then running back home, whoever took her daughter came back.
or worse, there was a team involved and one was with her child and another came back for her.
sakura curses, wishing she’d put on her black ops armour earlier, because whoever brought the flower here is now making their presence known. she senses two people before she sees them and is unsurprised to find sudden flares of strength.
the bedroom is small and they’re in a building. she needs to take this outside, but where? there’s too much risk for others getting hurt in the crossfire. that’s why this was supposed to stay quiet. that’s why this will stay quiet.
they step out of the shadows and sakura assesses them quickly. one male, one female, both fairly young based on stature and development, maybe early twenties at the oldest. they’ll have agility on her, but they won’t have her experience.
the man holds a chokuto. good. an advantage. sakura is excellent at fighting against such a weapon. if they’re foolish enough to use her husband’s favourite sort of blade, perhaps they didn’t do enough research on her. perhaps they were hired? but if they were unprepared, then were they really here to kill her?
are they here to distract her?
that thought fills sakura with dread. is someone trying to keep her busy so she can’t get to sarada on time?
the woman shifts, one leg sliding to the side as she raises her hands. she holds no weapons, therefore she is the weapon. sakura knows all about that. she’ll need to be careful with this one. but she still has a holster on her thigh. it’s thinner that the usual styles. maybe a couple kunai, but more likely a set of sebon. this one is smart then. she’ll know precisely where she needs to hit sakura to stop her.
“haruno sakura,” the man greets with a short nod.
so it is her fault.
if this was about sasuke, about the uchiha, they would know her married name. this is about her, and for that sakura feels worse. her baby was taken and why? just to hurt sakura before killing her? sarada was who knows where with surely no one that could be good and all just to hurt sakura?
sakura snarls, furious in a way only a mother could be, and she feels the chakra pulsing around her fists.
“where is my daughter?”
their masks hide any expressions. they remain at ease in the face of her rage, shockingly unafraid of this woman that can level mountains.
good, sakura thinks. let them be brave. let them come at her like fools.
she runs through the bedroom door to get to the living room where there’s at least more space to maneuver. the man leaps and brings his blade down upon her, but sakura manages to shift to the side. careful to not be forced into a corner, she spins out of his range and into the open middle until the woman runs past her partner and takes sakura on hand-to-hand.
she matches sakura’s punches and kicks blow for blow. she’s good, sakura thinks nervously. and she’s fast. she’s small, maybe half a head shorter than sakura, so she puts her weight behind every quick jab. sakura gives most of her attention to the woman, but keeps a wary on eye on the man who sheathes his chokuto.
what as he planning?
it takes that one moment for the woman to catch her unaware.
sakura chokes on her breath as the woman thrusts a senbon into her shoulder. the shock from that slows her down enough so she can lodge in a second.
“shit,” sakura curses as she stumbles back. she rips the senbon out, but she feels her left arm begin to go numb from the struck pressure point. “what did you do--”
sakura’s eyes widen she she feels something foreign begin to course through her. she considers the senbon, dark with her blood and likely something else. there’s a metallic smell that isn’t from the weapon, and sakura knows she’s been poisoned.
however, her body doesn’t bother to fight it.
sakura watches her opponents, trying to understand how she’s been poisoned with something she’s immune to and just what poison this might be. she’s immune to everything in konoha’s own collection, as well as the ones she shares with shizune.
which poison is this?
does that matter?
sakura scowls at the two people involved in her daughter’s kidnapping and reminds herself that she can take them on one-handed just fine. she pulls her right hand into a fist and charges. the man is closest, so she lunges at him with a chakra-laden punch that sends him barreling into the wall.
she grabs the front of his shirt and as she pulls him forward, his mask falls away to reveal green eyes, cold and lifeless, and a black diamond under his left eye that makes her uneasy.
sakura stares at the man, confused, because she knows this face.
she knows him.
her fear and pain and worry makes it hard to focus, but knows him.
focus.
finally, it clicks.
“isao?”
she thinks she might have seen something like recognition in his eyes. that doesn’t long though. she left herself open, and his partner stabs her shoulder. sakura releases isao with a cry before the woman punches her in the back of the head and everything goes dark.
-
the sun is up when sakura begins to stir. she hears the birds chirping and people outside going about their days. but the buzz of the television is missing, as are the small thuds of sarada’s steps. where is sarada? sakura wonders hazily, lazily, not quite understanding yet.
where is sarada?
her eyes widen and she sits up so quickly her stomach rolls.
“careful.” tsunade comes into view, steadying sakura and checking her for any problems. “you’re still healing.”
she’s in her own bed. she’s not at the hospital. she got knocked out and the assassins got away. she should’ve done something to track them. dammit. was she so arrogant she didn’t have a failsafe in place for if she didn’t simply beat them? sakura punches the bed, earning a disapproving frown from shizune on her other side.
“there was poison in your system.”
“it was one of ours,” sakura admits warily.
“yes. there are very few people with access to those, much less this particular one.”
the one that the assassin used was meant to render a victim paralyzed but still able to feel. it was a dreadful thing, meant only for the worst of interrogations. or, more accurately, for torture. sakura concocted it in her darkest moments at fourteen under shizune’s watchful eye. since then, while they’ve both had small handfuls of keen students, they’ve probably shared poisons from their personal roster with only five people at most.
for this particular poison, sakura knows only two people they showed it to, and only one of those was a student of sakura’s.
“how did you find me?”
tsunade rolls her eyes. “shizune sent you off to a prison from kakashi’s office. i figured i’d have to check on you shortly after. and it’s a good thing i did, stupid girl.”
“thank you.”
“don’t thank me. i’m scolding on you.”
“did they find anything useful?”
“no one’s been able to contact your husband.”
“right.”
“and they’re still under the impression that this has to do with the uchiha blood.”
“they would be,” sakura mutters, too tired and in too good company to be anything but blunt.
shizune sighs. “do you know who came after you last night?” the flower is still where she left it on the dresser. shizune follows her gaze to the fire poppy, and all knowing with plants as well, shizune determines its origins. “how did that get here?”
“i think it was to taunt me.” sakura grimaces. “you were right.”
“about?”
“i think this is my fault.”
shizune’s eyes widen and quickly soften with sympathy. “none of this your fault,” she reminds sakura.
tsunade crosses her arms. “enemies of yours then?”
“no.” sakura looks sad. “people i once loved.”
-
tbc
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Bakudeku: A Non-Comprehensive Dissection of the Exploitation of Working Bodies, the Murder of Annoying Children, and a Rivals-to-Lovers Complex
I. Bakudeku in Canon, And Why Anti’s Need to Calm the Fuck Down
II. Power is Power: the Brain-Melting Process of Normalization and Toxic Masculinity
III. How to Kill Middle Schoolers, and Why We Should
IV. Parallels in Abuse, EnemiesRivals-to-Lovers, and the Necessity of Redemption ft. ATLA’s Zuko
V. Give it to Me Straight. It’s Homophobic.
VI. Love in Perspective, from the East v. West
VII. Stuck in the Sludge, the Past, and Season One
Disclaimer
It needs to be said that there is definitely a place for disagreement, discourse, debate, and analysis: that is a sign of an active fandom that’s heavily invested, and not inherently a bad thing at all. Considering the amount of source material we do have (from the manga, to the anime, to the movies, to the light novels, to the official art), there are going to be warring interpretations, and that’s inevitable.
I started watching and reading MHA pretty recently, and just got into the fandom. I was weary for a reason, and honestly, based on what I’ve seen, I’m still weary now. I’ve seen a lot of anti posts, and these are basically my thoughts. This entire thing is in no way comprehensive, and it’s my own opinion, so take it with a grain of salt. If I wanted to be thorough about this, I would’ve included manga panels, excerpts from the light novel, shots from the anime, links to other posts/essays/metas that have inspired this, etc. but I’m tired and not about that life right now, so, this is what it is. This is poorly organized, but maybe I’ll return to fix it.
