#<- could be read that way. in fact should be

[headspace-hotel]

I've been reading some more of the works of eugenicists while thinking about the state of education about this ideology. Yes, "Eugenics" is a dirty word nowadays; in my opinion, it's not nearly dirty enough.

Here's a fact to make your head spin: Eugenics wasn't about killing people. Yes, it ended up killing people, and if you examine the way eugenics has influenced the world, you realize it still does kill people, but the architects of eugenics weren't leading with, "My fellow countrymen, we should On Purpose Kill People."

The reason that's important is, people keep coming up with ideas labeled (by their critics) "uncomfortably similar to eugenics"--- ideas for a compassionate, scientifically-grounded way of improving humanity by understanding the heredity of good and bad traits and influencing the fertility rates of people with different genetic traits.

There is already a word for this kind of idea. That word is: eugenics. It is silly to set yourself apart from eugenicists by explicitly repudiating killing people or forcibly sterilizing them, when many founding eugenicists also explicitly repudiated killing people or forcibly sterilizing them.

Here is an Internet Archive link to "Heredity in relation to eugenics," a work by Charles Benedict Davenport, an early eugenicist. Please read at least the first four pages.

I'm afraid that his brief introduction to eugenics could sound, to the layperson, surprisingly less scary and disgusting than expected. Mister Davenport's word choices may provide a "red flag" to the reader: he refers to human babies as a "valuable crop," to marriage between people as "mating." The disquiet these word choices cause is because they dehumanize the subjects. Humans, from Davenport's perspective, are essentially the same as agricultural plants or animals, which in turn are assets, sources of economic gain---they are things.

Davenport articulates the contribution of a human being to the United States: "...forming a united, altruistic, God-serving, law-abiding, effective and productive nation." However, relatively few people are "fully effective" at this purpose, because a proportion of society is "non-productive"---either criminals or disabled, or among the people required to care for and control criminals and the disabled.

After you read the introduction of Davenport's book, read his wikipedia page. He was a Nazi. He was a Nazi until the day he died. He was rabidly and repugnantly racist, so much so that his later scientific works fudged together garbage conclusions that contradicted his actual data in order to prop up his racist beliefs. He lobbied Congress to restrict immigration into the USA, out of the belief that the immigrants would poison the blood of our country with inferior genetics.

Overwhelmingly, eugenicists were concerned with disability. They believed that disability would normally be eliminated by natural selection, and that caring for the disabled and allowing them to grow up and to have children would cause a steady increase in the proportion of society made up of disabled people---who were, as Davenport puts it, a "burden" on society.

Eugenicists were also concerned with race. They wanted to gather data that demonstrated what they already believed: that race was a biological reality, a reality that could only appear unclear or malleable because of harmful, aberrant, unnatural scenarios, namely miscegenation or race mixing. Basically, race was both a natural reality, and in need of enforcement.

But eugenicist ideology was not just about the inferiority of disabled people or people of color. Eugenicists thought of their ideas as a science and thought of themselves as scientists, and they broadly addressed virtually everything we would now consider a matter of "public health." Eugenicist writings almost universally address crime, and often don't recognize a clear distinction between crime and mental disability, or between either of those things and poverty. Criminals, disabled people and poor people were basically the same; they had something wrong with their genes that made them that way.

"Sexual deviance" is generally included in this, and Davenport explicitly references this in his introduction, where he says that "normal" people are not likely to have the kind of sex that leads to the transmission of STIs.

For many proponents (including Davenport), the key dogma of eugenics was that genes predetermined everything about a person. Tuberculosis was a huge problem at the time, and eugenicists were insisting that, although the disease was known to be bacterial, susceptibility to the disease was genetic, and therefore people who became sick with tuberculosis were genetically defective. Likewise if a child developed epilepsy after a head injury, the injury did not cause the epilepsy but instead revealed an inherent genetic weakness that was already there. This implied that spending resources on healing or rehabilitating anybody was a waste of time.

If you read more of Davenport's book, you will see that he makes some WILD statements---he asserts that artistic talent is a Mendelian trait controlled by a single gene, basically that you are either born an artist or you aren't. This seems absolutely absurd but, there is a good amount of popular belief in inherent aptitudes for art or music or math or what have you.

Eugenics isn't just about named prejudices like racism or ableism, it is even bigger than that, it is a set of beliefs encompassing how the potential and value of human beings is determined and how society should care for its members as a result of that.

[bubblybloob]

The moment I realized Scarlet Hollow had romance options after thinking the flirting stuff was just for shits and giggles and I had flirted with everyone at least once without realizing it could lead to something more until Stella invited me into her house on day four, that was the funniest shit ever and I’m a colossal dumbass.

[aakeysmash]

Pregnancy cravings

Farmer!Sukuna’s masterlist

Farmer!Sukuna thought dealing with your pregnancy cravings would be a walk in the park. I mean, come on, you two are basically self sufficient: he’s literally a farmer, what could you possibly crave that he doesn’t already have planted or stored?

Your cravings hit at the start of your second trimester. You’re barely showing, and probably the fact that nothing you eat stays in your stomach for more than two hours isn’t helping your case.

It’s winter and it’s snowing: your fields are currently covered in snow, your chickens are huddled up in their coop, your cows are sleeping in their heated stable… and you? You’re reading a book right in front of your fireplace. Sukuna gets home with his arms full of logs to keep the fire alive all night. He sets them on the ground before plopping down next to you with snow clinging to his hair.

“Get off, your nose is cold,” you mumble, pushing him away when he tries to give you a kiss. He raises one of his eyebrows, kissing you on the cheek either way (two times, to spite you). You let out a dramatic whine.

He chuckles, ruffling his hair and wetting your book’s pages with a couple of snowflakes. Annoyed, you roughly close the book, and turn around to give him a piece of your mind, just to find yourself wrapped in his arms.

“I said get off,” you repeat, softer, leaning in despite your words. His body heat is doing a better job than the fire at thawing the chill from your limbs.

“And I don’t care,” he replies nonchalantly. He kisses your temple, cocooning you deeper into him by opening his legs and tucking you into the space in front of him. You grumble something unintelligible.

“How are the only two people I can stand doing today?” He asks you, rocking you side by side. Seeing you pregnant makes him feel uncomfortably soft. And seeing you pregnant with his child? Oh god.

“I want ice cream.”

He stops.

“Huh?”

“More like your offspring wants ice cream,” you sniffle from under his jaw.

“I don’t think we have any in the freezer,” he responds, looking you in the eyes. Your lip starts wobbling.

“But I want it,” you brokenly say, trying to swallow your sobs. His heart clenches.

“I don’t think you’ll be able to have it today,” he says, and immediately regrets it when your eyes well up with tears.

“C’mon, don’t cry now, it’s just ice cream,” he tries to comfort you. Apparently he does a horrible job, because you start bawling.

“But I want it! And I hate that I want it so bad! You know how much I hate playing the weak and fragile woman part, why are you being mean?” you wail, shoving him away and getting up. You quickly go to the kitchen to drink a glass of water, the duvet that was covering you mere seconds ago acting as your cloak.

“No, babe, I’m not-“

You snap your head back angrily, levelling him with a hostile glare. “Yes you are! You’re being mean when it’s your fault I’m like this!” You motion to your body.

“Actually, you begged for it, wife,” he shrugs, a corner of his mouth lifting. He doesn’t expect the punch you throw at his chest.

“Don’t ever come near me again,” you seethe, drinking your water and flying up the stairs. He sighs, rubbing his temples, wincing when he hears you sniffle again.

After ten minutes he knocks on your bedroom door- the same one you not-so-gracefully threw in his face.

“C’mon. Get out,” he grits out. Who knew dealing with a pregnant woman would strip him of the little patience he still has left?

“No. You value me less than ice cream.”

He sighs. “What can I do t’ make you forgive me?” He hears the soft pit pat of your sock-clad feet on the floor before the door creaks open. From the last few months, he'd say your mood swing should be finished by now.

You gently lower the handle, looking at his condescending espression. Then you sag your shoulder, gazing at the floor.

"You big crybaby. C'mere," he smirks, opening his arms. You bury your head in his shoulder, and he pats your hair mockingly.

"I still want ice cream, though," you mumble.

"I'll go get it at the city right now if ya stop crying," he chuckles. He widens his eyes, realizing that... he caught himself too late.

You abruptly step back. He winces.

"And you'd leave me here all alone?! Why don't you love me anymore?!"

[daydreamteardrop]

Girlhood - Sylus x Reader Drabble

Note: Hello! This is a drabble Ive started, maybe I'll continue it. I thought about how Sylus would be so up for helping MC be more confident in a girly style, because her whole life she wasnt allowed to present girly for her safety. (im massively projecting). Grandma Josephine is carrying the brunt of that LMAOOO, idk, is not being a Josephine fan controversial?

Not beta read, we explode like Josephine.

Spoilers for Sylus' Story!

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• °.•

Girlhood wasn't really something you got to grow into.

Middle school introduced the full throttle of make-up, accessories and hairstyles onto the girls your age. And you found it fun, in fact, you always wanted to join the bandwagon.

But your dear gran was just so worried. She'd hold your hands tight and tell you that presenting so feminine can be dangerous. You will be stared at, perhaps even talked to by strangers, god - it would hurt your dear Grandma's heart should you walk outside while presenting in a girlish way. She'd be worried sick.

‘The boys would stare…’

‘Think about the way home, it gets dark so quickly during fall and winter.’

'It's unsightly.’

‘You are way too young.’

‘You’d get unwanted attention.’

And you didn't want to worry her.

So with a sad smile you were always the odd one out. You'd wear big T-shirts and pants. The girls in your class looked at you with such a pitiful yet mocking expression. One time they even ‘accidentally’ cut your hair and when Caleb picked you up from school that day, your silent begging to just go home was the only thing that stopped him from acting against the bullies. Grandma saw it as an opportunity to keep your hair short. It stayed the same even in highschool, where you were mistaken as Caleb's little brother once.

In the Hunter Academy, you were able to loosen the insistence of your grandma and managed to grow your hair to just above your shoulder again.

When you first wore the official Hunter's uniform, you couldn't be happy. The only thought that crossed your mind was ‘Grandma would worry if she saw the bare stomach.’.

When Tara would try to convince you to do anything girlish, you'd decline with a sour smile. Too scared, too constricted.

Even when the explosion took her, you just couldn't free yourself of the shackles.

-

Now, the dress Sylus made you wear for the auction was…gorgeous. The black and velvet felt so nice on your skin, it was practical to move in. The accessories glittered and reflected the dim lighting of the hallway. You didn't dare touch your hair, not knowing how, so the matching black claw-clip was in your hand. You didn't have any make-up you could use. And so it felt sinful to walk along this disgustingly expensive carpet in heels you weren't used to.

He held his hand out for you to take and wore that smirk. Black gloves met his calloused hand and he observed you. Looked you up and down and there was no way to tell if his gaze was scrutinizing. Red eyes met your face and then your hair, then to the claw clip in your hand.

“...not to your taste?”

“That's not it…”

Fingers clenched around the material of the hair accessory. He raised an eyebrow, urging you to continue.

“...I don't know how to put it in. I mean, it's kinda obvious how to, but-”

Before you could bring a finished sentence into the room, he grabbed the clip from your hand and spoke “Turn around.”

“Huh?”

He sighed. “I'll help you.”

With a bit of hesitation you turned around. Something about turning your back to the Onychinus leader was unnerving, an inner part of your brain scratched that it was crazy, but the moment his hands pulled your hair to the back with an uncharacteristic gentleness, the scratch stopped. He left a bit of hair out on purpose, letting it frame your face, and clasped the rest in place neatly by the claw clip.

Your hand traced over it carefully and you turned around and met his eyes. He huffed, satisfied with himself and put his hands in his pant pockets.

You recall the sentence that left him earlier.

‘No one can stay wary, when there's a beauty walking around.’

You're not used to being described with that adjective.

-

After the auction, Sylus waved you off when you wanted to return the dress and its accessories to him.

‘It was tailored for you. It's yours now.’

His way of using his money was…questionable to you. The dress was miles outside of your budget range and you hung it straight and neatly, in order to not even get a hint of a wrinkle in the luxurious fabric.

Closet doors were open and you stared at it, like it was some sort of glorious painting in a museum.

‘Maybe I should frame it.’ you thought as you sighed dreamily. When the tips of your hair slide over the back of your neck, you shudder, because it reminds you of Sylus' fingertips in your hair when putting it up with the clip.

Your poor pillow is the target of your suppressed squeal. A dress was in your possession.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

DaydreamTeardrop2025

[silknspice]

BAD LIARS —

fake dating hockey! vi x reader | fluff, angst, fake dating trope, romcom-ish, smut (mdni 18+) wc 20.8k

synopsis: following the release of four outdated love letters, vi vanderson is more than willing to start fake dating the girl of her dreams as a way to get rid of your clingy ex (and her ex hookup): caitlyn kiramman. 

content: fake dating trope, some fake insta/snap stories/smau content!, language, betrayal, makeup smut (kissing, fingering, oral, mdni!), clingy ex!caitlyn, college au, lying, miscommunication

soundtrack: if you let me (alina baraz) | lowkey (niki) | lovers (anna of the north) | see through (amelia moore) | fetish (selena gomez) | kill bill (sza) | all of the girls you loved before (taylor swift) | two weeks (fka twigs) | everything happens for a reason (madison beer) | every summertime (niki)

Three-fourths of your favorite cereal is absolutely disgusting. 

The deep blue circles start off sweet, but leave a bitter aftertaste that stains your tongue. The auburn ones aren’t all that bad, but they get too soggy, disintegrating into grains that fade into the now colored milk. The chestnut brown discs are so scarce that their taste is completely forgettable; you swear there’s only three in each batch. 

Had these been the only flavors, you’d chuck the box in the trash and scold your best friend-roommate Mel for even bringing them into your shared apartment. But that one-fourth of strawberry pink circles make it worth it every time. They’re sweet on your tongue, sweet on your heart, swee—

“What’s with the look?” 

Mel’s concern-filled voice brings you back to the present, making you smile sheepishly like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. The girl slides her white puffer jacket on, keys jingling in her hand as she awaits an answer. 

“Nothin’, just ate a blue one.” Your mouth flattens, attempting to squeeze the bitter flavor from your tastebuds. 

The gold-eyed girl hums. She blinks as her arms cross and she takes two, then three cautious steps towards you. Her gaze flickers faster than light, attempting to read every inch of your body language. 

“You know,” she starts, sitting down to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. “If you need to talk about it, I’m here. Don’t feel like you have to suffer in silence.” 

That makes you snort, soft reassuring laughter following as you shake your head with confidence.

“Suffer? Mel, I broke up with Caitlyn, not the other way around.” 

“Yeah, but transitioning from a relationship to a peace-abundant single life is hard nonetheless.. unless you’re ready to jump to the rebound stage?” Her full brows raise in persuasion as she finishes her sentence. In her mind, getting laid would solve any problems that the complex inner-workings of your mind could craft. 

The question catches you off guard once more. Not that it should. It’d be a big fat lie to claim the idea never crossed your mind. In fact, it planted itself inside your brain like a bug and dug all the way down to memories you’d attempted to forget. Down to highschool of all places (God forbid). Down to those four names that perfectly defined the word ‘desire’ for you. Ellie Williams, Caitlyn Kiramman, Sky Young, and Violet Vanderson. 

Ellie, a fellow camp counselor at Wildflower Haven your junior year, took hold of your heart on day one. Sneaking out of your cabins at night, skinny dipping in the camp lake, even making matching bracelets that you claimed you’d ‘wear forever’. Your crush blossomed at superluminal speed. But before you knew it, camp was coming to an end and you were saying goodbye forever. 

Caitlyn Kiramman. A classic senior-year-of-high-school crush that didn’t develop until the first semester of college sophomore year. Your now ex, who is the last person you want to think about. High five to your high school self for predicting that one, though. 

Sky Young, a skating instructor at your local ice rink: Polar Peaks. After you’d fallen on your face for the fourth time and were ready to give up, you saw chestnut brown curls above you, decorating one of the friendliest smiles you’d seen to date. She helped you rise to your feet and held your hand for a lap around the rink. Unfortunately, you were a sophomore when she was a senior, and a week later you returned to the rink to find out she’d officially left for college. Not that there was anything between you two. Still, you could dream. 

And last, but certainly not least, Violet Vanderson. The star athlete of your school’s hockey team then and now. Sculpted muscles, a singular tattoo that multiplied quickly after graduation, and a killer smile that could put a halt to the gears turning in any girl’s head.

It was a simple interaction. You were the first one to read your final poem in front of your literature class with clammy palms, a shaky voice, and a dream. As you finished, looking at attentive students like a deer in headlights, Vi was the first to clap. It was enthusiastic, loud, and genuine. And like always, other students followed suit. 

Vi didn’t know you. She knew of you, the bits and pieces she could gather. You were somewhat of a social butterfly, you smelled of strawberry and vanilla every time you passed her seat, you were mind-consumingly beautiful, and you could write. Unfortunately for the both of you, your paths didn’t seem to cross any further than that.

And so, you wrote a letter.

Four love letters, to be exact. Each one in the high point of your crushes, attempting to soothe the longing feeling in your gut that ached for you to do something. You wrapped them all the same, in either a dark blue, chestnut brown, auburn, or pink envelope with a bow on the seal, even going as far as addressing and stamping them. Of course, they were never meant to be sent, which led them to their hiding place in a rose-red cylindrical fabric box that was stashed away into the depths of your closet. 

“C’mon, you’re hot and single again. I have some good contestants–”

“I don’t know Mels,” you cut her off with a look too mixed to decipher. “But really, I’m good,” you reassure, taking another spoonful of cereal into your mouth. 

Yuck–  another blue one. 

“Sevika, what the fuck!”

Gert’s complaint was drowned out by skates shuffling against the abused ice. Players clad in blue and white practice jerseys messily fill the space, fighting to keep up with Sevika. The woman speeds past, guiding the puck along the ice and slamming it into the goal.

The sounds of hurried feet and grunts subside, leaving breathless panting and shared looks of confusion across the teammates’ faces. But one pair of skates never slows, coming up behind the buff figure and skidding to a stop.

“The hell are you doing?” Vi scolds the woman with a scrunched up face of judgement. This is the sixth time Sevika’s pissed her off this week and it’s starting to get on her last nerve. “You’re hogging the puck. You’re not the only person on this team, in a game this would’ve–” 

“Get the hell out of my face,” the burly woman throws back, shoulder checking Violet hard enough to make her break her cool, squaring her shoulders and raising her voice with a “Sevika,”. 

“Vanderson! Grove!” Coach Talis’s voice echos throughout the rink, making the hockey players stop in their tracks. 

“Unless you two want to run extra drills: cut it out. Now.” 

“Is it just me, or is she being more of a fucking pain than usual?” Vi asks the woman across the locker room rhetorically, slipping on a clean compression shirt and plopping down on the bench to knot her laces. 

“I told you dude, she wants to be you, or at least take your spot.” the blonde sighs, pulling her braided hair from under the pullover she just slipped on. “As long as she’s taking her anger our on you and not me..” She continues, and the pinkette throws her a scoff before the blonde continues. 

“You know if you need stress relief, you could always go back to Kiramman. Heard the pretty girl called things off with her.”

And although her teammate only muttered the words, they set off blaring alarms within Vi’s mind. Because she can’t go back to hooking up with Caitlyn, she lied to her friends saying the two of them were ‘too busy’ when in reality Vi called things off because she couldn’t stop thinking about the one girl she knew nothing about. You. And suddenly, you and Cait were dating. Suddenly, she sure as hell couldn’t tell anybody the real reason she stopped seeing her. 

“Nah Abby, not happening,” she simply replies, attempting to sound as bored with the topic as possible.

“Fine, stay dry. I’m just throwing things out there,” the blonde puts her hands up in defense, shutting her locker as she walks towards the exit. “Later!” she waves before slipping out of the door. 

A beat passes. Then two. Then three. Finally, she takes a deep breath, leans down to unzip her practice bag, and reaches in. 

And out Vi pulls a pink envelope, decorated with a bow perfectly placed on the front and her name adorned with hearts on the back. 

The force of cool air coats your face as you walk throughout campus, ranting on the phone to Mel about your latest hell of a group project. “And it’s not even.. even.. sorry, I’m getting a call. Talk at home!” 

You smile at the friendly contact photo covering your screen, rounding some greenery as the parking lot comes into view. With a click of the ‘accept’ button, you're greeted with the gentlest of voices. “Hey!” 

A soft chuckle leaves your lips.

“Hey little man, look I’m about to drive home so I can’t talk for long,” you blinked a few times, realizing you went further from your car and spinning on your heels. 

“No worries,” he starts, “I just wanted to let you know that last week I was helping clean your old room and I found some letters, looks like you forgot to send them out? They were stamped and addressed and everything, so I just sent them for you.”

Ekko continues, giving some speech about God knows what.

But you can’t hear any of it, because the ringing in your ears is deafening.

No. 

It takes a few beats of your pure, shocked silence before your brain powers back on. And once it does, every inch of your mind is racing.

Okay, you thought to yourself. Ellie’s letter was addressed to camp, so there’s no chance of it getting to her anytime soon, if at all. Sky’s been gone for years, but you can’t remember the address you put down for her letter. Violet– shit. She definitely has hers. 

Oh. No. No, no, no. 

Your body feels oh so fragile and suddenly the idea of fleeing the country doesn’t sound entirely heinous, because only a few feet away stands Caitlyn.

Her blue hair is in a messy ponytail and her outfit is less perfected than usual, urgently thrown on. She’s searching, a determined expression plastered on her face as her gaze flickers through crowds of students.

For a moment, you pray it’s a misunderstanding. You pray she’s in a rush to find someone else, because there’s absolutely no way your ex was mailed a love letter you wrote in highschool. 

But your eyes trail down to her hand wrapped around that beautifully decorated navy envelope, and your knees are seconds away from buckling.  

