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stars-for-circe · 30 days ago

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DISC. #1 ─── SPLIT A CRUSH, FORM A NIGHTMARE

pairing. footballplayer!vi x songwriter!reader

#chap summary. as violet contemplates the future, her mind is warped with all the possibilities with you being one of them. even as she consciously pushes you away, terrified by the aspect, a certain blue-haired sister has other plans in store.

content warnings. wc 4k: annoying little sisters, powder being powder, violet’s insecurities seeping in, fuckgirl!vi if you squint.

#dykenote ◟ ྀི okay i promise they will have more interaction next chapter #things will happen but also this is a slow burn yk the vibe. but here’s the official first installment. we’re on violet’s brain on this introduction. i’m trying this think where each chapter, the perspective will be flipped. but lmk what you think! m’so curious on what y’all think of it.

series masterlist.

Piltover University. Spring Semester. Year three.

Vi has caged herself, similar to a wild animal, waiting for scraps to be given. In this intense, there isn’t anyone left to take the rap for her. She wants to blame Ryder. She’s always been forgetful, a bit of a mess honestly.

From losing her car keys in between the cushions on the couches, unable to find her chromebook before class, and last Wednesday Ryder forgot a date the two of you had. Placing you on the last notch of her belt, deeming you to be sufficiently insignificant. Vi wasn’t sure what to make of it.

When Vi went to bed that night, she thought of you. The disappointment in your eyes when you threw away wasted food from the back terrace. Three hours you waited. Three. Part of her wanted to join you so it wasn’t a total waste. She hates seeing you with sorrow buried beneath the light in your eyes.

You deserve more than a girlfriend who can’t even be bothered to remember a date. Vi didn’t say anything. Being closer to Ryder makes things more complicated than she intends it to be. By now Vi knows better, getting involved with hearts involved, but her consciousness doesn’t recognize reason. For the first time in her life, she recognizes it never has.

She should have let the phone ring. The blue-incased iphone didn’t even belong to her. Let you leave a voicemail to your apparently sort of ex-girlfriend. With your name sprouting across the bright screen, she couldn’t help herself.

How could she have known? She even smiled when you began yelling. So much passion bottled up inside you. A lot of hatred laced on your tongue. It only intrigues Vi even more.

You’ve been a little bit crazy, a fire waiting to be tamed but she would rather get burned then to snuff you out. Time and time again, the scripture of her heart rings like new found love, the single ounce of cadence worth relying on — how much she loves and how much it hurts.

Love and reason, the trials and tribulations that follow haunting her even now. When she is believed to be so far removed, the past is still the present and she’s troubled with a satiated tongue begging to taste the future. Even now, two days later, she’s smirking at the fact you became so flustered you hung up. God, did it feel good. It was fucked. And so is she.

The entire week has been a blur if she’s honest. Between classes, football practice, her studies she feels drowned in — Vi is either coddled up in her room or studying at the library. There’s solace in keeping herself so busy she hardly has time to think.

Needing a new change in scenery, she decides to study at the park, right across the street from her favorite cafe. Spring settles in her chest, daisies pushing from the soil and a new bed of flowers begin to blossom.

It’s her favorite time of year. Not to mention every Saturday when she’s on the field, cleats digging into the dirt, some jerseys spread amongst the crowd, and when Vi sees her number she can’t help but grin. Or the sunflower seeds in the stands, Ryder at the goal line, her coach yelling at them to kick it in gear. Sex couldn’t compare to this. Well, maybe. Not the sex she’s been having lately.

Adrenaline heavily pumping in her veins coaxing her into a high she constantly chases. When the bell is being kicked with her feet, quick-fading an opponent before passing it to Sev and watching her score it through the net, she’s never felt herself filled with such purpose. The roars of the smaller stadium is enough to make her smile from ear to ear.

Her family was in the crowd. Vander, Powder, Mylo, and Claggor. Even though he’s never been a fan of any kind of sport, Silco shows his support.

The reason she was pushed enough in high school to qualify for a scholarship — her family. Made up of half-bloods and hardship, each of them whole-heartedly belonged to each other. A love that’s fierce and gentle. At one point, she never thought she would get to have it again. Leave it to her family to prove her wrong.

It’s why Vi has to be aggressive with her study work. She couldn’t bear the heavy disappointment in their eyes if she let them down. Never could it even be an option. The very reason why Ryder stuck to her like glue in the beginning. Neither of them really came from a lot. Had to take what they were given and double it.

Two sides of the same coin, landing in the same pile of shit, but making a life that constitutes more. Vi has never been so grateful. Of course she had friends, girlfriends, but none of them really understood.

Especially now that she’s here — Piltover University — life couldn’t be more different. Growing up in Lanes, this kind of future isn’t even conceivable. It was a shot in the dark. All you could do was hope your light shined bright enough for the topside to see.

With Powder’s help, and with her instilling new found studying habits, not to mention her athletic ability on the field, all of it came to her so easy. Pivoting with a ball being kicked across the turf, that’s what she knew better than anything. Relationships funneled through her life but this is the one love that wouldn’t give up on her.

When her pearly-white cleats are stained like moss with each drive of her feet digging into the surface, Vi becomes someone different.