Let’s begin.
Bakudeku in Canon, And Why Anti’s Need to Calm the Fuck Down
There are a lot of different reasons, that can be trivial as you like, to ship or not to ship two (or more) characters. It could be based purely off of character design, proximity, aversion to another ship, or hypotheticals. And I do think that it’s totally valid if someone dislikes the ship or can’t get on board with his character because to them, it does come across as abuse, and the implications make them uncomfortable or, or it just feels unhealthy. If that is your takeaway, and you are going to stick to your guns, the more power to you.
But Bakudeku’s relationship has canonically progressed to the point where it’s not the emotionally (or physically) abusive clusterfuck some people portray it to be, and it’s cheap to assume that it would be, based off of their characterizations as middle schoolers. Izuku intentionally opens the story as a naive little kid who views the lens of the Hero society through rose colored glasses and arguably wants nothing more than assimilation into that society; Bakugou is a privileged little snot who embodies the worst and most hypocritical beliefs of this system. Both of them are intentionally proven wrong. Both are brainwashed, as many little children are, by the propaganda and societal norms that they are exposed to. Both of their arcs include unlearning crucial aspects of the Hero ideology in order to become true heroes.
I will personally never simp for Bakugou because for the longest time, I couldn't help but think of him as a little kid on the playground screaming at the top of his lungs because someone else is on the swingset. He’s red in the face, there are probably veins popping out of his neck, he’s losing it. It’s easy to see why people would prefer Tododeku to Bakudeku.
Even now, seeing him differently, I still personally wouldn’t date Bakugou, especially if I had other options. Why? I probably wouldn’t want to date any of the guys who bullied me, especially because I think that schoolyard bullying, even in middle school, affected me largely in a negative way and created a lot of complexes I’m still trying to work through. I haven’t built a better relationship with them, and I’m not obligated to. Still, I associate them with the kind of soft trauma that they inflicted upon me, and while to them it was probably impersonal, to me, it was an intimate sort of attack that still affects me. That being said, that is me. Those are my personal experiences, and while they could undoubtedly influence how I interpret relationships, I do not want to project and hinder my own interpretation of Deku.
The reality is that Deku himself has an innate understanding of Bakugou that no one else does; I mention later that he seems to understand his language, implicitly, and I do stand by that. He understands what it is he’s actually trying to say, often why he’s saying it, and while others may see him as wimpy or unable to stand up for himself, that’s simply not true. Part of Deku’s characterization is that he is uncommonly observant and empathetic; I’m not denying that Bakugou caused harm or inflicted damage, but infantilizing Deku and preaching about trauma that’s not backed by canon and then assuming random people online excuse abuse is just...the leap of leaps, and an actual toxic thing to do. I’ve read fan works where Bakugou is a bully, and that’s all, and has caused an intimate degree of emotional, mental, and physical insecurity from their middle school years that prevents their relationship from changing, and that’s for the better. I’m not going to argue and say that it’s not an interesting take, or not valid, or has no basis, because it does. Its basis is the character that Bakugou was in middle school, and the person he was when he entered UA.
Not only is Bakugou — the current Bakugou, the one who has accumulated memories and experiences and development — not the same person he was at the beginning of the story, but Deku is not the same person, either. Maybe who they are fundamentally, at their core, stays the same, but at the beginning and end of any story, or even their arcs within the story, the point is that characters will undergo change, and that the reader will gain perspective.
“You wanna be a hero so bad? I’ve got a time-saving idea for you. If you think you’ll have a quirk in your next life...go take a swan dive off the roof!”
Yes. That is a horrible thing to tell someone, even if you are a child, even if you don’t understand the implications, even if you don’t mean what it is you are saying. Had someone told me that in middle school, especially given our history and the context of our interactions, I don’t know if I would ever have forgiven them.
Here’s the thing: I’m not Deku. Neither is anyone reading this. Deku is a fictional character, and everyone we know about him is extrapolated from source material, and his response to this event follows:
“Idiot! If I really jumped, you’d be charged with bullying me into suicide! Think before you speak!”
I think it’s unfair to apply our own projections as a universal rather than an interpersonal interpretation; that’s not to say that the interpretation of Bakudeku being abusive or having unbalanced power dynamics isn’t valid, or unfounded, but rather it’s not a universal interpretation, and it’s not canon. Deku is much more of a verbal thinker; in comparison, Bakugou is a visual one, at least in the format of the manga, and as such, we get various panels demonstrating his guilt, and how deep it runs. His dialogue and rapport with Deku has undeniably shifted, and it’s very clear that the way they treat each other has changed from when they were younger. Part of Bakugou’s growth is him gaining self awareness, and eventually, the strength to wield that. He knows what a fucked up little kid he was, and he carries the weight of that.
“At that moment, there were no thoughts in my head. My body just moved on its own.”
There’s a part of me that really, really disliked Bakugou going into it, partially because of what I’d seen and what I’d heard from a limited, outside perspective. I felt like Bakugou embodied the toxic masculinity (and to an extent, I still believe that) and if he won in some way, that felt like the patriarchy winning, so I couldn't help but want to muzzle and leash him before releasing him into the wild.
The reality, however, of his character in canon is that it isn’t very accurate to assume that he would be an abusive partner in the future, or that Midoryia has not forgiven him to some extent already, that the two do not care about each other or are singularly important, that they respect each other, or that the narrative has forgotten any of this.
Don’t mistake me for a Bakugou simp or apologist. I’m not, but while I definitely could also see Tododeku (and I have a soft spot for them, too, their dynamic is totally different and unique, and Todoroki is arguably treated as the tritagonist) and I’m ambivalent about Izuocha (which is written as cannoncially romantic) I do believe that canonically, Bakugou and Deku are framed as soulmates/character foils, Sasuke + Naruto, Kageyama + Hinata style. Their relationship is arguably the focus of the series. That’s not to undermine the importance or impact of Deku’s relationships with other characters, and theirs with him, but in terms of which one takes priority, and which one this all hinges on?
The manga is about a lot of things, yes, but if it were to be distilled into one relationship, buckle up, because it’s the Bakudeku show.
Power is Power: the Brain-Melting Process of Normalization and Toxic Masculinity
One of the ways in which the biopolitical prioritization of Quirks is exemplified within Hero society is through Quirk marriages. Endeavor partially rationalizes the abuse of his family through the creation of a child with the perfect quirk, a child who can be molded into the perfect Hero. People with powerful, or useful abilities, are ranked high on the hierarchy of power and privilege, and with a powerful ability, the more opportunities and avenues for success are available to them.
For the most part, Bakugou is a super spoiled, privileged little rich kid who is born talented but is enabled for his aggressive behavior and, as a child, cannot move past his many internalized complexes, treats his peers like shit, and gets away with it because the hero society he lives in either has this “boys will be boys” mentality, or it’s an example of the way that power, or Power, is systematically prioritized in this society. The hero system enables and fosters abusers, people who want power and publicity, and people who are genetically predisposed to have advantages over others. There are plenty of good people who believe in and participate in this system, who want to be good, and who do good, but that doesn’t change the way that the hero society is structured, the ethical ambiguity of the Hero Commission, and the way that Heroes are but pawns, idols with machine guns, used to sell merch to the public, to install faith in the government, or the current status quo, and reinforce capitalist propaganda. Even All Might, the epitome of everything a Hero should be, is drained over the years, and exists as a concept or idea, when in reality he is a hollow shell with an entire person inside, struggling to survive. Hero society is functionally dependent on illusion.
In Marxist terms: There is no truth, there is only power.