“Yeah, yeah uh huh that’s great and all Ekko but I’ve really gotta go. Call me another time, okay?” you hit the ‘end call’ button with more force than needed and dash to your car. 

As you swing open the car door and drop inside with a slam shut, you can feel it. The way your heart pounds against your chest as if it’s trying to escape. That achy feeling that crawls its way up the back of your throat and transforms into tears that prickle at the corners of your worried eyes.

You shake your head, putting the key in the ignition and immediately shifting to reverse, not tending to your clouded vision. 

“Woah!” 

The somewhat-familiar yelp has your foot slamming on the breaks. Your face scrunches in confusion, the sleeve of your coat wiping your eyes just enough to make out the empty space behind your car as you look in your rearview camera. You’re confused, ready to switch the car back into ‘reverse’ before a tap tap at your window makes you gasp. 

Violet stands there, looking relaxed as an almost smug smile coats her lips. 

Your face distorts, torn between speeding off and giving in to her request, but before you make a decision, your manicured hands are rolling the window down. Cool air flows inside, but it loses to the subtle warmth that fills your body from the way the pinkette is eyeing you. 

“You know you’re supposed to check behind you before pulling out, right?” she teases.

The question itself is mocking, but the glint in her eye and how she leans down to relax a forearm on the car tells you to let it slide. 

“Right,” you agree. “Right, sorry about that. I just really need to leave so–” 

“Think y’ can explain this before you do?”

With no time to brace yourself, she holds up that stupid decorated pink envelope, and all you want to do is faint. 

“I don’t..” you whisper, accepting there’s nothing you can say to make this go away. But that blue hair is nearing, and you’re going to have a heart attack. 

“Can you get in?” you ask, voice a soft plea. 

Vi’s expression falters. That was the last thing she expected.

“Please?” you try again. “I can’t talk about this here.”

Your foot’s going to fall asleep if you sit like this any longer.

The two of you stay perfectly still, worried that any form of movement will penetrate the bubble of silence that formed as soon as Vi sat in the plush passenger seat.

Her mind is racing, because the beautiful girl she’s had her eyes on for months sent her the most heartfelt confession she’s ever gotten, and now she’s sitting in her car in a secluded area of a park. For a moment, she wonders if she’s dreaming. But the sound of your seat belt unbuckling and you shifting to face her, sweet and cautious eyes looking into her soul, has her heart skipping beats. She concludes she’s wide awake.

“Interesting spot for our first date,” she hums after clearing her throat. “You’re not gonna kill me, right?” 

That has your expression faltering. 

“You’re..” you stammer, “you think this is funny?” 

“Listen I’m just a little confused, sunshine,” she doesn’t miss the way your body stills at the nickname. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered. But you and her majesty just broke up, and I think you should know that her and I—” 

“Just– let me see that.” you cut her off and reach out for the rosy packaging, but Vi’s quicker, pulling it back with a squint in her eyes.

“I’d like to know how mortified I should be,” you confess quietly after a beat of silence. “It’s been a while since I read yours.” 

Naturally, the athlete oozes confidence and cockiness, but the pure confusion that colonizes her expression makes all of that fade for the moment. Her guard is down, allowing you to reach over her lap and seize the envelope. 

“Wait wait wait,” she starts as you focus your attention on pulling the folded paper from the envelope. 

“What do you mean ‘yours’? Are you saying I’m not the only person who got one ‘f these?” she asks, voice laced with confusion and another emotion you can’t quite pinpoint. You ignore her, hands stilling as sour nostalgia hits you in the gut and knocks the wind out of you.

My dearest Violet,

Do you remember Ximena Talis’s creative writing class in junior year? You acted so uninterested in each lesson when your teammates were around, but when they were busy skipping class, you were sticking your nose in the next Shakespeare play or Edgar Allen Poe poem. You shared your own writings with the class, a bored look painting your face and an awkward laugh spilling from your throat (although, they really weren’t that bad). But when I stood in front of our peers and performed my spin on “Annabel Lee”, you rose to your feet in applause. I’ll always be grateful that it was you who gave me my first standing ovation. Because in that moment I knew, from my happily raised eyebrows down to the nervous shuffling of my feet, that I love you Violet Vanderson. I really, truly love you. 

You physically can’t read the rest of this.

The tense sensation in your stomach only tightens as you hastily fold the paper and toss it back to the athlete, who’s still examining you with a curious glint in her eye.

“Okay–  here’s the thing,” you begin after a deep breath. “I wrote four letters, and they’re all outdated, like– from sophomore through senior year. A family friend sent them out by accident.” 

The explanation has Violet blinking, because in one sentence you’ve managed to crush her plans that she confidently pranced over with. In one sentence, you’ve made her question what the hell she was thinking. In one sentence, you’ve washed away her suave persona and turned her to a questioning pile of mush, because– you’re not just trying to get into her pants?

“..Well who else got letters?” She cringes at her whiny tone, running a hand through her hair for comfort. 

“Uh,” you sigh and shift your position as you look anywhere but the girl, dread consuming your almost-annoyed face. “A girl from summer camp, some girl from the ice rink, and… Caitlyn.” The last word comes out as an embarrassed murmur that leaves Vi’s mouth agape in shock and pity. 

A few beats of silence pass before Vi’s eyes light up. 

It might be a crazy idea, and you might despise her after the suggestion leaves her lips, but she can’t pass up this opportunity.

“Things with Kiramman must be tense now, right?” she offers.

Your lips press together in silent agreement, gaze trailing to your shining phone screen.  35 new messages and 6 missed calls from Caitlyn, just in the past two hours. You’d texted Caitlyn an explanation as soon as you’d parked: that Ekko sent her an old letter and that was just that. But still, stubborn as always, the bluenette refuses to believe you. 

“You could say that,” you mumble reluctantly. “I just,” you whisper, “I don’t know what to do.”

Her gaze flickers up and down your frame once in final thought. Your bright eyes drooping with worry and once confident voice lacing with insecurity makes up her mind. She wants nothing more than to console you, to wrap her strong arms around your frame and make you beam. Vi’s not sure if it’s her or the seventeen year old in that creative writing class speaking, but words fall from her lips. 

“I could be your girlfriend.”

A wave of disbelief washes over you, leaving widened eyes and a pounding heart in its path. The panicked expression on your face is enough to have her next words sputtering out in consolation. 

“Fake girlfriend, of course.” The way your eyes soften in thought fuels her to continue. “Just for a little while y’know? To give Kiramman the hint.” Her words are spoken with more power as she sees the gears turning in your pretty little head.

The idea’s heinous, and the thought of your scheme being revealed makes your stomach turn in embarrassment for the both of you. It’s ridiculous, idiotic, and risky, but your phone lights up once again with a text from your navy-haired ex, and that’s enough to make you answer.

“Okay, let’s do it.” 

caitlyn: I know you didn’t mean what you said. Just come and talk to me, love.  caitlyn: Jesus, don’t be stubborn. 

The messages continue on like a flood, piling onto your guilty conscience until the notification ringing becomes all too much, making you flick the silence button on your phone. The quiet doesn’t last long as you near the doors of the practice rink. Five players burst through the doors, a cluster of chaos and yells surrounding them before one girl, hair tied back into a dark brown bun, notices you. 

“That her?” she whispers to her teammates, their backs facing you as they walk away, but they whip their heads around (noticeably at that) to get glances at you. 

“Damnn.” another draws out, earning a slap on her neck. 

“How’d Vi do that so fast?” you hear another quip before they take a turn down the hallway. 

You only smiled gently, rolling your eyes at the comments as your hand pushed open the door to the rink. At least you make a believable couple. 

“You know, my words were ‘you could always go back to Kiramman, the pretty girl dumped her’, not ‘you should go bag your ex-fling’s ex-girlfriend’. They’ve been broken up for, what, two weeks? Does she even know about you and Cait?” Abby’s raspy voice fills the ice, making Vi shush her in annoyance.

“Yes, of course she knows.” 

There’s a beat of silence, neither of the players move when the words of a lie fill the air.

“Fuck fine. No, she doesn’t know yet. I’m just waiting for a good time..” Vi confesses, aimlessly kicking the ice.

“You know this makes you messy, right?” the strong blonde grinned. 

“Oh fuck off. Messy is pounding half the swim team.” The pinkette sends an accusatory glance and Abby’s raising her hands up in innocence with a shrug and a smug smile. She rounds the ice and stops in her tracks when you enter the room, glistening skin and a patient waiting look on your face. 

She snickers, letting out a quick whistle as she skates towards the exit off the ice. “Violet,” she coos in a sing-songy voice, “look who’s here for you.” 

The blonde waves goodbye to her friend once and sends you a wink before exiting the room.

Your hands are clasped behind your back as you take your time walking up to where the carpet and ice of the rink are separated. Realizing your limit, you lean your side against the entrance, looking at the athlete whose eyes are grazing over your attire painfully slow.

“You want some skates?” she finally speaks, eyes meeting yours with a glint.

You laugh gently. “Hell no.” She snickers along with you, removing her helmet to run a hand through her hair. 

“So you’ve,” you slightly raise your hand to point your thumb in the direction Abby and the other players exited, “you’ve told people already?” 

Worry flickers over her face, because for some reason she just can’t read you right like she can read other girls and it drives her insane. 

“Yeah, something wrong with that?” she asks cooly, placing her helmet back on the pink fluff as she glides around.

You bite the inside of your cheek in thought, finally shaking your head. “No, no I mean that’s the whole point, for people to know.” you hum. 

“But I have to ask, why are you doing this?”

Vi stops in her tracks, body turning to face yours from feet away. 

She contemplates it, telling you the truth. That she’s infatuated with and intrigued by you. That you’ve completely ruined hookups and “crushes” for her because she can’t get you out of her head. And maybe she doesn’t know you too well just yet, but she’s going to. And yes, she used to fuck your ex girlfriend way before you were even girlfriends, but it has absolutely nothing to do with the bond she wants to have with you, and she prays it doesn’t affect deem her unreliable. 

Yet none of that can come out of her mouth. So, she settles on her practiced lie and prays whoever’s up there doesn’t look down on her for it.

“Coach doesn’t like my reputation for ‘getting around’. Says it just doesn’t look good. Being with you gives me some cover.” She talks smoothly, making sure there’s not a hint of guilt behind her voice, because it's a lie. Coach Talis couldn’t care less about what she’s doing in her free time as long as she shows out on the ice. 

You only hum and nod.

You don’t notice how close she’s gotten until she’s there, staring down at you. Her musk and amber scent is intoxicating, seeping into your nostrils while powder blue eyes catch yours through her helmet and– is it possible she looks better than you remember?

“The letter,” you sputter out, mentally cringing as the pinkette raises a brow. “Can I see the letter again?” 

She’s cheesing, reaching into the pocket of her pants to whip out the neatly folded paper and.. is she just keeping that on her? 

As if she can read your mind and wide eyes, she speaks. “Just knew you’d want it,” she explains, placing it between your waiting fingers. She watches as you unfold the paper and look up at her. Thick silence fills the air before the athlete gets the hint, blinking twice with a nod. “Right, sorry,” Vi apologizes simply before skating off. 

You take a deep breath, heart swelling the same way it did when you first wrote this sweet confession. 

My dearest Violet,

Do you remember Ximena Talis’s creative writing class in junior year? You acted so uninterested in each lesson when your teammates were around, but while they were busy skipping class, you were sticking your nose in the next Shakespeare play or Edgar Allen Poe poem. You shared your own writings with a bored look painting your face and an awkward laugh spilling from your throat (although, they really weren’t that bad). But when I stood in front of our peers and performed my spin on “Annabel Lee”, you rose to your feet in applause. I’ll always be grateful that it was you who gave me my first standing ovation. Because in that moment I knew, from my happily raised eyebrows down to the shuffling of my nervous feet, that I love you Violet Vanderson. I really, really love you. 

When I sat back down in my seat, you slipped a pink sticky note back onto my desk. Gentle handwriting and a sweet smiley face in the corner decorated the words “that was amazing, how do you write so well?”. I’d never had my heart pound harder, never felt my palms sweatier or my spirits higher. As each day passes, I hope you’ll look at me with the same rose colored glasses as you did that class. I dream each night with my lovestruck brain of you taking me by the hand and asking me to be forever yours. I’ll be waiting, no matter how long it takes.

- forever yours, ____

It doesn’t take long before you get that warm and fuzzy feeling, the same one that caressed your body while you wrote this very letter. It takes even less time for it to be replaced with soul eating shame that has you wanting to curl into a ball. 

“You’ve always been a good writer,” she calls out, nearing you. “I meant it when I said it.” 

“..I know,” you agree, a smile forming against your will. 

Vi’s grinning at your sass, and damn is the only word that fills her brain. “How are things with Kiramman?” she asks gently.

“She just doesn’t believe me. She’s texted a thousand times since yesterday and is totally convinced I want her back.” you roll your eyes in exhaustion.

“Do you?” 

You pause at her question, because underneath that carefree and playful persona hides a hint of worry behind Vi’s voice, and it’s fueling the curiosity within you. “Why are you asking?”

A beat passes. “Just wanna know how humiliated I’ll be after all of this,” the pinkette admits.

Her confession makes you laugh and shake your head. “I wouldn’t do that to you,” you hum. “I broke up with Caitlyn and that’s that. If it takes a fake relationship and a little pda for her to see that then so be it.” 

Vi nods, making sure not to let the smile she’s feeling creep onto her face. 

“So you like writing, you’re smart as hell, you dress real cute,” she points a finger up and down your outfit and you tilt your head. “Anything else I should know about you or our little.. ordeal?” 

You tongue your cheek in silent thought before replying. 

“You can’t kiss me.” 

That has Vi’s brain short circuiting, because the image you’ve set in her mind from those words alone is sparking a crimson glow across her face and– fuck she shouldn’t be thinking about this. But she had to admit (to herself, not out loud of course), she’d have no problem with running her lips across yours if you asked for it. 

“Did Kiramman not kiss you, angel?” ‘She’d have to be a fucking idiot not to’ is the next thing that wants to come out of her mouth, but she settles for a soft tease. “That’s a couples thing, if you didn’t know.” 

“We kissed, obviously.” You cross your arms as you speak. “You can– y’know, hold me, kiss my.. anywhere else.” Both you and Vi feel a shift. Damn, are ice rinks always this warm? “Just, no real kissing. It’s too personal.” 

Vi gently nods, slipping out a soft ‘alright’ because you have a good point. 

She moves forward to step off the ice, placing a firm hand on your waist to gently guide you out of the way as she passes. Your body tenses at the touch, whipping your head towards the girl in surprise.

The pinkette notices, and she knows she shouldn’t chuckle at it, but she does. “If it’s gonna take ‘a little pda’, you might wanna get rid of that before this weekend,” she’s speaking cockily as she nears her bag, her helmet coming off for good.

You clear your throat. “What’s this weekend?”

“Party ‘m takin’ you to. Think of it as our couples debut.” And Vi loves the surprised little look on your face as you ask her if that’s ‘really necessary’.

“You really think anyones gonna believe we’re together if I’m at a party all by myself? Who’s gonna fight off all the girls craving my attention, sunshine?” 

You wonder if the notorious smirk on her face is permanent as she slings her practice bag on a sculpted shoulder as she moves to tower over you, the cool air of the rink becoming very present.

“So you’re coming, yeah?” 

Your eyes travel from hers to the empty space beside her in thought. 

“Of course.”

“You’re sure it’s not too boob-y?” 

You tug at your low cut top, half yelling over the chaos of other students to your roommate who’s eyeing you like your one head has turned into five. 

“Wait, you didn’t want it to be ‘boob-y’? Practically wearing a bra,” she yells back with a knowing smile, sipping from the red cup that quickly found her hands. At the sight of your worry, her smugness turns to playful comfort. “Come on, you’re at a frat not a damn funeral. You look sexy.”

“She’s right.”

The raspy voice behind you is unfamiliar, sending a soft chill down your spine that turns you on your heels. 

You’re met with a tall, muscular, brownskin woman. Half of her hair is pulled back, and loose strands fall to decorate her face that holds piercing eyes which are completely directed on you. You’ve seen her before for sure, but her name is the last thing on your mind as her eyes trail over every inch of your exposed skin. 

“Sevika,” she tells lowly, placing a red cup between your manicured fingers to which you scoff under your breath. 

You give her the benefit of the doubt. 

“___,” you offer your name, looking for any hint of recognition on her face, and you get it when she smirks and tilts her head. 

“I know who you are, beautiful,” she purrs.

“Then you also know I’m Vi’s girlfriend?” you throw back. The words feel completely foreign on your tongue, but come out so awfully right. 

The raven’s eyebrows raise right before she huffs out a laugh of disbelief, sipping from whatever mixture graced the cup in her hand. “Girlfriend?” she repeats. “Shit, with the way she was talking about you, I thought you were just a hookup.” 

The air’s suddenly much thicker, tenser, and you don’t have much time to process what Sevika just laid upon you before pink hair makes its way through the crowd.

“There’s my girl,” Vi calls out as she nears you, her sweet words cutting the tension like a knife. “Been looking all over for you,” she speaks as gently as she can in the atmosphere, completely ignoring the presence of her teammate.

“Hi,” you simply let out. Your knees feel weak and you think maybe you’re not cut out for this, because the pinkette slides a warm hand around your waist and places a chaste kiss down on your bare shoulder. 

She’s pulling back from your skin when her eyes land on the cup in your hand, a confused glint in her eye as she squints. “Thought you drove?” The calloused fingers tracing meaningless patterns on your skin and soft breathy words hitting your face from just inches away make you feel like Melting. What’d she ask again?

“No,” is all you manage to stammer out, shifting in the girl’s arms until the right words form in your head. “No this isn’t mine.” you’re mentally facepalming.

Vi’s eyes flicker from you, to the cup, to Sevika, finally piecing together her part in this. The athlete stands a bit taller, gently taking the drink from your hands and shoving it against Sevika’s chest. Some of the liquid splashes over the cup, leaving droplets of a stain on the angry woman’s shirt.

Sevika’s slowly taking the cup without breaking eye contact. Her gaze is sharper than daggers as Violet huffs out a scoff, her grip on your waist more present as she guides you away from the brute and through the crowd of partygoers. 

“I’m sorry about her. One asshole of a teammate.” Vi’s words kiss your ear to avoid yelling as she walks. “You okay?” she asks slightly softer, which earns her a nod and quick ‘yeah’. The pinkette’s hand snakes from around your waist down to grab one of yours, holding you tightly as you worm your ways through the horde. 

As you exit the crowd your left arm finds its way to wrap around her right, placing your free hand lazily on her bicep, because if you had to feel her fingertips on your skin anymore you’d faint. The pair of you walk through the spacious backyard, decorated with a pool, groups of your classmates, and a cluster of hockey players lounging on some couches that circle a fire pit. 

“You ready?” She whispers softly.

“Ready,” you reply with a smile that turns into an “o” shaped mouth, big worried eyes capturing VI’s. “They won’t ask me about hockey, right?” 

The girl lets out a sweet, genuine laugh, and so cute is what she’s mentally replying. 

“There you are!” Abby calls out as soon as the two of you are in her vision. The rest of the team follows, greeting both you and Vi, throwing her smirks or nods of approval when you have your focus elsewhere. Vi sits, sprawling out against the couch with her legs perfectly spread for you. As if it were natural, her hands find their way around your hips and she guides you down into her lap. 

And you hate it. 

Not the feeling of her firm chest against your back, not her warm legs encasing your bare and crossed ones, not even the way she wraps her muscular arms around your torso and places her head so close to yours. 

You hate how normal she’s making all of this feel, how your brain is being fried with each touch, but your faux girlfriend doesn’t seem to be bothered one bit. And you’re starting to wonder if it’s a problem. 

“How’d you two even meet? Didn’t you and the chick from the basketball team just break up?” one of her teammates questions you with a raised brow. 

Fuck is all your brain renders, and you hope the shock didn’t show on your face because—

“I’ve had the hots for her since high school, thought it was time to do something about it,” Vi replies. A proud feeling washes over her when your body relaxes in her arms.

You’re gently squeezing her arm twice, thankful that she’s such a great actor. She’s running her thumb against your skin, thankful that you can’t read minds. 

A few sweet nods and noises of approval are let out before Abby speaks up. “‘The hots’? What are you, fifty?” She jokes, earning a grinning ‘fuck off’ from Vi. 

The teammates’ conversation continues both with and without you, leaving moments for you to think of something ‘girlfriendish’ to say or a new place on Vi’s skin to touch. And then, it starts. Against Vi’s rolling eyes and Elora’s complaint that this is “so middle school”, a game of truth or dare ensues. Ever the fun one, the blonde convinces everyone that it’ll be fun, that it’s good to be childish every once in a while. 

So far, Gert’s been dared to send an ‘i miss you’ voice note to her ex and is utterly ashamed, Abby’s mouth tastes both bitter and spicy from the liquor concoction the teammates dared her to drink, another girl has been stripped down to her shorts and wife pleaser and shooed away from the fire to ‘endure the cold’ for ten more minutes. 

When it comes to the other teammates, you don’t know how many “___ and i banged” truths and “take this many shots” dares you hear before it’s finally your turn. 

“Truth or dare?” Vi coos in your ear.

“Truth–” 

“Dare?” she cuts you off with a mean grin. “Alright, I dare you to jump into the pool. Right here, right now.” 

Your head whips towards the girl fast enough to send chills down the pinkette’s spine. The hockey team is whooping and cheering you on as Violet comes to a stand with your mid area still locked by her arms. 

“No– no– I said truth Vi!” you sputter out. Your body and mind are moving at an astronomically slow speed because before you know it, Vi’s scooping you off the ground and throwing you over her shoulder effortlessly. As she begins to walk, the hollering of the team growing in intensity, one of her warm hands lays at the back of your thigh, holding down the bottom of your already short skirt. The other trails its way down your leg and to your feet, slipping off your shoes and letting them fall with a plop. 