Someone who could reach infinite options. More than she was given and all of what she earned. So, if she has to study a little bit more and party less — it doesn't feel like a big sacrifice. As the last two years went on, Vi could feel Ryd slipping. When the two of you started dating six months ago, it only became worse.

Dodging practices, needing Vi’s notes on a weekly basis, she couldn’t stop falling behind. It’s when the distance between them started. Vi took her future seriously. Even if she did love Ryd like a sister, she wasn’t going to let anything drag her down. Whether it be moving into the pros or falling back on her business major, she could have everything she’s worked so hard for.

After this spring, there’s only two semesters left. Her future is right in sight. Nothing is going to get in her way. No attachments, no girls, no distractions. Her entire life is contingent on the next year.

Vi hates to admit it. Even to herself, the desire to announce it becomes sealed, barreled under lock and key. Almost like if it was confessed, every bit of her dreams would be cracked and soon crushed under her maker’s hands.

March is the lull before all of it ramps. Finals, one game after the other before summer claims another season and she can return home before camp for preseason begins.

Lanes makes her feel less like an imposter but there’s a fealty of home she can’t shake. It’s why she likes to visit for a couple weeks. Possibly even a month. Feeling a glimpse of her former self brings comfort, less like she abandoned her family, the physical distance is small yet it seems to make an impact on her.

Their home wraps around her like a second skin, claiming comfort in a warm way. Like honey dripping to the bottom of a boiling hot tea. A feeling Piltover has yet to achieve.

Frostly frigid, the Pilties nip at her scars, in hopes she might resemble the rocky moon instead of the blinding sun. Not enough shine to go around for someone who was never one of them.

Every day Vi grows more isolating than the next, each breath she takes in Piltover is a punctured lung, making it harder to breathe.

When Powder visits with a slight overstay to her welcome, Vi doesn’t bicker. Part of her even welcomes the intrusion. Ryd is the only person she really has. On the surface, there’s always a lot of people around her. Ever since she took the team to nationals in her freshman year, gnawing paws have been greedy with her.

Expecting to be social, press post-game interviews drowning her anytime they had the chance. She tries not to be too freaked when there’s headlines of her online, or she sees videos of main media outlets critiquing her mistakes and praising her in top highlights. Even the godforsaken fan edits. She really tries her best to not think about those.

The heat on her name is everything she needs to become a professional athlete. But with all of it comes popularity she doesn’t care for. Endless invites to parties, girls who want every ounce of her attention — Vi just wants to get through it. Media she has to be agreeable for even though she prefers pussy in her mouth and a fake dildo to split a woman on. Stress for her breaks at an all time high. Every day she feels her teeth grinding an ounce tighter. Her pressure elevates more. It won’t be long before she cracks.

But Powder likes to fuck with her and the attention she gets. Way too much. She doesn’t tell Powder how much she loves it. How human it makes her feel.

messages. one new notification. 1:15pm: i miss you, baby. it’s been two weeks and wayyyy too long.

“Well, would you look at this!” Powder’s eyes bulge at the new message before Vi can turn her phone face down. It’s too late. The inevitability of the ever so curious gaze forming walls around her, waiting to cage in her older sister.

“Oh, don’t—” Vi manages to snatch her phone, thank god, and secures the device in the pocket of her oversized sweatpants. “I’ve had enough of that from last time. I still have to deal with you telling Ash I’m in love with her. She’s convinced I’m too shy to make a move.”

Powder laughs, hysterically. As if it’s the most comical action to be made in the entire world. Vi’s annoyance on full display with the over-exaggerated eye roll. It’s more than she wants to stomach. Her little sister has this thing, an ability to see right through her. Most of the time she can deflect but Vi is out of practice from Powder’s antics. The tolerance for her sharp mouth is exceedingly low.

“She doesn’t know you very well. Shy? When it comes to women? Must not know about you know wh—”

Vi closes her eyes, visibly pinching the bridge of her nose. “Can we not?”

“Suppose my matchmaker skills were off that day.” Powder shrugs her shoulders. It’s not a big deal. Really. Violet just dodges the one class she has with her. “What about her?”

Of course it’s you.

It’s not even been a week since the small strings of text stopped. Four days. Vi hasn’t stopped thinking about you. Imagining your flustered expressions, the secret one hidden behind your phone. The stupid hang up has her mind jumbled. More conflicted than she should ever allow. You must have your contacts out. The brown-tortoise frames flutter on the bridge of your nose framing your full cheeks and bright eyes.

The rest of your attire is simple enough. A white button-up hanging loosely with the sleeves rolled up to your forearms, a sleeveless tank matching in color with simple blue-denim jeans. Your hair partially pinned up in a dreamy way, curls highlighting your glowing cheekbones, maybe Vi even sees dimples forming dents in your cheeks. Or she could be just imagining things.

“You could stop the drooling.” Powder smirks. “Or don’t.”

“Powder—”

It’s a warning. One Powder will not heed. Vi knows it the moment it flies out of her lips but she hopes if her head is stooped low enough, maybe you’ll walk past the both of them. She can’t deal with you. Not when you’re looking perfect, gorgeous in an effortless way. If she didn’t adore you so damn much it would make her sick with envy.

“Finally picked a winner.” Her plotting spirit grins, watching Vi unable to contain the softest eyes encapsulated by you.