Although Bakugou does change, and I think that while he regrets his actions, what is long overdue is him verbally expressing his remorse, both to himself and Deku. One might argue that he’s tried to do it in ways that are compatible with his limited emotional range of expression, and Deku seems to understand this language implicitly.
I am of the opinion that the narrative is building up to a verbal acknowledgement, confrontation, and subsequent apology that only speaks what has gone unspoken.
That being said, Bakugou is a great example of the way that figures of authority (parents, teachers, adults) and institutions both in the real world and this fictional universe reward violent behavior while also leaving mental and emotional health — both his own and of the people Bakugou hurts — unchecked, and part of the way he lashes out at others is because he was never taught otherwise.
And by that, I’m referring to the ways that are to me, genuinely disturbing. For example, yelling at his friends is chill. But telling someone to kill themselves, even casually and without intent and then misinterpreting everything they do as a ploy to make you feel weak because you're projecting? And having no teachers stop and intervene, either because they are afraid of you or because they value the weight that your Quirk can benefit society over the safety of children? That, to me, is both real and disturbing.
Not only that, but his parents (at least, Mitsuki), respond to his outbursts with more outbursts, and while this is likely the culture of their home and I hesitate to call it abusive, I do think that it contributed to the way that he approaches things. Bakugou as a character is very complex, but I think that he is primarily an example of the way that the Hero System fails people.
I don’t think we can write off the things he’s done, especially using the line of reasoning that “He didn’t mean it that way”, because in real life, children who hurt others rarely mean it like that either, but that doesn’t change the effect it has on the people who are victimized, but to be absolutely fair, I don’t think that the majority of Bakudeku shippers, at least now, do use that line of reasoning. Most of them seem to have a handle on exactly how fucked up the Hero society is, and exactly why it fucks up the people embedded within that society.
The characters are positioned in this way for a reason, and the discoveries made and the development that these characters undergo are meant to reveal more about the fictional world — and, perhaps, our world — as the narrative progresses.
The world of the Hero society is dependent, to some degree, on biopolitics. I don’t think we have enough evidence to suggest that people with Quirks or Quirkless people place enough identity or placement within society to become equivalent to marginalized groups, exactly, but we can draw parallels to the way that Deku and by extent Quirkless people are viewed as weak, a deviation, or disabled in some way. Deviants, or non-productive bodies, are shunned for their inability to perform ideal labor. While it is suggested to Deku that he could become a police officer or pursue some other occupation to help people, he believes that he can do the most positive good as a Hero. In order to be a Hero, however, in the sense of a career, one needs to have Power.
Deviation from the norm will be punished or policed unless it is exploitable; in order to become integrated into society, a deviant must undergo a process of normalization and become a working, exploitable body. It is only through gaining power from All Might that Deku is allowed to assimilate from the margins and into the upper ranks of society; the manga and the anime give the reader enough perspective, context, and examples to allow us to critique and deconstruct the society that is solely reliant on power.
Through his societal privileges, interpersonal biases, internalized complexes, and his subsequent unlearning of these ideologies, Bakugou provides examples of the way that the system simultaneously fails and indoctrinates those who are targeted, neglected, enabled by, believe in, and participate within the system.
Bakudeku are two sides of the same coin. We are shown visually that the crucial turning point and fracture in their relationship is when Bakugou refuses to take Deku’s outstretched hand; the idea of Deku offering him help messes with his adolescent perspective in that Power creates a hierarchy that must be obeyed, and to be helped is to be weak is to be made a loser.
Largely, their character flaws in terms of understanding the hero society are defined and entangled within the concept of power. Bakugou has power, or privilege, but does not have the moral character to use it as a hero, and believes that Power, or winning, is the only way in which to view life. Izuku has a much better grasp on the way in which heroes wield power (their ideologies can, at first, be differentiated as winning vs. saving), and is a worthy successor because of this understanding, and of circumstance. However, in order to become a Hero, our hero must first gain the Power that he lacks, and learn to wield it.
As the characters change, they bridge the gaps of their character deficiencies, and are brought closer together through character parallelism.
Two sides of the same coin, an outstretched hand.
They are better together.
How to Kill Middle Schoolers, and Why We Should
I think it’s fitting that in the manga, a critical part of Bakugou’s arc explicitly alludes to killing the middle school version of himself in order to progress into a young adult. In the alternative covers Horikoshi released, one of them was a close up of Bakugou in his middle school uniform, being stabbed/impaled, with blood rolling out of his mouth. Clearly this references the scene in which he sacrifices himself to save Deku, on a near-instinctual level.
To me, this only cements Horikoshi’s intent that middle school Bakugou must be debunked, killed, discarded, or destroyed in order for Bakugou the hero to emerge, which is why people who do actually excuse his actions or believe that those actions define him into young adulthood don’t really understand the necessity for change, because they seem to imply that he doesn’t need/cannot reach further growth, and there doesn’t need to be a separation between the Bakugou who is, at heart, volatile and repressed the angry, and the Bakugou who sacrifices himself, a hero who saves people.
Plot twist: there does need to be a difference. Further plot twist: there is a difference.
In sacrificing himself for Deku, Bakugou himself doesn't die, but the injury is fatal in the sense that it could've killed him physically and yet symbolizes the selfish, childish part of him that refused to accept Deku, himself, and the inevitability of change. In killing those selfish remnants, he could actually become the kind of hero that we the reader understand to be the true kind.
That’s why I think that a lot of the people who stress his actions as a child without acknowledging the ways he has changed, grown, and tried to fix what he has broken don’t really get it, because it was always part of his character arc to change and purposely become something different and better. If the effects of his worst and his most childish self stick with you more, and linger despite that, that’s okay. But distilling his character down to the wrong elements doesn’t get you the bare essentials; what it gets you is a skewed and shallow version of a person. If you’re okay with that version, that is also fine.
But you can’t condemn others who aren’t fine with that incomplete version, and to become enraged that others do not see him as you do is childish.
Bakugou’s change and the emphasis on that change is canon.
Parallels in Abuse, EnemiesRivals-to-Lovers, and the Necessity of Redemption ft. ATLA’s Zuko
In real life, the idea that “oh, he must bully you because he likes you” is often used as a way to brush aside or to excuse the action of bullying itself, as if a ‘secret crush’ somehow negates the effects of bullying on the victim or the inability of the bully to properly process and manifest their emotions in certain ways. It doesn’t. It often enables young boys to hurt others, and provides figures of authority to overlook the real source of schoolyard bullying or peer review. The “secret crush”, in real life, is used to undermine abuse, justify toxic masculinity, and is essentially used as a non-solution solution.
A common accusation is that Bakudeku shippers jump on the pairing because they romanticize pairing a bully and a victim together, or believe that the only way for Bakugou to atone for his past would be to date Midoryia in the future. This may be true for some people, in which case, that’s their own preference, but based on my experience and what I’ve witnessed, that’s not the case for most.
The difference being is that as these are characters, we as readers or viewers are meant to analyze them. Not to justify them, or to excuse their actions, but we are given the advantage of the outsider perspective to piece their characters together in context, understand why they are how they are, and witness them change; maybe I just haven’t been exposed to enough of the fandom, but no one (I’ve witnessed) treats the idea that “maybe Bakugou has feelings he can’t process or understand and so they manifest in aggressive and unchecked ways'' as a solution to his inability to communicate or process in a healthy way, rather it is just part of the explanation of his character, something is needs to — and is — working through. The solution to his middle school self is not the revelation of a “teehee, secret crush”, but self-reflection, remorse, and actively working to better oneself, which I do believe is canonically reflected, especially as of recently.
In canon, they are written to be partners, better together than apart, and I genuinely believe that one can like the Bakudeku dynamic not by route of romanticization but by observation.