“Violet Vanderson.” you warn firmly, squirming in anticipation as you neared the icy blue water. You’re feeling five emotions at once, and at the same time evaluating how much Caitlyn’s perception on things truly matters, because you’re this close to firing your ‘girlfriend’. 

When she suggested this entire ordeal you imagined it’d be standing together for an hour and dancing, going out for drinks once or twice, maybe even an instagram story or two. 

You didn’t expect pool shenanigans, shoulder kisses, and powerful arms wrapped around your sides every two seconds. You didn’t expect to be having fun, let alone like it. 

“Put me down!” you yelp through rising giggles.

“A dare’s a dare, angel.” she speaks lowly over her shoulder to you, who’s dangling helplessly in her grasp. “C’mon, it looks good for us as a couple,” she whispers.

“Wait wait wait!–” 

Your last threat is drowned out as Vi jumps into the glowing blue.

“Wonder how many people have had sex in here tonight,” you joke through chattering teeth. You’re holding your soaked hair together to the best of your ability as to not drench everything in your path, but truthfully, water is the cleanest thing to grace those frat floors. Vi trails right in behind you, snorting out a laugh as she leans against the closed door. 

The pinkett’s pool stunt only had you upset for so long, mostly out of shock of her actually going through with it. However, once you rose to the surface of the water, the only things that could spill from your mouth were hearty giggles. 

What made it ten times better was that people saw, Vi’s teammates whooped while others just snickered at the ‘new couple’s’ playfulness. 

What made it a hundred times better was Abby informing you of how pissed Caitlyn looked, staring at you and Vi before storming back the way she came from. 

“Enough to start a new std?” She flashes her pearly whites at her own joke.

“Violet!” you cringe, making her chuckle. 

As cold as your water-soaked clothing, skin, and drenched hair makes you, the athlete’s soft gaze is a lighter igniting a blaze in the pit of your stomach. For the first time in a long time, protected by the walls of someone’s room, you’re able to explore her face. 

Perfect, full brows are intercepted by a slit with one to match down on the the left of her rosy lips. Sweet freckles dance on and around her nose, and gosh she’s pretty. It’s the same face you’d admired years ago, but you still look at her as if you’ve discovered her beauty all over again. You stand there attempting to pinpoint what shade of blue her eyes are when she finally speaks up. 

“Here,” the athlete steps closer, taking off her thick black coat and handing it over sheepishly. “Can’t do anything about your skirt, but I thought these would help.” A hint of blue and white fabric peeks out from underneath, and you unravel it to reveal a jersey. One of her jerseys. 

There’s a glint of suspicion in your eye, and Violet’s in fear. 

“You just.. keep this in your car? All the time?” You question with a perfectly raised eyebrow. 

Vi clears her throat. Because no, no she doesn’t. She just had to do something to get you in her clothes. 

A beat passes with no response, and finally the pinkette’s eyes are flickering around the room before she turns. “I’ll let you get changed.” 

The door’s opening and closing before you can protest, and it’s finally safe for that suppressed smile to grace your lips without shame.  

It doesn’t take long for you to strip out of your sopping clothes and into the oversized comfiness of Vi’s. You examine yourself in the full length mirror, fixing your wet hair to the best of your ability and running your hands over the warmth of the new clothing. It sMells just like Violet, and you convince yourself that you don’t care, but underneath that protective mask is the lovestruck teenage girl you once were.

Turning on your heels, you gather the wet bundles of fabric and head for the door when someone on the other side beats you to it. 

Correction, the last person you want to see beats you to it. 

Caitlyn’s quick to step inside the room, closing the door with an indecipherable expression plastered on her face. Her brows furrow with more distaste than usual, and her once perfect navy blue locks now have strands messily shaken out of place. Your tongue is strangled by the bite of your teeth. It takes everything in you not to roll your eyes to the back of your head. 

“Violet Vanderson?” She wastes no time, chary eyes examining your face with crossed arms. “Really?”

You’re done holding back, so you scoff.

“Yes, really. What, are you jealous?” you quip. “Y’know what, don’t answer that. I already know.” 

She ignores the sassy remark. “I’m surprised you chose her, considering everything.” 

You raise an eyebrow in confusion. “Considering, what exactly?” 

Caitlyn’s poker face had been drilled into her since she was a kid, but the bluenette physically had to suppress the amusement from taking over her face when she realized: you had no clue. 

“I just didn’t think she was your type, and that was awfully fast,” she saves. 

“I didn’t cheat on you, if that’s what you’re insinuating.” You spit the words like they burn on your tongue as impatient hands come up to rest on your hips. 

“I’m insinuating that I don’t believe whatever this is.” 

That has you pausing. Your face, demeanor, and attitude all stay the same, but you both notice the shift in the air. 

“I think you realize you messed up when you broke things off, and now you’re playing hard to get.” She continues, stepping forward as her toned arms fall to her sides. 

“There’s no need to play games with me, you know.” 

Cait’s look is condescending, and it only pisses you off more when her hand reaches out to caress yours. The perfect persuasion, an easy fix to all of her problems when the utter of her surname isn’t quite enough. But you’re not easy, and you didn’t mess anything up. So you quickly swat it away, sneering as you step around the tower of a girl and towards the door. 

“Get over yourself, Caitlyn.” 

You exit the room with blood red vision, a fury which follows you on your journey to find Mel in the drunken crowd and pull her to the front while Vi offers to walk both of you to your car. 

And in your red haze, you miss the eye contact Caitlyn and Sevika make from across the crowded room. 

Sweat is dripping from the athletes’ foreheads down to the stretch of their neck as Talis blows his whistle, allowing the players to catch their breaths.  

Normally, Vi would be more than willing to stay longer than the scheduled practice time. Running fun drills with Abby, racing Gert, whatever the matter may be. Hockey is her thing. 

But, at the moment, you’re also ‘her thing’. And right now you were patiently waiting in your apartment for Vi to make an appearance. A friendly one, of course. Away from watching eyes and overwhelming questions, where you could discuss your next moves in peace–as peaceful as you could get with the muscular tease looking at you as if you were a star to wish on at night. 

So she keeps her mouth shut and her eyes trained on Coach Talis (who’s giving some end-of-practice spiel) as Sevika glides up next to her.

She keeps her mouth shut as the brute lets out a soft scoff at how hard Vi’s trying to ignore her. 

She has to bite hard on her tongue when the woman mutters something about the pink-haired athlete needing to ‘give up while she’s still ahead’. 

And her mouth opens immediately when your name falls from Sevika’s lips. “___, she really is somethin’ huh–?” 

“Don’t fuck with me, Sevika,” she threatens, a tad louder than expected. Their stubborn gazes stay locked on one another, and Sevika’s letting out a scoff while squaring her firm shoulders.

“Or what?” the raven throws back, intimidation oozing from her presence.

“Hey! What did I say?” The bubble of their rivalry is popped as Coach Talis raises his voice. 

“That’s it. Bag skates.” 

[REDACTED]: you sure this’ll work? 

When Vi finally shows up at your sun-glistening apartment, her hair is wet from the quick shower she took, she’s a total blubbering mess about how she’s crazy sorry and feels terrible for making you wait an extra hour, and she’s holding one cup of coffee that looks exactly like the one you always order.

“Vi, seriously it’s okay,” you chuckle, and the girl deflates in soft relief. A smile sweet as honey graces your face and Vi finally figures it out: you’re just an angel in disguise.

You reach over from your seat on the couch to take the cup of coffee from her hand. It’s your order to a T, and the sip you take sends a cold trail of liquid down your throat and into the warmth of your stomach. 

“Mmm,” you hum, making Vi malfunction when you lick the remnants from your lips. “Did you chug yours on the way?” you ask.

Perfect blue eyes blink twice while Violet calculates the odds that you’ll say yes if she were to suggest you drop the whole act and venture off on a real date right now. 

“Oh– hell no. I can’t stand coffee. I just went to get you one,” she hums without thought. Fifty-five percent chance, not good enough. 

“Again, I’m sorry. Sevika’s been more of an asshole than usual. Made us run back and forth on the ice until we practically collapsed. Don’t know what the hell she was thinking though, almost missed her shift at that rink..” Violet continues on with conflicted brows furrowing and a hardened gaze. But just like waves washing away at imperfections in grainy sand, the awestruck glimmer in your eyes wipes the fury from her blood. 

“You went just for me?” the question comes out almost as a whisper.

Violet swears she can feel her heart Melting from your actions, and the feeling bubbles its way up as words in her throat. “Of course.”

It’s left at that. Of course, a declaration that it was common sense she’d be of service to you even behind the scenes. Neither of you dare to ask or explain why. For a moment, there’s no words. Just the soft sensation of little breaths, beating hearts, and wandering gazes, but only for a moment.

“Cait doesn’t believe us,” you spill.

Vi can only huff gently, shifting in her seat as her spread legs move a bit wider. 

“She’s smart, I’ll give her that.” Vi hums in thought. The cogs in her brain get distracted and come to a halt when she sees the glistening worry in your orbs, and without thought, her hand is coming up to hold your chin, guiding it to connect your gazes.

“Hey, we’ll fix it, alright?” She reassures, and a thumb glides over your cheek. The moment is tender, something deep and sweet, but it doesn’t take long for the both of you to pull back as your eyes flicker anywhere else. 

“We just need to… to up our game.” At the sight of your confused eyes, she continues. “Give me your phone,” Vi instructs softly, holding her hand out.

You simply obey, placing the device in her hand with a slight squint in your eyes. 

All uncertainty is replaced with giggles and content when Vi holds up the camera. Her left hand holds the phone while her right arm lifts into frame next to her face and flexes, revealing the entirety of her sculpted muscles. 

Jesus, your mind betrays you.

After the snap of the camera, the pinkette hands the device back to you. 

“Make it your lock screen,” she speaks so casually, like the idea behind these actions have no effect on her whatsoever. A black cased phone is then slid into your hands, and big powder-blue eyes are staring at you expectantly. 

“Oh, you want..” you internally cringe at the stammer. 

“Of course, needa see your face too.” she states with a grin.

You’re nodding at that, as if a swarm of what you think are butterflies aren’t rummaging around in your gut. Raising the camera in your manicured fingers, you snap a photo mocking Vi’s. More kissy face, less muscles. The athlete has the biggest grin as she takes the device back, and with a ‘there’, your face is  blessing her lockscreen. 

“So, should I book our room at Mt. Sky, or do you want to?” Her eyes are trained on your face as she drapes both swole arms across the back of the couch. 

You do nothing to hide the surprise on your face. With crisp frosty air, a winter wonderland of snow, and more unplanned pregnancies and sexual noise complaints than any of the campus’s frat parties, Mt. Sky was the unofficial University of Piltover ski trip of the year. Athletes, hookups of athletes, curious freshmen, and anyone who concerned themselves with campus drama banded together for a few days of thrillingly-messy paradise. 

“You wanna share a room?” you ask with raised brows, because ‘wait, we’re going?’ seems out of the question.

The pinkette’s lips curl into a smile, one that flashes the white of her teeth as blue orbs flicker down and up your frame once.

“Yeah, I do.” 

The short silence that follows is smothering, and you swear the room just got a hundred degrees hotter—because there’s the same tease you remember fantasizing over as your pink glitter pen graced the paper of her letter. 

“It’d be weird if we didn’t,” she explains. “Wouldn’t just be Cait questioning us, it’d be everybody,” she tilts her head, and you’re snapped back to the reality of your situation. Fake. 

You’re not looking at the freckled girl as you hum with a nod. 

That has the athlete’s suave persona faltering. A rough hand snakes up to gingerly move a piece of hair from your face. She’s barely touching you, as though you’re more fragile than glass in her grasp. 

“We don’t have to, if you wanna room with Mel that badly–” 

“–No, no I think we should,” you reassure with a smile, because you do want to, more than you probably should, but your brain’s having a very hard time deciphering fantasy from reality. 

It’s her turn to hum, and that tender hand doesn’t leave your face, it only stills as you turn your head completely towards her. 

“You don’t have to do that when we’re in private,” you refer to her wandering hands with a gentle tone. Vi’s eyes soften into something raw and real as she lulls out a response.

“Doesn’t hurt to get comfortable with each other. Right, sunshine?”

Wrong. 

Because it could hurt. It could wound the both of you and cause an ache like never before. Because—admittedly—you don’t know what you’re feeling right now. But more importantly, you don’t know what Violet’s feeling. You had her all figured out at seventeen, but now, you’re unsure of how gentle or reckless she’d be with your heart.

And still, against all the skepticism your brain concocts, you agree. 

“Right.” 

[REDACTED]: Of course I’m sure. Just do what I ask and we’ll both get what we want.

“Late again?” Finn coos, a teasing expression on the raven’s face. 

“Another run in with pinkie,” Sevika smirks, almost seeming proud. 

The man shakes his head with a smile before placing a handful of mail on the counter in front of the pair. “You mind?”

A groan falls from Sevika’s lips as her gaze flickers between him and the letters. “But I have—”

“Please?” the man asks, already inching away from the space. “I just have to deal with something.”

Before she can argue further, Finn thanks her and rushes off towards the rink. The woman’s left muttering swears and rolling her eyes as she rummages through the envelopes filling her space. 

To: Polar Peaks, To: Polar Peaks, To: Sky Young, To: Pola—

She blinks once and her firm hands come to a pause before her fingers are backtracking to a chestnut brown envelope, covered in hearts and kiss marks. 

Sevika’s huffing out a laugh of disbelief. Her eyes trail over every inch of the sickeningly sweet decor. The recipient address is the ice rink, just like the rest of the pile, and the woman’s intrigue only grows as her eyes trail to the top left corner. To the sender. To you. 

“My favorite energy drink?” Vi throws out.

“Berrybulls, specifically the yellow and amber ones.” you quip with confidence, smiling when Vi nods in content. 

A lightbulb flickers across the pink haired girl’s face, and she stops in her tracks, unintentionally pulling you back. You’re standing still now, and as the frigid air threatens to consume your body, the reminder that your hands are intertwined with one another spreads warmth throughout your core. You let yourself forget that it’s for show, and enjoy it. 

“Vi?” you question, stepping a bit closer. 

“This one’s important,” her tone is more serious, and her eyes meet yours as she takes a deep breath.

“What’s… my coffee order?” 

“Oh my gosh–” a joking scoff falls from your lips, and you’re gently shoving the laughing girl as you pull her to continue walking. The warmth of hand holding can only do so much to combat standing still in the chill of winter air. 

“C’mon sunshine, we’ve learned all there is to know. Besides, you really think anyone’s gonna come up and start quizzing us?” 

“No,” you admit as Vi holds you closer with a hand around your waist while more pedestrians enter and exit the sidewalks. “But I think it’s good to know just in case. Besides, I like learning about you.” 

“Oh yeah?” she coos. You hear a phone buzz once. 

“Yeah,” you let out with a giggle. Another buzz, and you’re reaching into your back pocket and tapping on the screen to reveal… nothing. 

kiramman: You have until the end of the trip. kiramman: If you don’t tell her, I will.

Is it possible to feel complete peace and soul-shredding anxiety simultaneously? 

On one hand, you’re having the most fun you’ve had in a long time. The drive to the resort with Mel—and her newfound friend Elora— was filled with guttural laughter. The three of you screamed songs at such a volume you’re surprised the windows didn’t burst. 

When you arrive, you’re trapped by the strong arms of Abby who’s lifting you into the air with her hug. Vi has to be the one to mutter “That’s enough, Abs..”, earning a laugh from the surrounding teammates, who are quick to tug you and your friends into conversation. 

There’s arms around your waist and a bulky body encasing yours while you sit around a fireplace, quiet giggles to each other when you’re bored of the group conversation, and a sweet goodbye kiss to your forehead when Vi and her peers leave to ski. The day progresses perfectly. 

On the other hand, you can feel as Caitlyn’s eyes follow you. A predator stalking its prey. And even though you’re not afraid of the girl, you wonder what it’s going to take for her to throw in the towel. 

“Was the sex that good?” Mel’s golden eyes are both teasing and genuinely questioning you. 

“You’re unbelievable,” you throw back with a laugh. 

“I’m serious, why is she so persistent? Does your tongue have a built in vibrator?—”

“Mel!” 

She’s giggling with you now, face falling into the plush of the king sized bed you’re both sprawled out on. 

“By the way, watch out. Your girlfriend’s biggest fan decided to show up this year,” she flips over onto her back, head tilted to look at you with a pitying–but still undeniably smug–expression.

“Sevika?” you whine and she nods. “She never comes to Mt. Sky. She’s just... anti-fun.” 

Mel hums. “A refined Kiramman has turned into a borderline stalker, Sevika Grove is coming on ski trips, what’s next? Aliens?”

“Surprised the aliens weren't first.” 

Your giggles are cut short as Elora knocks at your already open door, and Mel’s swiftly coming to a stand. 

“Talk to you later?” she offers, and you smile with a nod. 

The tranquility of an empty room only lasts so long, because within seconds, Vi is bursting into the space and hastily shutting the door. You hear the click of the lock and jolt up with confusion written across your face. 

“Vi? What’s—” 

“Cait’s on her way up here,” she speaks with haste.

“I could talk to her, if you want. Just say the word,” Vi offers, and there’s no time to overanalyze the tightness in your chest at the idea of the pinkette protecting you. 

Thousands of possibilities fly throughout your racing brain. Talking went in her ear and out the other (or, rather, around her head entirely), and going radio silent only amplified her stubbornness. The way you see it, the only thing left to do is play Caitlyn’s petty game, to make it clear that the two of you were done. 

Your brain is completely heated and fuzzy at the idea, but you have no time to waste as you hop off of the bed and over to the butch. 

“We’re gonna have sex,” you state. 

Vi’s completely stopped working. That’s it—she’s died. She’s died and gone to heaven. That’s the only plausible explanation for—

“Fake! Fake sex, I mean.”

Well that makes more sense. 

“Fake–what? You’ve gotta explain a little better than that,” she’s trying to suppress the color from showing in her cheeks, and a hand comes up to run through her hair. 

“Just—” you stammer, moving the girl by the arm so that you’re both a few feet away from the door, leaned up against the wall with Vi hovering over you. Your hand stays on her arm, which is gently placed on the side of your waist. The room’s air grows thicker by the second, and tension oozes from every movement made. 

“This doesn't feel very fake, sweetheart.” Her voice is lower, more sultry, and it sends a shiver straight up your spine. 

“We’re gonna…” gonna faint. The sound of footsteps power walking down the hallway throws your brain back into action. “Just follow my lead,” you breathe.

The athlete’s in a state of utter confusion. She’s squinting harder than ever as you bite your lip, seemingly in thought, before you send a wave of pure shock throughout her core. 

You moan. 

Not a whine, not a whimper, not even a wince, a raw moan that compels something in her to twitch. 

“Violet,” you’re singing, eyes closed, and your head thrown to the side. Out of embarrassment or getting into character, she’s not sure. She’s not sure of anything, quite frankly, because how on earth is she expected to think when you’re squealing her name like she owns you?

“Oh yes—please please,” you coo. As if someone flipped a switch, you’re opening your eyes to look up at the athlete. 

“Say something,” you snap in a whisper. 

There’s no wasted time, because Violet’s thoughts spill at your approval. 

“So fuckin’ pretty. Who knew your moans sounded so good, baby?” 

You’re about to lose it. All sense of good judgment—or what’s left—is flying out of the window and being replaced by the dirty haze of your mind. You can’t help the way your hand is gently trailing up Vi’s arm and sliding down to rest against her abs. You don’t miss the way her grip around you tightens.  

You expect her to be done, but Vi’s kept these thoughts tucked away for way too long. If they’d be of any service to you, she might as well let them out. 

“Bet she couldn’t fuck you like this, huh? No angel, she couldn’t.”  

A symphony of grunts, whimpers, and moans of passion decorate not only the room, but the ears of Caitlyn. Your navy haired ex lingers outside the door, seeing nothing but blood red as she listens to the noises you used to make for her. The noises Vi never made for her. The newfound passion that the pinkette pulled out of you, one that Cait never could. 

With clenched, clammy fists and gritted teeth, Caitlyn reluctantly drags herself away from the door and down the hallway. 

Like coming down from a high, shallow breaths fill yours and Vi’s ears before all sounds subside. Neither of you dare to move as the clack of Caitlyn’s feet storm down the hall and out of earshot. Colorful orbs stare down at the floor or up at the white ceiling, because they’re suddenly oh so intriguing. 

And maybe, just maybe, this is the moment you realize not everything is as imaginary as you thought. 

Meanwhile, Vi’s imagining what the hell she’d say in this situation if her brain were computing. Because the sight of you throwing your head back in fake pleasure and spilling noises straight from your core was entirely soul-shifting. 

And it’s different, to be seeing you this close. Granted, she’s been closer. Graced the skin of your forehead or cheeks with her soft and scar-decorated lips more than once. But here, hovering over your softened body, her hand connecting to your waist with the gentlest of touches, and her eyes firmly memorizing every angle of your face, it’s different. Everything’s softer, and Violet’s able to relish in your raw loving aura, rather than put on a performance for the skeptical eyes of others. 

And then you laugh. 

You laugh, and laugh, and laugh. So hard that you don’t notice the way Vi smiles, one that doesn’t quite meet her eyes.

And definitely, oh definitely, this is the moment she realizes she’s undeniably smitten. 

“Think we’ll get the first noise complaint?” You joke while coming down from your fit of laughter. 

That pulls a laugh from Vi’s throat, one that has her leaning forward with a deep breath after it bubbles out. The soft of her forehead tenderly meets yours, and the room’s heart rate rises exponentially, but neither of you squirm out of your positions. Because this is exactly where you want to be.

You can’t see it as your eyelids flutter shut, but Vi’s left hand wraps around your waist to meet her right, cradling you in a way that’s so natural, so sweet, so real. A cradle that protects and shields you from forces you can’t handle alone. A shelter for disasters from tsunamis to the cold chill of winter. From pretending to be your girlfriend to replacing your wet party clothes, all the way back to being your first standing ovation. Vi is your refuge. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, worried you’ll crack the faultless atmosphere. “Can’t believe you’re putting up with this– with me.” 