“Enough.” Vi nips. Turning to another page of her textbook. A chapter she’s hardly paying any attention to. “I’m not having you mess with this one.”

“What’s so special about her? Did Violet finally fall in love? Was that her who texted you?”

“I fucking wish.” Vi groans in her textbook before a study group a few tables over effectively shushes her. Fucking nerds. Who comes to the park anyways? It’s loud. Dogs parking, moms gossiping about their kids across the street, frisbee golf being played throughout the park. Not exactly a quiet scenery.

“You’re usually not this honest with your…feelings.”

“Can’t be honest with anyone else about it. Especially not here.” Vi breathes it out in one solid breath. Hoping that the words fly away and take her away with them.

Powder doesn’t push. It seems the sincerity in her eyes follows Vi’s gaze. Having a longing like this is worse than death. Prickly thorn pricking at her sides, puncturing her anytime you’re in her vicinity.

The cafe is just across the street. Vi is here constantly and she’s never seen you here once. You look nervous as you gaze up at the menu board outside. Book in hand as you pick at your chipped nail polish. Eyes scanning over as you fidget with the mixed assortment of gold and sterling-silver rings on the base of your fingers.

“We have an extra chair.” Powder is horribly eager to get another piece of you. One single conversation would be enough for her. Vi is just entirely too nervous, possibly even a bit greedy, to offer it. The moments she has with you, however small they may be, always felt like they only belonged to her. She’s desperate to keep it that way.

The solidarity Vi finds when she’s alone wondering how she can stomach another day in the world — and your laugh plays on an endless loop. The delicate tone of your voice reverbs in her mind, chants of her name she wishes you would whisper in the dead of night.

“No—”

“Fine. But you have to go talk to her. Now.” Powder picks up a single chip from Vi’s plate. “Or I’m finding out every little thing about her. Find out if she likes you. Give her a call or two.”

She doesn’t. But the last thing Vi needs is for Powder to meddle in it. Nothing she can’t let wallow. A blip feeling that comes and goes. Powder can’t go and muck it all up with words she’ll shamelessly release without a second thought.

“I hate you.” Violet curses underneath her breath but there’s no true malice. Not a drop of it.

Doubts make a home in the forefront of her insecurities, wondering if this is even a good idea in the first place. Ryder and you on the rocks, her leaping heart quivering each time you find her eyes in the bone-crushing way you manage. The resolve in her spine cracks underneath the pressure. Unresolved feelings latched on to her like a disease, making her crumble when she’s just a mere few feet away from you smiling softly.

She waits to cross the street, watching you with a careful eye with a slight hope you might dodge inside and not see her. The second she does, you spot her with immediate anticipation. Like Vi texted you and it wasn’t your sixth sense coming in.

“V!” You screech when you see her.

Powder is never going to leave her alone now.

A part of her wishes you hadn’t seen her. Maybe for some reason, you’d forget her from your memory. It would do her wonders if you did. Here you are, beaming brightly in a way Vi will never forget. She even lets you nickname an already shorter version of her name. From the depths of her heart, Vi is indiscreetly aware of how much the name would irritate her if it came from anyone else.

One embrace from you melts her. Viciously making wonders on her skin mixing in with her own, claiming Vi as the serotonin drips in her brain. She will spend hours making sure every part of you leaks right out. It’s the only way she can save herself from your new found freedom.

She knows how in love you are with Ryd. Despite your anger festering last night, a reality that Vi will slap on her skin. You being single on a temporary technicality doesn’t change things. Ryd is just much more oblivious and idiotic than she thought. Treating you like a child who can’t make your own decisions. It’s college. Some are more experienced than others. Who cares? But apparently, Ryd did.

“You’re just who I wanted to see. I was going to call you once I got home.” You grab her hand like you’ve done it a million times before. Delicate fingertips warm the back of it, sensitive skin igniting at your touch.

You were?

Vi lets the question seal itself on her tongue. She looks back for a second to see Powder already gathering her books and fleeting off in the direction of her apartment. Worries of her things being left behind already skyrocketing. It’s a small comfort to have Powder reading her mind.

You only let her hand go when the two of you sit on opposite sides of the booth. Vi is thankful for it. Now, she might stand a chance of thinking clearly. Vi orders mindlessly and she watches as the waitress flirts with you in a way you don’t seem to recognize. Like you’re not aware of how blindly beautiful you are. It makes every inch of her sick.

Eventually the waitress leaves, your focus lasered in on her, a rapid heartbeat to match.

“I want your help—” Vi crunches on your words, hoping it would be hard for her to stomach, and all she craves is more of a taste.

“With what exactly?” She doesn’t really know what to expect if she’s being honest with herself. Your relationship didn’t go behind the invisible string of Ryder. Now more than ever, answering the phone call is seemingly and continuously biting her in the ass.

“Well…you’re experienced—” If only you knew. “You obviously know how to talk to girls and to land them.” Funny you say that. “And that’s something I need to do if I want to get Ryd back. It’s what we both want.”

“It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself of it.”

Vi is saved by Beth, the waitress who can’t or won’t stop eyefucking you. Not that she cares that she’s filling your sugar-filled soda you’ve barely touched and has yet to refill her water with lemon even though the glass is more than half empty. Batting her raven-black eyelashes at you, expecting you to kiss every single one. She really isn’t thinking about it.