I do think we are meant to see parallels between him and Endeavor; Endeavor is a high profile abuser who embodies the flaws and hypocrisy of the hero system. Bakugou is a schoolyard bully who emulates and internalizes the flaws of this system as a child, likely due to the structure of the society and the way that children will absorb the propaganda they are exposed to; the idea that Quirks, or power, define the inherent value of the individual, their ability to contribute to society, and subsequently their fundamental human worth. The difference between them is the fact that Endeavor is the literal adult who is fully and knowingly active within a toxic, corrupt system who forces his family to undergo a terrifying amount of trauma and abuse while facing little to no consequences because he knows that his status and the values of their society will protect him from those consequences. In other words, Endeavor is the threat of what Bakugou could have, and would have, become without intervention or genuine change.
Comparisons between characters, as parallels or foils, are tricky in that they imply but cannot confirm sameness. Having parallels with someone does not make them the same, by the way, but can serve to illustrate contrasts, or warnings. Harry Potter, for example, is meant to have obvious parallels with Tom Riddle, with similar abilities, and tragic upbringings. That doesn’t mean Harry grows up to become Lord Voldemort, but rather he helps lead a cross-generational movement to overthrow the facist regime. Harry is offered love, compassion, and friends, and does not embrace the darkness within or around him. As far as moldy old snake men are concerned, they do not deserve a redemption arc because they do not wish for one, and the truest of change only occurs when you actively try to change.
To be frank, either way, Bakugou was probably going to become a good Hero, in the sense that Endeavor is a ‘good’ Hero. Hero capitalized, as in a pro Hero, in the sense that it is a career, an occupation, and a status. Because of his strong Quirk, determination, skill, and work ethic, Bakugou would have made a good Hero. Due to his lack of character, however, he was not on the path to become a hero; defender of the weak, someone who saves people to save people, who is willing to make sacrifices detrimental to themselves, who saves people out of love.
It is necessary for him to undergo both a redemption arc and a symbolic death and rebirth in order for him to follow the path of a hero, having been inspired and prompted by Deku.
I personally don’t really like Endeavor’s little redemption arc, not because I don’t believe that people can change or that they shouldn't at least try to atone for the atrocities they have committed, but because within any narrative, a good redemption arc is important if it matters; what also matters is the context of that arc, and whether or not it was needed. For example, in ATLA, Zuko’s redemption arc is widely regarded as one of the best arcs in television history, something incredible. And it is. That shit fucks. In a good way.
It was confirmed that Azula was also going to get a redemption arc, had Volume 4 gone on as planned, and it was tentatively approached in the comics, which are considered canon. She is an undeniably bad person (who is willing to kill, threaten, exploit, and colonize), but she is also a child, and as viewers, we witness and recognize the factors that contributed to her (debatable) sociopathy, and the way that the system she was raised in failed her. Her family failed her; even Uncle Iroh, the wise mentor who helps guide Zuko to see the light, is willing to give up on her immediately, saying that she’s “crazy” and needs to be “put down”. Yes, it’s comedic, and yes, it’s pragmatic, but Azula is fourteen years old. Her mother is banished, her father is a psychopath, and her older brother, from her perspective, betrayed and abandoned her. She doesn’t have the emotional support that Zuko does; she exploits and controls her friends because it’s all she’s been taught to do; she says herself, her “own mother thought [she] was a monster; she was right, of course, but it still [hurts]”. A parent who does not believe in you, or a parent that uses you and will hurt you, is a genuine indicator of trauma.
The writers understood that both Zuko and Azula deserved redemption arcs. One was arguably further gone than the other, but that doesn’t change the fact that they are both children, products of their environment, who have the time, motive, and reason to change.
In contrast, you know who wouldn’t have deserved a redemption arc? Ozai. That simply would not have been interesting, wouldn’t have served the narrative well, and honestly, is not needed, thematically or otherwise. Am I comparing Ozai to Endeavor? Basically, yes. Fuck those guys. I don’t see a point in Endeavor’s little “I want to be a good dad now” arc, and I think that we don’t need to sympathize with characters in order to understand them or be interested in them. I want Touya/Dabi to expose his abuse, for his career to crumble, and then for him to die.
If they are not challenging the system that we the viewer are meant to question, and there is no thematic relevance to their redemption, is it even needed?
On that note, am I saying that Bakugou is the equivalent to Zuko? No, lmao. Definitely not. They are different characters with different progressions and different pressures. What I am saying is that good redemption arcs shouldn’t be handed out like candy to babies; it is the quality, rather than the quantity, that makes a redemption arc good. In terms of the commentary of the narrative, who needs a redemption arc, who is deserving, and who does it make sense to give one to?
In this case, Bakugou checks those boxes. It was always in the cards for him to change, and he has. In fact, he’s still changing.
Give it to Me Straight. It’s Homophobic.
There does seem to be an urge to obsessively gender either Bakugou or Deku, in making Deku the ultra-feminine, stereotypically hyper-sexualized “woman” of the relationship, with Bakugou becoming similarly sexualized but depicted as the hyper-masculine bodice ripper. On some level, that feels vaguely homophobic if not straight up misogynistic, in that in a gay relationship there’s an urge to compel them to conform under heteronormative stereotypes in order to be interpreted as real or functional. On one hand, I will say that in a lot of cases it feels like more of an expression of a kink, or fetishization and subsequent expression of internalized misogyny, at least, rather than a genuine exploration of the complexity and power imbalances of gender dynamics, expression, and boundaries.
That being said, I don’t think that that problematic aspect of shipping is unique to Bakudeku, or even to the fandom in general. We’ve all read fan work or see fanart of most gay ships in a similiar manner, and I think it’s a broader issue to be addressed than blaming it on a singular ship and calling it a day.
One interpretation of Bakugou’s character is his repression and the way his character functions under toxic masculinity, in a society’s egregious disregard for mental and emotional health (much like in the real world), the horrifying ways in which rage is rationalized or excused due to the concept of masculinity, and the way that characteristics that are associated with femininity — intellect, empathy, anxiety, kindness, hesitation, softness — are seen as stereotypically “weak”, and in men, traditionally emasculating. In terms of the way that the fictional universe is largely about societal priority and power dynamics between individuals and the way that extends to institutions, it’s not a total stretch to guess that gender as a construct is a relevant topic to expand on or at least keep in mind for comparison.
I think that the way in which characters are gendered and the extent to which that is a result of invasive heteronormativity and fetishization is a really important conversation to have, but using it as a case-by-case evolution of a ship used to condemn people isn’t conductive, and at that point, it’s treated as less of a real concern but an issue narrowly weaponised.
Love in Perspective, from the East v. West
Another thing I think could be elaborated on and written about in great detail is the way that the Eastern part of the fandom and the Western part of the fandom have such different perspectives on Bakudeku in particular. I am not going to go in depth with this, and there are many other people who could go into specifics, but just as an overview:
The manga and the anime are created for and targeted at a certain audience; our take on it will differ based on cultural norms, decisions in translation, understanding of the genre, and our own region-specific socialization. This includes the way in which we interpret certain relationships, the way they resonate with us, and what we do and do not find to be acceptable. Of course, this is not a case-by-case basis, and I’m sure there are plenty of people who hold differing beliefs within one area, but speaking generally, there is a reason that Bakudeku is not regarded as nearly as problematic in the East.
Had this been written by a Western creator, marketed primarily to and within the West (for reference, while I am Chinese, but I have lived in the USA for most of my life, so my own perspective is undoubtedly westernized), I would’ve immediately jumped to make comparisons between the Hero System and the American police system, in that a corrupt, or bastardized system is made no less corrupt for the people who do legitimately want to do good and help people, when that system disproportionately values and targets others while relying on propaganda that society must be reliant on that system in order to create safe communities when in reality it perpetuates just as many issues as it appears to solve, not to mention the way it attracts and rewards violent and power-hungry people who are enabled to abuse their power. I think comparisons can still be made, but in terms of analysis, it should be kept in mind that the police system in other parts of the world do not have the same history, place, and context as it does in America, and the police system in Japan, for example, probably wasn’t the basis for the Hero System.
