#//but some dark stuff gets referenced and shit

[bikmui]

.they say there are worlds; dare i dream in another? | @unforgottcn

It must be the middle of the night when they wake, because the fluorescent light aches behind their eyes and they wrinkle their nose at the faint stench of sick before realising it is they that stinks of it and the knowledge almost makes them retch all over again.

They turn. Look back at the darkened room and that is where they find him - livid, but in that quiet-but-angry way that they know something is boiling under his skin. It's something in the way he looks at them, all mad-and-disappointed. A single look manages to chastise them better than any lecture (or "lecture") they've ever been given by the man that calls them a daughter.

In any other circumstance, it'd be hot, they think.

Yeah. They could look back at those eyes forever and ever and ever; get lost in how he looks at them, even if it's with that absolutely withering glare that makes them think he might kill them. That'd be hot, too.

And the way Yone's footsteps resound in the hollow hallway reverberate somewhere deep inside them; like he's found some kind of resonance, the kind that chimes with the scared little thing they only knew they had when they were a child. Like he'd reach inside them and pull out their beating, living heart, except they wouldn't be alive, then. Except they would die, well and truly, and not simply of the embarrassment.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Bikmui blinks. It isn't what they expect at all. Their body acts on instinct; shies away from the loudness and the horror and the expectation (they know, inside, that he would never. But the body is a funny thing, reacting to things it knows won't happen, the way their face always heats up a little when he walks past, the way they want to hold him and hold him and hold him and hold him) (they want to hold him so fucking bad, just once, just let them tell him the one time and they'll let it wither away, they promise).

There is horror in Yone's eyes, too, when they finally look back at him. He looks caught. Like he's on some prank show. Like he's on a precipice somewhere, high above the world and they are offering him the easy way out. And the realisation is as awful as the feeling of hiding; makes them want to scratch at it under their skin until it bleeds out and maybe offer it as penance. A sacrifice, if it'll please him.

"I don't- I didn't-" he looks two decades aged when he runs a hand over his face. Like he's speedrun past middle age and doesn't know what to do with himself except lie and wait to die.

It makes them want to die, too.

"...It's fine," they say quietly, if only it'll stop him from looking at them like that. If only he'll stop making their stomach feel queasy in the way that isn't alcohol and whatever is making their head feel all funny. They draw their knees up to their chest and look up at him with a pout, as if they aren't feeling dazed and funny. Like their arms don't feel like jelly.

He looks at them with that expression again, and they want to crawl inside themselves.

"No, it isn't fine." His voice is flat. Dark. They think they could die of consumption or attrition or one of those painful old timey diseases with funny names. "You don't even know how you got here, do you."

It isn't a question. They open their mouth to protest the accusation, but it isn't an accusation and it isn't a question and they just gape. Blink. Look down at their knees and nod quietly like a thoroughly chastised child.

Yone says something and they know they should be listening, but the blood is rushing to their head and it's loud and there's something about the way he looks, face all red and not at all how they expected him to look that makes a sob well up from deep under their chest. The thing inside them that wants to cry, starts to cry, but he doesn't let up. Not until he's run out of steam and his chest is heaving and they can't hear him over the someone who's crying who isn't them.

(It is them, they realise with a start).

"Yeah? Well you can't just run around and tell me what to do like you're my goddamn father, Yone. You can't- You can't- You-" and the bravery fizzles as quickly as it had appeared, born out of defiance and only as much air as they can hold in their lungs because they're blubbering again and they know they shouldn't. Fuck him for yelling at them, what the fuck! They're a fucking adult and they can damn well do as they please!

"Don't you understand? I was fucking worried!"

Oh.

Somehow that cuts through all the thoughts; all the 'fuck you's and all the 'damn you to hell's and all the 'I'm a fucking adult stop treating me like a kid (I want to kiss you, why won't you look at me the way I want you to)'s.

They're a lost child when they look at him again, eyes all red-rimmed and puffy and they know it'll be a hell lot of cucumbers to make the swelling go down. But they look at him. Really, really look at him and that's when they notice the way his brows furrow and there's something that looks like tears in the corners of his eyes and he's shaking the way a man yelling at someone who's more than a little drunk shouldn't be.

Oh.

"'m sorry," they mumble into their knees, afraid that they'll cry if they look at him looking like that. Like he might shatter if they move from where they are. Like he might shatter if they reach out and touch him, because they're fine (they think), and they know he just wants to protect them.

(He's always protected them, they think. Even when they were just a little doll for their mother to dress in pink and even when they grew up and skidded their knees and chased horses in the paddock to see if they'd fight back).

"You think you're so fucking untouchable, but what the fuck do you think will happen when some bastard gets their hands on you?" And Yone's chest is heaving and his breaths are distressingly quick and they know the feeling because they were there just moments ago and something primal inside them can't stand to see him like that, because their legs are all jelly but they still manage to reach over and hold his hand.

Yone's hand is oh so gentle on their cheek, rubbing familiar little circles on their cheek like they're still kids and like they're still crying (they still are, they realise with a hiccup. But that doesn't matter because Yone is crying and they can't stand to see him like that).

Suddenly, he leans over them, then against them, sagging like all his strings have been cut and it's alarming for more reasons than the mere fact he is both taller and bigger than they. He's always been untouchable; the one to stand between them and the world and here he is, sobbing into their shoulder because they fucked up and they can't comprehend what they fucked up.

The other, more immediate reason is because their legs won't obey them and they think they feel their tailbone crack when they fall into an ungainly heap of limbs and snot and tears. But it's more comfortable like this, because they can run their fingers through his hair and kiss the top of his head and his arms wrap around them, holding them close, and they don't understand why, but it's warm and they've always wanted this - always, always, always - just... not like this.

(They are reminded, rather rudely, that they definitely stink of alcohol and vomit).

"Can you... tell me what happened?"

"You don't remember?"

That much is obvious, but they bite their tongue. Shake their head instead. They think they've worked it out - from the drink and the way nothing really makes sense in their head, except the way they love him; have always loved him. Maybe that's what's keeping all their thoughts together, because they think (they know) that they could be sitting in their own sick, staring at the fluorescent lighting, and not even know.

(They realise, that was precisely what they'd been doing. They think they remember being hauled up over a shoulder. They don't remember who brought them here).

Yone sighs, and he ages two decades again. Maybe three, this time.

"Let's talk when you're sober."

"Okay," they say, because their thoughts are fleeting, except the one that urges them to keep touching him. His hair feels nice under their hands - they hadn't really noticed how long it'd gotten before, and he's warm and solid under their hands, too.

They rest their head against his shoulder, feeling soft and boneless. But he's warm and he's safe and he'd stopped crying at some point. That's good. It aches something terrible when he's upset. Almost as much as it aches when they see him with his girlfriend, except they know she's probably better for him anyway, and they know they should lock up their love for him all neat and tidy.