If anything, Vi knew the words would be difficult for you to stomach. The reality of the situation is clear as day. Ryder wants to do something you clearly don’t want but you love her too much to say otherwise. It’s a jab Ryder shouldn’t have made — the lack of pussy you have on your roster — an obvious cop out for whatever is really going on.

And Vi is always caught in the middle.

Maybe for your pride, and maybe for the sake of not wanting to be pushed in this fucked up arrangement, Vi can’t just come out and say it. Every form of the truth would be like a scarlet letter, branding the sinking feeling that drops deeper when you say her name or greet her with a smile. Or a shot of the nickname you gave her. Your adoration stings like untethered devotion, a sin she desperately wants to commit.

The devil on her shoulder craves to know what changed from wanting all of it to end to giving what Ryd wants. Have the two of you talked? Or did your anger simply gravitate towards complacency? Did Ryder even ask if this is what you want? Or did she just expect it from you?

“V? Where’d you go?”

“Sorry— um nowhere, I’m here.” She can’t help herself from being anywhere else. Even if she tried, her devilish sister with sweet intentions is hell bent on making sure she doesn’t operate the rest of her life alone. Powder doesn’t know yet that you’re the wrong girl. It would never work out.

“That party is tomorrow night? The one you told me about?” Fuck it is. “I thought maybe I could go like you suggested. Meet someone and get whatever I need out of my system.”

Is that what you want? To get fucked by someone just because your girlfriend is an idiot and can’t appreciate what she already has? What’s under her fucking nose, the most perfect woman I’ve ever met, entranced by my best friend and I’m the one sentenced to be tortured until graduation.

“I could introduce you to uh — someone, who would just want a one time thing.”

I need to get you away. To put an end to this nightmare. Whatever it takes to get you back in Ryder’s arms and away from me.

“Really? You would do that for me?”

I would do anything for you. The thought snaps out at Vi but she swallows it, drinking the rest of her water Beth can’t seem to fill. When it’s time to bring the check, Beck asks for your number, right in front of her. Caressing your arm in a way that Vi thinks is completely unprofessional but you’re beaming with delight. Practically seeing rainbows and sunshine behind your eyes.

“Y-yeah, sure.” You fumble and Vi adds her favorite cafe to places she now has to avoid. How the fuck is she going to set you up with someone when seeing you flirt with a stranger makes herself want to become an arsonist to her own body?

Vi has never paid a check so quickly, ushering you out as you smile at the new contact in your phone. Dissonance might just be the cost to see the sparkle gleam in your eyes again. Vi insists on walking you back to your car, half a mile in the opposite direction but it doesn’t bother her one bit. In another life, maybe this could have been after your first date, jitters making the both of you anxious, but instead Vi weathers the anxious pit in her belly alone.

“Can you pick me up tomorrow before the party? I don’t think I can go alone. I’m not really built for that.” Vi smiles, shoving her hands in her pockets, if your fingers accidentally touch hers one more time she’ll latch onto them — and might never let go.

“Yeah. We can arrange that.” She’s trying to be calm, serene, someone steady enough for you to latch onto. That’s what you need. Besides your two best friends, the ones she’s seen you on facetime a few times, you don’t have another person. It’s only Ryder. Even if she’s being a human bag of shit right now, even avoiding Vi like she knows of your fateful phone call, Ryder would never want you to be alone and suffering.

“Well, pick me up at seven, yeah?” You lean against your jeep, watching Vi with pleading eyes, pouty and heaven sent.

Vi takes in your nervous picking of the cotton sleeves you pick at. Before Vi even knows exactly what she’s doing, calloused fingers reach out and play with one of the buttons on your shirt. You stop talking — you’re only watching her — and her gaze fixates on the marble button. Hues of grey and gold swirled, the mechanism threaded but your shirt must be old. Or at least worn in.

It’s barely hanging on.

The bones in her body defy her, each of them cracking under the weight of your gaze. Vi knows she’s strong, relentless, hardly anyone on the field can stop her on game day. When the adrenaline pumps through her veins, the highest level of serotonin travels to her mind, making her feel whole again. Complete. Like she’s always been worth something. The game has always been the missing piece for her.

Now Vi worries there might be a second, dislodging all she’s known, forcing her feet to score a goal on the wrong side of the field.

“You should wear that black dress, the one you wore to the banquet.” Vi loses herself in the memory before softly whispering, forgetting it wasn’t only to herself, “I swear the fabric glitters underneath the moon. Sparkling in the reflection of your eyes.”

Was that romantic?

“Do you want me to wear it for you?” You lean into her, eyelashes fluttering, a smile Vi wants to do something with.

Vi craves to let the truth spill, tempting from the tip of her tongue, but honesty with how she feels has never been her speciality. Better to let herself burn than to fall in the abandonment of your beating heart. Scared shadow dreams, it’s what love is made out of. Not the freckles scattered across her cheeks, rearranging in her sleep until they curve in each letter of your name. Love is made of fear. It creeps in the night, swarming nightmares until curses align into fallen dreams.

Fleeting. Fast. And then you fall.