Her grip lightly tightens. “I’d do it over and over again.” 

She would, and she will, if you let her. 

You feel the truth in her words, and your eyes flutter open to pull back, just enough to look into those perfect blue specks. 

The pair of you stay there for what feels like forever, examining the watercolor paintings that you call your eyes. And–although she could stare at you for the rest of her life–Vi physically can’t wait any longer. Like magnets, your lips are tugging her forward. Centimeter by centimeter. Inch by inch. Heads tilting, eyes half lidded, and breaths hitching. Vi can practically taste the plush of your feature when—

“Yo! You guys in there?”

Abby’s fist thumps on the door three times. And as fast as you connected, you’re drifting apart.

you don’t care whether she knows or not. you just want her crawling back to you. not happening.  kiramman: I’ll tell her.

“Would you rather go a month without sex, or a month without candy?” 

“What kind of stupid ass question is that?” Vi throws at Abby, who’s snobbishly leaning back in the heated water as if she’d given the ultimatum of the century. 

Her newest middle school party game is would you rather, and while Vi couldn’t care less about the event itself, she’s secretly over the moon at the effort her teammates and close friends are making to connect with you. 

“A month without candy,” you cooly state as you look down at the water. Making the relationship more believable. That’s all you were doing.

That enables a chain of raised eyebrows and looks to Vi, whereas others let out sly whistles and snickers, throwing out little quips like “you hear that, superstar?”. 

“Alright, alright,” she’s calming them with a tug at the corners of her lips and a roll of her eyes. You only snicker to yourself at the odds, as if you didn’t have sex— fake sex with the girl minutes prior.

Leaning closer against Vi’s skin, plush bodies warming each other in the bubbly heat of the hot tub, you’re almost completely relaxed. The outdoors is the perfect flaky winter wonderland you expected, cabins further out from the resort look like the coziest of all shelters, and the milky mountains in the distance tie the atmosphere together. 

And while you’re focused on the landscape, Violet’s eyes are completely trained on you. 

She examines the way you sit so properly in her lap, the way your legs squirmed as she slid her hands away from your thigh and around the small of your waist (so others could see your contact.. of course), how you get so comical and chattery once you’re finally comfortable in a group, and the angelic resting look on your face when you’re finally at ease. 

And neither of you know it, but when the conversation is one that allows you to listen instead of talk, you’re both daydreaming about the endless possibilities of this night. The potential of this moment, as well as that of the countless others you’ve had since this entire ordeal began. 

Neither of you know it, but you’re both considering the idea that life could be like this all the time. The two of you snuggled up, surrounded by those cherished, laughing until you just can’t breathe. 

A chin comes to rest gently on your right shoulder, and Vi’s breath sends a shiver throughout your body faster than the crisp winter air ever could. 

“Do you always sit with your legs crossed in pools?” she teases, voice low, like she’s sharing a secret with you. Only you. 

“No,” you simply hum. Your tongue is prodding the inside of your cheek in thought, and you go through with the lightbulb in your head. 

“It’s a great reminder of how dangerously close your hands are to my bikini though, isn’t it?” 

The pads of her fingers that were once tracing meaningless patterns on your waist come to a stop, and you can hear the smirk in Vi’s voice. 

“You want me to move them?” she breathes.

Your response is almost automatic.

“No.” 

The conversation of what would’ve happened if Abby hadn’t knocked on your door was yet to come, but the newfound tension and playfulness that spilled from both of your lips was undeniable. 

Vi grins at your confidence, but underneath the suave persona, she knows you’ll be the death of her. 

“Bold girl,” she hums.

You’re so trapped in your playful banter that you don’t notice the way the rest of your peers are leaving, running off towards a different attraction of the resort, only god knows what. 

“You were pretty convincing up there,” your sly lips are curivng up at the corners. “You have fake sex often?”

“Nothing fake about my sex.” 

You’re snickering at her confidence, relishing in the way her arm hardens around you as she chuckles. 

“Don’t get cocky. I’m sure someone’s had to fake-orgasm with you once.” Maybe the lying’s getting to you, because you know in your heart of hearts that’s the furthest thing from the truth. 

“You really believe that?” she speaks in a lower tone, head snaking around to make eye contact with you. 

Like a clock rewinding, you’re seventeen again. 

Not physically, nor mentally, but your full heart is pounding the same rhythm as when you first fell for the tough, pink haired beauty in your writing class. Your breaths are shallow, gazes locked, and the warmth between you is incomparable to any sensation you’ve ever experienced prior. 

“Thought so,” she brazenly states after your lack of words, and you’re smiling in thought before gently splashing water towards the smug girl, Melting her charming essence that has you by the throat. 

Vi gasps through a laugh. Soon, she’s threatening to splash you back while you laugh and squeal through your begs for mercy. 

And although your vision isn’t flawless through the squinted happiness of your eyes, you can recognize that swinging navy blue hair approaching you.

Fuck. 

“She doesn’t give up,” you think out loud, and Vi doesn’t need to waste energy on turning her head to register who you’re talking about. 

You don’t see it through your irritated gaze, but Vi feels a jolt of worry crawl up her spine. While you worried about Cait smothering you for the rest of eternity, Vi’s skin shivers at the idea of her place in your heart being twisted from one of love and trust to hatred.

She wants to tell you, wants you to make the conscious decision to love her despite any past affairs.

But she sure as hell wasn’t going to do it now, while you’re warming up on her water-covered body. And she sure as hell couldn’t let Caitlyn poison your mind with it.

So there she sits, staring into your soul with those loyal eyes that silently swear they’d do anything for you. And, understandably, Vi makes all sense of good judgement Melt from your brain until it’s a useless pile of mush. 

So when Cait nears, practically striding her way to your uneasy soul, you make a decision. 

You kiss Violet. 

It’s a quick shift in atmosphere. One moment, your heart is beating out of fear, and the next it’s being thrashed around your chest by the ascended butterflies from your stomach. You turn in her lap to have easier access to her mouth, and the connection of your plush mouths is anything but fragile. It’s messy, hungry, starved even. Your lips dance in unison, and Vi’s sculpted arm wraps around you and gently holds the back of your neck. The way she’s handling you coupled with the burning water is giving your body a fever. 

You don’t know when Caitlyn sees you, how long she glares at your wet mouths and pressed bodies in pure anger, or how long it takes for her to storm off in defeat, because every inch of your mind is focused on the pinkette holding you as if you’re all she has. 

And it’s this moment that you finally accept the truth that’s kept itself hidden in your gut, you want her. And those sparkly powder-blue eyes are telling you that she wants—needs you too. 

But when you slide your hand down to hers and shyly move her calloused fingers to what little fabric’s covering your chest, she’s pulling back. There’s resistance in the movement, but she forces herself to disconnect from your wanting lips nonetheless. 

“Can’t,” she whispers, breathless.

You freeze, big dazed eyes blinking in confusion and embarrassment. ”But..” is all you can muster before Vi opens her mouth.

“Angel–it’s not that I don’t want this, I’m just—” 

The athlete’s rubbing her temples. Her mind, body, and heart must be at war inside of her, because each is telling her a different path to take, and she looks so conflicted as she speaks. 

“You don’t want this,” she finally decides.

“What?” is all you manage to choke out. 

“You don’t want this.” she repeats, less convinced than the first time it left her lips. 

You can only scoff, attempting to hide the bullet to your heart and ego. 

“You don’t know what I want,” you counter, and the ache in your voice sends a crack through Vi’s heart. “Why are you denying this?” 

Because this is fake, a scheme to get your ex girlfriend off your back. Because I haven’t been completely honest with you, and for that I don’t deserve a sweet love like this. Not yet. 

But instead of that, or even coming clean to you altogether, Vi sighs. And for the first time, her eyes are disloyal, looking anywhere but yours. 

You’re huffing, shoving stiff arms off of you. You pull yourself from the hot tub into the freezing air of the night, a replica of your once blazing heart turning ice cold. 

“Whatever, Violet.” you spit out, and just like that, you’re gone. 

The debate over soul-shredding anxiety and complete peace has come to a halt, because the ache of a pummeled ego and a confused heart that’s afraid to beat outweighs both. 

You didn’t sleep in yours and Vi’s shared room that night. Instead, you grabbed a pillow and stormed over to Mel and Elora’s, who were happy to have you. Making up a lie about dying for a girls’ night, you gossiped and giggled, arguably with a stronger poker face than the Kirammans, before a yawn finally slipped from Mel’s mouth and exhaustion spread throughout the air. 

At last, in the silence of night, salt ridden tears noiselessly slide down the bridge of your nose and pile onto the cool fluff of your pillow. 

As if your lack of adequate sleep and racing mind didn’t have you at your wits end, the next day was twice as cruel on you. Ignoring one athlete was a walk in the park, but avoiding two, while trying not to raise suspicion, is just as hard as it sounds. 

Caitlyn’s in the hallway, so you rush to your room. Violet’s in the room, so you venture off to the spa with Mel and Elora. Caitlyn’s entering the spa right before you finish up, so you’re suggesting a lap of skiing to the girls, but Vi’s exiting the room in her snow gear when you near the door. 

You just couldn’t win. 

So when you hear the soft voice coming from the doorway, you don’t even bother to lift your body from the plush of your blanket. 

“Don’t go,” Vi pleads, gently shutting the wooden door and ridding herself of her puffy jacket. 

The pinkette’s still, waiting for you to move, to do or say something—anything, but you do nothing of the sort. When she concludes it’s safe she takes small, soft steps towards the edge of your bed and you feel the mattress dip under pure muscle. 

With still hands and a timid heart, Vi speaks the first words into the air. 

“Well, we broke our little rule set.”

Her playful smile is uneasy, one made when she examines your weary face too hard. And when she notices the lack of expression on your face, it flattens out into worried brows and soft lips. 

“I’m sorry,” slips from her lips, prompting you to turn your head towards the pinkette. 

“Stop. You don’t have to apologize for your feelings… or lack thereof,” you whisper the last part as if it’s shameful. 

With a sigh, you hoist yourself up to sit straight and lean against the decorative headboard. With fidgeting hands laid in your lap and eyes that travel anywhere but the anxious girl before you, you speak.

“I just thought that there was— something,” you start. “And.. and maybe it’s stupid, but I thought that maybe all of this means something. Maybe my letters getting out wasn’t the worst thing, because maybe things between us could be exactly how I wanted when I was writing them.” 

Vi feels terrible for giving you emotional whiplash, but she can’t stand to see you beating yourself up over something you want— something the both of you crave: eachother. 

Tender fingers snake their way up to your face and hook on your chin, tilting your head towards her alluring orbs. 

“You really believe that?” she asks, eyes squinted.

“Believe.. what?” 

“That I don’t feel things for you?” she asks like the answer is the most obvious thing in the world.

“I couldn’t tell you all the things you do to me. All the ways you make me feel,” she slides the hand that’s cupping your face to gently tap the side of your pretty little head. 

“Here, and.. here,” her finger grazes your skin as it skims down to tap once against your encaptured heart. “And….”

She cuts the sentence short, dropping her hand down to intertwine with one of yours, because you’re supposed to be having a serious conversation, so she needs to focus. 

“You do terribly good things to me, sweetheart.” 

“Then why did you push me away?” you whisper to combat the rapid speed of your heart as adrenaline rushes through your veins from Vi’s simple and sensual touches. 

She contemplates it, ripping the bandage off and telling you the truth, she really does. Would it be that big of a deal? Would you take it with ease and laugh at her anxiety, caressing her like she dreams and letting her finally place a guilt-free kiss upon your soft lips? Or would you crumble at the news, and let the trust you’ve built up shatter with it? 

“I didn’t know whether it was real or not,” she decides: a lie. “I know that the way my heart races for you is real, the realest thing there is. But I know it’s easy to get caught up in a fake high, and when you were kissing me I just—” she sighs at the ramble, but the gentle squeeze you give her hand guides her through it. 

“I just wanted to let you decide if this is really what you want. Not because of Cait or anyone else. Just you.”

She’ll tell you. Eventually. She silently swears it to herself. 

But right now, Vi’s looking at you the same way she did that day, and it’s suffocating. 

Big pretty eyes examine every inch of you with that awestruck gaze, a child watching a shooting star pass by. Except this time, she wouldn’t let you leave. 

This time, you, that creative girl with clammy palms and shy eyes, watching her bubblegum haired love give her a standing ovation— that shooting star would come crashing down and right into the warm arms in which she belongs. 

“The love I have for you.. it never went away, it just transformed,” you confess.

Violet’s once worried expression morphs. She’s still soft, still trapped in the beautiful moment, but there’s a newfound confidence behind her demeanor. 

“The love I have for you has stayed the same. Ever since that stupid writing class—” you giggle at her words, and she does the same, “I think I’ve loved you for years. It’s left such an ache in my heart, baby.” 

There’s a glitch somewhere in your brain, because the athlete’s words mixed with your newest nickname is causing a system overload. 

You’re suddenly very aware of the amber musk filling your nostrils, and Vi’s proximity has you squirming, soft hand gently squeezing at hers which carresses you so gingerly. You’re trapped between the headboard and her oh-so-close body, and it’d be a lie to say any part of you is complaining. 

“I can.. I can make that ache go away,” you whisper, shy head tilting as you wait for her approval. 

The suave, player-like girl is back in full force. With a notorious smirk in place, she’s leaning closer, tilting her head opposite of yours and lining up her plush lips with yours. 

“Yeah, you can.” 

That’s all it takes for your lips to come crashing together at full force. It’s messy, loving, and infuriatingly sexy all at once, and you don’t have any brain power left to think about it. All of your energy, every bit of your soul is being put into showing this girl how you really feel. 

The atmosphere feels heavier and lighter simultaneously in the best way possible. Vi’s kissing you like you’re the air she needs to breathe, and drinking you in like your mouth is water and the torturous years leading up to this have taken place in the desert. 

For the first time, the pair of you silently agree that this is real. Real touches, real passion, real tongues gliding against one another, and real desire for more. 

You hum into Vi’s mouth as she ravishes you, and your hands find their way to tangle in her fluffy scalp as she effortlessly switches places with you and lifts you into her lap while she relaxes back against the headboard. You can’t help but chuckle as her hands move to cup the fat of your ass, causing her to grin through kisses until you finally stop, because your lips are practically peppering her teeth. 

“What’s so funny?” you ask through a snicker. Vi shakes her head, sneaking kisses down your jaw and the stretch of your neck. 

“Nothin’, I just don’t want this to end,” she confesses, ending with a tender kiss to your collarbone. 

An uncontrollable smile fights its way onto your face. 

“Well I’m not going anywhere,” you assure.

She nods, wrapping strong arms around your torso to pull your body as close to hers as possible. 

“Neither am I, sunshine.” 

Violet’s learned three new things since you fell asleep in her arms. 

One, you’re a cuddler. Every inch of you has touched, skimmed, or wrapped around the butch since you laid upon the soft matter of the bed. Her favorite position is when you curl yourself up against her chest and slide a leg inbetween hers to let them intertwine.

Two, every inch of you still smells like that perfect mixture of cotton candy and strawberry she remembers from years ago. 

And three, she’s completely whipped for you. For your brain, your voice, the giggles you make between kisses, the way you give your all to her, and don’t get her started on your body. She’s got it bad. 

So, the struggle she faced when she had to snake out of your grasp was ultimately the hardest thing she’s done in her entire life. 

The love-hazed girl didn’t bother to do anything but slip on some shoes and run a hand through her hair, because within minutes she’d be right back next to you where she belongs. 

At least, that was the plan. 

She doesn’t know why the loud cacophony of cackles catches her attention, because she knows how obnoxious her teammates can be, but it does. She lazily turns her head once, letting it lull back before the alarm of confusion goes off in her brain, and she’s turning towards the sound once again. 

Sevika, a few members of the basketball team, and some others she doesn’t recognize, all sit against the couches and chairs in the lounging area. But there’s no relaxation in the way they rest against the furniture. Each is laced with anticipation, and their eyes all lay on the buff brownskin girl who’s smirks as if she’s discovered a pot of gold. 

“Your voice of honey soothes my soul, and the picture of delicate curls falling to frame your face as you lift me onto my feet will stay forever plastered in my mind,” the woman spits.

The words are so sensual, so raw, so genuine, filled with nothing but passion, but Sevika’s interpretation does it no justice. 

And Violet knows exactly who wrote those words of desire. 

Her feet move quicker than she’s ever felt the need to before. 

When she nears the group, a face of pure determination, she spots it. A brown envelope, decorated with a bow and pretty hearts accompanied by a single kiss mark. So similar to the one you made for Vi all those years ago. 

“There’s the woman of the hour,” Sevika taunts loudly, leaning back in her seat. Her fingers tap the letter in her hands against her own thigh, a reminder that your past words of hope and love still lie with her. “Or, would you be the second? No… no, that’d be this uh, Skye, huh?” 

Sevika’s smile is poisonous, infecting Violet with a rage she’s never experienced before. 

“What are you doing with that?” Vi’s practically seething, eyes trained on the brown paper between Sevika’s fingers.

“Found it on the ground, guess it slipped away from your girl before she could mail it off to her secret lover,” she lies, throwing her hands up in faux innocence. 

“I swear to God— fucking give it to me, and I’ll forget this happened.”

“And you’ll forget that she’s dreaming of someone else’s mouth?” The burly woman scoffs, coming to a stand directly infront of Violet. The space between them is thinning, disintegrated by rageful tension.

“Seriously, I don’t see why you’re going through all this trouble for a whore, pinkie.” 

Faster than anyone in the room can register, Vi’s fist comes up to smash into Sevika’s jaw. The slam is loud, echoing throughout the room until it creates a stunned silence.

Sevika’s hand comes up to hold her jaw, craning it as the metallic taste of blood sets itself on her tongue. 

Within seconds, she’s lunging right at Vi. Their fists look like skin colored blobs in the air from how fast they land punches to one another’s guts. They’re thrashing around in anger, threatening the space they reside in, before four onlookers break them apart.

Some whoop and holler, others laugh and speculate exactly who ‘won’, but neither of the girls care. Through their heavy panting and darkened gazes, they’re only focused on one thing: the brown envelope that now lies between Vi’s fingers. 

With a cocky, bruised grin and the satisfying drug of adrenaline, Violet turns on her heels and stumbles out of sight. 

[REDACTED]: listen, toots. i have a better plan.  … [REDACTED]: I’m listening. 

With the way neither of you dare to move, any third party would think the two of you are paralyzed; and you are, by love.

It’s been five minutes since you’ve woken up, and Vi’s sweet gaze keeps you in a warm, butterfly inducing trance. Neither of you move from your position in the bed, savouring deep synced breaths, snuggling under the blankets, and wrapping around one another. You’re sticking together like your feelings are superglue. 

Finally, one of the pinkette’s hands rubs at the small of your back, drawing sweet nothings on your dimples and the line that trails up your perfect torso. 

“I haven’t slept that long in ages,” you hum, making Violet pull you just a bit closer. 

“Maybe you should sleep with me every night,” she concludes, sending you a smile that has you giggling with a little ‘oh sure’. 

She sees your sweet bubble of happiness wobble when your eyes squint at the sight of her chin, now decorated with a blossomed bruise. A soft hand comes up to graze the purple mark as you ask, “When did that happen?” 

As fast as the pinkette opens her mouth to speak, it shuts. Because she definitely can’t tell you that Sevika’s tried to embarrass you by reading one of your old love letters to a group of your classmates. Why has she become more of a pain now than ever? Vi hasn’t figured that out yet. But she has come to one conclusion: worrying you wouldn’t do any good. What you didn’t have to know, you wouldn’t. 

She quickly takes your wandering hand in hers, intertwining fingers and giving them a little squeeze. 

“I’m fine, sunshine. Got up all hazy last night to turn the light off since we forgot. Completely ran into the wall, that’s all.” Although Vi isn’t a klutz, it seems like a perfectly plausible story, so you don’t push. 

You only chuckle, shaking your head. “Be more careful. I have to get you home in one piece.” 

A soft smile spreads across her face, and she’s kissing your knuckles while responding. “Of course, angel.” 

While you scolded Vi about her bruises, you were set up to get some of your own. 

“Vi I’m not sure if this is a great idea,” you worry, looking down at the girl who gets on her knees to lace up your skates. 

The freezing temperature kissed your nose a subtle hint of red, but the beautiful sunlight gently coating the flurry white wonderland that surrounded the city made up for it. All around you, classmates and city locals of all ages glide around the ice rink with glee. Sounds of love, joy, and the squeals or laughter of tripping inexperienced-skaters fill your ears. 

“Why not?” she asks, eyes flickering up to yours for just a second before moving on to the other foot. The picture of her is just all too much, and you have to look away to regather your thoughts. 

“I know that you’re a hockey player so this may come as a shock to you, but not everyone is good at ice skating,” she grins, rolling her eyes at your sarcasm. “I’m just gonna fall on my ass a bunch,” you whine.

“And I’ll be right there to pick you back up.” Vi’s confidence melts away your worries. Finally, as she finishes with your skates, you playfully roll your eyes and come to a stand (with the help of her strong hands). 

The thinning space between you two and your starry eyes which look up at Vi keep her in a trance as her arms mindlessly wrap around your waist, hands dangerously close to your ass. 

“Promise not to let me go?” you whisper through a grin.

“Shit. I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

And she doesn’t. Through your first steps and little slips on the ice, Vi stands right beside you, holding your hand with tender care. 

“This is pretty romantic, right?” she hums in your ear as you attempt to push your feet against the ice like she taught you. 

“As long as I don’t completely eat it.” you warn, eyes trained to the ice.

She snickers.

“Well, you look sexy when you’re focused, I’ll give you that.”

Butterflies erupt throughout your stomach, and a warmth is travelling up your body as you look at Violet with a faux sternness. 