They were never all that good at neat and tidy.

~~~

When they wake up, the sunlight is golden against Yone's skin and they smell suspiciously nice (like that cologne he likes - the one that smells like pines and something deep they don't know the name of). They're pressed against something warm. Something that breathes deep and that's when they dare lift their eyes and oh. He's so lovely. Doesn't he know how lovely he is?

Of course he does, but it's unfair that they're not allowed to tell him too! That he looks so beautiful - he's beautiful in the golden dawnlight, and he's beautiful when the sun is up high and he's even beautiful under unflattering fluorescent lights, when he cries because they did something stupid.

And maybe it's the alcohol that makes them stupid, because they lean forward and kiss his temple (somewhere safe, so that even if he wakes-)

Yone wakes and their heart feels like it's stopped.

Except he just smiles and the arm wrapped oh so comfortably around them pulls them closer and they can't help but breathe in deep. He smells so good. He smells like home, and love, and all of those sappy, soppy feelings that keep leaking between their fingers whenever they try to catch them and stop them from leaking everywhere.

Because they're leaking now. They're definitely leaking now, when they want it to stop, because they let themselves kiss him and it was just a chaste, little thing, like they're kids again, except they want to kiss him again and again and again and they're not allowed to.

Because he loves someone else and they can't even bring themselves to call her a bitch when they're crying.

"Oh Bikmui..." he hushes them gently wipes the tears from their cheeks with practiced kindness. Practiced. They remind themselves, he has always taken care of him, even when they were dumb kids who dared each other to run across a river and see if they'd slip (okay - they were the one doing the daring. And Yone was the one holding out his hand in case they slipped).

It means nothing to him, they tell themselves, and the soft little feeling inside them withers a little.

"What's wrong?"

They shake their head and keep their lips stubbornly pressed shut, because if they let themselves cry, that little lockbox they carefully poured every little bit of affection into will overflow and they've already cried once in front of him and they really can't do it again.

His hand is so warm on their cheek that their eyes close and they lean into the feeling. Somehow, it warms them deep inside, like hot tea on a cold night, except it's morning and he's beautiful with the morning light in his hair and that gentle look on his face like he would piece each part of them together with gold and glue and love them forever.

It's just delusion, they know.

It's just a fantasy.

"Please? Let me help?"

Their face crumples and they really need to get out of the habit of crying in front of him because they hate how they look, and they hate how Yone looks at them after, like they're fragile and he's picking up the pieces. They don't want to be shattered in front of him! They want to be strong! They want to be untouchable, so he'll never know the gross squirmy little butterflies inside them and the warmth that he alone lights and the want, the want, the want.

The want to ruin him. They want to be ruined. The want to love him and hold him so gently that he'll never shatter like them. They want to watch as every piece of him shatters; each soft shard for them to pick up and love and examine; put him together because he's perfect and tell him they love him, whether he's shattered or not.

"You can't." Their voice breaks at the finish line and they press their face, gross with tears and snot and feelings, against him because at least he can't look at them like this. Or, at least they can't see him looking at them.

His hands card through their hair like theirs had, last night. Plucks apart the braid he must have put their hair in, and gently plaits it again as they quietly cry into his shirt. Yone's voice is a gentle hum, a soft tune that they've memorised by heart because it's the song they wrote together when they were younger and they thought they'd conquer the world together, before his stupid girlfriend and their stupid whoring and they think they know what happened (bits and pieces come back to them; a fragmented shadow puppet show).

"That's never stopped me before. Can you tell me, please?" They taste the sick rising up their throat, not because they're sick, and not because he's offering, but because they've made him worry again. They can't do anything right, can they? They couldn't love him right and now they can't even keep away right.

"You'll hate me." Their voice becomes pitchy. Breathless. Desperate.

"I could never hate you."

They shake their head. He'll hate them if they say it, he just doesn't know it yet, because he doesn't know about the locked box inside them, where they pour every little bit of devotion. Every little touch, every little memory, every time he's ever looked at them or laughed at them or spoke to them. They looked at him a little too long yesterday, and they know because they've committed it to memory - the devastating way he looked right before he cried, and the way their heart broke in the aftermath.

"But I love you," they admit, defeated, and it's so soft they aren't even sure they said it. It's even more devastating, set out in the open.

There is silence in the aftermath and they know they've fucked up because he's gone quiet like he's angry at them and he should be angry at them, because he has a girlfriend and they've been sleeping around trying to forget him and they fought yesterday and it's still raw, even though they don't really remember yesterday. And their heart aches and they squirm from him before he can yell at them again, because everything aches, but especially their heart, and they'd like to cut it out now, please and thank you very much. Even a butter knife will do.

Except he doesn't yell at them or push them away. He's pulling them closer, actually, and there's that breathless laugh that they love to hear, but they don't understand how or why, because they said that thing they shouldn't say and he didn't get mad at them.

"Oh... you're a dumbass, you know?"

"I know." It hurts. Why can't he just let them go? Of course he's laughing at them, it's such a stupid thing to do, to fall in love and to admit it after putting everything into that stupid little box inside of them. It aches so deep they think they'll never be rid of it. Isn't that why they started?

"No, you- oh, honey," he says, and his hand is on their cheek and he won't let them look away, except his cheeks are all red and there's a grin on his face and they don't understa-

Yone's lips are soft.

Yone's lips are soft and he smells like watermelon chapstick and they want to know what he tastes like, too, except the kiss ends as abruptly as it began and they just stare at him like they've really lost all their brain cells. And he laughs in that breathless, endeared way that makes their chest go all warm and fuzzy and they'd be disgusted, except he kissed them.

He kissed them.

He kissed them.

What the fuck.

"What the fuck."

And he laughs. Laughs! And it's unfair because he sounds so good when he laughs, like, bells or something, they don't know! He just sounds so happy and they want to soak in it; hope they'll always feel like that so they can get high on the second hand joy that seeps deep into them, all warm and honey-like.

And he's kissing them again, soft lips and soft breaths and they still don't really understand and maybe they're asleep but they're not a kid anymore and they don't really get why they're dreaming of this again and they think that, at the very least, they deserve to dream of his hand going lower. You know. If they're going to be delusional and everything.

His forehead is hard against theirs and his hands are warm against their cheek and he feels real, so they cautiously reach out and put a hand on his shirt, like it'll somehow make him more real. More physical. Less the thing that makes them all breathless and unreal, you know?

And they're unmoored because he kissed them and he held them and they don't know how they're going to be normal after that. How do you live your life, knowing that the person you've always adored finally fucking kissed you, easy as fucking that, and now you'll have to go and live knowing he has his stupid girlfriend to go home to and you'd rather stare at fluorescent lights like they're the fucking moon, maybe jump off the fucking moon, even, because he's broken something inside of you that might have been sacred if you were younger, but now it just aches and aches and aches and he touched it and it aches.

The heels of their palm dig viciously against their eyes because maybe if they gouge them out, they can't cry anymore. Maybe they'll finally be drained and he'll let them go and they'll be fine.

Except his hands are that familiar kind-gentle-warm as he plucks their hands from their face and he's kissing them again and they really don't understand where he gets off being such a dick because they finally opened that stupid lockbox of theirs and he's just laughing at them, like, really.

Finally brave, they snarl, all wild and cornered as they push him back, and that dazed-happy-soft look in his eyes goes all shocked and they don't understand because it's fucking unfair, the way he looks at them like that. They want to lick whatever wound they've inflicted and they want to apologise and they want to tell him, they didn't mean it, except if they do that, he might keep kissing them and then there really will be nothing left of them.

"Oh baby love," he sighs; holds them like they're not pinning him down with shaking hand and the feral wildness of self-preservation. "I've always loved you."

The world shatters, except not the way it shatters on television when someone throws something at the screen. It shatters the way someone shatters glass for a mosaic - all careful and precise and they might be a mosaic, because he's breaking them but those long, lovely fingers of his are putting them back together all gentle and precise.

"Say it again."

"I love you."

Their face heats.

"Again."

"I love you."

He's looking at them, all fond and warm and soft and all those things they've denied themselves because they don't deserve them. They ran off with a thousand men and a thousand women and he found some perfect girlfriend for himself and now he's here, holding their hip, drawing familiar little circles like they're kids and they've done something stupid again.

And he's here, and he's looking at them like that, and they want to cry.

"Again."

They bury their face in the crook of his shoulder because then, at least, they won't have to acknowledge how red their face is and the way the blood is rushing to their face so hard they can hear it in their ears.

"I'll tell you as many times as you want. I love you."

And his hand is a familiar, gentle weight on the back of their head, and their tears burn bright and hot on their face, and he's holding them like they're the most precious thing in the world. Like they're made of the first dew on a spring petal; like they're the sweetest cup of ambrosia; like they'll whisper away if he holds them too rough.

(Maybe they will, just up and die just like that because there's no way he means any of it. No way at all, because he still has a girlfriend and they've loved him forever and he can't understand just how much they've always wanted him to just see them, all bright and sunny the way he looks) (except then he looks at them with that terribly fond smile that seems to be a recurring theme today and their heart lets them think that maybe, just maybe, they'll get a chance after all) (fuck her anyway).

"Since when?" And it sounds more accusatory than they mean, but less than they feel, because he let them drown. He let them drown and drown and drown and drown and drown and never said a damned thing because he's stupid and he's silly and he's their's and they want to kiss him as much as they want to punch him right now (they would never, but the though eases their racing mind just a little).

"Since forever. Since we were kids. Since that promise. Since before then."

Stupid, stupid, stupid Yone! Their hand is a floppy, half-hearted punch to his shoulder and they don't bother to look up because they'll cry because he went and found a girlfriend and let them drown and never bothered to ask!

"You're stupid," they say, between sniffles and long, ugly sniffs to keep the snot from ruining his shirt any more.

"I know," he says.

"Really, really stupid," they insist.

"I know," he says, softer. His hand is a comfort against the back of their head and they find themselves whining because they've missed this. They've missed him. They've missed the nearness and the touching and the not being scared that he'll get tired of them.

They've missed the not being scared he'll one day look at them the way everyone else looks at them - stupid and used and better off dead.

But when they find the bravery to look at him, his face is all soft and fond and they can see all the squishy, warm feelings inside him because he's left them all on his face for everyone to see. Except no one else can see, because dawn's just breaking and they're alone in his room and this is the face that he makes, just for them.

And it's just for them.

"Say it again," they say softly, finally dragging themselves up by the forearms to breathe against his lips and look into his eyes. They feel him dragging them down beneath him and they let him, because they'd be soft and pliant for him, forever and ever and they'd never make him ask. They'd be marshmallows and honey and warm, sweet tea, forever and ever if only he'd stay. Oh, please stay.

"I love you, sweet love," he sighs against their lips. He doesn't smell like watermelon chapstick this time, and it's somehow better, because it's all just him, him, him, and everything they've ever, ever wanted. And maybe it should be more gross than it feels, because neither have brushed their teeth, but some part of them thinks they could do this forever.

Some part of them knows.

"You're still really stupid," they announce, as they lay beneath the warm blanket and his warm weight. "But you love me, so maybe you're a little less stupid."

He laughs, all soft and fond and warm and the squishy, gross feelings don't force themselves into that lockbox inside them (the lock's smashed open, anyway) and it doesn't feel like dying every time they look at him and it doesn't feel like dying every time they hear his breathy laugh and it doesn't feel like dying, where he's holding their hand.

It doesn't feel like dying.

"We still have to talk," they say, brows knitting all dramatic, because they can be an adult, too.

"About last night?"

"And other things."

"And other things," he agrees, all too reasonably.

"And you can't be stupid again."

"Okay, baby love," he says, and kisses them again.

[thatdeadaquarius]

Hello there, friend I'm here for fluff

OK, this has been on my mind for a while

But like

The reader is just becoming the biggest parent to the Benny's adventure team kids

And the wolfs

We are like a parent of like 27

Knitting and making food brushing razors hair(let's be for real, you would hear a crunch when you brush it)

I'm not gonna lie

Do these kids know what spices are?

Cuz when I think about it

Razor hasn't had shit so he's has the least tolerance for spice

He would probably cry if you feed him a pepper

Bennett has tried spicy food but does go well with it

And not completely sure if fischl has had a spicy food before

But what flavor does mondstadt add to their food??

These kids need the damn flavors

AHDHAKALL FERAL ANIMAL AQUARIUS- ANOTHER PLATONIC ASK AAHHHHGGGGDJJSFHSAK!!!!!

AND ITS YOU!! ITS- ITS- ONE OF THE WRITING RULERS OF SAGAU (FOR ME AT LEAST) <3 !!!!!!!!

You cooking in genshin all anime studio ghibli style looking like food from god (literally): ⬆️

Sun: Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish

Stars: Benny’s Adventure Team! (Bennett, Fischl, Razor), Diluc, mentions of other Mond characters

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: mild cussing, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

☆

^^ The posts being referenced in ask, (OG Razor ask) (Benny + Razor) and a more direct sequel, a part 2? a part 4 atp?? of this post (Imposter/Not Dark AU + Razor + Diluc) ^^

OMFG

ALRIGHT LISTEN UP BITCHES

SINCE UR IN TEYVAT

YOU GONNA COOK LIKE TEYVAT

AS IN-

SHIT BE SUPER EASY TO COOK, AND MASS MAKE DEPENDING ON COMPLEXITY OF DISH

(So, like Zhongli's special Bamboo Shoot Soup is like getting made... once a year if you read the little desc. for that dish 💀)

AND THEYRE ALL LIKE-

ANIME GORGEOUS FOODS ✨️❤️‍🔥

OKAY SO

PROMO TIME-

U GUYS HAVE TO WATCH THE ANIME "CAMPFIRE COOKING IN ANOTHER WORLD"

Bc that's mostly where this inspo gonna come from to both be realistic cooking + best parts of video game cooking

A guy gets isekai’d and instead of hero powers he just gets the skill of "online grocery shopping" LMAO

and ofc he gets insta gifted whatever he orders and starts making dishes and adding spices and regular stuff you know. like soy sauce.

but the best part is the food in that world is like British medieval soup shit

like barely salted, no spices definitely, no sauces, its barren

so he ends up attracting all kinds of interest that want to eat his cooking ofc

And it gives buffs too!

dw i didnt spoil anything u don't learn in the first episode, but that's just to say that's exactly whats happening here

u DO have to manually collect more ingredients but its so worth it, also u can just buy in bulk or put a commission thru the adventurer guild

tbhhh now that i say that, that could be how u end up drawing in Benny’s Adventure Team even more, bc they just take all ur quests for collecting ingredients around Mond!!

(u have to actively sneak behind their back and whisper to Katheryne that you want to put in other food quests in other guilds tho, silly kids will absolutely go running around Liyue and crazy shit just to have an adventure and do smth for you + eat ur banger food lol)

omfg the first time u barbecue smth???

the wolves, Razor, and Andrius??? Go feral.

Fischl and Benny who were already on their way to u guys to hang out again start booking it thru the woods, dodging hilichurl camps (thatve since settled down and been v peaceful to the wolves + anyone in the woods of Wolvendom after u started living there)

they knowww ur cookin smth fucking amazing

(and u even have some hilichurls and mitachurl that wander close to Andrius’ edge of the woods to shyly beg for scraps,, u give them a portion)

Razor was actually lookin at u like u hung the stars just for him when u gave him a homemade barbecue sauce to put on his food

(u acc may have done that to Teyvatians according to Andrius + the stories u overheard from Springvale…)

ok but the amount of begging u get for desserts like-

No, Razor u cannot have chocolate cake/cupcakes after every meal, u need to take care of ur teeth

(u use ur collection of mora-monster-donations for comms for more ingredients and living supplies like fabric + furniture, u cant afford dental on top of that for ur boy)

Fischl dutifully declares you the “best chef in the kingdom” and writes down all ur recipes (u have them auto-stored in ur settings obv but it cant hurt to have a physical copy, and they look so happy doing it, u don't have the heart to tell them its not necessary-)

Benny insists on both giving u extra ingredients when he takes ur commissions, and giving u handmade trinkets or weapons for the meals!!

No!! He will not take “im good” for an answer!! ur sharing ur home-cave with him, taking care of his best friend Razor, and now feeding him food better than Liuli Pavilion!!! There’s no way he can just take all that and give nothing back!!!!

and theyre not the only ones getting some food tbh

when the knights begin patroling near Wolvendom and slowly all of Mondstadt to search for their “All God”, u break up the beginnings of a fight between 2 confused knights and the now peaceful hilichurl camp at the edge of Wolvendom

U offer some snacks u were going to give Benny’s Adventure Team when they got back (u made little triangle sandwiches, rice balls, etc. finger foods, and u made plenty extra bc u kno their teenage appetites lol)

the knights and hilichurls nearly cried with appreciation, which made for a hilarious sight when the teens actually showed up lmao

ur wearing ur cloak, bc u dont wanna take on that whole “creator of worlds” title just yet, and the kids helped verify u werent anyone suspicious (Benny + Fischl keep ur godly secret, theyre the best like that 🥰)

the knights just swing by for snacks occasionally (they also either pay u in trade or with mora, theyre not bullies)

another person who gets flavored food privileges is the lazy librarian witch herself

u also sometimes pick Razor up from Lisa’s tutoring and bring “the best tea and tea snacks in the world” along with to share with Lisa and him

(she is also fully aware after awhile of meeting u of what u are, and fully believes this is why the food must be enchanted to be so good, but u dont want to be treated super reverently she can tell, so she keeps ur secret too and is just extra flirty when u come by lol)

(Razor refuses to let his pare- Lupical move out of ur cozy cave to the library, so he sometimes hauls u away when Lisa flirts too much LMAO)

…and the moment you've been waiting for.

Yes, Diluc got to try ur food that night he was searching Wolvendom for signs of the god of Teyvat

tbh Diluc was half-convinced that shit was a fever dream.

a bunch of sleepy wolves, a coffee table in the stone colosseum, a giant spirit wolf licking a big plate clean, the wolf-kid glaring at him, and you.

you with gold eyes, staring right thru his soul, like you already know everything there is to know about him, (like the way Kaeya looked at him that night),

like he doesnt even have to introduce himself

and he doesnt, u just lightly smack Razor’s hands until he gets rid of his claymore w/a pout, since Diluc had long since dropped his,

and grab a plate, piling on what leftovers u could, and turn back around from the coffee table to smile at him, patting the cushion-seat beside u for him to join

The giant glowing wolf licks his lips and watches him, the wolf-kid’s creepily watches him, and you, with eyes gold in teh light of a simmering bonfire just past the table, watch him

he just sits down and begins to eat.

its the best food he’s ever had, its his dad’s favorite dish, but not realistically, but the way memory embellishes a dish so much it can never be tasted again, except its right here. in front of him. u pour some wolfhook juice for him, and offer him a napkin to wipe his mouth and eyes

Diluc visits often after that, obviously.

u give him snacks too, and when he lets the staff try some, Adeline will not stop harassing him abt gettin ur recipes/ingredeints so u get him to pay Fischl to get a copy of their recipe book :)

including blank pages for future entries, and Fischl is literally glowing with happiness, would not stop monologuing abt ur food for weeks (send help Oz wants some peace and quiet sometimes)

Oh Diluc absolutely told the Favonius knights he found you. But he’s not saying where LMAO

Jean is actually begging him, Diluc ik u hate the knights but this is an international investigation-

this is the closest Diluc has ever gotten to getting under Venti’s skin.

when he told him this at Angel’s while bartending, he just casually ofc said this, just his smug little smirk, and the anemo god cracked a glass and everything- esp when he said he tried ur cooking??

he's gotta start looking over his shoulder in the city bc not only is Venti stalking him, the entirety of Mondstadt’s citizens are glaring at him in envy everywhere he goes LMAOO

(Venti now has a bar glass or too on his tab to pay off as well)

mans is literally paying u in weapon/artifact materials/mora to make him lunch one day and Venti nearly lunges over the counter

(Diluc purposefully ate it in front of him 💀)

ur food is the ultimate, “u could make a religion out of this!” /ref

like Diluc fully gives u offerings of ingredients he can pay for shipping from other countries + along with regular materials after grinding in domains

does the rest of Mondstadt + the world find out where u are?

only if Diluc lets them tbh. LMFAO

☆

bk trashfire my beloved <3 love ur ideas and stuff, goes without even saying im so sorry i took actually forever to respond :’(

hope u have a great weekend and i did this little side story justice for you

Safe Travels BK Trashfire,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡my beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit / @chinuneko / @silvers-tongue

@kiyomi-uchiha777

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ every week is fashion week ]❜

ft. wade wilson x gn! reader — marvel

╰₊✧ playing dress to impress with deadpool┊0.6k words

contains: wade being wade and probably ooc because he’s a bitch to write for

➤ author's note: gaming with him could fix me honestly