Burying herself into the momentum where Vi has built her weakened pride. Here stands her fear of failure. Fear of no one ever knowing. The fright of never becoming anyone worth remembering. Then there’s hope, colored in the shade of your eyes, begging for a chance but she can’t freely give.

“Simmer down, princess. Save your game for the lacrosse team. Not me.”

“Mhm, we’ll see about that.” Before Vi can blink, you step in her space with a firm hand on her muscled stomach, playing with the flimsy cotton of her tee shirt. Until you, no one had ever touched her this delicately. So sweet she could feel her teeth rotting. There’s no question. She’d let them all decay to keep your timid hands on the expanse of her waist. Rhythmed taps implying you may want to speak more but nothing spills.

Your lips kiss her on the cheek. It lingers. It’s poison. Fuck, it’s downright demolishing. Vi wants more.

“See you tomorrow, V.” With a squeeze of her hand and heart, Vi thinks about fainting right there. “You should wear some of that smudged charcoal eyeliner. It makes the blues of your eyes so bright.”

“I don’t know. I’m sort of shit of putting it on.” Wrong answer.

You’re standing there all polite and adorable, still stroking her clenching abdomen, smirking at her proudly.

“I guess you’ll just have to come over early and let me do it then.”

Shit.

“Whatever you want, princess.”

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i have unfortunately maxed out on people i can tag, i’m sorry tumblr is evil </3 (perhaps i can reblog with more? i’m not sure)

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stars-for-circe · 1 month ago

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pairing. footballplayer!vi x songwriter!reader

#chap summary. ryder huntington is the love of your life until she breaks up with you. for the past two years, she’s been your calm in the storm. the tide pulling you to the serenity of the shore. it’s always been her. yet, four months in, you receive five fatal messages putting an end to your blossoming relationship. you need time, according to her. more time to settle in your queerness. when you unleash your wrath in the dead of night, it’s not her on the other end of the line. it’s her best friend, her roommate, the lesbian everyone wants to fuck, violet vanderson.

content warnings. internalized homophobia, reader is inexperienced with women, college!au, this one is pretty warning free. a little glimpse into their dynamic.

#dykenote ◟ ྀི she’s here! i’m nervous as fuck to post this. never have i loved a project as much as i love this one. very, very excited to continue to share this one. lmk if y’all like it. happy readings angels.

series masterlist.

messages. five notifications from ryder. 1:51 am: i love you babe but i have something to confess. i’ve been thinking a lot about us and how we want different things. part of me can’t help but feel like you’re settling. ⤿ 1:59 am: mel told me the other night how terrified you were when we first kissed. the first time you asked me out. before, i thought it was cute. i know how much you love me. fuck, i really do feel it every time we’re together. but i don’t want you to regret it. you need to go have fun, be single. you’ve only discovered what you like and i want you to be sure it’s me you see a future with. ⤿ 2:15 am: i want to be the person you see your life with but this is truly for the best. we’ll get back together once you’ve figured out exactly what you need. just for a little bit. we need this break. you deserve the queer experience, everything your heart desires. you’re still a baby gay. you need to figure yourself out. ⤿ 2:20 am: the both of us will be so much stronger because of it. i want you to have those experiences and i need to know you love me for me. not just because i’m the first. ⤿ 3:47 am: call me in the morning and we can talk. i only want the best for you. please know that.

Piltover University. Spring Semester. Year three.

5:27 am.

Each new message loads a new bullet in the chamber. Effectively shooting you in the heart as the safety is triggered. You couldn’t help yourself. The phone call made at five in the morning against your better judgement. How could she do this to you? Play your heart like it’s a toy. Some twisted game to be won with you as collateral damage.

“Ryd, you really don’t have the decency to do this in person? Telling me I need to have more experiences because I’m not gay enough? Because I’ve only now realized I like women. You know what? Fuck you. You are everything to me and you give me some shitty fucking texts to end things—”

The blood is pumping through your veins so viciously. Not for a moment do you relinquish an ounce of your terror.

“You are a goddamn coward. If you want to run, at least give me the goddamn respect I deserve and tell me to my face. Feeding me nonsense on how straight I’ve lived my live. I’m goddamn gay. Why would I possibly regret any of this? Regret you? Don’t make me as an excuse. If you want leave? Be gone then. Really Ryd, tell me who the fuck she is? There has to be someone else for you to act like a goddamn idiot.”

Inadequate silence punctures the space between your ribs as you wait for her to speak with whatever dignity she has left. Ready for her to split you open, bared seeds for her flesh to sink into, tailor-made for her to obtain.

Possessively cruel, Ryder Huntington, the goalie who captured everyone’s hearts. Instead of feeling free, your heart is captured in a cage. With her name written all over it. Beady eyes watching as you try to pick the lock. A sunflower basking in the sun shifting to her insecurities illuminated by the moon.

Is she right? Are you biting off more than you can chew?

The same woman you couldn’t help but fall for when she kissed you on New Years Eve underneath the first snowfall of winter. The most romantic moment in memory. All the pining, the tension, the coffee dates you imagined to be nothing more than friendly occurrences with an underlying hope.

This was it.

You’re supposed to get the girl. Ryder is yours and somehow, you still managed to lose her.