“Quiet. You’re distracting me,” you tease.

Vi’s tongue pokes at the inside of her cheek in thought before she’s letting go of your hand and coming to stand right infront of you. Sculpted arms snake around your waist, and the lack of space between you two as Vi stares with a hungry gaze is making your body feel weak. 

“I’m distracting you, sweetheart?” 

You quietly suck in a breath of icy cold air, searching for a response in her pretty powder-blue eyes before she snickers once more, stepping back. At last, you feel like you can breathe.

She takes you around the ice, helping you reach a good foundation to feel comfortable skating on your own, and the ‘good job, baby’ she praises you with sends a sweet sensation throughout your body. As you’re gliding away from her, giggling in surprise as she pretends to chase you with her intimidating hockey stance, a group of her teammates call for her attention.

She pauses, breath kissing your ear as she lets go of your body. “I’ll just be a second, yeah?” 

You nod, sending her off to the group with a smile. 

And for a moment, everything’s perfect. Until it isn’t. 

The call of your name from her mouth freezes your body faster than the chill of the ice ever could. Effortlessly, Caitlyn’s gliding up to you with a calculated and calm expression. She knows you can’t get far in those skates. 

First, you’re praying that Vi will look over at you and race back just in time to save you. Then, anger’s bubbling in the pit of your stomach, and you whip around to make eye contact with the navy-haired girl. Finally—

“What, Caitlyn?” you snap without hesitation. 

The girl’s expression refuses to waver, and toned arms are crossing with the notorious sly smirk of a Kiramman. “Never thought I’d see you with blades on your feet.” 

“Never thought I’d see you begging for attention, but here we are,” you quip, placing your hands on your hips, completely distracted from the ice below you. 

Her arms uncross with an amused hum, and for a moment you think that maybe she’s getting off on the negative energy you throw her way. But then she begins to push her skates against the ice, slowly circling you. 

“I just thought I’d check in on you, sweetheart. You’ve forgotten to answer my calls and texts–”

“You know damn well I haven’t forgotten, Cait—”

“—And I wanted to applaud you in person for being so understanding about what happened with Violet and I.”

She comes to a stop, and so does your heart. The little red organ skips a beat before continuing, pace matching your weariness. 

“What are you talking about?” you question, brows furrowed so innocently that Caitlyn has to stop herself from laughing.

“She hasn’t told you?” The bluenette makes no attempt to act shocked. Your eyes lock, and her skates scrape against the ice until she’s hovering right over you. 

“Weren’t you wondering where she slept after you left her at the jacuzzi?” The visible air that blows from her mouth is just as harsh as her words, stabbing your heart with its icicles.  

“What are you..” you mutter, but the words die in your throat.

“Vi and I had a… rekindling.” Her head tilts with a cocky smile. “It was bound to happen I suppose. Once a hookup, always a—”

“I don’t believe you.” Your stern words contradict the uncertainty tainting your voice. 

Caitlyn doesn’t speak. She simply reaches into her back pocket, pulls out her phone, and scrolls to open her messages with Vi, gently placing the device into your quivering fingers.

Really? My ex girlfriend? You’re a class act. i’ll love her better than you ever could, caitlyn Is this to get back at me? You’re the one who ended our little affair. stop texting my number. Come to think of it, I never told her about us.  Does she even know?  fucking drop it cait You have until the end of the trip.  If you don’t tell her, I will. you don’t care whether she knows or not. you just want her crawling back to you. not happening.  I’ll tell her.

“You see it now? How easy it was for her to lie to you? She doesn’t love you, not like I do.” 

“Angel?” Vi’s voice calls out. The once sweet melody to your ears now erupts a symphony of confusion and anger inside of you. Did she plan out those nicknames?

Before you know it, Vi’s coming up behind you and placing an arm around your waist. Instead of feeling comfort, you’re suffocated. How can she fake it so easily?

“Can I help you?” the pink haired girl spits to the Kiramman with a voice of pure disgust. How could you have known?

“I was just leaving,” Caitlyn hums. With the fulfilling sight of your aghast eyes and Violet’s hidden panic, she skates off. 

The two of you are uncomfortably quiet for a moment. Your body’s still, save for the racing thoughts in your mind, but when Vi’s hand on you tightens you’re breaking from her grasp.

And then she sees it.

The broken gaze in your sorrowful eyes, the one look she desperately wanted to avoid. Her worst nightmare has become her reality. 

And you see it.

The way her gaze goes from calm and collected to a deer in headlights. It’s like a switch was flipped in her brain, and Violet’s mask comes off as she speaks. 

“I can explain—”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your heartbroken voice drowns her out. 

“You don’t understand,” she pleas, but you’re pushing your weight into one foot in an attempt to turn yourself around on the ice.

“I understand perfectly fine you backstabbing–”

Your knees come slamming into the icy ground with a thud, and the newly proclaimed backstabber is at your side, attempting to lift you onto your feet. You shove her off with a huff, using one knee to come to a wobbly stand. 

“Just..” you start, ignoring the tears of frustration that bubble in the corners of your eyes, accompanied by the prickly curse in your throat. “Just stay away from me, Vi.” 

And you’re gone.

Vi obeys your wishes and leaves you alone like you asked.

But only for the next two hours, while she figures out what the hell she’s going to say to make up for the pain she’s caused you. Because she did hook up with Cait, but the last time was was months ago, before either of them had anything with you. Because she knows Cait did something to fuck with your head, and now her baby’s fretting and scared to trust anyone. Because she’s in love with you and only you, and she’s never going to forgive herself if she doesn’t get you back. 

So when she slips into your shared room and finds you packing your things, she braces herself for the yelling and cussing she expects to come.

But, it never happens. Instead, you look at her with a woeful expression, and turn back to your open luggage with a scoff. 

“I knew Caitlyn was fucked up, but I never imagined you’d have as many screws loose. You’ll be perfect for each other,” you spit, the words acid to Violet. Manicured hands move at a fast pace, roughly tossing in clothes and skin products like they mean nothing to you. “And I know we’re not actually dating, but to fuck the one person we’re trying to lie to? Then come to me the next day acting like you…” you trail off, discarding the sentence like trash, but she knows what you were trying to say: like you love me. 

Wait, what?

“Hold on, hold on. I haven’t fucked Kiramman.”

“..So you weren’t with her the night I slept in Mel’s room?” you squint.

“Fuck no. It’s been months since we’ve hooked up, angel. Like, before you and her were even a thing–”

“So you did fuck! Jesus, why didn’t you tell me?” you raise your voice in question, whipping around to face the girl with exhausted body language. When Vi’s mouth hangs open with no clue of a better response than ‘I was scared’, you shake your head, coming to conclusions yourself.

“That’s why you did this, right? I should’ve asked more about why you proposed this whole scheme,” you start, walking towards the nightstand. “Make me look like an idiot? Get back at Cait? Get with Cait? What was it?” 

“No– no. I was going to tell you angel, God I swear, I just didn’t know how to tell you without making it hurt. I don’t want anything with Caitlyn, cross my heart, her and I are history. Everything I said about you– everything I felt with you is real.” She’s speaking so tenderly, inching closer to your frame.

And you would’ve turned, would’ve calmed down enough to finish this conversation civilly, maybe believe her. 

But instead, you’re staring at the opened drawer of the bedside table, right at the chesnut brown envelope decorated with hearts. The same one you wrote for Skye all those years ago. 

You’re completely over this.

Violet’s close enough to see everything now. The envelope and letter, the way your face is morphing through thousands of different expressions, and the tears that finally begin to slide down your cheeks as you lift the paper into the air and choke out words.

“Why the hell do you have this? How much did you plan to humiliate me, huh?” you ask through sweet sobs.

Violet sighs, because everything she’s kept from you is hitting her. All of her mistakes are crashing down upon her at once. All she wants is to fix it for you. 

“That’s not– fuck this looks bad.” She’s cursing herself for everything she didn’t tell you, all the chances she had to come clean and never did out of fear. 

“Sevika had it and I took it from her. We fought over it and I hid it here because I didn’t want you to be embarrassed. That’s all. I swear.” 

She watches your glossy eyes flicker to her bruised jaw that you touched so lovingly that morning, to her eyes that beg you to forgive her, and to your bag as you walk towards it.

“Well you don’t have to worry about me anymore, Violet. This– us, whatever we are is done. ” You knuckle away your tears, sniffing and pulling at the handle of your suitcase.

The pinkette takes no action to hide the dread that fills her face, quickly following your motion around the room. 

“So we’re just breaking–” she stops. Her heart is racing at an ungodly speed, and the next words come out as a horrified mumble, “We’re just over? Like that?” 

There’s a pregnant pause, and for the last time, you look back at Vi, voice clear. 

“We were never together, Violet.” 

There’s nothing she can say to rebuttal, or stop you from walking out of that room, because despite both of your desires, it was true. 

For the next two days, your bed becomes your safe haven. You put your phone on ‘do not disturb’, wrap yourself in the thickest blanket your apartment has, and hide from the rest of the world. It’s only thanks to Mel, who’s worried to death, that you remember to eat every once in a while.

Safe to say, you’re a wreck. 

Three soft knocks on your bedroom door prompt you to roll over, and you’re pulling your head from the covers as the aforementioned beauty enters the room with a plated sandwich in hand. 

“I have something for that headache of yours,” she offers, setting the platter on your bedside table and sitting at the edge of the soft mattress. 

From your blanket-clad vision, you see her lips press together in thought before she finally decides on her carefully sculpted words. 

“I talked to Abby,” she starts. You groan, pulling yourself back under the blankets.

“Listen,” she scolds, and you bite your tongue. Hard. “I talked to Abby and she says Violet slept in her room that night. She was moping about you the entire time.” 

“She didn’t tell me about her and Caitlyn,” you seethe.  

“No, but she said she was going to, right?” She offers, tilting her head. “In the end, does it really change anything about how you two feel towards each other?” 

When you don’t respond, she sighs, patting your blanket and coming to a stand. 

“It’s your decision what you do, but I can tell Violet really cares about you. And I think you feel the same.”

With that, she’s stepping out of the room and gently closing your door with a click.  

Almost immediately, your head pokes out of the blanket, and your gaze travels to your now black lockscreen lighting up.

One message from Caitlyn.

caitlyn: Are you ready to apologize to me? I’ll still take you back. 

You block her number. Something you should’ve done a long time ago. 

Then, you check the three messages from Vi. 

superstar <3: i know you want me to leave you alone, and i’m trying my hardest to please let me talk to you angel whenever you’re ready to hear me out

You can only sigh. 

“I don’t know how else to get this through to both of you.”

Coach Talis’s sharp tongue scolds the winded athletes. Sweat is dripping down every inch of their skin under their heavy gear. While their teammates ended practice an hour ago, they were here running drills for the ‘stunt’ they pulled back at Mt. Sky. If it weren’t for the exhaustion capturing their bodies, they’d be pummeling each other this very second.

“I’m this close to benching both of you, and you know I don’t want to do that.” Both girls rapidly shake their heads.

“This better be the last time I hear of an incident regarding the both of you, do you understand?” The tanned man snaps, and both athletes are throwing out soft “yes coach”’s before he waves them off to the locker room. 

Throughout her entire shower, Violet’s brain is focused on two things. One, how much she loathes Sevika (fuck her), and two, how much she fucking misses you. 

Throughout her time spent drying herself off, getting redressed, and packing her backpack, she prays for a text, call, something from you. When she hears the buzz of a phone, she’s whipping her head around to face her lockscreen (with her favorite picture of you looking effortlessly beautiful and silly simultaneously). 

It’s not until the second buzz goes off that she realizes it’s not her phone that’s being blown up, but Sevika’s. 

Despite better judgement, she curiously walks over to the device, reaching down to pick it up with careless hands.

And it almost drops from her calloused fingers in shock. 

There’s three notifications from ‘C. Kiramman’.

c. kiramman: That worked better than I thought. You’re not as dumb as you look.  c. kiramman: I think our work together is done. C. Kiramman sent you $300!

You’re at war with yourself.

Your brain is clawing at you to block Violet, get yourself together, and move on with your life as if she was never a part of it.

Your heart and every inch of hope that fills you is begging for you to pick up your phone and give her a chance to prove that it was all a case of bad timing, misunderstandings, and that you truly mean something to her. Because you want her, you can finally admit it, but you’re deathly afraid of being made a fool of.

You’d skipped classes for the day, pulled yourself from your sheets, showered, and now sit on your black couch with a little sigh, sinking into the fluffy matter. The silence of the apartment is contrasting the swarm of loud thoughts inside your mind, and before it can drive you utterly insane, the doorbell rings. 

“Angel?” That sweet voice calls out.

You rise to your feet embarrassingly fast. Your brain waves a white flag and your heart dances in success. 

When you swing the door open, it takes everything in you to keep yourself from jumping into Violet’s arms. She’s worried out of her mind, but the surprise that you even opened the door is giving her a jolt of hope and encouragement. You take in her presence, musk amber scent, oversized jacket that once protected your arms, and all. 

“I’m so sorry,” spills from her lips, and you scan her expression before stepping to the side. 

“Come in.” 

You and Vi sit on opposite ends of your couch. You’re trying to show off your self control, but she’s just glad you’ll sit next to her at all. 

“I’m so sorry that I didn’t tell you about my past with Caitlyn. I was scared that you’d hate me, and shit it all just caught up with me before I could grow some balls and rip the bandaid off.” 

You’ve never seen her look so worried, so vulnerable. 

You take one scoot closer. 

“But I promise, I ended things with her a long time ago and that was the last time we ever did anything.”

She’s pulling out her phone, opening the photos app, and setting her phone down face up on the cushions for you to take. You do, picking it up with weary fingers, ones that still when you see the material she’s revealing.

“Caitlyn hired Sevika to fuck with us. That time at the party, all those times she got me in shit at practice, taking your letter, even giving Caitlyn the idea of lying that I did something with her. They’ve been trying to get inbetween us for a long time.” 

Your mouth is slightly agape as you scroll through monetary payments and texts from your ex. Ones about her getting you back (fuck that), and others about Sevika getting the spotlight once Vi’s burnt out and screwing up at hockey (again, fuck that). 

“I get why you’re pissed at me, and I understand if you want me out of your life forever.” It shakes her to even utter those words. “But I…” 

She’s biting her lip, and you watch as she pulls a neatly folded piece of loose leaf paper from her pocket. With embarrassment flushing her face, she sets it on the couch for you to take.

“What’s this?” you ask softly, taking it in your hands and gently unfolding.

“Please don’t read it out loud.” 

Your heart quickens at the suspense, and your fingers come to a stop as Violet’s handwriting fills your vision. 

Dear _____, 

Oh my god.

The words fill your mind and apparently show through your eyes, because when you look at Violet once more, she’s looking more sheepish than ever.

With a deep breath, you read. 

I’ve been in love with you for so long, longer than I ever realized, and I never knew how much it warmed my heart and brightened my days until I lost you. The way your eyes light up when you laugh, the loud laugh that takes over your body when we’re alone, the quiet moments we shared, where we didn’t need words, just the way our hands fit together so perfectly. How being near you made everything feel like it was right, even when nothing else made sense. All of the little things that make you, you, have become the moments I crave most. 

I know I’ve messed up. Been too wrapped up inside my head and covered in fear to tell you the entire truth, but I miss us. I miss your laugh, your smile, the way we would talk about everything and nothing all at once. I wrapping my arm around your waist or kissing your neck cheek nose forehead and feeling like everything was right in the world when we were together. And I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to lose you. I’m not asking for everything to go back to normal right away, because I know things take time. But I want to try again, if you’ll let me.

You’re worth every second, every inch of love that exists throughout my blood, and I will spend the rest of my days trying to show you just how much you mean to me.

-With all my love, yours truly, Violet

In the eleventh grade, you thought you loved Violet more than humanely possible.

Now, you wonder how shocked your younger self would be to hear that amount has grown exponentially. 

"I know it's bad. I'm not a genius like you bu-"

Lips smashing into hers silence any worries that the letter didn’t do its job. Your plush mouthes press against one another’s with a passion so deep, so genuine, that it speaks louder than any words you’ve spoken; louder than any love letter either of you have written. 

You faintly pull back, giggling breathily as Vi chases your lips with a look sweet enough to give you a heart attack. With touching foreheads and closed, relaxed eyes, you use the same words as when you first fell in love with her. Except this time– you say them out loud. 

“From my happily raised eyebrows to my.. gosh however I worded it. Y’know that was so corny now that I think about it,” you begin to whisper, and giggles erupt from both of your mouthes. You hum, placing another chaste kiss on her swollen lips. “I love you, Violet Vanderson. I really, really love you.” 

The warmth radiating from your soul and the heat of your intertwined bodies is all too much. It does anything but help when Violet places soft kisses on your cheek, ones that trail down to your jaw and the base of your neck as she gently pulls you into her lap. 

“Do you–” she places a kiss, “forgive me?” The suck and lick she gives to your neck sends a shudder down your spine. Wait, what’d she ask again? 

“I don’t know,” you hum teasingly, feeling her smirk against your wet skin. “I think you should work for it.” 

“Whatever you want. Tell me what you want, baby.” 

Fuck. How can words make your eyes roll into the back of your head? 

“Want you to—” 

You gasp as she slides her tongue down your neck, coming to kiss at your collarbones.

“Use your words, sweet girl,” she whispers sensually. 

“Fuck. I want you.” 

That’s all she needs, and Violet’s sliding a cold hand up your shirt, inching it up slowly over your bra and refusing to break eye contact. The action has you whimpering into submission, and you huff.

“You’re such a tease.” You complain.

“You’ll take it,” she hums, finally pulling the shirt over your head and going straight for the clasp of your bra. 

You take the time to trail a hand under her own shirt, letting your finger tips trail over her abs, and you gasp as your already hard nipples twitch from the newfound cold air when Vi tosses your bra to the side. 

“God you’re beautiful,” is the last thing she says before diving head first into your chest. The room is filled with soft kissing sounds, wet licks and pop’s from Vi’s mouth on your nubs, and your moans of pleasure when she twists at whatever nipple isn’t getting her mouth’s attention.

“Vi– babe please. Need you now.” 

She groans against your sensitive skin, releasing you from her mouth. 

“Need me now, baby?” The girl mocks your neediness with a smirk.

“Yeah, yes please,” you whimper out, and she snickers at how you’re already too dazed to focus. 

She decides she’s played with your tits enough (for now), and pulls you right back into a messy, tongue infested kiss as she flips your position. You lean against the couch as she reluctantly separates your lips, sliding kisses down the middle of your torso as her strong hands work at pulling down your pants terribly slowly. 

Once they’re off, and you think you’re free as she runs a finger along the middle of your panties, right over your clothed heat. She hums at the way you buck forward. Her just graze along the seam as you speak. 

“I’m not– mmm, feeling very forgiving right now…” you scold, eyes so gone that Violet has to stop herself from apologizing. 

“Do you want my mouth or fingers to change that?” she asks, and she can’t hold back the laugh any longer when your eyes unknowingly light up. 

“Mouth– both– Vi anything, just give me it now.” 

She laughs, finally pulling your underwear down at a reasonable pace and scolding you gently.

“We’ll work on fixing your tone another time.” 

She leaves the tiny fabric hanging off one of your delicate ankles, mumbling something about how fuckable you look sprawled out for her like this. The girl’s quick to effortlessly spread your legs, and she gulps at how slick and glistening your cunt is all for her. 

“Fuck me, baby,” she mutters in awe.

“I’m trying to,” you whine, taking her back to the present where you and your body are completely at her mercy.

Finally, your prayers are answered, and she’s licking a clean line straight up your pussy, taking a river of juices with her pleasure-inducing tongue. 

As if the taste enchants her, Vi’s dropping her head down to your needy heat. Her tongue lulls out, swirling against your clit, your hole, anywhere she can make you feel good. It’s not long before two thick fingers plunge into you, and you’re throwing your head back. 

“Oh my god, please please– yes.”

“Please? Please what, sweetheart?” she mocks once more. Your moans motivate the muscle-flexing girl to go deeper, go faster, and she has to hold you still when you arch from how sweet her digits hit your g-spot. 

The way she’s drinking your cunt sucks away your thoughts as well, and it’s not until she hands a harsh slap to your ass that you’re blinking, babbling something about needing to cum. 

“You can do it baby, yeah good girl. Fuck.” 

Sweet praises decorated with the perfect mixture of her fingers, tongue, and the lust-laced eye contact send you over the edge, and your loud moans carry throughout the entire space as you finish. 

Vi’s tools don’t stop, not until you’ve completely come down from the best high of your life, not until your shaky hand is gently placing itself over hers in silent appreciation. 

When your heavy pants are all that’s left to be heard, she kisses your cunt goodbye and says hello to your lips. A strong hand on the back of your head keeps your mouth pressed against hers, and you love it. Because you’re sure you could twist lips with this girl until you pass out from forgetting to breathe. 

“Taste yourself?” she whispers once her tongue’s slid out of your mouth. You can only nod, relishing in the way her arms wrap around your body, a silent insinuation that you’re hers to protect.

With a hum, you’re kissing both of her cheeks, then her nose and forehead in thanks as her chin rests against your chest.

“I guess that was a good enough apology.” You fake dissatisfaction, completely ignoring the way your body presses even further into hers while you smooth a hand through her hair. 

She snickers in disbelief.

“Think you need another? Just to see how sorry I am, of course.” 

You hum, finally shrugging with an inconcealable smile.

“I guess that’d work.” 

Vi makes no complaint, because why on earth would she, and she’s kissing a line right back where she started.

“Is this too over the top? The number six was fine but the hand prints? Do I look like a high schooler? Be honest—” 

Mel cuts off your babbling with a laugh. “You didn’t want to look like a high schooler?” 

You’re whining from your position in the stands, and Mel’s apologizing for her joke as she confirms you look amazing. “Vi’s already seen you, and she seemed to love it,” she coos in your ear, bumping her hip against yours as you laugh. 