As much as I do believe in the Death of the Author in most cases, the intent of the author does matter when it comes to content like this, if merely on the basis that it provides context that we may be missing as foreign viewers.
As far as the intent of the author goes, Bakugou is on a route of redemption.
He deserves it. It is unavoidable. That, of course, may depend on where you’re reading this.
Stuck in the Sludge, the Past, and Season One
If there’s one thing, to me, that epitomizes middle school Bakugou, it’s him being trapped in a sludge monster, rescued by his Quirkless childhood friend, and unable to believe his eyes. He clings to the ideology he always has, that Quirkless means weak, that there’s no way that Deku could have grown to be strong, or had the capacity to be strong all along. Bakugou is wrong about this, and continuously proven wrong. It is only when he accepts that he is wrong, and that Deku is someone to follow, that he starts his real path to heroics.
If Bakudeku’s relationship does not appeal to someone for whatever reason, there’s nothing wrong with that. They can write all they want about why they don’t ship it, or why it bothers them, or why they think it’s problematic. If it is legitimately triggering to you, then by all means, avoid it, point it out, etc. but do not undermine the reality of abuse simply to point fingers, just because you don’t like a ship. People who intentionally use the anti tag knowing it’ll show up in the main tag, go after people who are literally minding their own business, and accuse people of supporting abuse are the ones looking for a fight, and they’re annoying as hell because they don’t bring anything to the table. No evidence, no analysis, just repeated projection.
To clarify, I’m referring to a specific kind of shipper, not someone who just doesn’t like a ship, but who is so aggressive about it for absolutely no reason. There are plenty of very lovely people in this fandom, who mind their own business, multipship, or just don’t care.
Calling shippers dumb or braindead or toxic (to clarify, this isn’t targeting any one person I’ve seen, but a collective) based on projections and generalizations that come entirely from your own impression of the ship rather than observation is...really biased to me, and comes across as uneducated and trigger happy, rather than constructive or helpful in any way.
I’m not saying someone has to ship anything, or like it, in order to be a ‘good’ participant. But inserting derogatory material into a main tag, and dropping buzzwords with the same tired backing behind it without seeming to understand the implications of those words or acknowledging the development, pacing, and intentional change to the characters within the plot is just...I don’t know, it comes across as redundant, to me at least, and very childish. Aggressive. Toxic. Problematic. Maybe the real toxic shippers were the ones who bitched and moaned along the way. They’re like little kids, stuck in the past, unable to visualize or recognize change, and I think that’s a real shame because it’s preventing them from appreciating the story or its characters as it is, in canon.
But that’s okay, really. To each their own. Interpretations will vary, preferences differ, perspectives are not uniform. There is no one truth. There are five seasons of the show, a feature film, and like, thirty volumes as of this year.
All I’m saying is that if you want to stay stuck in the first season of each character, then that’s what you’re going to get. That’s up to you.
This may be edited or revised.
#bakudeku#meta#my hero academia#boko no hero academia#bnha#mha#bakugou katsuki#izuku midoriya#ok these are just my general thoughts in response to the people who have hang ups about this ship#like y’all need to pls chill tf out ok#this is also not comprehensive and could definitely be elaborated on#but it’s just general thoughts#it’s just addressing general opposition I’ve seen#I never thought I’d ever write this much about this ship wtf
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Hey, asking you this as nicely as I can but can you give the immediate victim blaming a break. The absolute lack of respect you have for the people tmc abused is genuinely disheartening. Yes, he’s a shitty person, you’re entitled to hate him but immediately going “well you should’ve seen it coming earlier lol we’ve been saying this” is just ASTONISHINGLY shortsighted and cruel. Have your opinions about him and the situation all you want I would just ask that you please keep it to yourself due to the many many people he’s hurt that are still on here and can see you disparaging them.
ok, that is not what i have been saying. "well you should've known" is not an accurate summary of my feelings on this matter but apologies if thats how it came across. i have been in an abusive relationship where the person did a lot of the same things and i, too, defended that person without considering how it impacted other people. i almost lost my best friend because of how i acted as a result of keeping him in my life while people around me kept telling me to get tf out. i know.
what i am is im frustrated and annoyed by how long people were willing to publicly and passionately defend this guy while apparently fully aware what kind of shit he was doing to other people, many of which is detailed in the callout itself, and how this is now being framed as news. before the document itself was published all me (or anyone) had to go off of was vague posts that amounted to a "callout trailer" and almost all of the information on it was shit that was 100% completely public knowledge. 20+ people being aware of all that goddamn stuff and not one of them publicly stopping associating with him is frustrating. it comes across as spineless and yes, like one anon told GD, gaslighty (although i have my own issues with this being used on a large scale instead of in interpersonal relationships but i understand where they were coming from). his lesbophobia, transphobia (strange that none of the transphobia towards trans men was mentioned?), and panphobia/aphobia/biphobia were widely documented and seeing that on a callout post as if it were news was extremely tiring.
ive since read the callout. the interpersonal actions seem to have been horrible but sadly im not surprised (by which i dont mean "and neither should you" but rather. my spidey senses for this sort of behavior are pretty accurate most of the time and i did see this coming. this isnt me saying im Better than these people or that they shouldve as well but rather that i have learned to identify people of this genre.) by any of them.
also im 75% sure this is tumblr user GD. hello. if not then apologies, its just that the typing here is very similar. if it is, i think you trying to both take accountability for this and process whatever it is youre processing at the same time on tumblr is a bad idea and going to just lead to people feeling hurt and betrayed because while i truly do see where the reaction is coming from (like, truly, i understand, believe me), if you say "i take responsibility for how i acted while being manipulated" but then when people voice their negative feelings you tell them theyre victim blaming you it is going to reflect poorly on you. i dont think you understand how many people were absolutely hurt by the enabling you and your large, massively popular group of friends did for him, including the MASSIVE defense rant you typed up in defense of him when someone sent an ask to the bi jon event about him being panphobic and aphobic. whether its fair for people to expect you to immediately go into depth about it is questionable but dont invite people to do this when you obviously cannot handle it (i dont mean this in a bad way like "oh you should handle it". i mean genuinely this is how you get burnt out and possibly worsen possible future trauma. by trying to immediately placate people without having the mental resources to do so.)
i think the "we dont condone these views and never did!" without ever specifying what they were or doing any other work there is a lazy fucking cop-out. your circle was/is massively popular and a lot of people took all of you as authorities on stuff like headcanons and respectful portrayals of certain characters or identities to the point of accepting your meta as canon (something you havent really dissuaded ever), and associating publicly with someone who would constantly do this kind of shit and then defending him publicly while also positing yourself as an authority isnt something you can just "oops! we never agreed with him!" yourself out of. GD & TF specifically, you are massive blogs. you are babys first TMA blog. people in your askbox hurt and betrayed by this shit are not necessarily there to victim blame you. they are there because they trusted your word when they said "hey seraf reblogged anti pan and anti ace and weird transphobic posts" and you said "seraf is one of my dearest friends and would never do any of those things and im personally offended youd even imply that." i think you dont understand the real life consequences of the massively popular posts and sentiments he made & published and that you helped spread (despite apparently knowing that he was being a massive hypocrite and bigoted towards those groups or identities in his personal life). obviously interpersonal abuse/conflict is going to be "worse" but dear god i hope you collectively understand that "oh btw we never endorsed his views" is a massive copout and a shit apology for the hurt this association and endorsement caused. tmc has been terrorizing this fucking fandom for months with his bullshit and bigotry and you have not been passive bystandars but active enablers.
anyways, hope everyone involved gets to uh, heal i suppose, but i think expecting the people who seraf suicide baited, the groups of trans men he misgendered, the people who he targeted and harassed, the genuine fucking long lasting dysphoria he caused real people to have over his shitty takes re: transness and dysphoria, and the general shit behavior he was allowed to keep up with zero pushback from anyone in his circle of the fandom to drop all the anger or frustration they have for the people who enabled him and defended him aggressively is... unrealistic. and makes you look bad. especially when the doc doesnt even clarify which opinions you still support.