╰₊✧ when you hear him yelling and swearing insults like a sailor, you assume that he was playing some sort of rage game or a first-person shooter that he sucked at, but when you enter his room to see what all the commotion is about, you’ll see him hunched over on his ipad playing roblox like a child. the moment he sees you, he’s going to force you to download the app if you didn’t have it already and have you duo with him to have cute matching couple outfits.

╰₊✧ he knows nearly every code that’s active, has vip unlocked, and theorizes about the story behind it all like the lore whore he is. it sounds crazy to you how such a dress-up game could contain little details about a doppelganger replacing the nail tech, a mysterious organization, and something called the “flesh room, but you suppose that every generation needs to have an innocent-looking media hiding dark secrets.

╰₊✧ speaking of generations, you’re a hundred percent sure he’s too old to be playing this game and the way he bullies other players who are likely children makes you think that he was a regina george equivalent back in the day. he claims you only think that because he’s a harsh critic who rarely gives out anything higher than three stars, but it’s clear that he forgets that it’s a game for kids and gets carried away often.

“what the hell is that?! that’s not 2000s, that’s 2010s, dumbass!”

“babe, i’m pretty sure that they weren’t even born yet in the 2000s.”

“whatever, it’s still the ugliest fucking skirt i’ve ever seen.”

╰₊✧ he’s super competitive and petty with a capital “p,” strutting his model around to scope out the competition and singing a little improvised song under his breath along with the background music (some crazy stuff comes out of his mouth, things that make you whip your head around to stare at him while he acts like he didn’t just say the wildest shit for the sake of a rhyme). every round is like a different episode of reality television, and wade is constantly beefing with other contestants like it’s high school again.

“ooh, she ate.”

“...really?”

“yeah, she ‘ate’... OFF MY PLATE! THIS BITCH IS COPYING ME!”

╰₊✧ because his fashion sense is impeccable and his creativity is off the charts, he gets copied a lot and he will walk up to them to confront them about it. if they try to walk away or insist they aren’t, he’ll menacingly follow them around with a bloodlust that somehow permeates the screen until they finally change. you need to remind him to stop scaring the children, yet he never listens because it’s not like they can hear him roasting them on an open fire anyway.

╰₊✧ he always lands in the top five and carries you when doing duos because you refuse to spend a cent on roblox, but he can get pretty pissy when an outfit (or player) he didn’t like places higher than him. every time he quits and puts down his tablet to do something else, you’ll find him playing again with his feet in the air swinging like a teen girl writing in their diary about their crush an hour later. you’ll also hear him trying to convince logan to play with him too, although he’ll never be successful in this lifetime.

╰₊✧ gives an extra star to anyone coming out on the runway who forgot or didn’t have enough time to pick out a hairstyle in “bald solidarity”

╰₊✧ his favorite pose is pose 28, referencing the meme of “pussy facing the word” as his reasoning because of course it is.

[morganitering]

Because I'm the Weakest II: The Women Who Never Won

Pairings/character dynamics: Satosugu, Shoko and reader, Nanami and reader, implied shoko x utahime

Contains and warnings: DARK FIC/DEAD DOVE fem!reader, Suicidal ideation, rape aftermath, referenced rape (not written out in this chap), depression, alcohol abuse, misogyny & sexism, internalized sexism, sexual harassment on minors done by minors, victim blaming (thoughts), self harm, angst, hurt & comfort, I call noncon with the official word for it

Word count: ~9,6k

Summary: There's certain desperation when you try to keep your head above water. You were drowning and all you wanted to do was to forget, the weight on your shoulders unbearable. Despite the cards you were dealt with you found yourself among allies as the web of untold memories started to unfold.

A/N: Hey! Yall waited long for this, sorry about that. I have no idea how to tag this but I'll just do it somehow, bc this is a tricky chapter. Here yall get to dive deeper in the stuff that has gone down before the events that took place in 1st chap and get a hug from Shoko. This is hopefully the last installment of this. Read the tags carefully as always and make informed decisions based on that and take care of yourself. Shit can get heavy, but I'm trying to do this in good taste.

Read on ao3 part I

Shoko Ieiri had worked a long time with people who suffered. She had seen it all, limbs cut off, even the toughest of sorcerers reduced to crying messes as they practically had their innards falling to the floor. There’s something utterly horrifying watching a patient, no – a friend scream in pain when even her skills were not enough. Funerals came and went, the white sheet thrown over the deceased on the operation table in the same routine way she’d change her linens. Nothing really shocked her. 

That’s what she liked to think. 

Your visits have been more frequent. It started with bruises and sprained ankles. Then it was broken bones that soon turned to puncture wounds, your clothes sticky with deep red and dirt. When she asked about it, you laughed it off saying it’s nothing, just a silly little mishap, “I was too reckless in the heat of the moment.”  But your eyes were empty, your words hollow like a dead tree. Of course Shoko did her job, without asking too much. You’re an adult and you’ll speak about it if you want to, right? Her job was to keep you alive. Your job was to exorcise curses. 

Shoko and you had been close too, hanging out with the two men, but at some point in high school she had withdrawn from the group. Gojo and Geto had tried to keep in touch with her in adulthood, inviting her as well to spend time together as the four of them, but she had always declined, smoothly changing their relationship to acquaintances at best. She heard enough of the despicable men from you. The only times she was in direct contact with Gojo and Geto was work related and god how she hoped that it would stay that way. She’ll play that pretend game almost happily. 

Shoko closed the office door the day turning to evening, sundown coloring the city in hues of orange and yellow. She held onto her little black purse, thankfully it was friday. A man stood on the long corridor, standing upright as if he did not belong here. He looked indifferent, almost bored.

“Nanami.” 

“Ieiri.” 

They greeted each other with a curt nod. 

“So what brings you here? You seem healthy enough,” Shoko asked as they walked to the open parking lot, only a few cars in sight. The warm summer sun caressed her cheeks, wind making her long hair flow in waves.

“I think she’s going through something,” Nanami stated as a matter of fact talking about you. He and you had gone on missions together, but something about you wasn’t right. He had seen the way you clutch your weapon, throw yourself at the enemy recklessly almost as if you had a death wish. It’s like you waited for your end. 

“No shit.” Shoko chuckled amused. It was as clear as a day if you just had eyes on yourself. “Why do you care?” 

“I’ve seen enough people spiral to know where it leads. You’re a healer, can’t you help?” His voice was thoughtful, not betraying a hint of emotions. 

“I can’t help a person who doesn’t want it,” Shoko said. “But I’ll try to figure something out.” 

“And that is enough. Thank you.” 

***

You hated meetings and rarely took part in them if you could avoid them. You had not met Gojo or Geto after the unfortunate night. If there were some work related things where there was a possibility to meet either of the men, you requested to be part of them remotely or that someone would just forward the key points. But after doing this for a few months Yaga had sent you a passive-aggressive email writing that it is absolutely mandatory for you to show yourself at least once in a while. You didn’t bother to answer him with anything other than a polite see you there.

Honestly you were tired. Your whole body ached in overexertion. Sleep escaped from you, ran a marathon around the block never stopping at your house, and every time you seemed to catch a break, hazy images you rather forbid being real filled your vision. Your eyebags told a story of exhaustion, your body shrinking in every possible way away. You went to see a doctor, not Shoko, just some normal practitioner from the private sector that you ended up paying yourself sick for. 

The doctor gave you pills to help you with sleep. He asked you if you were stressed or going through some sorts of crisis. You answered with a diligent no and explained that you’ve always had issues with sleep, but you were otherwise okay. He looked at you, raising his eyebrow in suspicion, the glasses on his head hung on his nose by a thread. He decided to believe you as he wrote the prescription, but insisted you took home pamphlets about depression and crisis hotlines. 

You tried the pills. You did fall asleep, but only after a panic attack wrecked through your body as the effect of the medication forced you into a deep slumber. The pills made you feel your pulse in your whole body. “It’s a quite strong product, previously used to treat psychosis, but nowadays it’s for patients with severe insomnia. Take it one hour before sleep. The effect might be really sudden.”  

When you woke up you decided to throw them away. It’s better to not to sleep if it meant that you’d go free from the horrors of the night you had experienced. 

The huge meeting table sprawled out horizontally and was able to sit around fifteen people in it. It had several small electric outlets for computers and tablets. Light poured in from the big windows, the blinds only halfway done. You stared at the weird scribbling on the white board that Principal Yaga was wiping furiously, muttering things about how students shouldn’t be let in this room under any circumstance since they can’t differentiate which markers are okay to use on it. 

You exchanged pleasantries with him. The room was devoid of people since you were too early. You swung your leather bag on the back of the upholstered office chair and sat yourself down.

Shoko walked in and her face lit up a little bit when she saw you sitting there. It was subtle, you thought that you were maybe the only one who could differentiate that expression from her. She sat next to you, a faint hint of neroli wrapping you to its calming aroma. 

Next came Meimei and then Utahime who came running to you two giving a happy hug to Shoko. They were so cute together, you thought to yourself as you fidgeted with your slightly too big shoes, constantly removing them and pushing them back to your feet. People don’t usually like small talk, but nonetheless the group chatted with each other. They had to, because it’s polite and you were coworkers. You thought that small talk was easy. The script of it was burnt to your brains for the rest of your life. You get to keep people at an arm's length and keep up appearances, so what’s there not to like? 

A familiar blonde man stood in the doorway. You checked your phone for the time. Only five minutes before the official start. Yuki also appeared after Nanami.  

“Hello,” he said and nodded at you as he sat himself next to you. Your whole body stiffened around him. It was hard to look him in the eyes and even harder to work missions with.

It was ten minutes past the official time when the meeting was supposed to start. 

“Sorry we are late.” Two men marched in the room with confident strides and took their place in front of you facing you, that was sitting in between Nanami and Shoko, Utahime next to the doctor. Suguru sat down next to Yuki leaving a space for Satoru who had Meimei next to him. 

Hearing Suguru’s voice made your skin crawl. 

“It’s fine,” Yaga said and looked over his shoulder to look at the white screen he had pulled down earlier with only a blue screen reflecting on the fabric. “I can’t seem to get this work anyway,” he mumbled. 

“Do you need help?” Suguru walked over to the man struggling over his laptop. “Have you checked the HDMI-cable?” 

“Of course I have, I just don’t understand why it won't work. We have Ijichi remote today,” he muttered partially to himself.  

“Let me.” 

You sat fidgeting on your chair focusing on everything else than the two men and their presence that suffocated you. If you were a candle they’d be snuffing you out but not properly, no, that would be too kind. They’d always let enough air in so that you’d never be completely put out. 

“Hello to you girls.. and Nanami,” Satoru flashed a playful grin at the four of you. Your head jerked involuntarily to look at the man. Thank god he has a habit of covering his eyes, but somehow that made him even worse. 

“Hello. How are you?” Nanami nodded politely. 

“I’m well. Hopefully the work isn’t stressing you out too much.” Satoru’s smile widened. 

“Speaking of work, I’ve heard that you and her have started doing missions together,” Satoru nudged his head towards you as he spoke directly to Nanami. “I actually green lighted the idea of sorcerers working more together. It’s good to practice teamwork and I put in good words for the two of you, since you compliment each other with the techniques you have. ” Satoru moved his head to look your way as he drew out his words in a way that you’d be sure to catch the dual meaning.

The wall flashed a few times showing the computer screen and it’s default wallpaper for only a moment and after that went back to blue. 

“An idea that I actually can get behind,” Nanami said agreeably. 

Your eye twitched. 

“Really? That was your doing?” You barely hid the anger of your voice. One more push and you’d pour your life savings on an amoral hitman, not that you’d believe that anyone could finish him off. It was a thought just for you so you could at least think about being mean in your own petty way. 

“Not a fan of working in groups of two? How about in groups of three?” 

“You fucking piece of-” 

“Okay I think it’s working now,” Yaga put his hands together straightening himself properly. Suguru walked over to Satoru, slightly shaking his head before he sat down. You heard Utahime’s quiet “okayy..” whispered in the awkward silence. 

“Unfortunately principal Gakuganji wasn’t able to make it today, he’s sick or something.”

You heard Gojo scoff audibly. 

“Try to respect him.” Yaga shot a glare in the young teacher’s way. 

“Ijichi and Nitta have gathered data about the hotspots of cursed activity,” he continued and opened up the window to teams only to be greeted by a tired looking black haired man in a suit. The background behind him was red, it looked like some type of wallpaper and small paintings covered the walls. You reckoned it was a hotel room. Or a motel, you really could not tell. 

“Ijichi, do you hear me? Would you like to take over?” Yaga’s voice boomed louder as if he wasn’t already near his computer. 

The grainy picture of the tired man smiling uncomfortably stayed still a little too long to be taken as a real time reaction to Yaga’s question. 

“I hear you. Sorry, the connection here is a bit bad.” Ijichi’s voice echoed in the office room. The picture of a slideshow appeared on the wall, making Ijichi’s face smaller. 

The map of Tokyo loomed on the wall as everyone stared at it intensely, more or less dozing off. Some parts of it had big red circles on them and Ijichi explained the way these places were having exceptionally heavy activity. He reckoned that partially the rise in activity tied to the sorcerers working more missions together leaving less people available. Ijichi also showed statistics comparing the effectiveness of sorcerers based in Tokyo and Kyoto. 

You were about to lose your mind, your body still pumping adrenaline after the conversation with Gojo. Everyone else seemed to be bored, oblivious to your struggle. Satoru had yawned at least three times in the last ten minutes, Shoko and Utahime were both interested in their nails. Even Suguru looked tired and he was pretty good at hiding his thoughts. The only ones who did not look outwardly dead inside were Yaga and Nanami. 

“Thank you Ijichi for your hard work,” Yaga said and Ijichi nodded smiling. The pop up of the slideshow vanished from the screen leaving Ijichi’s face in a huge resolution looming onto the wall. 

“We are going to take in account the effects of pairing up sorcerers. I’m not entirely in charge of how long this trial will take,” Yaga said. “Ieiri has this trial affected the health care aspect in any way?” 

Shoko cleared her throat tapping open the ipad in front of her, her nails making a satisfying click click sound. 

“The injuries have lessened,” she started. That’s good, you thought. “But the severity has increased,” she said with a serious face.

“Why is that?” Principal scrunched his eyebrows together. 

“In my professional opinion it is due to people being more brazen when having a partner. This can be seen especially in lower grade sorcerers, who are prone to believing that they are invincible when someone backs them up.” Everyone had turned to look at the doctor who played with her hair idly as she spoke. 

“And the second grade and up?”

“It happens less. But there are some, even first grade sorcerers, who are accident prone,” Shoko said and quickly looked at you, not long enough for others to pick up on that she was speaking about you.

Gojo’s phone rang in the middle of the conference. He left the room with an apology and never came back. Relief and anger ignited in you playing tug of war in your heart as your eyes followed him bitterly.

“I think this is all. I’ll send everyone the upcoming jobs, but if no one has anything to say, I think we can conclude this meeting here,” Yaga said, the choir of thank yous and goodbyes filling the room. 

You stretched yourself, happy to be on your feet again. 

“Hey, can we talk?” Nanami tried to get your attention. 

You stood in the room that was quickly emptying out of people. Shoko awkwardly hung around in a small distance from you and Nanami, trying to pretend that she wasn’t listening to your conversation. 

“I don’t entirely understand the conversation between you and Gojo, but if I have somehow disrespected you I offer my deepest apologies.” Nanami’s voice was soft. Your heart ached as you realized how bad your words must have appeared to him. 

“I’m so sorry. It’s not about you. You’ve done nothing..” You trailed off as you saw the tall curse eating man walk outside with a sly smile on his lips.

“That’s a relief but if I may be so blunt, I have a hunch that there is something bothering you,” Nanami said. 

You looked at him and chewed your lower lip nervously. This was all their fault. If they had not done what they did, you would not be in this position. The least they could have done is to keep the names of people you know out of their mouths. 

“I’m sorry to leave you hanging like this, but can we finish this conversation later?” You  hurried past him, only hearing Nanami mumble the word ‘sure’ like a kicked puppy and you said goodbye to Shoko agreeing on staying in touch with her.

The corridor was almost empty as you walked through the school building frantically searching for that bastard of a man. Your footsteps echoed on the wood as you arrived at a not so well known exit of the building. Geto stood in front of the dual doors, half heartedly pushing it open as he furiously wrote something on his phone. 

You yelled out his name, but he did not bother to react to you. You closed in on the man that was still standing back towards you. Anger surged in you as adrenaline made you braver than what you normally would be. You were supposed to just grab the ends of his hair that were sprawled across his back, but in the heat of the moment your impulse control had another lapse as you kept on raising your hand. A fist closed around the bun that had been carefully crafted on his scalp and you dug your fingers around the hair tie and then yanked, hard. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” He turned around stepping out of the doorway letting it close properly with a thump and he closed the distance between you for good. His eyes shot daggers at you. 

“You did not pay attention to me.” You shook your hand out of the spare strands that were stuck on your palm and offered the small hair tie back to him. 

“Well you got it now,” he hissed. “You can keep that as a souvenir. I don’t want anything that a filthy bitch like you has touched,” he said, the calm composure nowhere in sight. 

A filthy bitch? Really? Then maybe you should break up with Satoru if this is your deal breaker.. That’s what you wanted to say, but you held back your tongue. 

Geto took a deep breath, calming himself down, slipping on the mask that you were more used to seeing. He put his phone back in his pocket.

“What do you want?” 

“You told me,” you started, tears threatening to flow over. “You told me that I can just leave and do whatever I want. Why do you keep tormenting me? Why do you let Gojo do what he does?” Your voice broke as you started crying openly. You hated it, it made you weak. No. You were weak. 

“Firstly, I’m not his guardian. He can do what he wants.” He sounded like a smartass. 

“Second of all, never. And I repeat. Never, lay a hand on me ever again, especially on my hair.” You rolled your eyes. 

Of course it was the hair that ticked him off completely. It was his crown, the only thing he had ever been able to take care of besides Satoru. Suguru loved to flaunt himself as the calm one, the kind one, but the exterior had always had some cracks in it. No amount of paint was able to hide the rotten wall behind it. 

“I can forgive your outburst at Satoru’s, but now that you’re in your right mind, you won’t get second chances.” 

“I don’t want ‘second chances’. I want you to leave me the fuck alone so I can do my job,” you yelled at him. 

“Lower your voice. Or do you want to air out all the dirty laundry for everyone?” Geto hushed you. 

“It’s not my ‘laundry’, it’s fucking yours!” You roared and tears fell down your cheeks blurring your vision. Your face felt hot as it got wrapped in the wrath of your words. 

Geto did not answer you, instead he chose to stare you down, not moving at all as if he was a statue. He looked like a child throwing a tantrum when things did not go his way, his face contorting to a sneer that could challenge any rich spoiled brat. You panted and wiped your face with the rough backside of your palm. 

“Move.”

“Ladies first,” he snickered childishly and kicked open the heavy door with his foot as he stepped slightly to the side. God this man hangs out too much with Gojo. 

As you left the school grounds barely holding your breakdown away, there was one figure in the corridors hugging the wall near the exit, clutching onto her purse. 

***

SHOKO’S MEMORIES, 2006

“Truth or dare?” Satoru asked, popping the pink bubblegum in the air, sucking the sticky material back in his mouth to chew on loudly. 

“Truth,” Shoko said, placing another cigarette in her mouth. She smoked especially heavily when she was drinking. 

Satoru had managed to bring a whole six pack of beer to the picnic whereas Suguru had found a travel size vodka bottle from his parents. Shoko had brought a package of different berries and salty crackers with her. 

“If you could have any technique in the world, which one would you have?” Satoru asked. He looked at the clear blue sky and the way the summer breeze pushed on the white clouds. 

Shoko played with the corner of the blanket as she thought deeply about his question. She stared at the shoes she had placed on the grass and the manicure on her toes that Utahime had insisted on putting on her. 

“I think I’d keep this one,” she smiled wistfully. 

“Really? You wouldn’t want my powers?” Satoru looked at her tilting his head to the side. He spat out the chewing gum and placed it on the plastic lid that belonged to the packaging of berries. He did not like it when things ran out of flavor, always searching for something more. 

“No. I don’t envy you at all. I just want a happy life and that’s all” Shoko answered his gaze, with a gentle smile. “Besides, I like the way I am and I suppose I can help people like this,” she added. 

Satoru hummed. He was clearly dissatisfied with the answer. 

He did not exactly know why. 

“Satoru, that's sad. You should ask something fun,” Suguru pointed out and took a sip from the beer can. 

The three of them sat on a grassy hill that had a pretty decent view of the city and the park below it. Shoko leaned against the huge tree behind her back. The cicadas were performing their own concert with the hum of motorways working as their orchestra.  

“You figure out better questions then,” Satoru pouted, but wasn’t actually hurt. 

“Isn’t it my turn to ask though?” 

Shoko looked in the distance watching closely how a woman jogged with her shiba inu, her ponytail swishing in the same rhythm as the chord of her headphones. Both men nodded slightly out of sync. 

“Satoru truth or dare?” 

“Truth.” 

“Who’s the hottest person you know?” Her eyes twinkled teasingly. 

“Waka Inoue of course. She’s sexy as hell!” Satoru slapped his hand on his heart as if he was saluting. 