And the girl’s right. Throughout the game, Vi’s taken glances at you every second she gets. She’s grinning at the pink body paint handprints that travel up your legs, winking when you blow her kisses everytime your gazes lock, chuckling at how loud you get when you cheer ‘go Vi!’, and don’t get her started on how you’re body is clad in her big jersey. 

Yeah, she’s completely whipped. 

There’s only two minutes left in the game, and the Piltover Knights are winning 2-4. But you’re not entirely focused on the screaming atmosphere or Vi’s upcoming victory, because all you can think about is how hot and aggressive your girlfriend looks in her element.

There’s a jolt of joy that zips up your body, because: yeah, that’s your girlfriend. 

The horn chugs to signal the end of the match and the crowd’s roaring with glee, especially you and Mel, who jump up and down while screaming out for your respective players. 

Vi throws you a toothy smile from the ice, one that you see again after she exits the locker room and comes to find ‘her girl’ in the loitering crowd. 

She embraces and lifts you into the air, spinning you around as if you’re a feather in her grasp. Each giggle that spills from your lips is more joyous than the last, just like every moment you spend together. 

“You were so cool out there! Never seen you look so mad and focused,” you praise your pink-haired girl as she sets you down, placing a warm kiss to the top of your head.

“That’s because you bring out the good in me. I’m usually all rude and scary and—”

“With that hair?” you tease, ruffling your hand through her fluff. “You’re not fooling anybody, pinkie.” 

Vi’s jaw drops in shock. 

“Pinkie?” she repeats with a squinted gaze. 

A beat passes, and you’re turning to run away, but it’s too late. The athlete lunges forward, wrapping her arms around your core to trap you as you fake complain in protest, but giggles are soon falling from your mouth and breaking your character. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” her playful words kiss your ear.

“Oh whatever, you love me.” you grin through the claim, turning your head to have her beautiful face in your vision. 

Vi’s smile softens into something genuine as she scans over your pretty face. Your astonishing, stunning– fuck there are so many things she could say about your face, about your heart, about your brain, about you. 

“Yeah. I really, really do.” 

Sparkled blue eyes connect with yours, and they’re sending you into a trance as you’re lured into a tender kiss. 

With every kiss, the world around you is drowned out until it’s just you and Violet. Your minds, bodies, and hearts intertwine, and with each connection of your lips, you taste everything she feels.

It’s perfect, even better than you could’ve imagined from that creative writing class, and it gets better everyday that you live the reality.

From the grasp of your passionate kiss, as colors of blue, auburn, chestnut brown and more pass by you, you smile knowing that safe in your arms lies your perfect pink. 

©silknspice

[aardelea]

How does he react to catcalling?

Hey there!

Thank you so much for your request, and my sincerest apologies for how long this took—I’ve been completely swamped with work and just couldn’t find the time to get to it sooner. I really hope the Anon who originally asked for this still gets to read it!

I have to admit, I struggled a bit with this headcanon. I’ve experienced catcalling myself, but never when someone was with me. And since everyone reacts differently and the circumstances are always unique, it was quite challenging to figure out how each character would realistically respond. That said, I hope the final result still resonates with you.

Since your lover’s reaction would largely depend on how you respond, let’s assume for the sake of simplicity that everything happens so quickly, you don’t even have the time to react.

Happy reading! 😊

You finally have some free time and decide to go for a stroll through the city—maybe grab a bite together or run a few errands. Since there's no convenient way for you to head there together, you agree to meet directly in town. The designated meeting point is a public transit stop, where you’re already waiting in a great mood, excited to see your boyfriend.

However, your mood quickly sours when a young man approaches, flashing you a sleazy grin. He whistles and, as he gets closer, says, "Hey there, sweetheart. Nice ass." He smirks as he walks past, completely oblivious to the fact that, at that very moment, your man is approaching from the opposite direction.

Jin

Frustrated that he wasn’t there in time to prevent the situation altogether, Jin doesn’t waste a second. He immediately steps in front of the guy, blocking his way.

The stranger halts in confusion, swallowing any irritation he might have had about nearly bumping into someone—because Jin’s icy stare alone is enough to freeze him in place. Without a word, Jin grabs him by the collar and yanks him toward you, none too gently. Whatever the guy tries to stammer out is ignored. Once he’s standing right in front of you, Jin simply states, “Apologize.” He doesn’t even need to use his Stigma—the demand alone is enough to make the guy comply.

How long this ordeal lasts depends entirely on the stranger. Jin won’t be satisfied until the guy is on his knees, sobbing and begging for forgiveness. And if he needs a little extra motivation? Well, a swift nudge to the knees or a none-too-gentle smack to the back of the head should do the trick.

Even if you try to intervene, Jin won’t let up until he deems justice served. Once he’s finally satisfied, he lets the guy go, casually drapes an arm around your shoulders, and walks off with you. “Never settle for second-rate. You’re worth more.”

Tohma

A true gentleman, Tohma takes care of his lady. No random punk is going to get away with dumping his unresolved perversions on you. He strides up to the guy, blocking his way with his usual unreadable grin. Outwardly, he looks calm, but inside? He’s absolutely seething.

"Well, well. What do we have here? Surely I must’ve misheard. It almost sounded like you said something wildly inappropriate to the lovely lady behind you." The guy just scoffs and replies, "Dude, are you deaf? Get outta my way, three-eyes."

Tohma sighs theatrically. “And here I was, hoping we could handle this the easy way…” You watch as he leans in and whispers something in the guy’s ear—something you can’t quite hear. When he pulls back, he’s still grinning, hands casually stuffed in his pockets. The guy, however, stands there frozen for a solid few seconds before quickly turning to you, bowing deeply. "I deeply apologize, ma'am. My behavior was highly inappropriate. I wish you a pleasant day." His eyes flick nervously toward Tohma, who only smirks and says, "See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?"

Without hesitation, the guy scurries off. Tohma turns back to you, offering his arm with an easy smile. "Shall we, beautiful?"

Luca

Luca is a man of honor. There’s no way he’d ever let something happen to you under his watch. That’s why he’s frustrated—no, downright disappointed in himself—for not arriving earlier to stop this from happening in the first place.

Without hesitation, he steps in front of the guy, blocking his path. “That is no way to speak to a lady. Not in Japan, not anywhere in the world. Apologize.”

"Dude, what’s your problem? Move," the guy snaps, attempting to push past him. But Luca isn’t budging. At first, he still seems composed—polite, even—but his gaze darkens with every second. "Maybe you didn’t hear me the first time," he says, his voice lower now. "Apologize for your unacceptable behavior. Or I’ll make you."

The stranger hesitates when he notices Luca’s hands clenching into fists. Begrudgingly, he turns to you, gives a half-hearted bow, and mutters an apology. Then, glaring back at Luca, he asks, "Happy now?" Luca’s only response is a cold, "I better not see you anywhere near her again." He doesn’t even bother watching him leave—his attention is immediately back on you, making sure you’re okay.

Kaito

Kaito might call himself a coward, but his actions tell a different story. When it really matters, he always pushes through his fears. And seeing you in distress? That’s more than enough to make him act.

Is he scared? Absolutely. Does the idea of a confrontation terrify him? More than anything. But will he let that stop him from standing up for you? Never.

Whispering a few words of encouragement to himself, he clenches his fists, marches up to the guy, and grabs his shoulder, spinning him around. "What the hell do you think you’re saying to my girlfriend?! Apologize!" His attempt at a deep, commanding voice comes out… well, more like a high-pitched shriek.

The guy barely spares him a glance before slapping his hand away and walking off with a dismissive, "Man, you’re nuts." Kaito, now fuming, yells after him about how he clearly has no manners and must’ve been raised by wolves. After throwing in a few extra insults for good measure, he rushes to you, wrapping a protective—and slightly trembling—arm around your shoulders. "Are you okay? I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner. Please tell me you’re okay…"

Alan

Just as the guy turns to leave, he suddenly collides with something—or rather, someone. Hard. He stumbles back, landing unceremoniously on his ass, cursing loudly. "Dude, watch where you’re—" His words die in his throat the moment he looks up and meets Alan’s impassive stare.

The guy sees nothing but blank indifference. But you? You know Alan better than most. And you can tell he’s barely keeping his fury in check.

"Do you think that’s an appropriate way to speak to a woman?" Alan asks coolly, unmoving. The guy quickly shakes his head. "Then apologize." The silence stretches as the guy hesitates—until Alan’s voice cuts through the air again, sharper this time. "Now."

The guy scrambles to his feet, turning to you with a deep bow, stammering out rushed apologies. "I-I’m so sorry, miss, that was incredibly rude of me… I didn’t mean to…" Alan steps closer, his gaze still pinned on him. Once the guy finally finishes groveling, Alan simply says, "That’s enough. Leave."

As soon as the guy scurries away, Alan steps to your side, his expression softening just a fraction as he looks at you. "Are you alright?"

Sho

Even though Sho is usually a pretty laid-back guy, he takes your well-being very seriously. If you show even the slightest sign of discomfort after what just happened, he will react immediately.

In his usual relaxed manner, he approaches the guy, casually placing an arm around his shoulder as if they were old friends. With a not-so-gentle turn, he maneuvers the startled stranger toward you.

“She really is quite attractive, isn’t she?” With these words, they stop right in front of you. “Why don’t you tell us what else you find so great about my girlfriend? Please, I’d love to hear your opinion.”

Judging by how intimidated the guy looks while futilely trying to escape Sho’s grip, you almost feel sorry for him. Almost. “This is a huge misunderstanding. Seriously, man! I didn’t know she had a boyfriend!”

“I don’t see how that makes anything better. Come on now, apologize.” … “S-s-sorry.” The stranger’s stammering is barely comprehensible, and any confidence he had before is completely gone. After some further insistence from Sho, a somewhat coherent apology finally comes out. Sho then pushes him away with a “See? That wasn’t so hard,” before turning back to you. “You really do attract these kinds of guys like a magnet, huh?” he teases as he casually drapes an arm around your shoulders and starts walking toward the city center.

Leo

Leo knows exactly the type of guy with that sleazy expression and can sense what’s about to happen before it even unfolds. Since he can’t prevent it, he decides to take a different approach to protect his girlfriend’s honor. He pulls out his phone and starts a livestream—just in time to catch the guy’s sleazy remark.

“And this, my dear viewers…” He switches his camera to selfie mode, filming himself with a cheerful expression as he moves in sync with the stranger, casually throwing an arm around his shoulder so that both of their faces are in the frame. “… is exactly the kind of pathetic guy who thinks it’s okay to harass women. Say hello to our audience, loser.”

“What the…?” The moment the livestream comments start flooding in, the guy realizes what’s happening. Panicked, he wriggles out of Leo’s grip and bolts. “Looks like he’s suddenly feeling a little embarrassed, huh? So, ladies watching this stream—watch out for this guy. Now, if you’ll excuse me...”

He abruptly ends the livestream, and by the time he reaches you, he looks visibly upset. “I seriously can’t take my eyes off you for one second, can I?” His tone is sharp, but you’ve been with Leo long enough to hear the concern beneath it. He glances over his shoulder one last time before turning back to you, wrapping an arm lovingly around your waist.

“Come on. You get to choose which restaurant you’re treating me to.” Before you can protest, he plants a kiss on your forehead, and for just a split second, you catch the softest, most affectionate smile on his lips.

Haru

Haru is naturally a peaceful person who avoids conflicts whenever possible. However, he also has a strong protective instinct, so he would step in immediately if he saw someone—especially you—being harassed.

Since he prefers a calm approach when dealing with people (except when he’s with friends), he quietly walks up to the stranger, placing a hand on his shoulder. His demeanor is more de-escalating than threatening.

“That’s really not a good way to treat someone. Don’t you think you should apologize?” Unfortunately, even the best advice rarely gets through to people like this. The guy angrily slaps Haru’s hand away and snaps at him to keep his hands off.

Haru sighs, watching the guy walk away with a disappointed look before turning to you and gently wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I’m sorry that happened to you. Are you okay?” He will spend the rest of the day trying to distract you from what happened, making sure to give you plenty of sweet compliments—careful not to make them too suggestive—so that this experience doesn’t taint your perception of receiving compliments in the future.

Towa

Since this scenario takes place in broad daylight, I assume Towa isn’t able to speak properly just yet. He may be a free spirit who doesn’t always follow societal conventions, but he immediately recognizes the situation unfolding before him.

Without hesitation, he strides toward the stranger, roughly grabbing his shoulder and letting out a deep, guttural growl (you know the kind of sounds Towa makes—there’s no easy way to describe them). The guy quickly yanks himself free and glares at Towa. “Are you out of your mind, attacking me like that?”

This is the moment when Towa’s gaze darkens completely, and as if on cue, the entire sky follows suit. Rain begins pouring down in sheets, and lightning strikes all around you. The stranger panics, breaking free and sprinting off to find shelter. You could swear the lightning bolts seem to follow him as he flees.

Thankfully, you’re standing under an awning, and as Towa approaches you, his intense expression shifts into one of deep, heart-wrenching concern. If you want the storm to subside along with his mood, you’d better reassure him that you’re okay.

Ren

One might assume that Ren wouldn’t notice an incident like this because he’s glued to his phone, but he actually pays much more attention to his surroundings than people think.

Annoyed, he puts his phone away and steps directly in the stranger’s path, visibly irritated. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You really think it’s okay to talk to women like that?”

The guy looks intimidated at first but quickly recovers his arrogance. “And who do you think you are, talking to me like that in the middle of the street?” Ren, unfazed, remains perfectly calm. He knows his height and build give him an advantage, and while he would never willingly get into a physical fight, he uses his presence to his benefit. He deliberately squares up to the guy, emphasizing the size difference.

Combined with the cold look in Ren’s eyes, his tactic works. The stranger hesitates, then turns back to you, muttering a quick, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” before slipping past Ren and vanishing as quickly as possible.

Ren smirks slightly, satisfied with the outcome, then walks over to you with a more serious expression and pulls you into his arms. “Just ignore guys like that. They’ve got nothing going for them except a big mouth.”

Romeo

No one. I repeat. Absolutely no one except Romeo himself has the right to throw any kind of compliments at his property his beloved. Especially not suggestive ones. Just because he always tells you to keep your head high and learn to stand up for yourself doesn’t mean he lacks a protective instinct.

Accordingly, one of Romeo's legendary outbursts of rage comes to light, which he directs straight at the stranger. "What the hell do you think you're doing, talking to my wife like that, you miserable piece of trash, huh?" Romeo wouldn't rule half of Sinostra if his demeanor wasn’t absolutely terrifying and intimidating. He will most likely have the same effect on the stranger. If yelling doesn’t work, Romeo doesn’t hesitate to draw his weapon. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s aimed it at someone.

Similar to Jin, he will make the stranger apologize in the most humiliating (and, for him, the most degrading) way possible. The only difference is that Romeo will keep shouting at him the whole time and threaten to ruin him and his entire family if he ever hears that he’s misbehaved in any way again. Even if it’s just carelessly throwing a cigarette on the street instead of using a proper trash bin.

As the stranger runs off, nearly sobbing and looking back now and then to make sure Romeo isn't following him, Romeo doesn't spare him another glance. Instead, he turns to you. "I certainly hope you’re not intimidated by such a pathetic maggot. Let’s go. He’s wasted enough of our valuable time."

Taiga

As Taiga approaches and observes the situation, an uncontrollable rage builds up inside him. He quickens his pace and makes a point of standing tall as he nears the scumbag.

Before the stranger can turn around and continue on his way, Taiga loops his arm around his neck while passing him, forcing him back in your direction with sheer strength. From an outsider’s perspective, the gesture might look friendly at first, but the stranger's face tells a different story as he realizes Taiga is just one move away from choking him into unconsciousness.

"Oh yeah, she’s a real cutie, isn’t she?" he says in a low voice as they both move toward you. Though Taiga's words are directed at the young man, and his tone carries an unmistakable threat, his gaze remains locked on you, a clear, sadistic grin on his lips. "Too bad for you that she’s my cutie."

He continues to push the stranger forward until they both stop in front of you. Panic is written all over the man's face as he seems to sense Taiga’s thirst for blood just as much as you do. Taiga releases his grip on his shoulders and instead grabs the nape of his neck, digging his nails into the man's flesh, making him stare at you with both terror and pain in his eyes. "Don’t be shy. What do you say when you’ve disrespected a woman?"

The young man stammers out apologies, becoming more remorseful the tighter Taiga's grip gets. He only stops when the stranger sounds sufficiently pathetic in his ears. "Do you accept his apology, kitty cat?" Your answer will determine whether the poor guy gets away with just a scare or spends the night in the hospital.

Ritsu

As we all know, Ritsu is the type to always carry both his voice recorder and his camera. As he observes the scene in front of him, he doesn’t hesitate to pull out his camera and snap a picture of the man passing by.

The guy looks at Ritsu in confusion, then walks toward him angrily, asking in an aggressive tone why he took a picture of him.

"I simply took a photo of my beautiful girlfriend," Ritsu replies to the accusation of photographing him without permission. "Unfortunately, there's also some guy in the frame who just made some inappropriate remarks toward her. What a shame." As always, Ritsu remains calm during the exchange.

When the man protests that "it’s not illegal to talk to women," Ritsu nods in agreement. "True. However, now I know your face. And if I ever hear that you’ve broken the law in any way—even if it’s just a parking violation—you can bet I’ll make sure you pay for it."

The guy stares at Ritsu in disbelief and suddenly looks very nervous as he abruptly turns and hurries away. Ritsu pays him no further attention and calmly walks up to you. Before greeting you as usual, he asks if you’re okay and thenoffers his arm as you both continue toward your destination.

Haku

Haku is a pretty laid-back and calm guy. Instead of resorting to physical violence, he prefers to use words. Nevertheless, he absolutely despises seeing his princess being harassed by sleazy men. And even Haku can get a little rough sometimes.

As he walks past, he places his hand on the stranger’s shoulder, turning him toward him. His grip is firm enough to stop the man from walking away. "Hey, don’t you think your behaviour was completely inappropriate? Do us all a favor and apologize to her."

Haku doesn’t have an imposing height or an extraordinary build, so the stranger probably isn’t too impressed by his words. He roughly pushes Haku’s hand away. "It’s none of your business how I talk to women. Do us a favor and scram." As the guy turns to walk away, Haku casually calls after him, "Oh, so I’m just imagining things when I say your grandmother is utterly ashamed of you?"

The stranger hesitates, turning back briefly, stammering, "How do you…?" before scurrying away even faster.

Haku then turns to you, making sure you're okay. Depending on your mood, he’ll do everything in his power to make sure you remember this day in a positive light. Casually, he drapes his arm around you as you walk together. If you ask whether he really saw the guy’s grandmother's spirit, he just smirks mischievously and says, "Who knows?"

Subaru

Subaru is a calm and peaceful guy. While he reacts immediately to imminent danger without hesitation, he has never been one to engage in open confrontations. So, in this situation, he would focus more on comforting you than dealing with the stranger.

Since Subaru avoids touching people, he wouldn’t physically stop the stranger from walking away. On top of that, he feels uncomfortable being recognized as an actor. Despite his growing fame, it seems to have made him more self-conscious rather than confident.

Nevertheless, Subaru is clearly angry and addresses the stranger with an uncharacteristically serious expression. "That kind of behavior is inappropriate and clearly made her uncomfortable. You should apologize."

"And what, you think you’re her knight in shining armor? Piss off." With these harsh words, the man walks away.

Subaru doesn’t waste any more time on him and instead turns to you with a concerned expression. Whatever it takes to cheer you up and distract you, Subaru will do it.

Zenji

Let’s assume that Zenji is alive in this scenario, as his current situation obviously prevents him from taking any real action. Although he is an optimist who believes in the good in people, he is not someone who lets others walk all over him.

At first, he approaches you with his usual cheerful demeanor, but his expression darkens quickly when he sees the scene unfolding before him. After hearing the stranger’s passing comment, Zenji strides straight toward him and deliberately stops in his path, forcing the man to halt and look at him.

"It is unbecoming to behave this way in front of a lady. You should apologize to her." Zenji's tone is unusually serious, and the look in his eyes is something you rarely see in your friend. However, the stranger seems unimpressed and asks Zenji what his problem is for suddenly confronting him.

"Can’t you see that your words made her uncomfortable? You still have the chance to make it right." Unfortunately, this type of person is rarely moved by morality, and Zenji’s words have little effect. Laughing, the stranger turns away and walks off.

Zenji watches him for a moment, his initial anger fading into slight disappointment. Then he turns to you, pulling you into a reassuring embrace and checking if you’re alright. He apologizes for not being there sooner, so you wouldn’t have had to go through this situation in the first place. Some people just seem to have lost their way.

Rui

In the past, Rui would have immediately confronted the man, calling him out on his behavior without a second thought about the consequences. He would have been firm but never aggressive, relying on his natural charm to coax an apology out of the stranger. After all, he considers himself a pacifist. However, if things had escalated, I doubt he would have simply let it go—and he might have resorted to physical force if necessary.

But things are different now, and Rui is painfully aware of it. Under no circumstances would he risk a physical altercation where he might, at worst, end up killing his opponent. That’s why he swallows his pride and sense of justice, standing by silently as the man walks past him without a word.

Visibly worried, Rui approaches you and immediately asks if you’re okay. The worse you feel after the encounter, the more it reflects in his own expression. He will apologize over and over for not being able to do anything, and no matter how many times you reassure him that it’s alright, he won’t stop doubting himself and his worth in your relationship.

You should keep in mind that this man would do absolutely anything for you if he could. Even though you are the victim in this situation, and depending on your personality, you might be struggling mentally as well, don’t forget to check on your partner. He is suffering right along with you.

Ed

How in the world did you manage to get Ed out of the house during the day? Or to get him moving at all? This must be true love. As he watches the scene unfold, a faint grin spreads across his face, and he eyes the stranger carefully while walking toward him.