“Fuck, Ryd really made a mess of you, huh?” But it isn’t her. No— shit — it’s not—

Oh, fuck me. V.

“Where is she?” You’re seething, molars dig into your gums, the muscle in your jaw twitching in desperation. “Put her on the phone.”

“No can do, princess. She left this morning for her workout.” There’s a crunch on the other line. Her perfectly aligned teeth craving edges in the green apples she loves so much. “Surprised you want to get a hold of her. Doesn’t seem like the two of you are in good spirits.”

You didn’t really know how to feel about her. Mouth sharp as knives, her big-blue eyes subconsciously begging, the inked-art on her back you’ve only seen glimpses of. The one on her neck you think about tracing with your tongue in your dreams.

She’s beautiful, that’s obvious, anyone on campus could tell you that. More striking than her vibrant hair, or the way a few lone pieces jaggedly cut to create her messy, half-brazen mullet. The piercings on her face, the hoop looping through her hose, the two silver gems accentuating her eyebrow.

And the most noticeable, the one that catches your eyes, a black ball pierced through the skilled-muscle in her mouth. Contrasting against her pink tongue as she plays with it in concentration. Making you curse the gods above for making her so goddamn enchanting.

Above everything else, she’s an athlete, top of her game on and off the field. Without even blinking, V can have whoever she likes. Man or woman but she sticks to the latter. Universally adored, and to make matters worse, you see her constantly.

The roommate of your girlfriend, the captain of the football team — you can’t escape her — and it’s puzzling why she’s the one who seems to evade your attention. When you’re alone, V turns on the heat. Flirting in passing so she can make you squirm but not going too far where it could mean anything.

A simple shrug off when you try to address it. The woman on the other end is simply a puzzle you can’t walk away from. Her presence in your life is more prominent than it’s ever been.

In the third year of university, Ryder and her share an apartment across campus. The rent is stupidly expensive and with them both being here on scholarships, neither one of them could afford it alone. A means of financial convenience. Ryder and V have been thick as thieves from second year and they never fight. Almost to a point it’s annoying.

Somehow without trying, she ends up in the middle of your relationship. Petty fights Ryder sometimes draws and then her input is somehow needed. Vanderson has the heart to dismiss herself and that only pisses Ryd off even more. All her anger amounts to a slammed front door; never failing to make you flinch.

Today is just another example of how she unknowingly putting herself in the crossfire.

What's even more embarrassing is this isn’t the most compromising phone call you’ve been in with Vi on the other end. You imagined what she was like as a child — rebellious, troublesome, and with a heart too big for her own good. Even though she does her best to disguise it under her senseless flirting.

Until hallucinations of her love materializes and you can’t endure the idea of her her heart fluttering in tandem with your own.

It’s all a facade. And you see right through her. You have to.

“I knew you would cover for her.” You puff out — you can’t leave and pound on their door and you certainly have way too much pride to even let Ryder think she has that much power over you.

It seems she thinks there’s already too much of a power dynamic hovering over you two. Some weighted blanket threatening to suffocate you both, the dead of night cursing your name on her tongue.

“M’not, princess. She won’t be back for a couple of hours.”

“You are insufferable, Vanderson.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, taking a breath as you try to muster up an ounce of patience.

“Don’t talk dirty to me. You know what that does to me, princess.”

Effortlessly, heat crawls from your chest and flutters on your cheeks and her smirk reaches into your candlelight room. “I do no—”

“But you could find out.” The grin she’s no doubt sporting can be seen through the phone. You’re imagining the high raised eyebrow with the scar you wonder how she got, her picking at the hoop pierced through her nose, or how her calloused fingertips smooth over the gem on her eyebrow piercing when she’s slightly nervous.

You blink yourself out of the pink-haired, lesbian induced daydream.

“I love how quick you are to pick at the dead carcass of my relationship. Really V, it’s so flattering on you.” You’re about to hang up but she says something you’re not expecting.

“Wait— I have an idea.” She takes a beat as you wait for her to finish. Stutters of heavy breath come through the speaker, a single moment is given to appreciate the hitch of her apprehension before she says your name.

“Vanderson.” You repeat back to her. She laughs and for a moment you think it’s an alternate reality where this can happen.

“Look, I could withhold some information. Not tell her you called. But some advice? If you want her back, you have to play it cool. Act like you don’t give a fuck even when you do. Fuck another girl, go on a date at least, show her you’re not disposable.”

“That’s exactly what she wants! I want her, V.”

“Trust me. I know how Ryd works. If she sees you with someone else, she’s not going to be able to stomach it. Even if she hears about it, fuck, that shit would make me sick.” You want to ask why but you press your lips together in a fine line. “Ryd might think she wants this. She’ll crack as soon as she hears about you with someone else.”

She’s kind enough to let you sit in your thoughts for a moment. Digest the information she gives but the more you think about it, the more terrifying it seems — talking to other women who aren’t Ryder.

“You could be my someone else.” You say the words before thinking. Panicking in an instant, you end the call immediately too scorned to face her self-assured reaction. It would make you sick.

Two seconds later there’s a buzz in your pocket. You have a feeling she must have ditched Ryder’s phone for her own.

new message. v: you’re going to need more practice if that’s how you react when you flirt with another girl. ⤿ i wasn’t flirting.