“Really? You still have a crush on her?” Suguru questioned. It was his turn to pout. “Am I not enough?” 

“Baby you’re plenty, but you can’t replace a huge rack,” Satoru’s voice was steady as if he was talking about the most important thing in the whole world. 

“I can’t argue with that.” Suguru sighed defeatedly, his shoulders slumping down dramatically. 

“Ugh. I shouldn’t have asked that. Both of you are so weird and gross about women,” Shoko grimaced regretting her decisions and lifted the cigarette to her mouth as if to cover the bad taste of Satoru’s words. 

The man in sunglasses ignored the criticizing words. “Suguru. Truth or dare?” 

“Dare.” 

“I dare you to share this,” Satoru lifted up a huge strawberry. “Like in Lady and the Tramp with Shoko,” he referred to the scene where the two dogs shared a spaghetti meal, eventually kissing. 

“That’s too small!” Shoko protested immediately, shaking her head. The idea of doing that with Suguru made her feel iffy. 

“I’m game if she is,” Suguru said and offered his palm to Satoru who plopped the berry in his hands. 

Shoko had a nervous giggle come out of her. 

“C’mon, it’s just a game. You can always let go after like one bite. This is truth or dare afterall,” Satoru coaxed. 

“Fine. But I won’t kiss you, not even a peck.” Shoko established her own rule and rolled her eyes. She put out the cigarette on the grass and left the butt there. 

“We’ll see about that,” Suguru laughed and picked at the stem that got thrown over next to the chewed up gum. 

He awkwardly came closer to the young female student and placed the bigger end between his lips. He looked silly, the red end peeking out of his mouth. Suguru attempted at mouthing the words ‘come closer’, but neither Satoru or Shoko understood his words but the context clue carried the point to Shoko. 

She got on her knees sitting on top of her legs and straightened herself out. Suguru was way taller than her, even when he sat. Her face approached Suguru’s who had a pink tint on his cheeks from the alcohol he had drank.  

She opened her mouth and barely bit down on the smaller end, her tongue touching the bumpy texture of the strawberry. 

“Ready. Set. Go!” Satoru exclaimed, motioning finger guns happily. His gaze was completely glued on his two friends. 

Suguru closed his eyes and he started to carefully nibble, closing dangerously on Shoko’s lips. She bit quickly, not really tasting anything and began to pull away in hopes of Suguru calling it quits too. 

Unfortunately she wasn’t fast enough. The last bits of strawberry fell down on Shoko’s lap when Suguru pressed his lips against hers, a faint red trail dripping on her chin. She didn’t move and her eyes widened in shock. Shoko didn’t know what to do so she just held her hands on her lap. 

Suguru pet gently behind the girl’s head kissing her motionless lips. His hand trailed down to her neck and all the way to her shoulder. Shoko felt the sweet taste in her mouth mixing with the alcohol, stranger’s saliva and nicotine as Suguru dragged his hand to the mound of her breast. The warmth emanating from his palm was enough to bring her back to reality and Shoko pushed the bigger guy off of her. 

“Why did you do that?” she snapped and crossed her arms. 

“Oh don’t get angry now. Have a drink and chill out.” Satoru sighed. He shuffled awkwardly and placed the almost empty tote bag on his lap and grabbed a new beer can from there. Shoko narrowed her eyes in suspicion, but did not want to make room for any weird thoughts that would imply even weirder things. “It’s just a joke.” 

“This is not the first time you take jokes too far.”

Shoko looked away from the two boys, disappointment turning into an ache in her heart and wiped her chin clean from the strawberry. She slipped on the ballerinas laying on the ground. 

“Seriously? You’re leaving because of this?” Suguru tilted his head, his voice defensive.

Shoko threw her cigarettes and lighter in her own purse checking the blanket for other stuff she had. 

“Yeah, I am. I’m not having fun anymore.” Her voice was cold as she was attempting to hide the nervous tremble in her body and almost jumped up throwing the bag on her shoulder. She turned around, once again crossing her hands against her chest as if to protect herself and started walking.

“Hey! Don’t you want your blanket with you?” Satoru yelled after her. The two guys sat on the quilt completely bamboozled. 

“Keep it! I don’t need it!” 

She didn’t eat strawberries for the rest of the summer. 

***

“Hey you really should sing this one!” Shoko laughed as she scrolled through the song list.

“Whaat? No that’s not even funny,” you laughed and slapped her arm gently. 

“Is it really not? Or are you just a bore?” Shoko taunted getting ready to put the song on.

“Can we sing something from this?” You pointed at the category called 2000’s hits. 

“I’ll pick something at random and you’re just going to deal with it,” Shoko laughed clearly tipsy too after the multiple drinks you both had drank. 

The disco ball was spinning around the small room painting the walls in hues of blue, red and green. Nanami sat on the couch nursing his whiskey as he stared off into space. The upbeat music filled the room, bass shaking the ground underneath your feet.

It was the first time going out after the events at Gojo’s house. Shoko had basically begged you to come with her to get shit faced complaining that she really needed someone to rant with. You told her that Utahime was right there and would probably love to listen to her, but she claimed that the woman from Kyoto had other plans for the weekend.

After arriving at the karaoke bar you had been taken back after seeing the stoic blonde man at the venue. You weighed the option of immediately leaving in your head, but your conscience did not allow you to do so, after leaving him so rudely hanging in the meeting. When the three of you had gotten your own private room you decided to immediately order shots and drinks with the only goal of getting absolutely black out drunk tonight despite having Nanami there. 

It was honestly rare to see him after work as he had preferred to keep his distance. He was wearing the same clothing he always wore, dress shirt ironed, necktie perfectly hanging against his chest as if he was on the clock. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he were to whip out a cursed tool onto the bar table. 

You clutched onto the microphone singing unevenly as you danced to the beat, half of the syllables disappearing to you being out of breath. Shoko cackled, almost folding over as she kept slapping her thigh eyes watering. She had drunk a few drinks less than you and she had been exceptionally happy even before drinking. Truthfully Shoko was quite a heavy drinker and she definitely should not have been as wasted as what she appeared to be. 

Nanami stared at the both of you, raising the whiskey glass to his lips after checking his wrist watch. 

“Come here! Sing with us!” You yelled to the mic only getting a slightly alarmed expression out of him as he shook his head.

“I think I’m okay with watching you two perform,” he said. 

You pouted but kept on singing, your concentration skills nonexistent. You did not notice the way Shoko glared at him, nudging her head towards you as she pointed the microphone in her hand towards him. 

Nanami cleared his throat under the threatening gaze and clumsily got up. 

“Oh my god! Nanamiii!” You screamed the noise so high pitched that even the speakers were unable to handle it and you could see how Nanami cringed at the sound. 

Shoko squinted her eyes and mouthed the word sing to Nanami. Shoko was not going to deal with you alone. 

The combination of the pop song and Nanami’s voice made you giggle as you hurrayed him happily. He was not a bad singer by any means, but his voice did not fit the song choice. You wondered to yourself, why had you not gotten shitfaced earlier when you had all the good reasons to. 

Shoko decided to take a small break sitting on the spot where Nanami had been earlier and inspected the brown liquid swishing in the glass. She stole a sip from it when Nanami wasn’t watching, not really caring about the fact that it wasn’t her drink.

You grabbed your drink from the table and drank from it and you kept on singing happily, almost jumping around. Nanami looked at you with a terrified expression when you moved side to side with the drink spilling on your hand, but you did not notice the wetness of it. 

“Hey, put that down before you drop the glass,” Nanami said and gently tried to take the glass from you.

“No, I want to keep this,” a pout formed on your face but you still did what he told and turned around swiftly to place the drink on the counter. Your vision was blurry, the lights slightly too bright and you lost your balance tipping over the glass that was already safely on the table. You felt yourself starting to fall but a strong arm snaked around your waist to stabilize you. 

The world felt like it was stopping when the arm around you changed into a tight rope that pressed around your ribcage. The karaoke room changed inch by inch to a vast room with a wall made of windows with a night view of the streets of Tokyo. The shattered drink turned into a broken light bulb on the floor. You felt a hot breath on your skin, but your body had gotten cold. It was as if you had been dunked into ice water, all the earlier excitement completely vanished. The disco ball spun around casting blue lights on the white haired man’s face that ogled you like a piece of meat. The imagery was so vivid and real in your mind that you reacted on instinct, elbowing the man behind you. 

The rope vanished around you as the windows melted to the concrete floor, the shadows of city lights turned back to the tacky illumination of the disco ball. You felt the remnants of cursed energy fizzing out like a soda can as your eyes landed on Nanami, who was slightly hunched over holding onto his side the pain making him grimace. You had no idea how much force you had actually used, but probably quite a lot judging by the way Nanami was reacting. 

Shoko stood there completely still, eyes filled to the brim with worry and confusion. Her lips were ajar and she gulped down wanting to say something, but she did not know what. 

“My apologies. I didn't mean to touch you inappropriately,” Nanami managed to say. The music track played in the background, but it felt empty without a drunken voice guiding it. He was lucky to have good reflexes, instinctually protecting himself from the blow, otherwise Shoko would have had a patient off the clock. 

“Uh,” Your mouth gaped at him hopelessly. He had done nothing wrong. 

“I’ll go for a cigarette,” you blurted out and left the room hurriedly. The long hallway stretched in front of your eyes as you looked at the numbers on karaoke booths, only muted colors flashing through the slightly translucent doors. You leaned on the wall as you dragged your feet forward arriving at the front desk that thanked you for your time, but you did not pay attention to them and turned to your left to stare at the steep stairway.

The steps were made out of wood with a black paint that had started to chip away and the walls were pure red, too bright and intense for your eyes. You focused on the door in front of you and barely saw the red walls around it as they got covered by a dark cloud, your way of seeing more animalistic than human.The only thing in your mind was the need to get some fresh air as emotions threw you around like a shipwreck at the sea. 

You pushed the door open and walked over to a bicycle stand choosing an empty spot where you plopped yourself on. You rocked yourself back and forth as you cried and gripped onto your skin painfully hoping that at least the physical sensation would put an end to your suffering. You started to be more aware of the familiar banging against your skull. 

The door of the karaoke bar opened as Shoko walked outside, her face now serious, resembling more the woman she was at work than the friend giggling at drunk people's jokes. 

“Hey. You forgot this inside.” She handed you your bag.

You wanted to answer something but you could not as the words got stuck to your throat. Your world flashed back and forth between sensations that you weren’t supposed to feel in this moment. The guilt and sadness ate you alive, nipping away from your vitals the more you tried to push them down. 

Shoko placed a cigarette between her lips and lit it up and offered it to you. You took it gladly off her hands inhaling the sweet smoke, but you almost ended up suffocating on it as your nose was too stuffed to handle it. Even the menthol taste was unable to help you with this issue. Shoko opened the green box once more to get herself a smoke as well. 

She took a drag out of it and watched your shuddering figure. 

“I saw you in the hallway with Geto. Something happened at Gojo’s right?”

You lifted your head up mascara running on your cheeks. Had you not been in such a bad state her words would have shocked you. 

“I can’t help you if you don’t want my help.” Shoko crouched down to your level. You stared at her face as she left out a puff of smoke that trailed around her face, the dark eye bags now more visible than ever. 

You choked on your tears once more, now openly wailing on the pavement your fingers digging into the soft flesh of your arm. You dragged your nails across yourself leaving pink trails behind it, the soft tingle covering the areas you had just clawed at. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” you cried, your words hard to decipher as your breath hitched. “I can’t keep on doing this. It’s all my fault. I’m so stupid,” you screamed snot falling onto your shirt. 

“So fucking stupid!” You impulsively pressed the cigarette butt against your thigh melting the cloth away the stinging pain shocking you as your skin shed its layers against the fire. 

You had no shame in your breakdown, frankly you did not even recognize the others that looked in your way speaking with hushed voices around you, as they tightened the grip on their partners hands. “That girl really needs to lay off the drinks,” someone had said loudly. Shoko had wanted to immediately pounce, but she held herself together. She knew that you needed her more. 

“Don’t hurt yourself, when you want to hurt someone else,” her voice was just a whisper. “Can I touch you?” She asked not wanting to trigger you further. You nodded. 

Shoko pulled you into a tight hug and you buried your face on her chest, holding onto her like it was the last thing keeping you afloat. You seeked comfort in her presence. 

“I want to die.” You gripped onto her tighter. “I’m so weak.”

Shoko stroked your hair, her own eyes watering as she listened to you wordlessly. She felt your pain almost just as viscerally as you were experiencing them now.  

“No matter… no matter what I do. I can’t escape them. I just want to be gone. I want to-”

Shoko shushed you and slipped her free hand into her pocket, digging out her phone. Almost ten minutes had gone by. She awkwardly opened her chat with Nanami trying to inform the man who was probably still sitting in their booth waiting for the two of you to come back. 

A male voice disturbed the two of you. “Is everything okay?” 

Shoko pressed her hand on your shoulder pushing herself up from the ground, she whispered to you to stay put, not that you really were in any condition to go anywhere. 

“Good that you’re here. I was just about to text you. Can you get us a taxi?”

“Of course,” he said and opened the app punching in your address that Shoko forwarded to him. He looked so much older and out of place in the busy street. 

This was the kind hearted and lovely Nanami that had forgiven you immediately, after you had punched him in the gut because you were fucked up in the head. The kind hearted and lovely Nanami that you couldn’t look in the eyes, because of a certain man whose name you felt like acid on the tip of your tongue. The thoughts in your head brought fresh tears to your eyes. You dangerously sailed in the deep waters of suicidal ideation, your tired hands opening the forbidden door.  

“It’s going to arrive in five minutes,” Nanami hummed. 

“I think you should go. I’ll handle this,” Shoko said, her voice full of pity. “I’ll keep you posted.”

Nanami nodded in agreement. 

“For what it’s worth, take care of yourself too.” Nanami’s words were carefully chosen, anticipating that you weren’t the only one who needed a hug. 

***

SHOKO’S MEMORIES, YEAR 2006

The beach was filled with people who enjoyed the way the sun spoiled them with its warmth. Shoko was sitting on a towel next to Mei Mei who applied generous amounts of sunscreen on her hand. They sat underneath a parasol that had been propped in the sand, covering them both from the direct sun. The brown haired girl watched as Utahime excitedly threw herself to the water. She had given up on trying to get Shoko and Mei Mei in the water as well. 

“Mei Mei, don’t you have a lot of experience with boys?” Shoko almost whispered and hugged her legs. Her beach shawl swayed when the breeze decided to start playing with the huge piece of cloth. 

“Are you trying to imply something?” Her voice was low and melodic but not at all accusatory. 

“No, nothing like that. I just wanted to ask you something.” Shoko shook her head flustered. “Is it normal for a guy to kiss a girl without asking?” 

Mei Mei burst into laughter. This was the question Shoko was getting all worked up for? 

“Shoko,” Mei Mei’s eyes glimmered softly when she said the younger girl’s name with gentleness that reminded her of a mother tugging a child into bed. “I did not take you for being this innocent,” she teased. 

“I’m not innocent,” the brown haired girl huffed with the unexpected blush decorating her cheeks.

“Did someone do that to you?” Mei Mei tilted her head curiously and offered the sunscreen bottle to Shoko who happily took it to her hands.

“If I tell you, will you promise that you won’t tell anyone?”

“If I’m honest, I don’t think I care enough to tattle. You got me curious now. Tell me,” she hummed as a smile curled on her lips. 

“Well uh.. Suguru kind of kissed me when we were playing truth or dare with Satoru,” Shoko explained . She ran her hand between the warm sand, the grainy texture giving her something else to think about. “It was a stupid dare on Satoru’s part. Dunno why I accepted it.” 

Shoko added that she did not want to kiss him under any circumstances but the boy had managed to go over her boundary with ease. 

“That’s it?” Mei Mei asked, raising her eyebrow. She was almost bewildered at how tame the story was. 

“Yeah.” 

The blue haired woman scoffed.

“Guys think that girls like it when they take control and in a certain sense they are right. Maybe they got their eyes on you? Although, I did think that Suguru and Satoru were..” Mei Mei’s voice trailed off as she thought. “It doesn’t matter.” She concluded. 

“If I were you. I’d go along with it.” Mei Mei suggested. 

“No way. I don’t like them like that. Besides that’s not what I asked for your opinion on.” 

“And?” Mei Mei turned her gaze on Shoko, her eyes hardening as she intensely stared at the younger girl. “Those two men are our generation’s strongest and you’re going to complain that one of them gave you a little kiss?” 

Mei Mei’s melodic voice dropped lower as she showed her true feelings of distaste towards Shoko’s views. 

“If I were you,” she started again, her voice tough and bitter. “I’d be securing my spot by their side and not planning to bring forth meaningless accusations over a game of truth or dare.” 

Shoko was at loss with the things that were being said to her. Now that she thought about it, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to speak with Mei Mei. 

“I did not say I was going to tell anyone,” her voice was squeaky like a little girl’s. 

“But you thought about that right?” Shoko did not deny nor confirm the accusation.

Mei Mei’s face softened. “Shoko, you’re a smart girl. You should know better than to get shaken by two boys, especially when you so eagerly lead them on.“ 

“..I don’t lead them on.”

“Then stop meeting them in your spare time. If you do that, guys will think that you’re willing. You’re not a kid anymore, they do notice that you’re a woman now.” 

She stayed quiet, Mei Mei’s words burning on her skin worse than the summer heat. She did not want guys thinking about her that way. She simply wanted to be their friend and the idea of boys and girls being unable to do that because of bodily differences made Shoko shudder. 

“You want to help your friends, right?” Mei Mei asked when Utahime got out of the water. 

Shoko nodded. 

“Then become a doctor. That’s the best you can do to others with the technique you have.” Her words were probably meant to be comforting, but they made Shoko’s heart sink to the bottom of the ocean. 

“Shookoo!” Utahime ran towards the two girls sitting on the beach towels. 

“Are you willing to swim now?” Sand and water droplets clung onto her radiant skin that the younger girl admired silently. Shoko felt her heart skip a few times in her chest when Utahime offered her hand to her. 

“Sure.” The shy smile stretched on Shoko’s lips. 

“I’ll stay here. But you guys have fun.” Mei Mei announced as she opened the book next to her the pages slightly crumpled up. 

Shoko did not really register Mei Mei’s voice anymore. She grabbed Utahime’s hand and the world slowly faded away around them. 

****

Shoko went through the bathroom nimbly avoiding piles of clothing or takeout bags as she looked through your bathroom cupboard. She found a bag of half used cotton pads and a micelar water from the mess.

The taxi drive had felt like eternity. Your tears had dried before settling in the car and numbness had taken over. Shoko helped you to your bed and said that she’d come back soon, closing the door behind her giving you some space to change into something more comfortable. 

The door opened. Shoko looked at you and sat on the bed. You were using a pillow as a support for your back. The night lamp’s warm color casted shadows around your puffy face. The woman shook the bottle in her hand and poured liquid on the white cotton pad and tilted your face towards hers. 

She pressed the pad on your eyelid carefully letting the mixture soak through the heaps of makeup on your face. You sniffled sadly before speaking. 

“I can do this on my own too.” 

“I want to do this,” her voice was soft as she spoke the makeup remover leaving your skin slightly cold. You simply nodded and admired the way her hair framed her face. 

“You know I’ve had my own bad experiences too,” Shoko said, her face turning to a slight frown. Her mind was sailing in memories that she had given up on trying to understand. 

You were at a loss of words. You wanted to pry, but it felt invasive. 

“With them? Really?” You heard yourself asking as you danced on the line of impropriety.

“Yeah,” Shoko hummed, “but we shouldn’t have this conversation yet. Maybe in the morning, but not now,” she tried to make her voice sound brighter, feel brighter as if it would fix everything. 

“Okay,” you said. Maybe she’s right about this. Shoko discarded the dirty cotton pad, simply placing it on the bedside table. It was at its limits the whole thing turned into the color of your foundation with the small black streaks of your mascara on it, or what was left from it. 

She held onto your face gently for a moment too long even after she was done. You opened your eyes to really look at her. She looked so sad and.. young? Yes young was the right word. She looked like a woman robbed out of something sacred. She had been so happy, so easy to excite in her youth, but now all she seemed to carry was baggage. 

Your drunken mind wanted to close the distance, but something held you back. Maybe it was all the answers that were still being withheld by her, maybe it was the understanding that it’s not the right time yet. 

“Can you stay the night?” you whispered. Shoko breathed in and opened her mouth to say something, but you were faster. “Please? Th-there’s some clothes you can borrow in my closet.” 

She stayed quiet and you waited patiently.

“I’ll stay.” 

You smiled weakly at her and muttered a gentle thank you. She shuffled up from the bed and walked over the closet you had pointed for her. You turned your back to her when you heard the rustling of clothing that she ended up piling up neatly on one of the spare chairs in your bedroom. 

You fluffed up the pillow next to you and lifted up the blanket when she climbed in. You turned your back to her as you lay down on your side. Your hand searched the light switch and then the room was pitch black. 

Shoko awkwardly came closer to you till your back was against hers and she played with your hair idly in the silence. The touch was friendly, your body slumping in relaxation almost immediately. It was nice to have someone there. You had gotten so used to being afraid of the nights. 

“Good night,” she said, her voice hoarse. 

“Night.” 

***

You woke up alone with no trace of the woman in your room. She had gotten up earlier than you and dressed up back to the clothes she had in the bar. You hugged your plush blanket, almost burying your whole face underneath it, not ready to face the day.

Your head hurt and you felt nauseous. How is Shoko even able to do things? You wondered to yourself.