"Well, well, a textbook chauvinist. I thought speaking to a lady like that was outdated. Don’t you think an apology is in order?" The stranger stares at Ed, perplexed by his old-fashioned way of speaking. "What do you want from me? You talk like my grandfather. Get lost." With that, the man turns away and walks off.

"Take care! Even in a beautiful country like this, it’s not as safe as you might think." Ed calls after him. The stranger briefly glances back, asks if Ed has a screw loose, and then continues on his way. All the while, Ed hasn’t stopped grinning. The way he watches the young man leave is eerily similar to a predator studying its prey before striking.

"Shall we?" Ed asks, holding out his parasol invitingly so you can stand under it with him. "Don’t worry. People like him always get what they deserve sooner or later. I believe you call it karma here." You already have a sinking feeling that what awaits the stranger has nothing to do with karma. Whether you choose to bring it up with Ed is entirely up to you.

Lyca

Lyca is still adjusting to life among humans and the social norms that come with it. However, he has had a strong sense of justice for a long time, so the moment he sees someone speaking inappropriately to you, he immediately steps in.

He tries to rein in his anger, as he has learned the hard way that people often fear him when he gives in to his wilder instincts. No matter how despicable the stranger is, he is still human, and Lyca has likely accumulated some emotional scars from past rejections. The last thing he wants is to add another one to the list.

"Hey, that’s not okay," Lyca says as he approaches, stepping directly into the stranger’s path. "Apologize to her." "And you shouldn’t just talk to strangers out of nowhere, so I guess we’re even," the man replies dismissively, turning away to continue on his way.

Lyca watches him go, and for a brief moment, you see him start to lift an arm as if to stop the stranger. But halfway through the motion, he freezes and lets his arms fall back down in frustration.

He clenches his fists for a second before relaxing them again and walking over to you. He asks if you’re alright, making sure to call the guy an absolute jerk for speaking to you like that. Even though Lyca sounds normal, you know him well enough to see that he’s deeply frustrated about not having done more. A few comforting words might help him.

Yuri

Coming from an well cultured background, Yuri would never allow a woman’s dignity—especially his own woman’s—to be insulted like that. His rage is evident as he turns to the stranger, his voice booming. "How dare you address a lady in such a disgraceful manner, you worm?!"

The stranger seems startled by Yuri’s sudden outburst but ultimately remains unimpressed. "No need to yell, man. I was just giving the lady a compliment."

"You call that a compliment, you simpleton?! Apologize at once!" Though Yuri usually prides himself on handling matters with a level head, it’s clear that he’s struggling to keep his composure. The stranger snorts derisively and walks past him. "What a lunatic…" you hear him mumble as he leaves.

Yuri glares after him for a moment before turning to you. With quick steps, he reaches you, protectively wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. "Pay no mind to that coward. Some men simply have no idea how to treat a beautiful woman properly."

Jiro

Jiro is unfamiliar with common social conventions, so there’s a good chance he won’t immediately recognize the situation for what it is.

Since there is no immediate physical threat from the stranger—who simply walks past after making his inappropriate remark—Jiro might just stare after him in mild confusion before turning to you and asking if you know the guy.

What happens next depends entirely on your reaction. If you’re visibly shaken or uncomfortable, Jiro will immediately pick up on it. He’ll ask you if the man did something bad to you, and if you say yes, he’ll offer to "take care of him"—which, knowing Jiro, would be done in the most terrifying way possible.

If you act as if it’s no big deal or say it doesn’t bother you, Jiro won’t push further and will simply continue with your plans for the day. However, if you explain to him what catcalling is and why it’s inappropriate—or if you struggle to hide your discomfort—he will definitely remember this situation. The next time something similar happens (though hopefully, it never will), he won’t hesitate to react much more… forcefully.

[noharaaa]

Pillow Talk, Litteraly!

(𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙨 𝙭 !fem! 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧)

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:

When your annoying ex boyfriend sneaks into your bunk during curfew, after a whole day of avoiding him, things are bound to get messy. What could possibly go wrong? (Hint: everything)

Part 1 >>>> Part 2

Author’s Note: 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘶𝘱! 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘴’ 𝘌𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 “bold purple letters”

Enjoy Reading!

@loveesiren╰᭡⿴༘͜─𖧷̷۪۪᪇ ༘᪇𖧷̷۪۪⃟ꦽ⃟:: ᰰ۪۪꧇⿴༘⃕▦᰷᰷ᰰ

The facility was too damn cold!

You curled onto your side, yanking the thin blanket up to your nose.

It barely helped.

The bunks here weren’t so comfortable. thin mattress, stiff pillow, the tiny scent of bleach.

But after the hell of your first day in this place, you should’ve been exhausted enough to pass out immediately.

But you weren't tired.

Your mind kept running into thoughts you didn’t want to think about.

As if summoned by your thoughts, your bed dipped.

You didn’t turn. You didn’t have to.

A low obnoxious whisper tickled your ear.

“Wassup, my baby princess?”

Oh, for God’s sake!

You clenched your jaw, eyes squeezing shut.

Maybe if you ignored him, he might disappear.

But the weight only shifted closer beside you.

The audacity!

You felt his body heat press into your back as he shamelessly slid under your blanket. The faint scent of cologne and something kind of… fruity filled your nose.

His vape?

Your stomach twisted. Half from irritation, half from something way more annoying.

You turned your head just enough to hiss, “Get off my bed, Su-bong.”

He did the exact opposite and made himself comfortable instead.

“Wahh, so cold~” he whined dramatically, pulling at the edge of your blanket. “Let me in!”

He was whispering way too loud!

“I’d rather freeze to death.”

Su-bong grinned. Even in the dim lighting, you could see his ridiculous purple hair and that smug look you wanted to slap off his face. “Then we die together, Romeo and Juliet style.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, except I’d be the one poisoning your drink.”

“Oooh, kinky.”

You groaned, burying your face in the pillow. “Go away. I swear, if the guards see you—”

“Pfft. Who cares? They respect me.”

“No one respects you.”

“You’re just mad ‘cause you still want me.”

Oh. This bastard.

“In your dreams, asshole.” You smacked his arm. He cackled, stifling the sound into the pillow.

The worst part? You caught yourself grinning.

You were still not over this man.

A beat of silence.

Then his voice dropped, quieter now. “You okay?”

You blinked.

Su-bong didn’t do serious. Not often. But there was something about the way he said it. Like he actually wanted to know.

You looked at the bunk above you.

“It’s cold,” you muttered.

There was another silent pause.

Until he replied with, “Damn. That’s crazy.”

You elbowed him. Hard.

He almost flinched, biting his lip to keep from laughing out loud.

Then he shifted closer, wrapping an arm around you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You went stiff.

“W-what are you–?”

“Shhh.” He nuzzled into your hair, his body warm against yours. “Baby cold. I am heater. Shhh.”

Your face went hot…

But you didn’t move or shove him off.

Not because you wanted him there. Obviously.

It was because of the guards.

They were unpredictable as hell and the last thing you needed was some pink robotic-looking psycho deciding that an argument at curfew was a punishable offense.

That was the only reason you let Su-bong stay.

Still, that didn’t change the fact that there was no space on this tiny ass bed!

And of course, you're annoying, oversized ex boyfriend was hogging most of it.

Your leg was literally slipping off the edge. “Can you move?”

“Ah, baby. I wish… but my body? Too powerful.”

“Uhm…What?”

He patted his chest dramatically. “Too much muscle. No room.”

“Of course there's no room. ‘Cause you’re a big back.”

“I’m a… what?”

“Dude! You’re the one crushing me!”

“Tsk.” He clicked his tongue, wiggling into the mattress even more. “You should be grateful. You have the great honor of sharing a bed with…. South Korea’s sexiest man alive~”

“Oh my God. Please shut up.”

He didn’t shut up. He just laughed and… oh no. No.

His breath tickled your ear.

You flinched, heat prickling down your spine.

Su-bong noticed.

And because he was the worst person alive, he did it again.

This time, you jerked away slightly “Stop rubbing on me!”

“Baby… that sounds so dirty.”

You kicked him.

“OW! Yah!” He whisper-shouted. “That hurt! You abuser! You need– how you say…” His voice switched back to English, “anger issue~”

Your fists were now balled up. “Su-bong, I swear—”

“Shh, shh.” He patted your head gently. “S’okay. Thanos still luv you.”

“I’m going to kill you in your sleep.”

“Kinky~”

You were this close to elbowing him again, but then…

He nuzzled into the back of her head, his nose grazing your neck.

You froze.

You felt the warmth of his breath again. The way his stupid, soft hair brushed against your skin. The lazy way he—

Nope. Nope.

You turned your body around, face-to-face with him now.

He blinked at you.

You glared at him.

It was quiet again.

Then… his mouth curled into that annoying, stupid smirk.

You immediately regretted turning.

You’re eyes narrowed even more.

He didn’t stop staring.

It was annoying. And weird. And making you way too aware of how close you both were.

“…What?”

The words barely left your lips before his smug grin got bigger.

“Ahhh,” he breathed, dramatic as ever. “I knew it.”

“Knew what?”

“You like looking at me.”

You stared. Then snorted. “You look like a failed SoundCloud rapper.”

He gasped with a fake pain written all over his face. “How can you say this after all our beautiful memories?”

You rolled her eyes. “Memories?. Like on the day you cheated on me, right?”

His smirk faded.

You saw it.

The way his eyes darted away for half a second before snapping back to you.

“Still bringing up old news?”

The way he said those words were unsurprisingly apathetic and mocking. It wasn’t hard to notice how he was trying not to grin.

Your jaw tightened. “Oh, my bad. I forgot it doesn’t count when it was ‘just a kiss,’ right?”

His face hardened.

You kept going. Why stop now?

“Tell me, Su-bong. was it still ‘just a kiss’ when you let her sit on your lap?”

Silence.

Then he clicked his tongue.

“So dramatic,” he muttered, flopping onto his back. His arm folded behind his head, like this wasn’t a big deal. “You always overthink things.”

Ah, yes. There it was.

That calculated indifference. The bull crap he used to pull when he knew he was in the wrong but too stubborn to admit it.

Your brows furrowed. “You’re unbelievable.”

“No, you are.” His voice sharpened. “Always nagging. Always twisting things into some big betrayal. Seriously, bro! do you ever get tired of being like this?”

‘Bro?’ Who does this man think he is?

Your nails dug into your palms. “Being like what?”

“A pain in the ass.”

A rush of heat shot through your chest.

He did NOT just gaslight you!

Your body tensed. The anger in you bubbled so fast you nearly saw red.

Before you could snap, a groggy voice groaned from a few bunks away.

“Can you two shut the hell up?”

Shit.

You exhaled sharply, forcing your muscles to relax.

This wasn’t the time. The last thing you needed was to cause a scene.

“Go back to your bunk.”

Su-bong chuckled under his breath. “Wow, Look at you. Finally learning to control that temper.”

You almost went stiff again. He was obviously trying to start shit on purpose.

“Wouldn’t want the guards dragging you away, would you?”

“Screw you, Su-bong.”

“Haha. You wish, baby.”

Your eye twitched.

He still didn’t leave.

He just kept staring until your patience snapped

.

So you did what any mature, rational person would do. You whispered the meanest insult you could think of.

“Choding.” (Elementary school brat.)

Su-bong snorted. “Ohhh, scary~”

“Dumbass.”

“Stupid.”

“Egomaniac.”

“Goblin.”

“Failed rapper.”

Oops!

His grin faded almost instantly. “Yah. Watch your mouth.”

“Cry about it.”

“You first, loser.”

“Truth hurts.”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay… crypto hater.”

“That’s not even an insult.”

“Yes, it is. ‘Cause you didn’t believe in me.”

“I didn’t believe in your dumb crypto.”

He grinned again. “Same thing.”

That grin was too contagious.

You bit the inside of your cheek.

No, you were NOT about to laugh.

You heard a stiff breath leave his nose like he was trying to hold something in.

Then a quiet snicker slipped out.

That was it.

You almost lost it before you buried your face into your pillow, laughter bubbling out uncontrollably.

It only lasted a few seconds before you caught herself.

Dammit!

You cleared your throat, forcing your lips back to normal.

You were supposed to be upset!

“Yah,” he whispered between chuckles, “you’re so childish, you know that?.”

“Whatever.”

He nudged your side, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “It’s cute. The way you’re playing hard to get.”

“Am not!”

“Mmm.”

You knew he didn’t believe you.

He inched closer. Too close.

His voice was lower now, the teasing edge still there, but softer.

“You sure about that?”

You didn’t move. “Positive.”

Su-bong let out a quiet, amused breath.

“Liar.”

And with that, he closed the gap.

Just a brush of lips. Soft. Quick.

You blinked.

He did it again. You didn’t pull away.

And he knew he’d win.

╰᭡⿴༘͜─𖧷̷۪۪᪇ ༘᪇𖧷̷۪۪⃟ꦽ⃟:: ᰰ۪۪꧇⿴༘⃕▦᰷᰷ᰰ

𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵!

Part 1 >>>> Part 2 (coming soon)

[darnell-la]

Can you do dark!Logan being kinky and baby trapping you?

summary: Logan knew everything in the past, wouldn’t matter once he did his job, so he decided to go on a side mission to fulfill a dream he’s been dreaming about for years.

btw, this story was a bit rushed just like the rest that we will be posting soon. college has been kicking our main authors ass…

DO NOT READ IF CNC/SA TRIGGERS YOU!

———

Logan had woken up on a huge hotel bed, with a hand over him. The man was confused, not understanding what was going on until he remembered he was sent back in time.

Logan quickly got dressed, not wanting to wake up the women that were in his bed. His only thought was on y/n. He even remembered offering his room to these two women because he couldn’t have y/n.

Y/n was and still is dating Scott Summers. Logan couldn’t stand it. Scott had confronted Logan once, telling him and everyone how jealous Logan was of him because he had everything the lonely animalistic man wanted.

Logan couldn’t help but laugh when Scott thought he read him like a book. Logan could have any girl Scott wanted. He proved that by reeling in Jean.

Logan wanted y/n before anyone knew who she was. He was the first to see her, the first to talk to her, the first to make her laugh, and the first to make her upset. Logan hated the fact that they didn’t talk as much because of Scott.

“We can’t talk if you’re gonna keep flirting with me, Logan. I’m not Jean, and I’ll never be her,” y/n said years ago at a party after Logan pulled her into a bathroom.

“I know you’re not Jean. You’re better, and he knows that. He knew I wanted you, so he got you first,” Logan tried explaining to y/n, but she ended up leaving after apologizing. It wasn’t her problem or fault that Logan couldn’t commit.

Logan is currently outside of y/n’s house, debating on whether he should go through with this or not. He bought a basket, hoping he could sweet talk his way into her house, maybe even get her to take him and leave Scott.

“Hello?” Y/n asked in her sweet and soft voice as she opened the front door. “Logan- Hey, what are you doing here?” Y/n asked as she opened her door further, seeing a friendly face.

“Hey, just wanted to stop by. It’s been a few months, right?” Logan wanted to confirm to make sure his dates were right. “Yep — I do miss the team, though. Maybe I’ll visit next week,” y/n smiled.

“Could I maybe come in, and put this down?” Logan asked as he lifted the basket that he had put together for a good hour. “Yeah, of course,”

Y/n and Logan talked for a while, catching up on each other, but she couldn’t help but notice how flirty he was. She had told him not too long ago, that he needed to quit with it.

“Logan, it’s nice to meet you and all, but you can’t just come in here- In my house that Scott pays for, and flirt with me — I-I thought you came by to say congratulations on Scott’s sad mistake,” y/n giggled at the end of her sentence.

“Congratulations? To what?” Logan asked. “Didn’t Scott tell you as well as the others that I was pregnant? Well, at least I thought I was. Sadly, I was only two weeks late,”

Logan felt an instant pressure in his head. He’s never known anything about any close pregnancy. If his calculations are right, this would only be the first six months of Scott and y/n dating.

“Are you okay? Logan, hey,” y/n snapped her fingers in Logan’s face to get him back into reality. “You were almost pregnant? How? Why? When- I-“ Logan couldn’t keep himself from thinking.

It’s almost like Scott took no time to try and claim her — To try and claim what was his.

“Relax, I’m not actually pregnant. We’ve had our small talk, and we think it’s better to wait until it’s our one-year anniversary,” y/n smiled as she sat down on the living room couch.

“You haven’t even been with the man for a year, and you already had a pregnancy scare? Are you serious, y/n?” Logan asked in a tone y/n was surprised by. Why was he so upset?

“I mean, we’re around the age people start making a family, so-“ y/n went to continue, ur Logan cut her off with a loud sigh as he rubbed his hands all over his face. He’s never been this stressed in his life.

“You let him breed you? Are you- Fuckin’ hell, Bub,” Logan cussed as y/m scrunched her eyes. “Logan, what is your problem? Scott has been my boyfriend for months. Why do you care if he breeds me?” Y/n could barely repeat the word Logan had used.

The tall man snapped his neck to look at her. He was upset about how she could see how wrong this was. Opening her legs, and letting Scott go in raw within six months?

“You wouldn’t even kiss me when I tried. You wouldn’t touch me. You wouldn’t let me please you — I was willing to keep it slow and only go down on you, but you rejected me? For what? For Scott!?”

“Logan, it’s fine to leave,” y/n got up to show Logan out of her home, but instead of letting her, he pushed her back down on the couch. “No! No more running. I’m fuckin’ tired of this. Are you even happy? Do you seriously see more in him than me!?”

“Logan, please just leave. Scott will be back in half an hour, and-“ y/n tried getting up again, but this time, Logan pushed her down on her back and hovered over her.

“Then he can come home to a pretty sight if you bread right,” Logan growled before he began tugging at y/n’s leggings that he just knew Scott bought for her. All Scott did was buy things Logan would love seeing y/n in.

“Logan- Stop! Get off of me!” Y/n tried fighting, almost forgetting that Logan was a mutant and she wasn’t. He was automatically stronger than him. He didn’t even struggle.

“Gonna take it easy on you for right now, Bub, but when I get back to my future past, I’m gonna give you think kids you want,”

Y/n didn’t know what to say. He was all over the place. She’s never seen anything like this in Logan. She wanted to talk to him and ask him what was going on, but that left her mind when he got her leggings just under her ankles.

“Logan- Stop this! Get off of me, you can’t- You can’t fucking do this!” Y/n cried out, upset that Logan never got the idea. It’s not like y/n never saw anything in him.

Y/n just hated how he wanted women to chase him, and when he never got them to, he pushed until he got what he wanted. Today, he had to do more the seduce a woman with his looks and words.

“I can do whatever I want. Who’s gonna fuckin’ stop me, huh? You? Oh, you can’t lie, Bub. I smell how sweet you are from up here,” Logan chuckled as he pulled himself out of his jeans.

“You know, when I get back, the date will be set back before Scott met you, meaning, I get to have another chance. I could’ve waited to taste you, but as soon as you mentioned Scott impregnated you — God, that pissed me off,”

Logan held his cock as he pushed pushed into her. He knew his length would be the biggest she’d ever taken, and that only made him want to stretch her out more.

“L-Lo!” Y/n screamed as her back automatically arched. “Yeah, that’s it? Haven’t had a good cock since you’ve been with Scott, huh?” Logan asked as he continued pushing his cock through her lips.

“Logan!” Y/n cried loudly as he slammed himself all the way into her. “Take it, baby — I know you can,” Logan took his hands and pushed her waist into the couch, pinning her down so she couldn’t get away.

“Just look at you — You’re soaked and gripping me so tight,” Logan pounded away as y/n’s eyes rolled to the back of her head. She tried telling herself she couldn’t do this, but the way her body reacted made things so difficult.

“I bet you’ll love it when I fill you up, babe — No matter how much you say no, I know you’ll love it. You’ll love me,”

[1moreff-creator]

Fool's Table MV - Analysis

I absolutely adore this MV so it's getting an immediate analysis post. I cannot fucking believe what was in it. After playing coy with Mai for so long, we get an entire MV about her and Teruko?!?! The Terumai stocks are through the roof and my adoration is immeasurable. Let's go!!!

I hope I'm able to pick up on at least most of the most important details, I am doing this a bit off the cuff lol. As always, an important disclaimer is that the following is just my interpretation, I could be wrong about some things, and others may have multiple valid interpretations, I’m not claiming that my way of seeing the MV is the only “right” one, yadda yadda, you know this by now.

First, the description:

Together, alone, until the curtains close, I want to dance on the stage with you.

Pretty straightforward. The entire MV is framed on a stage, there's curtains, Mai and Teruko even dance. Just reinforcing the togetherness of Mai and Teruko (and don’t worry, we’ll get to that).

But, wait. Not everyone knows who Mai is, or what we already knew of her relationship with Teruko. That’s understandable, she’s had literally 9 seconds of screen time in the main series, and while it’s widely speculated she’s Unnamed Classmate, that’s not immediately obvious.

If you don’t know anything about her, I'll recommend you read up on the relevant sections of my secrets masterpost, since all you really need is her profile, Mai quotes and maybe her LGI numeral to understand this post. Or, if you're down for a longer read, my only somewhat outdated Mai post.

Next, we have to ask, what is Fool's Table actually about? I find it helps to talk about the song's overall meaning before diving into any specific lines, so we can better understand them in context.

Fool's Table is a song primarily about societal rules and expectations, and what it means to live within them. You'll see plenty of references to manners, people wearing masks, etc. The song also dwells on the concept that suffering is an inherent part of being human, and how to deal with this fact. The titular Fool's Table refers to life itself; it's framed both as a table, where society would claim manners and cleanliness are important, and described as a stage in various occasions, somewhere to dance and dirty and act on. You'll see what I mean when we get to line by line analysis, which this should be enough to get us started on, I think!