You want to scold the rise of heat in your cheeks. It’s out of bounds. Unexpectedly embarrassing. Riveting to your very core.

v: sure princess. it’s okay if you were. being a single woman and all. you’re allowed. maybe you should. just not with me. it could be good for you. to put yourself out there, it wouldn’t hurt. you could even get fucked by someone. live a little. ⤿ but not by you?

She takes longer to reply. You’ve struck a nerve you weren’t even aware existed. Even if you had stayed on the phone a moment longer, you wonder how she would have reacted. For the sake of dignity, you can’t help but conjure endless capabilities, wrapping around you in a kaleidoscope full of red-violets.

v: not with me. she’s my roommate and teammate in case you’ve forgotten. someone though. v: i’m sure you’ll find it easy. a horny woman won’t be that hard to find especially when you’re this beautiful. go to the lacrosse party after game. abby’s mansion on the hill. you’ll have a whole roster to choose from. win or lose, half of the team will need someone to fuck. ⤿ good idea, v. thanks.

She hearts the message. It should have been the end. Vi had given you solid advice to get your girl. The love of your life — it’s all you craved — but you feel a tug at your chest. Reading over the compliment like it’s sacred scripture. Until each letter is engraved in the depths of your mind. Creating a labyrinth you want to give her the guide for.

The ground beneath you rings and rings and rings. It’s disastrous. You can’t escape her voice in the fortress of her smile. Taunting you with every last breath.

Especially when you’re this beautiful.

You take it as fact but the compliment seems more suited to the Vandersons of the world. Fluttering eyelashes making a joker out of a queen. Stealing hearts one ache at a time — ready to give the fatale finality of a deep cut.

taglist: @littledykeblue @stars-for-circe @marieeeluvsyou @sawaagyapong @riotstemple29 @tessalovesmatcha @jupitism @norwayromanoff @kittymrtnezz69 @fortune777 @baylegend6 @ddandelionfluff @rhian88 @mikellie @jnksvelvet @dysphxriaii @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @loserabby @bluminescent-moon @thalchmy @robinphobia @ferxanda @mars4hellokitty @poobugs @autisticratbagtm @jaycouldbegay @sevikas-whore @krilara @starrysetup22 @ellvimatcha @chellecunttt @thxtmarvelchick @sillypuppy77 @luvwithau @sapphiclittleidiot @klallx @elliesbebegurl @viietta @bluminescent-moon @bleepbloopblabloop

if you wanna be tagged in future parts, leave a comment on this post and i'll add you!

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stars-for-circe · 3 months ago

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some of u authors weird and piss me off

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stars-for-circe · 3 months ago

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Heyyyy….. 🧍🏻‍♀️

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stars-for-circe · 4 months ago

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Should I buy an obsession spell from and etsy witch?

Yes? or Yes?

This is so Aestra core. And YES you should 💯💯💯💯🗣️🗣️🗣️

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stars-for-circe · 5 months ago

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Haymitch and his ducklings

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stars-for-circe · 5 months ago

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haymitch seeing a bunny: "how could I possibly kill a creature that brings to mind my girl?" 🥺

snow seeing mockingjays:

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stars-for-circe · 5 months ago

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Me cuz I said I was gonna start being financially responsible and then proceeded to buy a pair of louboutins….

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stars-for-circe · 5 months ago

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Thank you for the tag pook 🤍🤍

I changed my name because I wanted a fresh start on another app, so I chose Circe because I love her story in Greek mythology. As for the other parts I just liked how they sounded together and it was (at the time) a common theme for usernames to add ___ for ___, so I chose stars + constellations because they are just super pretty and their stories in mythology are so beautiful!!

Join!! @satsuguru @fear-is-truth @taintandviolent @limerlove

Tag game🎉

Tag your moots and ask them where they got the idea for their tumblr accounts name!

For my name it was a nickname I was giving back in middleschool! One of our teacher had a system where we worked with 'wifi' eachtime we talked in class we lost a bar of the "wifi" (was a weird joke and we never held count on that) All the kids usually joked if they needed 'wifi' , they would borrow mine if they wanted to talk more. (I was incredibly shy in middle school, I only talked to like 3 people at school;^;)

They called me Ms. Wifi because of that. I just thought it would be funny if I put 'miss' instead of 'ms' because of my terrible actual wifi connection I have at home lol.

That's my story! Now moots, only if you guys want to, tell us your story.

Tags-> @slipping-lately @firequeenofficial @noagskryf @twinklstarrrr @halfbakedspuds @polterwasteist @rokushi-san @mygedagtes +anyone that sees this and wants to do this as well

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stars-for-circe · 5 months ago

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Here is the post that everyone is waiting for regarding Killerbait/kat/kit.

I just want to preface by saying, if this blog gets confusing at any point, I am willing to answer questions that anyone has. I will NOT be exposing her real name or identity to the public. As there are pedophiles that interacted with her and could potentially cause harm if they became obsessive enough. I am all too familiar with the way that the online-world works and I do not wish any form of physical harm on her. After all, I knew Kat & loved her for nearly four years.

I’m going to try to keep this as simple as I can so everyone can understand. But breaking down almost four years of details will get complicated.