#disk horse#abuse ment#long post#also im ngl some of the shit in the doc rly didnt need to be there if it genuinely was just a warning or whatever#also from what my jewish friends have said the whole section about converts not being jewish seems recklessly irresponsible as a thing to#include with any amount of authority re: the status of converts#But whatever.
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shallow or deep
— “Why would you want a guy with such a large and disgusting burn?” he whispered, his tone thoroughly rejected, broken. It was then that it hit you: did he think he wasn't good enough for you. —
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pairing: todoroki shouto x reader
warnings: fluff, angst (insecurities), cursing
word count: 2,544
a/n: I took the shouto has an insecurity over his scar even if it isnt that deep headcanon and ran with it, I hope yall enjoy this!!!! its been awhile since ive managed to write a fic in a single day!!!
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“You’re quite the handsome man!”
“Oh, thank you.”
“But that scar... don’t you want to get that fixed? I know someone with a quirk who can fix that up for you!”
“Thank you for your concern, but I think I am content with it.”
~
“Without a doubt, you are by far one of the most attractive Pro Heroes to have existed!”
“Thank you for your compliment, but I think it’s my ability to—”
“Don’t you think you would look hotter without your scar? Have you ever considered getting it removed?”
“...no, I haven’t…”
~
“Just imagine how Shouto would look like without his scar, here are some edited pictures for reference!”
“Wow, if I didn’t want to give him my life already, I would sell my soul to the devil to get with a scarless Shouto…”
“I don’t know, I think the scars sexy! Like look at it, it makes him so mysterious and badass! Guys with scars are so fucking hot! But in my opinion, without the scar? Shouto isn’t shit!”
“Guys with scars are hot, I’ll give you that, but not one-fourth of the face scars! He’s extremely handsome still, but it’s a bit tacky for the scar to be there. If it had been like Deku’s arm and hand scars — hell, even Eraserheads face scar — he would be so much finer.”
~
“And just how did you get your scar, Shouto?”
The American interviewer who sat in front of Shouto during this live national interview had the kindest smile on her face, but to the Pro Heroes who sat on the stage alongside Shouto could recognize that shark-like glint in her eyes. Her face was calm, tranquil, beautiful, but her eyes sent bitter acid through the Heroes mouth.
“I’ve already explained what happened in a previous interview,” Shouto spoke calmly, his fingers digging into his knees.
Your eyes looked over to your boyfriend, who seemed to be trying everything in his power to remain calm. You’d only seen this happen through a screen, never in real life.
The interviewer seemed unconcerned with his rebuttal, most likely expecting this from the man who wasn’t one for repeating big stories. Her chin tilted up almost like she was looking down on him, looking down on who he was.
“Well then, I’ll bite,” she leaned forward, and you felt on edge to attack, but a hand gripped your wrist when a cruel smirk spread on her face. “Do you resent your mother for burning you that night? How do you feel about the fact that it was your mother who ruined your charming looks?”
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The car was silent.
Your eyes tried to remain focused on the road ahead of you, but to your misplaced anger and hurt, you focused on the side of Shouto’s face every so often while he drove.
The radio wasn’t even on, something the both of you enjoyed blasting because you would sing stupidly loud and Shouto would hum along in his own mirth. The only sound heard was the tires driving against the gravel road and your irritated breathing.
The two of you had dropped off your friends five minutes ago, the once awkwardly tense car melting to this angry silence between the two of you in the front.
You hadn’t defended him on live television because Momo held you back, and Shouto allowed the interviewer to defile his family’s past abuse with her keen touch. The silence between the two of you was also irritating you.
Once the interview was done, Shouto had been the first to rise from his chair and to leave. And you were hot on his heels. You hadn’t been forgiving to Shouto when you finally corned him.
“How could you let her talk to you like that, Shouto?” you blazoned, your heart hammering in your chest, anger, humiliation, and sorrow riling you up. “She was a total fucking cunt, and you just took it!”
Shouto stared down at you, that old yet familiar distant look in his eyes — that anger that burned brighter than any fire he could produce flaming in both eyes.
“Drop it, y/n,” he all but hissed, his face stone, his tone fierce. “You don’t need to fight every single fucking thing that makes me uncomfortable.”
Those words weren’t enough to make you drop it, had it been any other fight you would have continued to press him for what was wrong with him, but it was that look in his eyes. The old look that you had sworn long ago you’d never allow to meet his eyes again.
The anger, humiliation, and broken look that he used to wear every day.
When Shouto finally parked, he didn’t hesitate to get out of the car, the door slamming loudly while you stumbled to follow after him.
But he was tall, too tall, and was in the house well before you could close your own door. It didn’t deter the way that you stormed towards the house, the devil, and god riding on your shoulder in this battle to figure out what the hell was wrong with Shouto.
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“I don’t resent my mother,” Shouto cooly stated. “It was an unfortunate accident, but fortunately, it hasn’t kept me from anything. I still have complete sight and functionality, so I’m okay. I could never resent my mother.”
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“Won’t you tell me what’s wrong?” you ask, coming into the house.
This was Shouto’s house, something that Endeavor had gifted to him in his expression of apology. He and his siblings had been given their own homes the moment they turned twenty, and shortly after starting your relationship, he had asked you to move in.
You both were now twenty-three. You were neither each other's firsts on many levels, but there was no denying that this was the best relationship the both of you had. You comforted each other to no level, loved each other like no other. It was almost a shame that you didn’t have any feelings for your old classmate during high school because maybe then you’d been together for longer than a year.
But nevertheless, the two of you held no regrets. His house had become yours with him.
It was a bright place, no matter how dull the day was, it was always vivacious and warm in here.
But not now.
The door closed behind you, and you saw Shouto standing at the kitchen table, head lowered, arms tense. The world seemed grey, dull, and cold. You almost swore the house’s temperature was ten degrees cooler while you approached your boyfriend, who appeared to be trapped in his thoughts.
You neared him, your own anger diminishing slowly when you saw the shadows over his eyes, his teeth gnashing in a grit.
Sorrow, humiliation, guilt.
That’s all you could read from him, but you needed more from him.
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The interviewer seems to have expected that answer for she remains unfazed, but that predatorial glint in her eyes remains. The eyes of someone who hasn’t shown off their strongest of cards.
“How about relationship-wise? Have any of the beautiful ladies you’ve dated or have wanted to court in the past told you that you’d be much more handsome without it? Don’t you wish that you could be more normal for y/h/n?”
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“Why would you want a guy with such a large and disgusting burn?” he whispered, his tone thoroughly rejected, broken. It was then that it hit you: did he think he wasn't good enough for you.
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You stood up, the chair you were sitting on scraping loudly against the black floor. The interviewer snapped her attention on you for just a moment, eyes sparkling with the thrill of getting a dramatic reaction from someone.
But Momo and Uraraka held you down, and Sero’s tape came across your mouth to keep you from talking your mind.
“There have been words like that before,” Shouto says, his voice steely smooth. “But as you can see, I’m not dating anyone who shares those same opinions.”
The interviewer seemed to deflate at that answer, obviously not the juicy breakdown she was hoping for. She continued down the mass interview with the most successful class from UA’s hero program, and you continued to fume in your seat. Anger that couldn’t even be quieted by the sour emotions coming off of Shouto in large waves.