The faint knock on the bedroom door disrupted your thoughts as the door opened slightly. 

“I made a sandwich for you and found some painkillers, if you want any,” she said and you heard her steps further away again. 

You groaned and threw the blanket away from your body, the cold greeting you roughly. 

Your kitchen had gotten miraculously cleaner, the multiple empty beer cans piled in a bag and the dishwasher hummed quietly. You stared at the brown table in front of you that had two sandwiches and glasses of water on it, hunger long gone from your body. 

“You really should drink less.” Shoko picked up another empty can from the counter just to place it in the bag.

“Like you’re the one to talk.” You sat on the chair with its legs squeaking against the floor with your rough treatment. 

You grabbed the pill bottle and rattled out two tablets that you threw in your mouth and drank barely enough water to chase them down. 

“What do you remember?” Shoko asked and sat in front of you. She wasn’t feeling very hungry either. 

“I remember punching Nanami and the talk we had before we fell asleep,” you mumbled, playing with the edges of the slightly crusty lettuce between your sandwich. You had meant to use it on a salad a few days ago, but you were too tired to cook for yourself. Even the simple things were hard. “What did I tell you?”

“Nothing. You were just crying.”

Oh. So it was like that. 

“They assaulted me.” Your face was stern, emotions hidden behind a wall. The words felt weird. It was the first time you had actually said it out loud.

Shoko’s face widened from shock. 

“They what?” 

“Don’t make me repeat it,” you hissed. 

“Sorry, I won’t.” 

The silence felt unbearable and you stuffed your face full of bread just to do something. 

“They did something similar when we were still in school.” Shoko ripped the hangnail painfully from her skin and pressed on the miniscule wound with one of her fingers. 

You chewed the sandwich aggressively without tasting anything, the texture turning to mush in your mouth. 

“Why didn’t you warn me?” Your words were way more accusatory than what you wanted. 

Shoko turned her head to the side looking hurt by your sudden outburst. Her eyebrows scrunched together in pain as she looked for the perfect words, but there were none. 

“You admired them. I didn’t want to take that away from you, and when I realized that I probably should have said..”

“Bullshit, Shoko. It’s been ten years. I deserved to know, you could have-”

“Stop blaming me for their shit!” she yelled. Shoko never yells. 

You fell quiet. You reined in your anger, its hands still attempting to reach out to anything it could latch on. She was right. It’s not her burden to bear, but you still couldn’t help but feel powerless, when there could have theoretically been someone who could have told you to not go there. 

“Sorry,” you simply said just to drop the topic. Shoko sighed defeatedly and pushed her head briefly against her hands. She understood the anger, she really did. 

“They drugged me and then raped me together. I don’t remember a lot from it. I fought back – well attempted to,” your voice shook as you spoke. 

The brown haired woman simply looked at you with silent empathy. 

“Did you at least get one good punch in?” 

Your lips curled into a downhearted smile. The memory of your feeble fight playing in your mind, the weakness and despair of it all, a futile attempt of a prey to preserve their life just one moment longer. 

“Not a single one,” you laughed hollowly as one tear rolled on your cheek and your lips trembled. “But I did rip some hair out of Geto at the school,” you tried to brighten your voice and be brave. 

Shoko’s eyes watered and she answered your smile with her own. 

“Good.” 

The almost happy expression faded from your face. Everything hurt, never had you ever thought to be in a situation like this where you were exchanging devastation with your friend like gifts on christmas. 

“Why did you stay? Even Nanami left for a while, you could have done the same.” Your question was gentler this time. 

Shoko pondered for a minute, not sure of her answer either. 

“Because this is the only way I could help. I had you and Utahime and I didn’t want to leave you two behind. Besides what else was I supposed to do? I’ve been given a technique that can save many if I choose right. Had I left a lot more could have died because I wasn’t here — all because of what two men did,” she tried to put her thoughts together. 

“There’s a reason why Utahime doesn’t like Gojo,” Shoko blurted out and played with her hair. 

You took a careful sip of water as if you were trying to carefully dissect the different flavors of Shoko’s words. 

“What do you mean? Did they do something to her as well?” 

“No. I just mean that women know, you know? I think it’s in our blood to recognize danger. That’s one of the reasons she despises him. But this is just my thought, not an universal truth,” Shoko wondered out loud. 

She breathed in once again as if the words she was about to speak were too painful. 

“I think sometimes us women have to carry the atrocities of men. There’s no rhyme or reason why they do certain things. At least that’s what I’ve been telling myself. I never went through what you did, but I can’t say that I’m surprised,” she mused. “I’m sorry though. What you went through. It’s not right.”

Her brown eyes stared at you expectantly. You chewed on your lip nervously and tapped the empty plate with your nail, the small tinkle sound working as a metronome. 

“No, it’s not,” you huffed. But it feels like it’s my fault. If I had not gone there, if I had not idolized them – loved them even. This wouldn’t have ended this way. It was easier to leave those words in your head. 

“So what now?” You looked at Shoko, your eyes pleading, asking for answers, guidance, anything she would be able to provide to you. You knew there was nothing clear cut Shoko could say, but god how you wished that someone would know what to do. 

Shoko shook her head in defeat as if telling you that she wasn’t able to point you on the right track like that. 

“Whatever you want. You can stay or go, but you don’t have to carry it alone,” Shoko said, her face gentle. You could still draw out the remnants of the young girl from the year two thousand and six on her features. The lines were almost faded but they were still there. 

You found kinship in her even if neither of you had shared the full story of what had happened. You weren’t there yet and you weren’t ready. Instead the two of you skirted around words unspoken finding solace of at least having someone who could understand. It was up to the both of you what to make out of the confessions of the past. 

[b0ng05]

Over this - Toxic!Amber Freeman x Reader

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Word Count: 6151

Prompt: Y/n receives a text from an unknown number. Only to find out it's her ex. She can't help but think about all the toxic stuff Amber did to her.

Warnings: Toxic Relationship! Mentions of abuse! Angst!!

Also, Not Proofread💅

Masterlist

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Unknown: Hey, you awake? 11:21 p.m.

Unknown: It’s Amber 11:22 p.m.

I thought I was over it. I thought things had been left in the past. I thought she forgot about me. But after receiving a text from an unknown number, it was clear she didn’t. I laid in my bed, gazing at my ceiling as tears streamed down my face. It had been over 3 years. Yet the traumatizing memories that flooded back in felt so very fresh. Each incident vividly clear as my eyes fluttered shut.

Amber stares into her mirror, adjusting her dark hair and touching up her makeup. My arms were wrapped around her waist, my hand gently rubbing her stomach as I watched over her shoulder. Her TV was hooked up to her phone, playing her playlist that wasn’t all that rangeful. Most of the songs were just replaying, mainly the same artist’s songs. It was getting quite bland hearing the same voice over and over for the past hour. But I endured it while staring at her, utterly smitten.

“Isn’t she kind of overrated?” I tease playfully, referencing the artist singing, knowing she was one of Amber’s favorites. While poking Amber’s side in a playful manner, hoping to gain her attention for at least a moment. Having had been watching Amber for a while with no commentary or affection on her end for 15 minutes. Not that I minded, being with her felt more than enough.

Instead of hearing a sarcastic quip back from her like usual, my head is whipped to the side faster than I can register. Her hand hung in the air, giving me an explanation to my now turned face. “You just slapped me.” I say slowly, registering what the fuck just happened. “Yeah. Quit saying dumb shit.” She scoffs, turning back to her reflection, quite unfazed with her own actions.

I remove my arms from her waist after seeing the forming red print of her hand on my cheek in the reflection of her mirror. I backed up, going to grab my phone off her charger to leave, wanting out of the situation. But before I can even make it three steps away, her hand is wrapped tightly around my wrist in a strong grip. She turns me to face her, one hand trailing my hip.

“Where are you going?” She asks, her tone turning seraphic and sweet. “I’m leaving, I don’t want to be here.” I say, trying to move away from her grip to no avail. “Oh don’t be a baby. You know I didn’t mean it, Y/n/n. You know I wouldn’t hurt you like that seriously.” Amber's deceptively sweet tone calls out. Her hand moved to caress my cheek softly.

“Don’t go. Please?” Amber hums softly, a small pout on her lips and her eyes pleading with my own. I give in, unable to ignore the ache in my heart at the desperate look in her eyes. I put my phone down and move to sit beside her once more.

That was just the beginning of a toxic relationship that was to soon blossom. A lesson that I wasn’t aware I needed to learn. You hear the stories of toxic relationships and think it could never happen to you, that you would never fall for the sob stories and the twisted manipulative ways of lovers that seek oblivious prey.

Amber and I were at Tara’s house, all sitting in her living room watching some action movie on the TV. I was curled up to Amber’s side, her arm wrapped around my shoulder. Tara was sitting on the other side of me, her arm resting on the armrest and her chin resting in the palm of her hand. Tara lets out a huff of a laugh as a new actress enters the scene of the movie.

“Don’t you think that chick’s dress is ugly?” Tara jokes, the dress the actress wore was adorned with yellow and orange polka dots with a weird neckline that was not at all flattering for the actress’s figure. “I don’t think you should be judging Tara, especially with your body,” Amber chuckles as she glances over at Tara with a douchy smirk. Her hand rubbing along my shoulder as they have a moment of a silent stare off.

“Fuck off,” Tara mumbles, before setting her popcorn bowl down on the coffee table and walking upstairs to her room. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I whisper, looking at her completely disgusted with her rude behavior. “Oh come on, it was just a joke. She’ll get over it.” Amber rolls her eyes, attempting to pull me closer to her embrace.

“No. That was seriously fucked up. You don’t comment on someone else’s body.” I state, removing her arm from me as I stand up, going to follow Tara upstairs to apologize for Amber’s unacceptable behavior. “Seriously? Tara made a mean comment and you didn’t give her the cold shoulder!” Amber huffs, as she stands up, her arms raised outward in anger as she tries to make an excuse. “No. She commented on a dress design that was ugly. Not the woman’s body.” I scoff, walking over to the stairs. Fully intending to apologize to Tara on Amber’s behalf.

As I step on the landing to walk up the stairs, my vision goes black. Everything was too fast to understand. I feel a heavy pressure around my neck, and the back of my head aches with the force it slammed into the wall with. My body feels a numb tingly feeling, my legs much like jelly. As my vision tunnels back in, the sight I’m met with is Amber’s hand around my throat, slamming me against the wall behind me. Her grip was so tight that I could barely gasp for breath, surely to bruise later on. Her eyes were darker than before, the look was terrifying and had a sadistic essence that left my skin crawling and spine shivering. Her cocky smile no longer there, in place was a twitching snarl. I felt my heart drop in utter fear.

Before I could say an attempt to stutter out anything, she tried to play off her violent actions after seeing the fear written on my face. Her lips shifted into a flirty smirk, and leaning in to kiss me, her lips pressed against mine in a bruising manner that left mine aching and not in a good way, her hand still gripping my around throat tightly. As my senses start to come back to me, I push her away as hard as I can, making her stumble back a bit, and then I rush upstairs to Tara’s room, not bothering to knock. I open the door and shut it behind me. Tara looks up at me bewildered as she sees the fear, betrayal and confusion written on my face.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Tara asks, getting up from her bed to wrap her arms around me in soft gentle embrace. “I- I um- I’m sorry for how Amber was acting, it wasn’t right.” I apologize, struggling to find the words that I desperately wanted to speak. Fear eating at my mind, knowing Amber was just beyond the door. “Hey, hey, no, you don’t have to apologize for her, Y/n. She is her own person, and so are you, okay?” Tara soothes, her hand softly rubbing my back trying to comfort me. “I-”

Before I could speak another word, the door swung open, Amber entering the room. Her gaze hardens at the sight. She walks over and grabs my wrist, pulling me towards the door. “We gotta head out,” Amber states, but her tone was more so demanding. “What- wait-” Tara tries to intervene but to no avail with the intense glare that Amber sent her way.

Amber drags me out of Tara’s room towards the stairs, and once we got downstairs, she didn’t waste a second getting us out the front door and into her car. “What did you say to her?” Amber demands as she enters the driver’s seat of her car.

She quickly floors it out of Tara’s driveway, taking a left turn, wheels squealing, meaning we were going in the direction of her house. My stomach turns, a sickening feeling overcoming me at the sound of her tone and the look in her eyes. Mentally, I couldn’t help but think back to the psychology class Amber and I had attended yesterday at school. More so the lesson, the one on gut-brain connection. Never thought I’d actually use the information, but seeing and feeling it happen in real time made something click in my brain. I didn’t deserve this.

“I just apologized for you being an asshole.” I huffed, a new found confidence bestowed in my mind. “Excuse you? I was the asshole? No. You were a bitch for running off when I was trying to kiss you and make up.” Amber quips, her face contorting in anger and annoyance as she grips the steering wheel tightly. “You’re the one that wants to be a stubborn bitch about everything.”

“You put your fucking hands on me. I had a pretty good fucking reason to run. Pullover.” I uncross my arms, one hand going for the door handle. “No! I’m not fucking pulling over.” Amber seethes, running a hand through her hair in frustration.

“I don’t want to be near you right now! Pull over.” I demand, my head whipping to the car door when I hear her press the lock button on her side of the car. “I’m not fucking pulling over, we are gonna talk this out. I don’t wanna lose you!” Amber starts to make herself cry, a skill she had mastered in order to manipulate me into letting her have her way.

My phone starts to ring in my back pocket, I pull it out and check the screen, the caller ID showing my mom’s name. I let out a sigh of relief. “My mom is calling.” I state. I don’t bother to glance at her direction as I answer the phone. My parents taking priority over my highschool girlfriend. “Hey honey, we need you to come home and watch the dog. Your father and I are going out for date night,” My mom’s soothing voice informs.

“Yeah of course, I’ll be home in a few.” I say before ending the call, making sure to say an ‘I love you’ at the end. “My parents need me home.” I state. “Okay, so we’ll talk this out at your house.” Amber nods, wiping her tears with the sleeve of her hoodie.

“No, my parents don’t want anyone over while I’m home alone, and they just got new cameras installed last week.” I throw in a lie at the end, just craving some space away from her.

I had spent my whole summer, every single day at her home, at her side. It was already halfway through the school year and I still barely had room to breathe with her constantly at my side. Not only that, but she had been so controlling. The whole summer, she would refuse to let me go home when I wanted to unless my parents called me practically begging me to come back home. She went through my phone, blocking every friend that she deemed a threat to our relationship, some that didn’t even do anything wrong at all. All just so she could feel more in control of our relationship.

“Okay, so you can still facetime me when you get home right?” Amber asks sternly, her hand moving to grip mine in a tight grasp. “Yeah, I’ll call you after my parents leave.” I lie through my teeth, planning to fake a low battery before the call.

“Okay… Promise?” Amber asks, glancing at me for a brief moment before her eyes turn back to the road, taking a turn towards my house to drop me off. “I promise.” I nod, lifting her hand up to my lips to kiss the back of it. She smiles and caresses the back of my hand with her thumb. “Also, we gotta talk about Tara. I don’t want us hanging out with her anymore.” Amber commands. “But why? I thought you liked Tara? She’s nice.” I say bewildered by her.

“Yeah, a little too nice to you.” Amber scoffs, her hand moving to grip my thigh possessively, “You are mine, and I don’t want you seeing her. Is that clear?” Amber questions, her hand gripping my thigh in an increasingly painful grip. “Yes ma’am.” I mumble, wincing in pain.

“Good girl.” Amber smirks in satisfaction as her hand gently rubs over when her nail marks are now indented. Amber turns into the driveway of my house, parking her car in the driveway. She turns to me, reaching out to caress my cheek. Looking at me with the same look that always won me over. “I’m gonna miss you.” Amber pouts, tracing over my bottom lip with her thumb.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” I say, feeling a pang of guilt at the sight of her pout. “Okay… Give me one more kiss?” She asks, leaning closer, her breath brushing against my lips. “Okay,” I nod, leaning in to kiss her softly before pulling away. “I love you,” Amber calls as I unbuckle my seatbelt and open the car door. “I love you too…” I say back before closing the car door behind me.

I walk up my driveway, feeling her eyes on me as I get to the door. I quickly get inside and lock the door behind me. Upon entering, my mom appears from the entrance of the kitchen. “There you are,” She walks over to me, “Your dad and I will be back in a couple hours, take care of our dog, alright? Make sure he isn’t lonely.” My mom laughs a bit at the end as she hugs me.

She grabs her purse and coat, “Let’s go!” She yells up the stairs to my dad who was taking his precious time on his hair. He quickly rushes down the stairs, nearly tripping down them, but catching himself with a nervous smile as he looks over at my mom who was unamused by his inability to be careful. “We’ll be back soon, love you kiddo,” My dad grins, patting my shoulder before offering his arm out to my mom as they walk out to their car.

Once they exit, I make sure the front door is locked, checking the back door too. No, I wasn’t expecting Amber to show up again, but I wouldn’t put it past her. Once I made sure they were secure, I called my dog to come with me up to my bedroom.

Unknown: Hey, you awake? 11:21 p.m.

Unknown: It’s Amber 11:22 p.m.

Unknown: I miss you 11:24 p.m.

I sigh as I rub my eyes with the back of my hands. It hurts to think I was so naive. And now, with her texting me, it was all just carving open old wounds that weren’t fully finished healing. A speedy thump to the heart in my chest, one that I didn’t want but couldn’t control. My mind flashes with memories that I wish I could forget.

We were laying in Amber’s bed, her head resting on my chest as we watched videos on my phone that I held on my stomach. Her hand was softly rubbing my hip. “She looks familiar.” I comment, referring to the woman in the video who was explaining an ongoing situation in the world. “You think she’s pretty, don’t you?” Amber scoffs, lifting her head off my chest to look back up at me with an unamused look, her eyebrows furrowed.

“No, I’m just saying that I think I’ve seen her videos before,” I elaborate, softing stroking her hair trying to ease her mind. “Don’t fucking lie to me.” Amber scoffs, sitting up and taking my phone out of my hand. “I’m not lying, baby. I promise.” I say softly, my hand moving to gently caress her cheek, but she pushes my hand away. “I can’t even trust anything you fucking say.” Amber gets up from the bed, pacing her room, her face contorted in anger, that dark look in her eyes coming back.

I felt my heart race in my chest, not liking when she got like this, usually I could calm her down before a total meltdown. “You’re such a fucking liar! I saw you at school talking to Tara on Tuesday, y’know that?!” She seethes, lifting her arm back as she chucked my phone with no intent in direction. It felt like it happened in slow motion as the phone smacked me right in the face, hitting my nose and lip in a harsh manner. My hands quickly rush to cradle my face in pain.

“Fuck!” I cry in pain, blood gushing from my nose, my lip now busted from being pinched hard between my tooth and phone. Blood dripped down my lip and momentarily stained my teeth. “God don’t be so dramatic, it was an accident.” Amber rolls her eyes as she grabs a towel that was hanging off the back of her closet, walking over to hold it to my face.

“One that you could have fucking prevented!” I scoff, trying to push her hands away as I tried to hold the towel myself. “Baby, you know I didn’t mean it, I wouldn’t do that to you on purpose, I just got angry” Her tone turns sweet and soft, her hand running soothingly through my hair. “But you did!” I say, trying to move away from her. “It wasn’t my fault!” Amber huffs, pulling me into her arms, tight enough that I couldn’t get away.

She leans down and presses soft kisses on my cheek, whispering sweet nothings to calm me down and get me to stop trying to squirm away. After almost 20 minutes, I no longer fought her embrace, rather leaning into it as she rubbed my back softly. Her hand holding the towel to my face, coddling me. My mind was busy thinking on how I would explain the injuries to my mom when I got home.

Unknown: Hey, you awake? 11:21 p.m.

Unknown: It’s Amber 11:22 p.m.

Unknown: I miss you 11:24 p.m.

Unknown: Please baby 11:27 p.m.

I let out a shaky breath, my eyes closed as I stewed in my thoughts. My hand brought up to my face, tracing over where the bump on my lip used to reside, the memories felt so fresh that I could almost feel the old wound. Then another memory flashed through my head, an invisible stake of pain piercing through the back of my skull. Remembering her was only gutting my stability further.

Amber and I were walking around a bar in a busy part of town, her mom was a busy woman, and one of her friends was having a cancer benefit. Her mother was only able to attend for 30 minutes before having to leave for a work meeting. She requested that Amber and I stay behind in her place, also asking us to make sure her name was at the top of all the raffle items for the benefit. Amber agreed after being lectured by her mother. I remained by her side, trying to be a supportive girlfriend.

We walked into the room that held the raffle buckets next to the items and the clipboard to list your name along with your bid for the item. Amber’s mother did not spare a dime with the tickets she bought, wanting to be as supporting as she can for her friend, as well as wanting to win a full massage and mani pedi. “God this is boring,” Amber whispers, guiding me to a wall for us to lean on. I lean my back against the cold brick wall, Amber moving to stand in front of me, her hand caressing my waist. “Calm down, we only have to be here for a bit longer like your mom asked.” I mumble quietly, my eyes scanning the room, observing the people in the crowded area. “Why not make it a little interesting~?” Amber smirks, her hand moving to cup my jaw as she leans in and connects her lips with mine, trying to start a heated makeout session, I push her back slightly. “I don’t feel like this is appropriate. This isn’t the time or place, I don’t feel comfortable doing this here.” I voice my concerns softly, trying not to upset her as I caress her cheek gently.