So let’s start from the beginning:

I met Kat during my sophomore year of high school. I was 15 at the time and she was 15 as well. We are the same age, I am just a few months older than her. Which makes us BOTH currently the age of 17. We are both still minors. We became friends very quickly and connected over TLOU because we both made edits of the game and met through TikTok which is how we even became associated with each other. I had a girlfriend at the time, but we both had (unstated) feelings for each other than didn’t get acted on until late into my junior year. In the mean time, she had a different girlfriend after realizing that I wasn’t “available.” We remained friends throughout this entire period of time, there were instances where we didn’t speak as much just because I have a very busy life and so did she. Towards the end of her and her ex girlfriend’s relationship, we got close again, and I even got close with her ex girlfriend. We had a group chat together and we all spoke everyday for a couple of weeks until eventually, her and her girlfriend’s relationship came to an end. Which brings me into the next chapter of Kat and I’s life “together.”

Me and Kat started dating in December of 2023. And we broke up as of this Tuesday. We were together for a year and three months. Our relationship was completely okay up until around August/September. We started fighting over things but they always got resolved and things would be fine, until inevitably they weren’t. And I have just found out yesterday, that she had actually reached out to her ex girlfriend- claiming I was “aggressive” and that there were “other girls.” Both of which are false allegations against me and the person that I am. I would never have considered cheating on Kat, even when she started treating me like I was less than a person to her.

Here is the proof of her and her ex girlfriends conversation about me with time stamps:

This all happened in August, as you can see. We later broke up once in December almost directly after we had hit our one year. I broke up with her because of the mistreatment and then a small miscommunication that was genuinely just the last straw for me. I wish I would’ve kept things that way. But she insisted that we stayed friends and still spoke afterwards, we kept each other on social media, and we both made the mistakes of staying in contact after the break up- which inevitably led to us getting back together after three days.

After that it just never got better. It was another draining 3-4 months of begging to be treated like a person. I begged her to love me, I begged her to care about my successes, I begged her to care about my problems when I had them, I just begged. I did a LOT of begging. And she could typically only give me the words “I’ll try to do better” or “I’m sorry.” Occasionally though, she would give a genuine apology. Occasionally.

On Monday, March 10th of 2025, I asked her if we could call once or twice a month. As we barely ever called. I never even FaceTimed this girl. She never wanted to and would refuse. Calling is very important to me because quality time is one of my verrryyy big love languages. So It really meant something when I got to call her, I truly cherished every moment with her. But she would deny my request almost every time. Which is why I proposed the idea of calling 1-2 times a month. To which she said “I can try” and when I was upset and started texting dryly, she did not respond. She just asked if she could go to sleep. To which I said yes, and then later that evening before I went to bed- I sent her a text telling her “if you don’t love me anymore, it’s okay. You can leave and I won’t stop you.” That morning when I woke up, I saw her response and she told me that she “no longer saw me as a girlfriend, and loved me more as a friend.” And when I asked her if we could fix it, she told me “I hope so.” Which is when I knew it was over. And I told her we should probably break up.

Here is the proof of that conversation as well:

The SS below is the second convo we had that day. Where I asked her if she had me blocked on tumblr. Because last time we broke up she posted about me, but nothing to this extent. I admit I was gonna look if she did, as any ex normally would lol… but I never expected to see the things she posted this time around.

After all of this. Things only got worse, as all of you guys know. Whether you are fans, haters, or neutral on her as a person. We all saw her account go “downhill” as most sane people would say. She started posting her nudes on the Internet and publicly sexting potential adults and minors, as well as saying that they could rape her.

This is all while she is also a minor. She is 17 years old. Seven. teen.

Here is the proof I can provide of that:

Killerbait enabling rape:

And her admitting to it, knowing that it is wrong, since some of you guys are saying that she “might not know better.”:

Proof that Killerbait is a minor:

This is a conversation between me and her mother. I’m keeping it cropped because I want NO part in any form of doxxing or harm towards her family. Or her, for that matter. Which is a big reason why I’m even doing this in the first place. I am SPREADING AWARENESS….:

This is a birthday post I made for her, the date is at the top of the post:

And to provide more proof that she is a habitual liar, here is her lying about texting her ex-girlfriend about me “cheating.” Saying that she “never did that.”:

This is proven to be a lie, as in the screenshots I uploaded above in this blog, show that she OBVIOUSLY messaged her ex girlfriend- claiming I cheated on her, as well as saying I was “aggressive.”

I think that is all. This is all the proof that I have. If there are any questions please feel free to ask. I know I said this was solely about revenge, as I am very angry and hurt. I was molested from ages 6-11 by my own family member. The fact that she is capitalizing off of this kind of topic is sickening. And the fact that she is exposing herself online to potential predators, is sickening as well. I am with everyone when they say that they hope she gets the help that she needs. I genuinely hope that she stays safe and she recovers from everything that she has gone through/is going through. But she needs to stay off of the internet. There will always be creeps lurking, preying on girls just like her. I want to put an end to this.

Thank you to everyone who spent their time reading this and trying to understand the situation. I do not care about “sides” being taken. I just want her to be safe.

(I also want to note that, after knowing her for four years. She never once mentioned having any trauma regarding rape. So throw that excuse for her behavior out the window.)

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