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“W-What?” you say almost in a horrified whisper.
Your eyes were wide, unsure if you had heard Shouto correctly. You prayed you had. A fist clenched on your chest, your gaze followed Shouto’s clouded face when he stood up completely.
“You heard me right,” he repeats, his focus on the wall. Finally, his blue and grey eyes focus on you; they’re distant, so far away, you weren’t sure if you could get him back anytime soon. A soft sigh ragged in his chest, nearly choking in his throat when he looked at you. “I was never insecure about my scar growing up… I didn’t have anything in sight except for wanting to be a hero, and hell, even through high school, it didn’t matter. No one in our class mentioned it, and I went on to believe that it while it wasn’t normal, it was in some way.” His hands found your cheeks, pressing onto them gently, and you could feel them tremble slightly. “Then I finally liked someone romantically, and we were thrust into the crazy world of media, and I realized that my burn isn’t normal.”
“S-Shouto…”
“The first person I ever dated told me they knew someone who would fix it up for me for free. The second person… well, they were an idiot and thought if we had children, the burn would be transferred over. More and more people both privately and publicly told me that I would be s-so much better without it… Do you think I’d be better without it?” his lips twisted, and you could only stare up in his eyes that seemed so far away so broken. “Even the ones who liked it, it was some weird fetish of theirs… the truth is, I don’t know how to feel about it. I shouldn’t hate it because it’s who I am, but I hate it because people always have some opinion about it, and no matter what I hear, it always pisses me off. I just… you’re beautiful, y/n. You’re the person in my life that I never want to see leave, and I know that it’s shallow to value people only for their beauty, but I’m not beautiful. Scars and burns are not beautiful, they’re ugly... My looks are decent at best, but that’s all that makes me desirable. Not you, though. You’re gorgeous, your personality and attitude never fail to make everyone feel better, and yet you’re here with me… why would you love someone like me?”
There it was.
His eyes kept to your feet as if he wasn’t worthy of staring you in the face. His hands continue to hold against you in a weak grasp, as if he pressed any harder against you, you would crumble to dust or say you hated him.
Your hands grasped his wrists, pressing his hands even more against your skin. It was an intense action, so out of the blue that his eyes snapped up to meet yours finally.
Shouto wasn’t sure what to expect when he looked at your face; he knew you were upset about the interview, and truthfully he wished he hadn’t warned Uraraka, Momo, and Sero to keep you down when those questions were asked — should they have been proposed. He also expected tears, you were always one to be more emotional than he was.
What he didn’t expect were steely yet warm eyes.
“You’re an idiot, Todoroki Shouto,” you finally speak. You took a step closer to him, your heartbeat in your throat. This was a raw Shouto standing before you. A Shouto, you had no idea how he reacted, no matter how much you knew him. So, if this was a rebuilding scene, a moment to get him to see what you saw, you would take it. “You’re right, scars and burns are ugly. They shouldn’t be romanticized. It’s also not the same as others, who take scars as a sign of overcoming hardships and victory. Your scar is one of a kind… but like you’ve said, shallow traits aren’t enough…” Your chin trembled just the slightest bit, but you couldn’t let yourself cry. No, you had to be strong for him. “You’re the kindest person I know, which knowing the saint that is Midoriya and All Might, it means a lot. I don’t mean it because you’re my boyfriend, or because I want you to feel better, but you had every reason to not be kind in your life and look at you, you’re gentle, you’re sweet. You also speak your mind, no matter what. Your opinions are valuable, and that’s why you’re such a great leader. You were made to become a hero that surpassed All Might, and you did it without ever once going down the road your father had intended for you. You did that. But if we’re going to be looking at the shallow traits, we can do that.
Your scar is a sign of growth. It’s ugly, and it’s beautiful. It’s ugly because it makes you feel like you’re not good for me. It’s ugly because it was such a dark time for you when it came. It’s ugly because it’s an insecurity. But I also see beauty. It’s beautiful because it’s another place I can tenderly love at night. It’s beautiful because who you were back then is just a scar of who you were. It’s beautiful because it’s a source of your strength despite it all. You can think whatever you want of it, Shouto, think it’s good or bad, but because it’s apart of you I have to and I choose to love it. Why would I ever want you to change who you are if you’re comfortable with it? What kind of lover would I be if I decided to love everything but one part of you?” your fingers trailed to his scarred skin, the red skin forever warm under your touch. “Shallow or deep, I will never stop loving you.”
Tears fell from his eyes, and his lips crashed against yours.
The two of you sink to the floor in this wet and sweet embrace. Lips never tearing from each other, fingers wistfully holding on, a silent prayer to each other of your devotions, and hope to never leave each other’s sides. Your fingers continued to stroke against his scar, and he held you so close until you could no longer kiss.
So your wet and bruised lips pressed against his warm scar, gentle and soft reminders that you were there for him until his faint cries became steady breathing.
Todoroki Shouto may never get over the insecurity of his scar, but he’d be damned if he thought for a second whether it was there or not, you’d love him any more or any less. You loved him entirely, and for that, he was forever grateful.
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𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨
summary // you found your pile of ‘letters’ to hyunjin that contain thoughts that have never been said and decided to write to him one last time.
pairing(s) // hyunjin x gn!reader, hyunjin x oc, slight minho x reader
genre(s) // angst, letter fic
warning(s) // mentions of food, themes of being forgotten, vulgar wording, humiliation, overthinking
word count // 2.0k
author's note // happy birthday @noya-sannnn !! im sorry this was so late hhh you know how i am irl,, but i hope you enjoy this! i love you so much, jane <3 i apologize for the many grammar mistakes gn. i recommend listening to iu’s ending scene while reading this! btw y/n/n means your nickname.
[10/01/14, 3:55am]
dear jinnie,
hi there! it's y/n <3 i hope you're doing okay - i mean of course you are pfft anyways, just writing this short letter (more like paragraph) sort of as a venting mechanism? for things i cant tell you about lol im not so sure how you would call it, since you're so much better at words than i am. basically were like:
hyunjin: ow a brain freeze!
me: haha brain go brrrr
anyways haha yea <3 it's 4am so like,, ill see you at school!
signed,
your loser,
y/n/n
[15/02/14, 12:34am]
yo heartthrob!
im back with this kinda stuff haha it's been a whole? week? since ive written one of these so like yes..hi! i just wanted to say thanks, for today. you really know how to cheer me up huh? you really outdid yourself by setting up that little picnic for us. congrats on making the strawberry cake so perfectly <3 this day will always stay as a core memory in the back of my brain. you're too caring sometimes,,, istg you'll pay for this [maybe hugs?] >:)
signed,
your partner in crime,
y/n/n
[30/02/15, 01:29am]
jinnie-senpai~~
LMAO you hate me calling you that, doesn't change a thing though. hehe,, nways i hope you enjoyed your birthday present :) i got you that really cool skateboard that you wanted. i worked my ass off for that in my mother's garden so like,, you gotta thank me for that a thousand times :D nah jk, its a sincere gift, from me to you. i rarely do this for ANYONE so consider yourself lucky to have a best friend like me -3- also, seungmin is like….kinda the cutest person ever. introduce me to him pls, thank!