“Uhuh sure~” Amber’s smirk doesn’t falter as she leans in and forces her lips against mine once more. My hands move to her shoulders trying to push her back. Her hands move to grip my waist tighter, trapping me between the wall and her. With the crowd as busy and as drunk as they were, didn’t notice my struggle. Except for one woman, who just so happened to be working at the cancer benefit. “Excuse me, you two need to go. Out. Now.” An older woman with dark brown hair and a Monroe piercing scolds, her thin eyebrow quirked up.

I recognized her as one of the women Amber’s mother was talking with earlier before she took her leave. I felt a disgusting guilt building up inside me. I felt dirty, not in a good way, in a vile way. Amber knew how I felt about PDA, especially in settings like this. “Yeah, yeah.” Amber rolls her eyes, smiling cockily as she grabs my hand dragging me out of the room into the bar area where they would soon announce the winners. I went to sit down on one of the only empty stools left, but Amber stopped me, sitting down in the seat, making me stand in front of her as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders. A blonde woman with glasses in an olive green dress stood up to begin announcing the winners from the raffle and bids. After a harrowing thirty minutes, all the winners were announced, none of which were Amber’s mother. My legs were killing me, having stood the whole time with the pressure of Amber’s head and arms resting on me.

“Whatever, let’s go.” Amber scoffs, feeling some sort of selfish anger for having wasted her time. I couldn’t understand her anger. But Amber got mad over a lot of minor things, so it wasn’t really a surprise that this was sparking a flame of anger in her. Amber grabbed my hand and dragged me through the crowds of people in the small bar. We get out the door and after a few steps outside, Amber stops me. She was shivering, having worn only a t-shirt and jeans in the middle of fall.

“Give me your hoodie.” She states, holding out her pale ringed hand. “Why? You chose to not wear a hoodie when I told you to wear one.” I say, my eyebrows furrowing, still kind of pissed off about her making me stand up the whole half hour. “Maybe because I’m your fucking girlfriend and your ride home.” Amber snaps back, her jaw clenching as she snaps her fingers, cueing me to give her the hoodie. “Okay..” I sigh, peeling off my dark green hoodie and handing it to the girl, leaving me in t-shirt and cargo pants. I didn’t want to walk home tonight, so I didn’t see the point in arguing with her further. I could feel the cold dry sting of the air hit me. I shivered, and we began to walk to her car. When we got to her car, she was livid, the parking meter had expired, a ticket sat under the windshield wiper. Her eye twitched a bit as she hastily walked over, snatching the ticket off the windshield and getting in the car. I quickly follow suit, not wanting to piss her off more. I get into the car, shutting the door behind me. I buckle my seatbelt, feeling an absolute need to, knowing she’s seething in anger. As I got in, she seemed cool for a minute, before her fist drove into the steering wheel, punching repeatedly. I reached out and held her hand with mine, preventing her fist from hitting it again, not wanting her to hurt herself. I unbuckle my seatbelt and lean over, holding her head to my chest, embracing her tightly. I move over to straddle her lap. Her arms wrap around me, holding me breathlessly tight, letting out a frustrated and muffled cry out into my chest.

I felt guilty. She was having a hard day already, her mom yelled at her earlier, a woman scolded us, she was upset about the raffle, I argued about the hoodie, and now she has a ticket. I kissed the crown of her forehead and whispered sweet nothings trying to calm her down. Once her breathing was more normal, I pulled back and looked back into her eyes, feeling a jolt to my heart as hers met mine.

“You okay?” I whisper softly, kissing her cheek a few times. Her lips were puffed out in a small pout and her eyes were teary as she stared back at me. “I’m sorry, I just- I got overwhelmed.” Amber mumbles, pressing her face back into my chest

Unknown: Hey, you awake? 11:21 p.m.

Unknown: It’s Amber 11:22 p.m.

Unknown: I miss you 11:24 p.m.

Unknown: Please baby 11:27 p.m.

Unknown: I need you 11:30 p.m.

I bit my bottom lip, as I thought about her eyes. Back then, I thought I always saw her eyes softening when she gazed back at me, but now that it’s been years, I have come to realize it was her loving the power and control she had over me. The way she had me wrapped around her finger no matter what.

It was a few days after the incident where she had slapped me over a joke I made about her music.

Amber and I were cuddling in her bed when my phone buzzed in the sheets next to us. She picked it up and checked the notification. My head was nuzzled into the crook of her neck, her hand that wasn’t occupied with my phone was stroking my hair softly. “Your ex fucking texted you.” Amber scoffs, opening the text. Her hand stopped stroking my hair, moving to aid her other hand with the phone.

“Block her,” I mumble, too sleepy to care about whatever my ex wants. “She said she found your hoodie and wants you to come pick it up.” Amber says after reading the text. “Tell her to throw it away.” I say, pressing a soft kiss to her neck. “No, actually…” Amber pauses thinking, “Go pick up the hoodie.” She states, pushing my head off her neck. “Why? I don’t want it.” I huff, a bit pouty about her ruining my comfortable position.

“Well I do, because then the next time that bitch stalks your instagram, she’ll get the pleasure of seeing me in your hoodie.” Amber smirks, handing my phone back to me. “Why does it matter if it’s that one? You’re on my instagram wearing my hoodies in most of our pictures,” I ask confusedly as I lean over to kiss her cheek before putting my phone in my pocket. “Because, I get to rub it in that you’re mine. If she’s willing to go through the trouble of giving you your hoodie back, she gets to go through the trouble of seeing me in it later.” Amber states before kissing me softly. “Now go get that hoodie.” She smiles, waving me off. Within a ten minute walk, I was outside my ex’s house. She stood on her burgundy colored porch, holding a familiar black hoodie in her hands. I walked up to the stairs of her porch. She smiles at me, sitting down on one of the steps as she hands it to me. “Hey… how are you?” She asks, her tone nothing but friendly.

Before she and I had broken up, we used to be close friends. Even after the break up, we remained friends until I met Amber. We broke up for the main reason that while being with me, she discovered that what she thought were romantic feelings towards me were nothing but platonic. I had felt the same way and hence the being friends thing. “I’m okay, how are you?” I ask, my voice a little rough from having walked over on a hot summer day with no water. “I’m alright. But I’m worried about you,” She pauses, “Mindy told me that you stopped talking to most of the group. What’s going on with you?” She asks softly, her hand touching my shoulder in a comforting manner. I let out a shaky sigh as tears welled up in my eyes. “Things have been difficult lately.” I state vaguely, running a hand through my hair. “What do you mean? You can talk to me. You know I won’t say a thing,” She says, knowing I’ve had a past of people telling my business to other people who have no right to it. “Amber has been getting more controlling, and well…” I sigh and wipe my face with my hand. “And what?” She whispers softly, trying to remain supportive and comforting. “She slapped me the other day,” I mumble, not wanting to have to face the reality, but knowing I need to. “What? Y/n, that’s not okay,” A small gasp comes from her mouth as she rubs my arm comfortingly. She knew this kind of behavior from anyone, especially a teenager, wasn’t okay whatsoever. She didn’t honestly have any other words besides, “You need to tell an adult.” She pauses her words, to try to lay them out more kindly, “What she’s doing isn’t right. You don’t deserve to be hurt.” She says. My phone buzzes in my back pocket, I pull it out to check it. The realization of how much time had passed brings me concern as the notification from Amber popped up. She asked what was taking me so long, and told me to hurry up.

“I gotta go, I’m sorry,” I say, slipping my phone back in my pocket before turning to walk off, missing the look of pity that my ex sent me as I walked off. I quickly hurried back to Amber’s house, despite the smoldering heat that threatened to wind me down to the sidewalk. I get back to her house, to see her waiting on her couch with her feet propped up on the dark brown coffee table in front of her. “You get the hoodie?” Amber asks, looking up from her phone. “Y- yeah.” I say through heavy breaths. I toss it over to her. She picks it up, inspecting it and the design.

“What took you so long?” She interrogates, looking back up at me with a bated stare.

“It was a long walk in hot heat,” I excuse, moving to sit beside her as I pick up her water bottle off the table to take a swig. “BS, what took you so long?” She scoffs, turning to face me with a raised brow. “My ex asked how I was doing,” I admit, looking up to meet her eyes. “And what did you say?” Amber asks, squinting her eyes. “I said I was fine,” I shrug, setting the water bottle back down on the table. “And that was it?” Amber asks, not convinced at all. “That was it.” I say, my eyes accidentally diverting from hers out of guilt. “Bullshit. What else?” She demands, grabbing my chin to force me to look at her. “She said that Mindy told her I wasn’t coming around the group as much anymore.” I admit further, wanting her to let my chin out of her tight grip. Amber lets out a dark chuckle, pinching the bridge of her nose. “A whole month without speaking to you and she still can’t keep you off her damn mind. No wonder I felt the need to keep you away from her.” Amber rolls her eyes, pulling me into her lap. I don’t say anything, not wanting to argue and cause a bigger reaction from her. Instead I silently snuggled up to the crook of her neck as she ran her ringed hand over my back in small soothing circles.

Unknown: Hey, you awake? 11:21 p.m.

Unknown: It’s Amber 11:22 p.m.

Unknown: I miss you 11:24 p.m.

Unknown: Please baby 11:27 p.m.

Unknown: I need you 11:30 p.m.

Unknown: Answer babe 11:33 p.m.

I didn’t hate her, after all the bullshit she did then. Not until Richie. That’s when I started to.

I walked into Amber’s home, a happy grin along my lips. I came over planning to surprise her with a cute box of snacks and drinks I made for her. I spent hours on the box alone, painting each side, attempting to recreate her favorite Stab movie covers on each side, paying close attention to each detail to try and make it near perfect for her. The box was nearly overflowing in her favorite snacks and drinks. I walked up the stairs towards her bedroom, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion as I heard a bed creaking. I didn’t see anyone else’s car in the driveway so I made the stupid assumption of her having a reasonable explanation like taking care of her own needs. I balance the box on the side of my hip as I open her bedroom door. What I didn’t expect to see was Richie on top of her as she moaned out his name. The box dropped from under my arm, loudly crashing to the floor, capturing the attention of both of them. Amber’s eyes widened as she was at a loss for words. I saved her the brain power by running out of the house and driving away before she could even reach me. By the time I reached my house, I ran inside, tears leaving my eyes as I called one person that I thought I’d never call again. Tara. I called Tara. No explanation, just telling her I needed her to come to my house immediately. I went to each door and window in my house, making sure they were locked and if possible covered with the curtains and blinds. Knowing that Amber was persistent and if I didn’t pick up her calls eventually, she’d show up. I just prayed Tara would be here before then. I needed to tell someone the truth, because I didn’t quite frankly know what to do with it. Being a teenager, you don’t expect to be used like a punching bag or cheated on with a grown ass man.

I was sitting on my living room couch, my phone was tossed on the coffee table, buzzing with texts from Amber. All I knew was that I didn’t want to hear it. As I cried on the couch, a knock on the front door broke me from my sob session. I got up quickly, making my way to the door quietly before peaking out the peephole, seeing Tara standing at my doorstep. I unlock and open the door, letting the girl in before locking the door back up.

“Hey, what’s going on with you?” Tara asks softly, seeing my tear stained face. I shake my head to prevent a sob from breaking through as I hug her, burying my head in her shoulder. As my cries wrack my body, she holds me close, stroking my hair softly, shushing my cries. “It’s gonna be okay, we’ll get over this.” She whispered, unsure of what the situation was, but more than willing to try and help.

Unknown: Hey, you awake? 11:21 p.m.

Unknown: It’s Amber 11:22 p.m.

Unknown: I miss you 11:24 p.m.

Unknown: Please baby 11:27 p.m.

Unknown: I need you 11:30 p.m.

Unknown: Answer babe 11:31 p.m.

Unknown: Fucking answer me 11:33 p.m.

“Babe, turn your phone off, I can’t sleep with the constant notifications,” A tired brunette groans beside me in bed. She turns over in the sheets, burying her face in the crook of my neck with a tired pout. “Sorry, love. I’ll turn it off.” I kiss the top of Tara’s head, turning the do not disturb on my phone. I hover my finger over the button on my phone screen. I press down on the block button. I’m over this.

[liquidorcard]

Lily's Harley Quinn Show video is Garbage (and here's why)

We all know Lily's media hottakes are BAD. But, I feel like critics have mostly focused on her hottakes on media she hates. I've personally become more interested in what media she actually LIKES . . . Because her rational is often times even more nuts.

Well, this video made me mad enough that I'm gunna write a post about it now. Prepare your assholes for the death rattle of this DC fanboy losing his shit:

To be clear, I like this show, for some of the same reasons Lily does even. . . But that's not going to stop me from taking the piss.

(I encourage you all to watch the video in full beforehand so you can get the context of the quotes I'm pulling. Timestamps will be included though.

I just told people to watch your stupid video Lily-- can't cry copyright here.)

-0:19: TWENTY SECONDS IN, STEVEN UNIVERSE IS REFERENCED. GG LILLIAN.

-0:36: BITCHING ABOUT HOW VICTIMIZED SHE IS. 30 SECONDS IN.

-0:55: "I dare say it's the best thing to come out of the Batman franchise in a long time."

It seems like the last thing Lily watched/played/read in "the Batman franchise" was The Dark Knight. You dare boldly, Lily. Ironically I feel like she would at least like the Lego Batman movie, if not all the other good shit that's come out since 2011. Also, this is one of the first of many times she calls the entire fucking DC Universe "The Batman Franchise."

-1:00: "If you're watching this show for at all you're watching it for the romantic arc between Harley and Ivy. Don't lie."

I know this is a joke. I'm not an idiot, but. If you're familiar with Lily's general media consumption, you'll be well aware she watches shit a lot of the time for the ships and the ships ALONE. I feel like this really highlights how she views media in general in a way that's rather revealing. This video is two years old, and I wouldn't be surprised if Lily's opinion has soured a bit given the direction the show goes after this video was released. Put a pin in this comment. 📌

-1:15: "I mean it's a post-joker Harley Quinn show what else are they going to do.

Put a pin in that comment.📌

-2:00: Lily goes on to summarize the plot of the show . . . Completely ignoring all the plot beats that have nothing to do with the romance.

Put a pin in that one too.📌

-3:30: Lily indicates she identifies with Ivy.

Another pin.📌

-4:10: Lily starts talking about how near the end of the second season, Harley has now confessed her feelings to Ivy, but Ivy turns her down because she's going to get married to Kite Man (enjoy the insanity of that sentence if you haven't seen the show.)

Though I don't think she's nessesarily making any real poor points here yet, I want to point out that she really flattens the complexity of the emotions going on here. The problem is that Ivy and Harley's relationship has reached a level of intimacy where they really can't just go back to being friends. Ivy is happily in a relationship with Kite Man at this point, he's been a much more stable and reliable partner to Ivy. Though it's implied her feelings for Harley go a lot deeper. During Joker's confrontation of Harley, Lily frames it as a "go get 'er" pep talk like it's a fucking 80s rom com. He's trying more to get Harley to emotionally resolve things with her-- regardless of outcome. Ivy did say no once already. The audience expects she isn't going to say no a second time since that wouldn't be a narratively satisfying conclusion, but in the real world equivalent, she could have. The Joker wasn't telling Harley to harass Ivy until she gives in.

-5:16: Not really a mark against Lily's video persay, but in a season that aired after Lily made this video the prospect of Harley and Ivy breaking up is explored. Lily must have been seething, lol.

-5:28: "I love a good fluffy romance. I'm so fucking done with people's obsession with the nasty stuff [Flashes Catra and Adora on screen.]"

Honestly this comment has me wondering if Lily decided to check her phone or just skip through scenes where Harley and Ivy weren't being lovey-dovey. I don't know what fucking show she apparently watched (foreshadowing is a narrative tool wh--.)

-5:48: "Poison Ivy has always had the same problem a lot of female characters in DC comics have had in despite being an actual doctor they always just put her in a skin tight leotard [ . . . ] About the only notable exception to that was in The Batman [the 2005 show] where she was a teenager [classical Lily goonery inserted here.]"

Ignoring the goon comment, in isolation I don't have a grievance with this comment persay. As a generalization, it's more or less true about Ivy. She's unfortunately one of the lesser well-used characters in the various DC canons as a whole. However, Lily is going to start implying she's more familiar with DC in general, especially the comics, than she really is. I have strong reason to doubt Lily would know Ivy canonically has a doctorate in botanical sciences if this show didn't call so much attention to it. You'll see why in a moment.

Also the 2005 Batman show is far from the only iteration to reimagine Ivy as a teen. I like that show's take on Ivy too, but that's not a fucking unique spin on the character.

-6:57: "Clayface was always a random D-list monster like Carnage, but here he's reimagined as a struggling actor."

In a show that had the balls to feature Queen of Fables, she's calling Clayface a fucking "d-lister." Nevermind Carnage. But no Lily, Clayface has been a struggling actor since his first appearance in Detective Comics No.40. It's literally the first thing in his bio on his fucking wiki page.

-7:09: "There's one episode where [Clayface] assumes the identity of Stephanie to get into Riddler's college [ . . . ] Seriously I'm convinced he's been moonlighting as Stephanie a lot. The other girls on campus call her 'Steph.' She's been there for a while. This is Clayface's secret identity and you can't convince me otherwise."

LILY THAT'S NOT SUBTEXT THAT'S THE FUCKING JOKE. IT'S TEXT. IT'S CANON. YES. CLAYFACE HAS BEEN FUCKING AROUND ON RIDDLER'S CAMPUS THIS WHOLE TIME. CONFIRMED IN THE SHOW. LILY. LILLLYYYYYY.

Worth pointing out too, she'd totally call Clayface's Stephanie character transphobic if she hated the show.

-9:00: "The writers though 'okay, what do we use to fill our quota of the sad misguided villian this arc-- oh I know fucking BATMAN!'"

Lily what the fuck are you doing when you sit down to watch a show for your channel? Are you playing Candycrush the whole time? Are you screaming at Mikaila that often you miss like . . . Almost everything!? What are you doin' sweaty!?

Lilian, Bruce is not the primary antagonist of the 3rd season . . . IVY IS. Or really, Harley and Ivy's emotional dysfunction is the antagonist of basically this whole series, and it's Ivy's turn to be the main driver of conflict. The person destroying Gotham is Ivy. Not Batman, IVY.

Bruce and Selina's relationship is supposed to be a conceptual foil to Harley and Ivy's. Bruce is having an emotional breakdown the entire series has more or less been building up to.

-9:15: [In reference to Batman getting sent to prison] "I want him to get some nice and comfortable therapy."

. . . Lily is that what you think happens in prison?

-9:35: Lily is talking about the Joker's step-dad arc, and this is as good a time as any to stop for a sec to talk about how Lily doesn't seem to get what The Harley Show is doing with the characters.

The thing that makes the show an exceptionally brilliant take on the DC universe is that virtually all the characters (with some exceptions, that were tweaked for the better mostly) are actually faithful to their comic book/generally established characterization. To an impressive degree, down to even just minor details. You can tell the people who made this show are genuine fans of DC comics. Their personalities and character arcs are exaggerated for comedic effect, with specific interesting angles teased out to draw focus to them. Some elements of their personality are recontextualized to create a more engaging dynamic, but regardless. Even most of the plot elements are at least loose adaptations of storylines from the comic, or other DC media. It's really impressive how the show both works as a functional take on the DC universe by itself, and as a parody of it. Lily demonstrates she's totally oblivious to this multiple times in the video, but her section on the Joker best exemplifies this.

The Joker has taken over and/or become mayor of Gotham multiple times in the comics. Lily thinks for some god forsaken reason in the 70 something years Batman comics have been printed, nobody's thought of that. THEY HAVE. The gag with the second time Joker takes over Gotham IN THIS FUCKING SHOW ALONE is . . . He's actually a really good mayor. Gotham is a perpetual capitalist nightmare shithole of a city. The most insane, radical anarchist thing for The Joker to do is . . . Be a socialist who actually gives a shit about the small folk. That's the joke, Lily. That's the joke. That's the mother fucking JOKE. THE FUNNY HAHA, THERE IT IS LILY. I FUCKING EXPLAINED IT TO YOU.

And Lilian. The Joker being at his most normal and stable while he has a family. Is. A. Direct. Parody. Of. One. Of. The. Most. FAMOUS. BATMAN STORIES. EVER. WRITTEN.

SHE IS LITERALLY FUCKING SHOWING THE EPISODE WHERE THEY DIRECTLY VISUALLY REFERENCE THE KILLING JOKE ON SCREEN. LILY YOU'RE GOING TO GIVE ME A FUCKING HERNIA.

-10:10: Lily calls Sam Raimi a "douchebag."

Fuck right off.

-10:25: "It's a return to wacky hijinks that uses to define The Joker back when he was a gangster in funny makeup."

NO IT ISN'T LILY.

-11:00: Lily bitches about Harley Quinn for the 7 minutes in the remaining runtime.

Okay, the play-by-play is over, I'm going to address this section all at once because it will be quicker and more comprehensive if I do. This is the point where all the aformentioned pins come in.

Though I'm going to have to be ignoring some bullshit Lily says here in order to stay focused, I will mention first, Lily doesn't seem to realize Batfleck and Nolan's Batman were MASSIVE departures from the comics and don't pull much from the storylines. I don't think that's nessesarily a bad thing, even though I'm not the biggest fan of either of those interpretations, but for the record-- no. Those adaptations have almost nothing to do with Year one, The Dark Night Returns, The Killing Joke, or The Long Halloween outside of superficial elements. Lily just googled "famous Batman comics" and picked the four she probably vaguely heard of before. Again, she didn't even recognize the in-your-face impossible to miss Killing Joke parody episode she used as footage for this video. SHE'S JUST PRETENDING SHE'S READ COMICS SHE HASN'T.

Now to the point:

Lily's rational for not liking Harley's portrayal in the Harley Quinn show is honest to god brain damage. I'm not even sure how hard I need to go into explaining this because . . . It's pointing at the text itself and calling it a flaw. Harley's entire journey as a person is TRYING TO DISCOVER WHO SHE IS outside of the toxic codependency she had with the Joker. Her arc is both a meta commentary on the nature of the character conceptually and her journey to redefine herself. THIS ISN'T FUCKING SUBTLE. THIS IS STATED IN THE SHOW. Harley's identity crisis over whether or not she's even a villan anymore STARTS IN SEASON 3. Harley's lack of inhibition is what DRIVES THE PLOT IN SEASON 2. Harley's struggles to emancipat herself IS THE PLOT OF THE FIRST FUCKING EPISODE. This is also honestly the ONLY DC property I can think of that actually bothers to do something with the fact that Harley is a psychologist. Almost on that basis alone, it's one of the most refreshing takes on the character. That actually means something when I say it, because I've actually read a fucking comic in my life. LILY WHAT FUCKING DIMENSION DO YOU SLIP INTO ANY TIME YOU SIT DOWN TO WATCH A SHOW.

That question is rhetorical-- Lily tells on herself several times throughout this video. Remember those pins? Go read em again. Lily identifies with Ivy, so Lily decided Ivy is the "real" main character-- and wants Harley to be Ivy's loving kissy huggy gf. She genuinely thinks the show is actively making a mistake anytime her smut ship fanfic is interrupted. Lily wants porn. LILY YEARNS FOR THE PORN, ALWAYS. Every single fucking time.

She's decided Ivy has done nothing wrong to create tension in the relationship. She has deemed the character flaws Harley has that creates tension in the relationship a mistake in the writing.

Because Lily has not actually read a comic, but probably has seen Batman: The Animated Series-- she's missed all of the other references and spoofs in the show except for the ones involving Harley. That was the show she was originally created in.

Case-fucking-closed. Water is wet, the sky is blue, and Lily Orchard is talking out of her ass.

Kill my parents and call me the world's greatest detective, I guess.

[oatmealdaydreams]

Black Hole Fantasy: even in my fantasy, I keep the car running / in case I need to take off

Please let me know if ya wanna be added on or taken off the general taglist!

Part 2

Inspired By Works: the Shifter Stan AU made by @the-east-art! Check out her stuff, it's super good. Shout out to East!

Pairing: Stan Pines & Ford Pines, gen

Warnings: Homelessness, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse

Summary: Back when he first leaves New Jersey, Stanley Pines discovers something new about himself on the streets. It’s dark, and there’s hardly anyone else on the road as he drives in the rough terrain of Mount Tammany. He figures out a little comfort when he can’t stop thinking about how his brother’s doing.

[Masterlist] | ao3 link

[read under the cut]

Midnight skies have always been beautiful with twinkling stars and darkened clouds, but Stan Pines does not have time for anything beautiful. 

The soft rumble of his car—the Stanleymobile, the El Diablo—helps keep him awake at the wheel. Various failed products are scattered in the back, alongside whatever spare clothes he has in his dufflebag. There’s even a spare suit for when he tries doing this door-to-door salesman gig over in Pennsylvania. He’s gotta keep a bright-colored winning smile for any potential customers, so he has a couple of makeshift suits to match it. This is the seventies, after all. Or is it the eighties? Whatever, doesn’t matter. He’s got this new idea for a cheap bandaid deal that’s sure to make some dough. Stan’s…starting to run low on gas again, nevermind the fact he’s not sure when his next meal will be. There’s probably some joint on the roadside he can steal some shit from. Pennsylvania is a new adventure. 

Banned from New Jersey, huh? Well, it isn’t like he has much to stay for. His Pa ain’t too fond of him. His Ma can only do so much with Pa still around. His brother…Stan shakes his head lightly as he turns a corner. In the dark of night, the shrubs and trees surrounding the roadside look more menacing. It doesn’t help the fact that there’s not really any railing out where he drives. Maybe there’s more of it up the mountainside or something. He hopes so, at least. Stan hates driving so high up like that. It feels as though he may plummet if he makes too sharp a turn. 

He tries the radio, having to smack it a few times to get it to work. Turning the dial, the stations flicker through bullshit talk shows and half-crackling static. He growls, shutting it off. Ain’t like he’d hear much of any music anyway, what, with the way his ears hurt from the pressure up in the mountains. Moses, he hates driving through Mount Tammany. He’s not doing this again. It’s not like he can come back to Jersey without some repercussions, anyhow. 

Something sad, empty, somber settles in his chest. He can’t return to Glass Shard Beach ever again. Not to his Pa’s face; he kicked him out. Not to his Ma’s face; he’ll disappoint her. Not to his brother’s face. Not…yeah. Maybe it’s best if he doesn’t return for a long while. At least, until he has a fortune to appease his Pa. He’s gotta make something of his sorry self, y’know. Make ‘em all proud and shit. Like a good son would. And, well, though he’s never claimed to be a good anything, there’s this stubborn hope that he can find a way to fix things. Make ‘em better. He can hide the less tasteful sides of himself if it means seeing his family again. 

Stan may be a dumbass, but he knows something’s wrong with him. Normal people can’t grow an extra finger at will. Normal people don’t shapeshift like they’re some weirdo from those books Sixer used ta read. 

Does he still read those? Or has he moved to all that college junk where he reads a bunch of nonsense textbooks? Y’know, with all those equations and nerd words and everything? 

Stan focuses on the road. 

It’s empty out here. Crickets and cicadas keep the ambience not so creepy-like. There’s no one out here. It’s just Stan and the Stanleymobile. Stan and Stan. Just…Stan. 

He doubts anyone’s gonna care if he neglects to use his blinker a few times. The brights on the car don’t work too well, so it ain’t like his lights will blind something. He swears they keep making brighter and brighter lights on cars these days. Someone’s oughta crash in a ditch from it eventually. 

Ford always complained about the lack of brights on the El Diablo. ‘What if it’s dark and you’re stranded, Stanley?’ he’d say, ‘What are you going to do if it comes down to you being on your own? What if there’s no one to help you?’ Kind of ironic, actually. Was he some future-seeing weirdo? Heh, imagine, his brother, some superhero who could see the future. Stan wonders if he’d have warned him if he saw what would happen. If he knew, would he’ve told him? Tried an’ helped him figure some shit out?

Ugh, he needs to stop thinkin’ about all this! 

Stan doesn’t need to glance down at his hands to know a sixth finger grows on them. 

Fuck, he thinks as he pulls over on a little lookout thing meant for resting travelers or sightseers. Fucking Christ almighty. 

He stops the car, not wanting to waste gas. Taking his hands off the wheel, Stan glances down at them with a huff. Yeah, he was right. A sixth finger on each hand, just the way it is on his brother’s. Maybe if Stan wore glasses on his face, they’d truly be hard to tell apart. He’d look all nerdy and…like Ford. He’d look like his brother. 

His throat’s dry. He has to swallow down whatever’s prickling his eyes. Stan isn’t gonna cry. That’s not—he’s not gonna get all weepy over hands. 

He’s not.

He’s not. 

He’s…

Shit.

Stan ignores the way a few stubborn tears glide down his face. He ignores the way his breath hitches at the thought of his brother. He ignores the thrumming, buzzing emptiness that grows a pit in his chest. It feels grey. It feels like static. It hurts in a way that doesn’t bleed. It hurts. He can feel that pit surge when he tries to take a fucking breath. It doesn’t help much. Stan just stares all teary-like down at his stupid hands as he clenches and unclenches them. He shifts one back to its typical five-fingered form. With shaking hands, he intertwines them. One six, one five—just like it used ta be. He grips his hands tighter as he lets out the first cry. Stan shuts his eyes and tips his hand back against the headrest. If he looks down at his hands for any longer, he’ll break. He can’t break. He can’t let himself break. 

Outside the car windows is a dark, starry sky that twinkles. 

Somewhere in a last-ditch-effort type of university, a six-fingered student watches the same stars.

Taglist: @lost-in-thought-20 @thegoldenduckie @not-sure-what-im-feeling

[mylittlesecrethaven]

I'm Dumb For Just Now Noticing This: Ace

This is just gonna go over how the event uniforms look similar to the dorm uniforms. Nothing fancy. I may get shit wrong. (Also, the events are going to be major events, not birthdays and cooking stuff. Sorry. (Also, I'm only doing events that work with the dorm uniforms, if that makes sense. So some events may be ommited)) (I will be doing overblot forms for overblotters)

Reference image! Our main factors coming from this is the color scheme, the heart theming, and his little ribbon. (Kind of)

The only differentiating thing that ties into his dorm uniform is the color scheme with the shoes and wrist guards.

Kinda on the nose with the color scheme (as always). The plaid pattern could be referencing the checkered one on his dorm uniform, but that's just a shot in the dark. He has a ribbon, which I think he's the only one to have a ribbon, and that's similar to his Heartslabyul ribbon on his dorm uniform. Said ribbon on this outfit also has a heart.

There's really only one thing in this that's specifically linked to Ace's dorm uniform, and that's the heart decoration in his chest. Other than that, can't really see much.

So Ace got a ton more love than Cater did.

Kinda mad about that.

But it's fine.

Next one comes out soon I hope.

[sadie-bug345]

dallas winston’s last chance for change

this is a little less goofy as my usual shit but i just wanted to talk about dally and so called “last chance for change” characters.

this kinda feeds into my pet peeve of seeing the gang with “stay gold” somewhere nearby cause the saying “stay gold” jus doesn’t apply to everyone. it strictly applies to ponyboy cause he is the only one STILL gold😭😭like do yall understand the quote

anyways i been reading the book How to Read Lit like a Professor for school which sometimes is helpful but other than that its honestly kinda annoying to read ngl. in a recent chapter, the author referenced a short story and mentioned how one character in that, among many in the world of books, is a “last chance for change” typa guy

and like we do with hyperfixations, i was like hmmmm how can i relate this to THE OUTSIDERS👹 and i was like oh duh this is so dally winston lana del rey vinyl coded

anyways the author and said professor of the book says “the character, sufficiently old to have experienced a number of opportunities to grow, to reform, to get it right, but of course he never has, is presented with one more chance, one last opportunity to educate himself in this most important area…”

blah blah blah

if that aint dallas tucker winston, idk what is. another quote from that godforsaken book is as follows: “the reason hes older is just the opposite of why the quester is typically younger: his possibilities for growth are limited and time is running out”

ive always thought about how dallas cant change for the better all thru the book up until the church. and i think dallas did know that helping people does a lot of good. his whole blowup at the end where he dies is cause he cant deal with change in general. he could always trust that the gang would be there for him but the second stuff starts getting messed up, he goes wacko

pony could deal with loss and grief and trauma to the best of his ability (well, better than dally💀) cause he had a built in support system with his brothers. dallas had no one to call family by blood so he chose his friends.

dallas in general couldnt handle the conflicting expectations placed on him by society so he did everything in his power to defy them and have some sort of control in causing chaos.

he was really just put in a pressure cooker his whole life and he just ended up digging himself deeper and deeper into his own grave.

sometimes death is easier than dealing with yourself.

THAT WAS DARK UHM ANYWAYS REQUEST GOOFY OR ROMANTIC OR PLATONIC HCS OR IMAGINES OR ANYTHING IDRK OK BYE🥰🫶

[bcolfanfic]

could we hear more about side b poly ev/helen/jean

ohohoh you sure can!!!

el dorado is side a and the lil helen jamie scene i posted is referencing some stuff happening when helen was staying with her after nash died and croz cheated. but ah. side b.

- croz ): god. my heart. sweet boy. you shoulda called someone. your girl and your beautiful kids needed you ):

- after the funeral ev and helen more or less move jeanie and the kids into their house

- it’s supposed to be temporary, they just don’t want her to be her alone. her family and croz’s folks are both unsupportive. their kids get along and *they* love her so. it’ll be good. temporarily. (:

- except they play real fast and loose with temporary and 6 months go by and she’s still there and sleeping in their bed more frequently and nothing *happens* but her being in there safe with them just makes sense.

- side b helen and jeanie have the same history they do in side a so i think shit happens between them first. and it’s not something anyone really blinks much about. they’re best friends. it was comforting when it was helen with the dead husband. ev certainly doesn’t care.

- but ev. ev ev ev. ev, who has more or less been parenting the crosby kids the last almost year. ev, who holds little baby simon and prays that he remembers his dad’s face. ev who sits up with jj and rebecca when they can’t sleep and tells them stories about croz and sleeps on the floor when april is scared of the dark.

- ev who hasn’t ever been hesitant to kiss jeanie on the head when she’s having a bad day with everything and tell her she’s a good mom. tell her that croz would be so proud of her and that /he’s/ proud of her.

- of course she falls in love with him. who wouldn’t.

- but realizing that obviously scares the shit out of her and there’s a whole lot of projection bickering for a minute.

- snaps at him for disciplining rebecca telling him she’s not /his/ child and that maybe he’s getting his role here confused. but he kinda snaps back and is like if the kids are under my roof, i’m gonna do what croz would when they’re acting out. you’re welcome to leave if you don’t like it!

- he’s projecting from a place of Feeling things too <\3

- jeanie snaps back all ohhh so you’re kicking me out, i’m so sorry for interrupting your PERFECT little life with your wife. you two can get back to what you were doing then and i’ll go.

- starts getting choked up which breaks ev’s heart because he’s like ): i don’t want you to leave if you don’t want to leave. but you’ve been at my throat lately and you gotta be honest about where this is coming from. if you live here, we communicate like adults.

- and she gets spooked and bolts upstairs <\3

- helen coming back from the store just in time to hear the bedroom door slam: 😁😄😀😧 ?????

- is immediately ev what did you do and he’s like ???!? throws his hands up all hell if i know! (you do know ev lmao you also need to communicate)

this is getting long but i can continue in another post if ppl are interested !

[300iqprower]

Ya know SMTIV, what this is actually perfect. Remember what I said about how Nasu could never be asked to show even a modicum of respect to Tezctalipoca as a figure, and how the "Tezcatlipoca" in FGO in no way has the spirit of their alleged origins?

Well I don't care much for this design either.

In fact I don't like SMT's (or more specifically Soejima's, who is still very much talented as I'll make clear) Tezcatlipoca design at all. I personally find it ugly and having an aesthetic I'm not that fond of, particularly the sort of "Bigfoot sighting" pose he has going on.

But i don't hate it, and I certainly am not morally opposed to it like FGO's, because even if I personally dislike it, ya know what it is? It's still undeniably based on Tezcatlipoca and keeps that spirit in several ways evident through design alone, let alone the way he's implemented into the game itself. It's a design that feels like it respects the culture it's taking its name from, and I'd much rather it do that than have an aesthetic I'm more fond of but lack any representation of its source material.

Just on a surface level you can see the ways in which this is meant to be Tez.

Holding a human heart with one arm, which were sacrificed to him in Aztec rituals

His body is visibly black and navy blue and made of a stony substance, which is a reference to the association many aztec gods but especially Tez had with obsidian rock, and the main symbol of Tez is an obsidian mirror.

Despite this, his other arm and legs are dissolving into smoke at the end, which is a reference to his main title of Smoking Mirror.

His skull-like head is pretty clearly meant to invokes a Calavera, which even if you didnt know the name of you've probably seen if you've ever witnessed a Day of the Dead festival.

That's all just the surface level stuff. There's plenty more if you know to look for it.

While one of his arms is visible, neither of his legs are, which fits with how Tezcatlipoca lost at least one of his legs to the giant crocodile Cipactli when the world was created

While blue isn't the primary color Tez is associated with, the use of teal/navy blue specifically fits with how he was often depicted with an almost interchangeable combination of grey-ish dark blue and black.

Despite my "bigfoot posture" remark, it very much fits Tezcatlipoca, whose spirit animal was the Jaguar, an animal well known for stalking and ambushing prey (rather than chasing it down like African big cats are known to do).

the way the smoke curls around as if forming an extremely distorted prosthetic foot matches how Tez's missing foot is specifically portrayed in the Codex Yohualli Ehécatl (AKA, the source of the image on Tez's wikipedia page), particularly with how the coloring shifts to orange-yellow at the end.

The most shaky but still worth noting claim: The emphasis on the blood flowing from the heart, combined with the gems embedded in Tez's head, could even be a reference to the Ezpitzal, which while looking very different in mesoamerican art still is no doubt connected, given how the key traits are flowing blood and embedding precious stone in [a crown above] the head.

So....do I like this design? No, personally, not really. I'm way too much of an edgelord to settle for such a toned down and subtle design for a figure like Tezcatlipoca.

Do I respect this design? Absolutely, zero question. It's the kind of design you could never get if they didn't at least TRY to research Tezcatlipoca, let alone do so well (at least i can only assume well based on the result). That's the difference between this design and "some white guy from the GAP who likes guns". You can tell they gave a shit, not just in general but specifically in regards to the culture being referenced.

(Oh, and also unlike FGO Tezcatlipoca, I don't need to be told "someone famous drew it" to be able to figure out someone talented drew it. )

[larena]

Wanted to try ranking SWTOR class stories in order of "importance" - how relevant they are to the games overarching ongoing storyline, based on factors like how often aspects of them come up in other class stories, or elsewhere in the story, how easily they flow into the expansions, how important their companions end up being later, etc.

Jedi Knight: This one's undeniable, I think. It's basically the main plot class. Knight kills Vitiate first, deals with a lot of the more important problems on most of the planets they go to. And Kira, Scourge, and T7 all get main character status in the expansions regardless of your class.

Imperial Agent: This one is a tossup with Sith Warrior for me. I can see arguments for either, but Agent wins out imo just because of how far-reaching the Star Cabal is, and, maybe somewhat paradoxically, how relevant *other* class stories are to its story. Kaliyo and especially SCORPIO also end up being pretty important in the expansions, as well as a few other Agent companions and NPCs.

Sith Warrior: You are literally the Emperor's Wrath. The class with the closest direct connection to the Emperor, besides maybe Knight. Again its a tossup for me whether Warrior or Agent are the "A" plot for the Empire storyline, but the Wrath almost single handedly reignites the war for Darth Baras. As well as being a fairly close acquaintance of one of Vitiate's potential successors, Vowrawn. Vette also ends up being fairly important in the expansions, though not as much since Eternal Throne.

Jedi Consular: The Children of the Emperor have only recently become very, very relevant again, and we don't fully know where that plot is going, but I think thats still a compelling argument to put Consular relatively high. None of their companions have been super relevant post-class story besides Nadia on Ossus, but the Rift Alliance does end up feeling like a precursor to the Eternal Alliance, to me.

Sith Inquisitor: This may feel low for Inquisitor, given they become a Dark Council Member but honestly they don't do that much. They're somewhat responsible for the Dark Temple being Like That in the other class stories, and the Silencer Fleet is somewhat important, as well as Moff Pyron. But none of their companions are relevant anywhere else and I don't think the events of their class story are referenced anywhere except some passing name drops of Darth Thanaton. I could realistically rank them lower, but again, they ARE on the Dark Council.

Bounty Hunter: Honestly the remaining three tech classes are hard to rank. But I think BH gets a lot of credit for technically allowing Saresh to rise to power. And not for nothing, a lot of their companions have been relevant in expansions, especially Torian recently. You only get a *lot* of the earlier Mando stuff through BH, which I think also counts for something.

Trooper: I think Trooper mainly gets points for Jorgan being a main character in Fallen Empire. They do a lot of stuff that *feels* important, and General Garza, Rakton, and the Bastion come up elsewhere, but it never feels like there's much impact from the Trooper story overall.

Smuggler: I mean what can I say. I love the Smuggler storyline, and Nok Drayen *is* a member of the Star Cabal, but none of this shit mattered lol. Which is totally thematically appropriate imo, it's at least meant to be a pretty personal story with personal stakes. At least everyone can meet Akaavi and Guss in the expansions.

[justworthlessreblogs]

if yuo could rewrite noir how would you do it

great question, anon!

as i've mentioned before, i think noir has the makings of being a really good, threatening villain. especially in regards to. yknow. the child manipulation and multiple counts of (probable? we never see those generals alive in canon) murder. he's a literal gaslight gatekeep (not girlboss). unfortunately i think the series drops the ball a little by... not really acknowledging his crimes? gonna get on my soapbox for a hot second but i think it's a little wild especially considering the narrative (rightfully) calls out rio for what he did, but the main villain gets treated with complete and utter sympathy despite the Literal Child Murder.

so, if i could rewrite noir:

he's the final boss. no elisio takeover - while i do think the elisio takeover is a decent idea, in execution it's poor because we don't get enough of noir to really make him feel like a genuine big bad. the elisio takeover also robs us of a full noir & lumiere confrontation, which sucks because their conflict is the entire reason for the series! i want actual resolution, damn it!

either get rid of the incel shit entirely or make fun of him for it like god intended. the incel stuff makes him come off as pathetic in my eyes, but the narrative wants you to sympathize with him for it, which i think is dumb. also don't like the implications that lumiere thinks it's her fault for saying no! she did nothing wrong free my girl from feeling responsible for the actions of a manchild. if i got rid of the incel shit i'd just give him a backstory similar to those of his generals - he felt incredibly alone and rejected by the world, stumbled across some dark power, and decided to use it to lash out. enter lumiere, who decides to stop him after he decides ichigozaka is his first target (maybe he's from there too?). not quite sure how to fit sweets into this - maybe he was a baker whose bakery failed or something? idk i'm coming up with this as i reply maybe i'll workshop it later

have him show up more! this is part of why the elisio twist doesn't fully work for me, which i referenced above. noir is barely a presence in the series that at points he feels nonexistent. so show the generals meeting with him more or something, idk. however don't have him show up to shoot ciel because him manifesting in the real world made me go "why the fuck isn't he doing this all the time then"

no noirlumi toxic romance bullshit. ew. no. get away from her

acknowledge his crimes PLEASE for the love of god acknowledge his crimes. i love redemption arcs and choosing the peace option typically but like. this man has done too many crimes to get off with a slap on the wrist. please for the love of god make him confront the consequences of his actions!!!! also no reincarnation ik i said i was ambivalent on it before but i've shifted to disliking it the more i think about it because it ensures that noir gets away with everything. reincarnation noir has no idea what his past self did. i want that man to realize what he's done and how stupid he is

[fiberglassandflowers]

Hey idk if there’s some master post about mbts but if there is may I please ask where and if not could I perhaps humbly request a description because it sounds cool as FUCK