signed,
<your bestest friend3,
y/n
(p.s. you're kinda cute too,,,, ig,,, still stinkee tho)
[13/04/15, 9:04pm]
hey 'baby' (HAHAHA ihy for this)
i hope your day was okay! i didn't see much of you today (which was sort of a bummer but wtv) so like…. uh yea. you told me you were doing okay over text, which kinda surprised me because like?? we always video call lol this is kinda the first time,, but its okay, i trust you! (i really hope youre doing alright tho, i'll beat anyone up if they make you sad >:( ) you also called me 'sweetheart' today which was like…. omg wtf haha????????? that was so weird to me for some reason… a good kind of weird :D we haven't done those kinds of nicknames in a while so…. happy to know that they're back in session <3 i talked to the new girl today, she's really cool! like she knows the bean song on tiktok so like its a total win heh, ill introduce you to her tomorrow! you'll love her a lot
signed,
your 'lover',
y/n/n
[08/06/16, 10:23pm]
hey howl (hehe go back to that movie night we had)
this spring break sucks so much,, esp because youre not here (you still couldve brought me along :'[ ) but wtv i hope youre enjoying yourself. ive been hanging out with yeonnie lately and i found out she likes conan grey too like pls i love her sm. can we adopt her?? please???? she told me you guys have been video calling too and that makes me so happy!! you two are getting along so well aaa my precious babies </3
what if you developed a crush on her? haha…..jk unless?? (no jk dont shes all mine, stay away >:) ) anyways, i hope the three of us hang out soon. maybe go to that ice cream parlour where they serve the best cookies and cream?
signed,
your daisy,
y/n/n
[19/07/15, 01:23am]
peepee poopoo hello
heyheyhey!! (heh, haikyuu thingz) i hope youre doing okay! i mean sure you are, with everything going so well. also i feel like you're not telling me something. maybe it's just me? is it? i hope it is because you tell me everything,, we've been talking less these days but its okay! i know how busy you are, especially with your dad always bugging you,,
also, i think yeonbin likes you :0,, she keeps talking about you whenever we hang out. don't get me wrong, its not bad that she likes you but...something doesn't feel right. i feel like i'm being the third wheeler here and like ugh idk. haha laughs yea i think its just me.. im sorry, i didnt mean to do you like this,, anyways, ill see you soon + her too ofc- yall are inseparable lmao
signed,
your moonlight,
y/n/n
[23/07/15, 01:56am]
greetings, kind sir
lol more like mean sir but like aight KSKSK,, anyways,, how have you been? we haven't really talked in a while,, our convos are always so short with it being one-sided :/ i wish you were online more. yeonnie is ignoring me,, do you know why? i think you do,,, but when i asked you just said you didnt know. did i do something wrong? pls tell me..
she blocked my contact the other day and she won't even smile at me when i pass her in the hallways. its,, sad and stressful especially because she was the only one that would genuinely talk to me. i hate to say this,, but i miss you. us, hanging out like the best trio we are, yknow? but i dont think you miss me the same way. sorry, im getting out of hand. i know im just overreacting. im just gonna sleep ig,, good night! sweet dreams,,
signed,
your pink lemonade,
y/n/n
[25/07/15, 03:25am]
hi there
i heard you and her got together?? congrats, jinnie! im so proud of you,, especially because you never had even considered getting a girlfriend a few months earlier lmaO you really woo the ladies huh? anyways,, i hope you've been well since we last talked,, how many days has it been?? i would say nearly a week or so but honestly it feels like a hundred years,, considering you and i used to talk every day. but you have her now to keep you company.
keep this a secret but can you possibly tell me why it hurts when i see her? or when i mention her or even think of her?? is it because she's connected to you? but.. you're my best friend, so why? is it because i miss you? is it because im alone now? is it because you left me with a simple 'i have to go now,, bye y/n/n.'? im not sure either. im being silly, i apologize. ill figure it out sooner or later. sweet dreams, jinnie
signed,
your asswipe,
y/n
[25/07/15, 04:30am]
jinnie
it's because i love you.
signed,
your butterfly,
y/n
[??/08/??, 05:??am]
you
i miss your lame jokes. i miss your smile. i miss your laughs. i miss your funny faces. i miss the way your eyes twinkle. i miss th way you would make me happy just by doing the bare minimum. i miss the disaster you made when cooking breakfast. i miss the night when you snuck me out just to go to that pretty lantern event. i miss when you would call out my name everytime we met. i miss when we would share earbuds in train rides. dont you get it, hyunjin? i miss you.
[??/??/15, ??:??am]
asshole.
please tell me that isn't true, please. you're too kind to do these kinds of things, right? + i was your best friend,, then, why, why did you hurt me like this. i didnt do anything wrong.. you couldve just told me you didnt like me,,, why did she have to tell me? out of all people.
youre so pathetic for this,, i thought you were brave, bold - but youre just a fucking coward. i loved you, i really did. and i realised too late… im sorry. she,, i shouldn't have talked to her in the first place, right? i bet you knew she humiliated me, in front of everyone. of course you did, you were the only one that knew. you told her. fuck, i hate you so much (yet why do i long for you on a night like this?). you know how much that'll affect me and yet, there you are, laughing about it with her.
signed,
fuck off,
you know who i am.
[31/08/15, 03:41am]
ah, jinnie
please tell me this is just a nightmare. please, please. stop just reading my texts, please answer them. jinnie. i miss you so much. i dont care bout her, please just let me be in your arms. i dont care if you love me back, please just talk to me at least. tell me what i did wrong,, jinnie,, please,,, clear these tear stains on my cheek with kisses.
signed,
your fuck-up,
y/n
[15/09/15, 04:59am]
jinnie
why do i keep crying because of you? its been a few weeks since everything has happened. please, nothing has changed. i still love you the same even with all the hatred i have pent up in this stupid brain of mine. i wish i could just walk back in time, to where it all began.
when i first met you in third grade and you pushed me while playing soccer or maybe when we took those ridiculous prom pictures, remember those? i hope you still have them,, because i do too. i hope the pictures of us on your wall still hang there,, it'll remind you of the happy times. hm,, maybe you don't need them.
you already have millions of pictures with you and her,, i bet you printed some and replaced those with ours right? sly dog.
signed,
friend,
y/n/n
[04/02/16, 12:57am]
hey
i went to the park today and saw both of you being happy. it's nice to see your smile again. im sorry i didnt go up to you,, i just thought it would be awkward. when i heard that adorable laugh of yours, it made me realise that i lost something special. but it's okay isnt it? as your happiness matters more than mine.
signed,
y/n
[06/01/20, 08:00pm]
dear hyunjin,
im doing fine here. how about you? gosh,, how long has it been? years? since we last talked to each other. i havent heard from you since. i would just like to say i still think of you sometimes, when watering the plants or dancing while making pancakes. sometimes i think you're here with me too, just being the pals we were.
sometimes i'd see you out, just reading a book in the park or buying pasta sauce at the grocery store. it's nice to see you having a stable life. im not sure if you're still with her or not, but its good to know that you still have that large friend group. also! you're never gonna guess who im dating--
it's minho! do you remember him? the one that i used to hate,, uh yeah. he asked me out the other day- you may wonder how tf,,, i too do not know how tf but he gives the best hugs ever. he gave me the love i wanted from you. he stitched my heart back together after it broke,, i love him so much, jinnie..
it's snowing,, do you remember when we would skate on the frozen lake in front of your house? are your parents well? i wonder if your mother still has those earrings i bought for her birthday. i never told you this but your laugh and hers sound so similar.
i would just like to say thank you, for everything. you were a big part of my life, up until now. when we see each other after this, we would just be strangers. maybe flash a little smile or give a little wave whenever we greet each other but nothing more. some memories of us would flow in every now and then but it'll just be a short teaser. well, i'll be going now. smile for me, okay?
signed,
the one that loved you the most,
y/n.
taglist // @/noya-sannnn, @crvgio , @neo-shitty
reply to be in my gen taglist!
#kpop#kpop angst#kpop scenarios#kpop boy#stray kids#stray kids angst#stray kids x reader#stray kids scenarios#stray kids au#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin#hyunjin angst#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin x you#hyunjin x y/n#hyunjin scenarios#hyunjin fluff#ending scene#iu#alachi mind puke
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