omg yayy okay so there's not a masterpost as of now (though there is a google doc in the works that will probably be. very big) BUT i will try to give a brief rundown. underneath a readmore 👍

OK SO. IN SUMMARY

MARY BELL TOWNSHIP: more like mary bell CLOWNSHIT ha ha. heavy surveillance like everywhere (including in peoples homes. how fun). it's also got some like radiation stuff going on. all the residents are a lil radiation poisoned But it's mostly fine. also the town moves and i dont know why.

VANNIE OVERTURE: based on suburbia overture. the mayor who is a vampire. major control freak. sucks shit. like most of the reason mary bell is the way it is. permasmile swag. has killed before. hates when people are weird freaks and is actively passive aggressive if not outright aggressive.

TRIP LETWO: based on 2econd 2ight 2eer. world's silliestguy contrarian and infamous public nuisance. deeply tortured individual but shes dealing with it i guess. physically cant leave mary bell township. he has too much goddamn lore

LYDIE LAPLACE: based on laplace's angel. so lame. just deeply lame. killed a guy and got kicked out of office building heaven (laplace's inc. id give this its own section but it doesnt really matter all that much). i dont ever think about it unfortunately im sorry women.

MINA BYRD: based on i/me/myself. very sweet very nice. ladybugpilled socialanxietycel. doesnt have a whole lot going on but she is nice im glad shes there. im gonna have a significant relationships section of this but im saying that shes roommates with lia here bc its not really significant otherwise

WALTER LEE: based on ...well, better than the alternative. worlds first cis father to be a butch lesbian. probably a girl but she doesnt know that. weird nostalgia issues so bad his wife left him.

DOTTY LEE: ten years old. strange little girl but i dont really think about it a lot. not much else to say about her really.

LIA CRATES: based on outliars and hyppocrates. her name is pronounced like lie-uh cray-tees not lee-ah crayts. i have to clear this up because i realized most people were wrong LMAO. a little mean but not so much when you get to know her.

WARREN LEARY: based on blackboxwarrior. actually the worst therapist you will EVER meet. isnt even licensed. you book a session with her and she only talks about herself the entire time. constantly referencing a dark and contradictory past.

MARSHA TILLIS: based on marsha, thankk you for the dialectics. slightly better therapist! still not that good. has the spirit of an old man despite being in his 40s. will begin to psychoanalyze your behavior upon the first thirty seconds of knowing you.

NORMAN LEE: based on love, me normally. guy trying really really hard to be a regular guy. has a loooot of problems that stem from this. hugest people pleaser the world has ever known. a little bit offputting. has hair symbolism :-)

MORTIMER: based on memento mori. doesn't have a last name. worlds silliest grim reaper death thing. works in the death division for laplace's inc. lived a pretty normal life. then it died :-(. more here

FERN O'DYNAMIC: based on thermodynamic lawyer. hates his bitch wife (who is a praying mantis for. unknown reasons? will elaborate). just has a lot of anger inside him and doesnt know how to deal with it so he takes it out on other people. he kind of sucks but he's a neat character.

MIRANDA WRIGHT: the person being sung about in thermodynamic lawyer. bug wife (i can blame anything on radiation). she wasnt always a bug she just kinda did that idk. there's not much about her but she's an etymologist.

COTARD LETWO: based on cotard's solution. she has so many problems oh my gooood. deeply lonely person. fascinated with the macabre. its like coping mechanism that makes you worse. im insane about her writing a basic description is so difficult fkdjsfhsjd

RAMONA MCLAREN: based on red moon + hand me my shovel (though the latter was included later on bc it fit her). worlds most intelligent and stupid single celled organism. patheticswag. absolutely batshit insane. attempting to solve the end of the world.

KUIPER SUNSHINE: based on dr sunshine is dead. uh. i dont really know much about her to be honest SORRY... its really silly though + haver of prophetic dreams that she is NOT transparent about. fucks with people a lot just for funsies

COLIN THESIER: based on cover this song. girl who used to be in a band but got kicked out bc of friend drama. survivor of a toxic codependent queer friendship. trying to be a better person bc she used to suck pretty bad unfortunately. a bit more here

theres like a couple more characters but none of them are really important enough to give their own sections. debbie letwo is trip and cotards mom, laplace is the head of laplace's inc, maude is walter's ex wife who left him (heres the scoop on that).

OK NOTABLE CHARACTER DYNAMICS TIME:

VANNIE/NORMAN: norman has been pretending to be a normal dude this whole time + vannie totally fell for it. normans stuck in this friendship bc hes too much of a people pleaser to break it off even though vannie actively drains him emotionally. also he feels validated by vannie thinking hes normal. its so awful im so insane about their dynamic

VANNIE/TRIP: THEY HAAAATE EACH OTHER. their entire core beliefs are at odds (guy who thinks everyone should do their best to conform vs. guy who loves being a weird freak and doing fuck all). their dynamic is honestly pretty simple in comparison but theyre so petty and stupid its insane. if you put them alone in the same room one of them isnt coming out

TRIP/NORMAN: theyre gay together. there's a weird lore thing about the way relationships are handled in mary bell but long story short theres paperwork that has to be filled out if you want to be registered for one and trip thinks its really funny for xem and norman to constantly break up so they'll have to fill out the paperwork because it fucks with vannie. theyre also kind of awful and tragic

WALTER/DOTTY: that is a father and his daughter. walters trying his best and hes doing well but nothing would have been better than just moving out of mary bell township to raise his child.

WALTER/NORMAN: they’re brothers 👍 not much else to say there but they’re cool

WALTER/MAUDE: already linked a more in-depth explanation of their deal but ill summarize it here. maude thought living in mary bell township was really bad for a child (and it is) but since walter has issues about idealizing his childhood he was like "whaaat well i was raised here and im fine" and they fought about it and once it became clear walter wasnt changing his mind maude figured shed just spare herself from all of it. so she left 💯

WARREN/MARSHA: what if the two worst therapists ever were queerplatonic and violated hipaa together. also what if one of them [marsha] was helping the other [warren] because they're on the run from the law. would that be crazy or what

FERN/MIRANDA: actually awful. they really want to divorce but trip and norman keep clogging up the paperwork so theyre on a waiting list forever. their relationship was really good at one point but its not anymore :-( more info here

NORMAN/FERN: fern haaates norman because of the previously mentioned paperwork debacle but normans ass cant deal with the thought of anyone disliking him so hes just been really trying to get on his good side to no avail. also theyre coworkers so its more relevant

MORTIMER/TRIP: man how do i even summarize this one. due to lore reasons that you can read about in the link provided in trips session they have a super weird dynamic present day. or at least on trips end, mortimer is just super friendly to them and it wigs her out.

TRIP/COTARD: OUGUIGHJ. AOAUYFGDSFHSJ. tragic sibliiings. man i dont even know if i can go into this. go here and here if you want to learn more about them. jesus

COTARD/COLIN: frienndsss :-] classic extrovert forcing themselves into introverts life trope a little bit. they play music together and its great. mina's also in their little group but the two of them are closer

KUIPER/RAMONA: have been described by my friend as being "nonromantic freak4freak" and this is true. theyre working together on the end of the world stuff. they also rope cotard into it but thats lore i havent talked much about yet. go here and here for more info about them.

that might??????? be it?????? if there's more ill update it but thats the general basics i think. thank you for being interested and hopefully reading i greatly appreciate it :-)

[trash-king18]

m pt. 8

suprise! miguel’s pov of the last few weeks because.. i wanted to. and at this point in the story everything’s uncertain between him and the reader so it seemed like the perfect point to interject a little bit of his perspective. hope y’all enjoy it

cw: swearing, slight angst ig, mentions of everything in previous parts but nothings written out so still sfw

————

miguel would never say it 

but the past few months had been absolutely torturous for him. 

when you first arrived you were the most infuriating person he’d ever met. 

you were insubordinate, always pushing boundaries when it came to the tests you were running and the experiments you wanted to try,

you talked back, never once would you just do what he asked without giving you attitude about it

you called him out on anything and everything, in front of other people too. 

when he’d throw things if they weren’t small enough that you just caught them, you’d just look disappointed and he felt like he had just broken something and his mama was about to tell him off. 

you’d make fun of him too. in the lab mostly but you never missed a chance to tease him for his “brooding” 

and when he’d mutter in spanish which normally allowed him the last word, you’d give it right back perfectly fluent with that brooklyn accent. 

you would call him bichó/or bichito under your breath thinking he couldn’t hear which to him meant bug/little bug which was annoying enough referencing him being a “spider person” but he eventually realized in puerto rican spanish it meant you were calling him a dick. 

and to top it off you were distracting. you were gorgeous, your long dark hair, amber eyes, soft brown skin, the scent. he could smell you the second you came anywhere near him, not just the perfume but the smell of you, the pheromones. you walked around like you owned the place, and you were perfectly nice to everyone else but him? no of course not. you had to question everything he said,  every theory every hypothesis. and the worst part? you were normally right, or at least more right than he had been. 

the extractions and infusions were the worst. it was just to two of you in that back room and you took absolutely no shit from him there. as easy as it’d be to just get up and walk out all you had to do was look at him with those honey eyes and he felt stuck to the chair. that’s why he had started calling you cariño, honey, the first time it was more a slip of the tongue. switching between languages was normal for you two and one day you were particularly pissing him off and he had said 

“Ay, estás tan amargada hoy cariño”

you are so sour today honey, 

he thought he was being funny, but when he noticed how much it had gotten under your skin he started calling you that all the time. always teasing of course, just when you were in a sour mood or he wanted to piss you off, until recently. 

he would complain to Lyla about you, absolutely seething after every interaction. but as the only person he couldn’t throw stuff at lyla had some leeway when it came to telling miguel what he didn’t want to hear. 

“Perhaps you dislike her so much.. because she’s just like you.”

“What? no. she is not. 

She’s impudent, moody, self serious.. and she won’t let anyone tell her what to do”

“sounds like you.”

he gives her an exasperated look. 

“she’s also extremely intelligent, meticulous, and a workaholic. it’s why i hired her”

she gives him an accusatory look. 

“alright fine fine i get it.” 

“however you feel about her miguel, you need her, and she’s not going anywhere so you might as well try to get along.”

“me? tell her that.”

she just waves him off. 

“night boss.” 

but after a while, he begrudgingly realized he was enjoying your interactions.

you could handle whatever insults or bad mood he threw your way on the fly, and you both did it with intellectual arguments as well. it was invigorating to have someone who could keep up with him. you always knew what he was talking about in the lab, and when it came to the multiverse theory he had barely gotten a minute into explaining before you started filling in the blanks. he still didn’t like you though, or at least he told himself that. he couldn’t. 

he became slightly more tolerable after you had finally figured out the formula for the infusions. they kept the throwing shit to a minimum, although you hadn’t figured out a way to get rid of the sass. you spent less time together then, just extractions infusions and the occasional blood panels, not like at the beginning when he was always hovering. watching you run the tests, trying out new formulas, explaining his dna to you like it wasn’t your whole job to understand it and use it to make his treatment. 

you had double majored in genetics, animal as well as human which is why you were the perfect one for this job. 

but recently, your arguments were more heated and more frequent, but less necessary. you two fought about everything and normally you’d walk off seething but forget about it until the next. but you were up in each others faces, shouting loud enough everyone could hear you. so when he came into your lab for an extraction, things started off tense. you seemed extra tired and he had missed his infusion so he felt himself ready to tip over the edge at any provocation. 

the quips and teasing along with you, just the presence of you, was making it hard to sit still. but he knew acting on anything when he was like this was not smart. 

until you climbed on top of him. he couldn’t help that has hands instinctively wanted to hold you there. and the way you leaned over him just holding his face and tugging his lips, it took everything to just sit. he masked it with annoyance but that ended up not working out well either. 

when you finally removed the vials from his mouth a flash of.. multiple emotions took over. he remembered grabbing you, holding you in place, but when he leaned closer, smelling you closer than you’d ever been before, the spider dna was winning out. he could see what happened from then until he left the office, but it felt more like he was watching it on a tv screen. but what he had played over and over in his mind was the little sound you made when he ran his teeth over your neck, and what you said

eres tan hermoso

you had called him beautiful, not handsome, not infuriating or stupid or immature like usual 

beautiful. 

it shocked him. and it was enough to help snap him out of it momentarily. 

but he hadn’t stopped thinking about it. 

the rest of what happened next was all him, he wanted to test, see how you would respond to him. 

he didn’t want to pull away but he didn’t trust himself in that moment. 

but then the next night you showed up at his apartment, hair down, not in work clothes 

pushing your way into his home, back to acting as insubordinate as normal. 

so everything was mostly fine, except that you were in his house which he wasn’t exactly a fan of.. for multiple reasons. 

the iv was starting, you were being annoying. you we’re about to leave, but 

then you had asked if he was ok. not to tease him, not because he was being a grump, you just genuinely seemed worried. 

and he invited you to stay and eat. technically you were supposed to stay and monitor infusions anyway so no harm no foul. 

but then you started messing with the food, and that would not stand. he let his guard down, a mistake, he felt himself actually enjoy talking to you for a moment. it was just food, until you bring up your family. a sore point for him but he detected some pain in it, something he was familiar with. he asked but you immediately shut down and started rushing out the door. 

he probably should’ve let you leave but he felt a twinge of guilt. he of all people knew better than to ask, and.. he didn’t really want you to. 

you were upset, and pretty, and… here. he was gentle, which he could see made you feel even more uncomfortable since it was abnormal. but he wanted to help, not the spider, just him. 

but seeing you stand so close, so small, giving him attitude as per usual wound him up again. 

when you say his name, as agitated as it sounds, it’s like a drug. 

he just wanted to hear it again. 

fuck. 

when he woke up, it was early about 4. he was on the couch, you were gone. the IV was back in his arm, you clearly hadn’t just left but there was no sign you stuck around after putting it in. he notices a slip of paper on the coffee table. 

he doesn’t know what he hoped it would say but it wasn’t asking him to come for blood tests. 

he was confused, frustrated, maybe a little disappointed but he wouldn’t admit it. and nothing helped with that better than a mission. 

He called lyla asking for an update on one particular anomaly that had been evading them for a while. he didn’t even let himself think about it he just got ready suited up and was already in another dimension. 

he ended up filling his schedule with as many missions as possible the next three weeks, barely stepping foot in HQ, because when he did he saw you. and he didn’t know what to say to you. he could see you were frustrated with him, you’d walk past without looking at him, but instead of talking to you he’d just put another work thing on his to do list. 

that was until he was working late logging the last mission and jess and peter b stumble into the building with a very off balance, very drunk, you. 

he knew how he handled it wasn’t fair, but it worried him. he felt over protective of you now, after what had happened between you, especially because you weren’t a spider person. 

he didn’t give you a choice when he took you home that night. he was at least going to make sure you ended up in your bed instead of somewhere else you shouldn’t be. that wasn’t even necessarily about you, that was just the right thing to do. although the bath, and the clothes.. and the cooking might have been a bit much. he knew it was but he felt like he needed to make up the last few weeks to you. 

you didn’t see it that way though. you resisted every gesture, every word that came out of his mouth. 

he was about to leave but he heard some things fall and he knew you wouldn’t be happy about it but he at least had to check.

son solo buenos modales, his mother would say 

it’s just good manners 

he found you on the floor with a number of things that had spilled off the shelf next to you. he went to help you up but you’d swatted him away. 

he tried to make you let him help, at least listen but you just ended up getting in a fight. so he left. 

he was frustrated more with himself but he projected it onto you for pushing him away. 

the next few weeks you either avoided one another or everything turned into a fight. he tried to apologize after your fight in his office, you fight him about his apology at every turn too. 

the only thing that goes smoothly is his infusion, because neither one of you says a word. 

but then peter b informs him they’re all going out again, including you. he was aware of these outings but he never went. he knew you’d hate it, probably hate him, but he just wanted to make sure you were ok. it was an unsavory part of an unsavory universe. 

but of course you fought him about that too. 

he was on his way to find another mission to go on, muttering to himself about how stubborn and immature you were, when he noticed a backup signal coming from someone in this dimension. 

your apartment. 

he doesn’t think. 

aaand then of course you fight him about saving you, although the fact that you have a gun on you at all times was reassuring, and possibly attractive. 

and then you fight him about staying to make sure you’re safe overnight too, but that one he won’t budge on. he physically holds himself in your apartment, and eventually you give in. 

he’s surprised when you elect to come out and talk to him, but the conversation just frustrates him more. 

you’re lying to him and yourself about this situation. he knew that but he wanted to get you to admit it. but forcing you to open up was evidently the wrong approach as you all but run from the conversation and shut yourself in your room. 

he’s not trying to listen, but he can’t ignore how fast your heart rate is elevating, and not long after he can hear the faint sounds of your breath start to get too fast. he comes in and stands outside your door. as much as he didn’t like it he figured it was better to leave you alone, but it only gets worse and fast. when you don’t find whatever you were looking for he feels the true panic set in. and he pushes the door open 

what he sees tugs at him, a scene all to familiar to himself, though he’d never talk about it. he rushes over to you. 

later he comes back in to check that you’re still asleep. you’re out cold as he expected, he probably shouldn’t but he strokes your hair gently then your face, whispering to you in spanish. 

he can tell when you wake up although you think he can’t 

you turn on your side and he sits on the bed this time. when he puts his hand on your shoulder it’s really just to make sure you’re listening but you reach up to his hand. he’s not sure if it’s what you meant but he takes it in his 

you’re starting to drift off again but as you do you tug at his hand gently. 

he just sits there holding your hand 

he can tell you’re mostly asleep, but even so you mutter something, even he doesn’t hear it the first time it’s just too muffled. 

he just asks again 

que necesitas? 

one word. it’s all you say

quédate

stay. 

so he does. he gets up for a moment letting your hand fall out of his briefly. he walks around to the other side so he doesn’t have to climb over you and gently sets himself down in the bed. he stays dressed, he doesn’t get under the covers he just lays beside you at a reasonable distance. you’re more on your stomach than your side so he reaches out to rub your back and he starts singing again, softly he knows you can’t even hear him. 

he stays like that for a while, just watching you sleep. you looked blissful, tan hermosa. so beautiful. he felt every emotion towards you from the past few months tighten in his chest. he swelled with defensiveness over you. his animal dna may have caused him to get a little out of control, over protective of you recently simply instinctually after the flood of hormones from what happened between you. but this was him, this was human. 

he thought to himself as he drifted off to sleep. 

fuck. i’m in deep. 

————

taglist:

@urmotherswhor3 @marcswife21 @l3laze @kirke-is-my-name

[blackstarchanx3new]

I'm gonna rant about shit I love from my own comic like the cringelord I am:

Mr. "I want a hug" but not from Red. X'D (I ship them too Blue's just a tsundere)

Yes he is more than fine Green, he found a new home in titty's ville.

Green learned shit from Vio lmfao, I love Vaati so much I wanna beat him senseless. (I swear Vaati also comes back through this comic)

Blue's entire existence brings me joy he's so fucking stupid.

Vio's so offended to the point of blushing but just shuts the hell up because he knows it's 100% true- X'D

Shadow link is fun, I referenced Dark Link from Twilight Princess for this expression lol. (He's got some WEIRD faces. X'D) Making him smile like that after was so funny. Like, such a bitch vibes. Dude has no chill. (Referenced Power from Chainsaw man for him sometimes too.)

Continuity from the OG manga: He laughs at them fighting because he's a sadistic creature of darkness and it's genuinely hilarious to him. (I really want Shadow Link to come off as "Still himself" While keeping his character development from the manga. The others haven't gotten a chance to show that they still have theirs cause they're all so frazzled rn.)

Vio's "Wtf are you on" face too.

Shadow Link flexing on the other 3 by just, passing through the door instead of opening it is so funny to me and idk if it's even funny to anyone else. He's such a childish asshole.

I promise Red does stuff later lmao there's this ONE scene I'm so excited about. But he's got ~DEPRESSION~

Before he cracked in pages 45-48 and cried Shadow Link almost broke a few times lmao. My boy's so overwhelmed.

I wanted them to have fun on their date before I slammed them with the reality of their situation lmao. The smashing pots idea was from that old Zelda joke about Link smashing pots but ALSO those rooms you smash shit in to get out anger. (They're venting~)

Cause Vio has a LOT of hair in FSR I like to have Shadow Link mess with it, specifically brushing it out of Vio's face so he can see it.

Mans was crying off and on this entire night. X'D

Lmao. Yes Vio. He's hurt. But not physically. X'D

This is one of my fave panels because he's just THINKING about everything.

Haha was there RELIEF to knowing you wouldn't see him again Vio?~ BECAUSE OF YOUR CRUSHING GUILT!?

This AU has a lot of love. I wish I could make it faster MGHHGhgh TTuTT