We open on a shot of a table, filled with plenty of different foods. Given this is the "table of life", you can easily interpret this as a representation of the large amount of experiences which life can offer. Before Teruko and Mai appear, the following lyrics play:

I'll deliver the final blow Already, that kid has a pitiful look on their face Everything everywhere is in flames Savages acting "sensitive"

"Everything everywhere is in flames" is pretty straightforward, I think. A very Teruko-like sentiment. This sentiment is possibly why the table that represents life is shown upside down; being "upside down" is a way of showing that everything's wrong with it, and by extension the world. The "final blow" mentioned, in my opinion, is showing this "truth" to the "kid with a pitiful face." Basically, this kid, possibly a stand-in for all children, was already sad, and now you're telling them everything is in shambles because of "savages" who pretend to be more compassionate, "sensitive", than they truly are.

On its surface, this seems like exactly the kind of fatalism that Teruko has held throughout most of her life. However, the next lines actually recontextualize these statements in quite an important way.

Let's let the flowers bloom until the end From the cradle to the grave, there's not enough love! Impatient guests, in a hurry Everyone is wearing the same face

This reveals that the singer actually wants things to get better, "flowers to bloom until the end." Although discontent with the current state of the world, with all these people who have lost their identity ("wearing the same face") due to "being in a hurry" (which you can interpret in a few different ways but it's not all that important for us), they seem to believe there are ways to improve it. And this idea that the singer wishes to go against society and make a better world for themselves is immediately tied to Teruko in the next line.

"You have no manners"

(The color's not actually in the MV just to be clear lol)

So first, sick animation. DRDTDev is awesome.

Anyways, there's the connection. For all that Teruko in current canon doesn't particularly believe her life can get better, she's certainly someone who goes against what is expected of her, here represented by dropping her cutlery and eating with her mouth. That's because Teruko doesn't think acting the way others act is going to help her, so she does her own thing. For example, pushing everyone away after the first trial, when others would want her to be more approachable. And with this idea, we reach Teruko's side of the table.

Now, gather around the pure white table

"The pure white table" is an ironic statement. Remember, the table represents life, so pretending it's "pure white" would imply it's simple and orderly, which the singer obviously doesn't believe. To amplify the irony, the statement is contrasted by the image of Teruko spilling blood all over the "pure white table." The statement is pretty clear: Teruko is a challenge to the orderly nature of society. Not only because she's a disruptive person herself, but because her life of misfortune is in itself a challenge to the idea that everything's perfect and okay, the mask that the other people mentioned before in the song wear.

Dance on spinning dishes, oh no

I actually quite like this line. The imagery of dishes is obviously connected to the table, which represents life, but spinning dishes in particular is a circus trick. Literally calling the world a circus, lmao. And asking you to dance on the dishes once again invites images of disorder and going against expectations.

We've forgotten the right way to breathe

AND THE CROWD GOES WILD!!!!!

Indeed, our favorite mystery girl (and birthday girl!), Mai Akasaki, makes an appearance. Unlike Teruko, Mai's eating with her cutlery, the way society would want her to. And this isn't exactly the first time we've seen Mai be contrasted with Teruko in this kind of vibe, remember?

In the LGI MV, Teruko is described as "someone dearly unloved", while Mai is "someone dearly loved." If you know anything about Mai, you know the idea that she's perfect by all standards, including societal ones, isn't exactly new.

However, it's worth noting that this is only a first impression. We'll see Mai dancing on the table later, and based on that and the whole "document" situation with Xander and Unnamed Classmate in Visiting Graves, we know Mai's perfectly fine with going against the grain and doing what she believes is right, despite what society may think. That said, unlike Teruko, her existence isn't actually a threat to the status quo, as she's:

[Mai Quote - Min]: An average girl with nothing special at all about her.

It's worth noting, though, she seems to be eating flowers instead of food. This can be an early indication of her more rebellious leanings (you eat food, not flowers), but I think it could be meant to serve as further contrast with Teruko. Remember how the foods could represent life experiences? Well, "eating flowers" in that sense could mean that Mai actually had a pretty pleasant life, which is entirely possible as, again, ordinary girl. We know from Charles' Mai quote that she loves her family, from Whit's that she has many friends, and from Visiting Graves that she doesn't have money issues. She could certainly have other issues, mind you, but right now we don't have much indication of it.

Oh also the lyric. "We've forgotten the right way to breathe" is just another way the singer has of expressing dissatisfaction with how others act. It seems like it's explicitly ambiguous whether Mai is one of the people who've forgotten the right way to breathe, or one of the people who hold the singer's opinion, playing into the dichotomy of how Mai is first presented here (eating properly) and how she dances on the table later. By the way, the word "we" actually appears and disappears before Mai shows up on screen, while the camera is still in the middle, so take that as you will.

It's all over once we drown What a luxurious dining table!

To quickly cover the lyrics, "drowning" I imagine is an allegory for death. Remember how the singer was upset others "lived in a hurry"? Yeah that. And the "luxurious" dining table thing is once again sarcastic.

You might have been wondering if I was ever going to talk about the things on the table, and don't worry, I am about to, I was just waiting for this wide shot. In general, I think most of what's on it is decorative, as I struggle to find any metaphors hidden in most of the food. The 12 colored biscuits next to Mai may be representative of the 12 members of the cast who are still alive in the killing game, maybe, but I don't think some of the colors match all that well (where does yellow go? why do we have so little blue?). Could also be the altDRDT cast + mascot, as pointed out by accirax. I don't think it's too important to know what this is, so I'll leave it open-ended.

The candles are a point of interest to me, though. The one on Mai's side is taller, but further from her, while the one on Teruko's side is smaller, but closer to her. There are like a billion ways you can interpret that, but I'm gonna choose to think of them as the two girls' "warmth", if that makes sense. Teruko is keeping it closer to herself, not as willing to open up, and the candle's shorter, so she has less warmth to give. Conversely, Mai is more willing to give Teruko her "warmth", as she's a really nice person from what we know, and that warmth is very intense judging from the length of the candle. Works well enough for me.

Finally, the most important part of the table, the cake. Obviously the centerpiece, it has both flowers and a red liquid, which I assume we're meant to see as blood. Notably, the side facing Teruko has the blood on top and the flowers below, possibly representing the way Teruko, at least in CH2, shows off her harsher side to the world while hiding more delicate and complicated feelings. Meanwhile, Mai's side has the blood being covered by the flowers, as if implying that Mai's kindness and love hide a fiercer soul underneath. Given the whole "she was probably staging some kind of revolution against Hope's Peak with Xander based on Visiting Graves" thing, I'd say that's a pretty accurate description of her character. Not to say she's intentionally hiding an evil side or anything, just that her real feelings are more complicated than what her seemingly perfect exterior suggest.

I haven't talked about the flowers because they're drawn the same as the flowers on Mai's tattoo, the Bonus Episode text boxes, and the "flowers of an unknown species" of the LGI MV. If you know the common interpretations, you'll know the two popular options for what they are is white camellias or white mai flowers. White camellias represent purity and honor like other white flowers, though they also specifically represent adoration and respect and are popular funeral flowers in Japan; while Mai flowers represent "prosperity, happiness in the new year, as well as resilience against storms and challenges", and the yellow variation of the flowers is connected to a legend about a girl who died protecting her father and village from a snake monster. Oh yeah Mai's probably dead by the time the killing game starts. 'Cuz, you know.

See that arrow pointing to Mai's portrait when her numeral XI shows up alongside the word God?

Yeah it's not very subtle. Mai's God, Mai's dead. There are other interpretations for this, mind you, but there's also other reasons to believe she's dead, so.

Trash is trash, trash will act like trash Fools are fools, fools will act like fools That's the ironclad rule of society And there's no room to complain

You get the lyrics by now, right? I don't have to point out that this is once again talking about rigid societal rules and expectations? Good!

Everyone everywhere is a nuisance The noisy crowd from earlier

For now, let's dance in the palm of their hands

Yay more pretty animation! :D

Here, the singer once again insults society at large, but also says that "for now, let's dance in the palm of their hands." As in, they're not fully ready to complete go against society yet, and will engage with its expectations for a while longer.

However, we're actually left with a pretty important question: what the fuck is the apple? Apples are usually representative of the “forbidden fruit”, a temptation or desire which goes against what is accepted. So, perhaps Mai is doing as the lyric on screen says; by discarding the apple, she’s discarding that which is forbidden by society and “dancing in the palm of their hand.”

That’s certainly an understandable interpretation, but I don’t find it fully convincing, because it just… doesn’t fit Mai.

[Mai Quote - Xander]: She couldn’t stand to do nothing.

Not only because of the whole “rebelling against Hope’s Peak” thing, but because later in this very MV, she’s seen dancing on the table with Teruko, going against societal expectations.

Additionally, it doesn’t explain what giving the apple to the dog would represent. Dogs can’t go against human societal norms, as far as I know. So, that’s another point that would need to be explained in that interpretation.

But maybe the doggy can help us? Maybe we can get to another interpretation through it, because I feel like I’ve seen it somewhere before-

Oh for the love of- Can this stop being the most plot relevant execution of all time???????? I don't want to think about it anymore!!!!!! /silly

Yes, the presence of a black dog/wolf is an explicit callback to Min’s execution. This would draw a connection between the apple and Min. On the surface, there are a few other ways we can connect them, as apples have a lot of associations with a bunch of things. In pop culture, apples are a common gift students give their teachers, and Min is a Student who wished to be a teacher. Allow me to ignore that this could also connect to the About Page Text and altDRDT Teacher real quick, since this connection is very minor and very cherry picked and only works because of the dog that doesn’t have ties to those two things.

However, it does bring even more issues with the interpretation I previously mentioned. Because, to put it bluntly, Min is the exact opposite of going against societal norms. Her recap foil is the Rebel, she’s under the orders of XF-Ture Tech, you know the drill.

Is it possible, then, that the meaning of the apple is the opposite as well? That eating the apple represents accepting society’s rules? It may seem weird with the associations to forbidden-ness I mentioned earlier, but if you go back and look at the Lone Apple scenes again, this idea gets a bit stronger.

The apple is full when the singer talks about the ironclad rules of society, as if implying that the apple is the ironclad rule. Then, right before we hear the singer talk about dancing in the palm of the hand of the “noisy crowd”, the apple is seen eaten, as if eating it is directly connected to dancing in their palm and following the rules. This would be consistent with the apple’s connection to Min, as Min herself is representative of following societal expectations as discussed earlier.

But then, why would it be “forbidden”? Well, I propose that we’ve been thinking about it wrong. The apple isn’t forbidden from society’s perspective, but from Teruko’s perspective.

Theory: An “Unfortunate” Point of View

The idea is that the MV doesn’t show things from a neutral perspective, but rather, from Teruko’s perspective, specifically. I’ll discuss why I believe this in more detail in a bit, but for now, I’ll ask you to bear with me.

This is the final piece of the puzzle for my take on the apple. Since the world has been unkind to Teruko, playing along with the rules of the world would make you an enemy in her eyes. She has been opposed to them from the very start of this MV, after all. Thus, the act of accepting the “ironclad rules”, eating the apple and “dancing in the noisy crowd’s palm”, would be seen by Teruko as eating a forbidden fruit. Therefore, the MV presents it as such, since I believe it’s shown from her perspective.

However, Mai discards the apple, which in this case is consistent with her dancing on the table later. She’s forgoing society’s rules and “throwing them to the wolves.”

Am I cooking? Am I burning down the kitchen? I have no idea! But that’s what makes it fun! This whole thing is obviously very up to interpretation, and there’s not really such a thing as a right or wrong one, really. I’m very open to hearing other interpretations on this thing.

Btw while we’re here, the wolf thing could also be connected to Elliot’s death, since he likely got killed by dogs as well (long story). In that case, the apple could represent knowledge, as in, the “forbidden” knowledge of Elliot’s existence and death. But… that’s kinda really disconnected from the rest of the MV and I don’t know how to relate it to the other lines the apple is seen alongside. So, throwing it out there, but I don’t think there’s a connection there.

Finally, I don’t think Mai’s the mastermind. Yes, I know that her throwing something to a wolf could be an allegory to her executing Min. But as stated earlier, it’s likely she’s already dead, and it’s kinda hard to mastermind a killing game from beyond the grave. You could connect it, in a more roundabout way, to theories that Mai’s death caused the killing game, but I don’t think it can really go further than that.

Gather around the pure white table Dance on spinning dishes, oh no We've forgotten the right way to breathe Let’s continue until we drown

Same lyrics as before, except for the change of “let’s continue until we drown.” It fits with Teruko lying on the table, not really doing anything. See, I believe this moment represents one where Teruko has given up on actively fighting, and is just deciding to go along with the flawed society she lives in. If I compared her eating with her hands earlier with her attitude at the start of CH2, this could be compared to her attitude when MonoTV told her she’d get executed but before Levi jumped in. That is, resigned and just letting things happen. This bouncing between harsh and “socially condemned” methods of self-preservation and resignation to her fate is a common thing for Teruko, I find.

Go ahead, enjoy the sour and sweet as you please Forever uncertain, I’ve held onto this poison Let it make my cells dance With those sharp-edged words! Our pain, we couldn’t choose any of it Look, it’s spinning round and round On the dining table of “life”

Yeah remember that thing about Teruko resigning herself to her fate and bad luck? “Our pain, we couldn’t choose any of it” is pretty in line with that. Teruko’s just accepted that bad things will happen, the world’s terrible and her existence is suffering. Hence, “enjoy the sour and sweet as you please” while she’s lying on the table; she’s a meal ready to be consumed by those who hurt her at their whims.

And who do I mean by “those who hurt her”? Well, if you didn’t catch it, the type of knife and its placement is a clear echo of Xander stabbing Teruko. Now, judging by several of her statements through the series, Xander isn’t the only person who’s ever hurt her, but he does work as a stand-in. Someone Teruko trusted has stabbed her in the… I’d say back but it was really the stomach, and she thinks this is what will always happen if she opens herself to hoping things will be better. She wants to, to some extent (“forever uncertain”), but she knows it will still hurt her eventually (the poison “making her cells dance”).

Well, except.

Here Mai is, pointing a knife away from Teruko. Defending her, possibly. This is the same knife she held at the start, the one which seemed to suggest Mai was playing by the rules of society. Except, she’s now taken those things, and is now using it to point at whoever may want to “eat” Teruko. That could represent a couple of things, but the most straightforward idea for me is that several of the things that make Mai a standup member of society are also just good traits for a friendship, such as her kindness and compassion.

Now, the next section has a lot of repeated images, so I’m just going to describe what shows up with each lyric.

[Mai pointing knife from uninjured Teruko] Now, gather around the pure white table Dance on spinning dishes, oh no [Teruko stabbed, alone] We’ve forgotten the right way to breathe [Mai holding knife, Teruko hidden] It’s all over once we drown (What luxurious dining table!)

(Btw you can know if Teruko is injured or not by facial expression, if you were wondering how I could tell)

Chorus, we know the lyrics. However, I’d like to point out that the line “we’ve forgotten the right way to breathe” is shown with Teruko injured and no Mai, possibly implying that being alone is “the wrong way to breathe” as it gets Teruko injured. That’s my favorite interpretation for that, anyways. Also ominous showing Mai front and center when talking about drowning as an allegory for death, but frankly? This is the first “dead” allegation she’s caught this entire video, and seeing how she managed to catch, like, three in the two seconds her numeral shows up in LGI alone, I’m actually quite proud of her! She may not be beating the allegations, but at least she's not getting one per scene!

Now, play a pure black elegy Let’s dance on the palm of your hand, oh no How does it feel to be devoured by the prey you once mocked?

Let’s start by focusing on what’s happening with Teruko in in the background, because it’s quite sweet. Not only does she start smiling and crying in joy, her stomach is covered in Mai’s signature flowers. This is pretty clear; Mai’s kindness has “fixed” the injuries other people had caused Teruko, her flowers covering up the Xander related injury that serves as a stand-in for all the betrayals Teruko’s endured over the years.

Admittedly, such heartwarming visuals are a bit of a contrast to the line “play a pure black elegy”, which if you don’t know is a “poem of serious reflection, usually a lament for the dead”, and the whole “devoured by the prey you once mocked” thing. However, that’s presumably because Mai is still very much holding a knife up to someone, so we can get away with some darker stuff.

I choose to interpret these lines as these two effectively talking to the status quo of Teruko’s life, if that makes sense. With Mai’s help, Teruko’s finally regained the courage to fight against her fate and stand up again, looking to “devour” the vague enemy of her luck whom she was always the prey to. The elegy, then, is aimed at this vague enemy, who they seek to defeat and “kill.” Does that make sense?

And this is the final link I need to explain my aforementioned “this MV is from Teruko’s perspective” theory. Because, you see, I believe this entire MV shows a story, and there’s an arc about Mai and Teruko’s friendship which can be followed. I believe this MV represents the process of Teruko befriending Mai, from Teruko’s perspective.

Think about it. It starts with Teruko and Mai literally opposed to one another, and Mai effectively being shown as one of the people who “wears the same face” as the others, given she’s following proper table manners. She’s nothing special, just someone else who will betray Teruko eventually, hence Teruko’s almost angry expression on that table. Someone who will bite that “forbidden fruit” that is the ironclad rule of the world. Trash will be trash, fools will be fools, and Teruko will be unlucky and get betrayed.

But then, Mai rejects the apple. And when she grabs the knife again, she points it away from Teruko, even when Teruko was lying on the table and ready to get hurt again. This is also, by the way, the first time Mai opens her eyes in the MV; the first time Teruko and her see eye to eye (per se). Because Mai always trusted Teruko, always wanted to be her friend, and only now is that good faith being returned. Well, I assume she never had any bad intentions, anyways.

Look, from how Mai is usually presented, she may as well be perfect in my books. If I catch her burning an orphanage, I’d probably assume the orphans deserved it. This is hyperbole, of course, but only barely.

And so, Mai has officially broken through Teruko’s bad luck and allowed her to “devour” that horrid fate which had always been pushing her down, allowing them to finally dance together in the end, smiling all the while.

Now, obviously, this makes 15000 assumptions as to how Mai and Teruko actually met, what their relationship was like, etc. There are a million things I may have just gotten horribly wrong. But as always, we know too little about Mai to make any good theories without a lot of assumptions. And with the little we do know, this interpretation makes sense in my mind, so it’s the one I’m currently going with!

Go ahead, enjoy the sour and sweet as you please Forever certain, we’ve been waiting for love Let these cells dance With that completely decayed mind! Nothing will be taken from us Our pain and everything is spinning On the dining table of “life” What a luxurious fool’s table!

Look, by this point, you’ve heard what this scene is all about. Mai and Teruko finally both throw away the rules of society and dance upon the table together, not caring what they destroy or messy up in the process. They’re more certain now, because they’ve found the love they were looking for, and feel like nothing will go wrong because “nothing will be taken from us.” The pain’s still there, but they’ll face it together! What a wonderfully hopeful ending! Ignore that Mai's probably dead please.

And since this part’s pretty easy, it gives me time to appreciate the yuri!

You see, this may be something I’ve only ever brought up once, but Teru-Min-Mai is my favorite DRDT ship, and it has been for a while. And while I can’t find any excuse to talk about Min for longer than I already have (a tragedy, I know), I can spare some time to spread the Terumai side of the Agenda, at least! I’ve seen a few people start thinking about shipping it too because of this MV, so let me make a sales pitch. Ehem.

-Opposing themes: You’ve heard of the “dearly unloved” and “dearly loved” thing from the portraits, but did you know red and green are complimentary colors?

-Looking for each other: I mean, just look at what can show up on Mai’s page.

[Mai Quote - Teruko]: Some years ago, she was searching for someone named 'Teruko Tawaki.'

Come on. Why’re you so interested in looking for her if not to kiss her on the lips?

-Matching phone charms: We see that Teruko’s monopad has a phone charm in 2-1, which she shares with Unnamed Classmate. Btw, Mai’s profile states she likes phone charms :)

-Matching tattoos?: Mai’s iconic flower tattoo is on her left arm, and Teruko’s left arm has always been conspicuously hidden from us. But from the jacket off reference, it seems there is something important there. And from the only time we’ve ever had even a glimpse of it, it seems like she may be hiding the same tattoo as Mai.

-Dream sequences: Teruko literally dreams of Mai in her 1-6 dream sequence. And her dialogue there couldn’t hold more fondness if it tried.

It's strange I would remember her now, of all times. What was her name again? It's on the tip of my tongue, but I can't remember. Xander always reminded me of that girl. Perhaps that's why I'm thinking about her now. They looked similar, with that same red hair and smile. And... they both wanted to help, didn't they?

-Teruko’s favorite color is red “by association”: Considering Xander stabbed her, I think the association comes from someone else. Imagine loving someone so much they change your favorite color wow.

-Apocalyptic levels of doomed: We’re DRDT fans, we enjoy our yuri when it’s doomed. And the second anniversary art makes the doomed-ness pretty clear.

(I have to remake this collage there's like three pixels on it total lol)

The code translates to “It’s all your fault.” Combined with Mai likely being dead, you can put two and two together that Teruko might blame herself for Mai's demise, or at least she would if she had all her memories. This is doomed as can be.

-This entire MV: Like come on.

Anyways, ship Terumai. Or don’t, I really don’t care about shipping much and you can do what you want forever. This is just so newer fans aren’t hopelessly confused on why these two are together in this MV and seem to be about two seconds from proposing to each other; the basis for them being really good friends, if nothing else, has always been there.

Anyways, the video ends with a curtain closing, because we’ve been interpreting life as a stage to dance upon, so it’s a natural way to close things out. If you wanted a sadder reading, you could take the idea that Teruko ends up seeing her relationship with Mai as a play, an act that would always end eventually, because it was too good to last when taking her luck into account. The yuri is even more doomed than we expected, I fear.

-

And that should be it! What a wonderful MV this was! It’s nice to really get insight into what Teruko and Mai’s relationship looked like, sort of, and I know I’ll personally savor some of these frames forever. Loved it. Happy 5th anniversary everyone, and happy birthday Mai! Thanks for reading! See ya’!

[wooataes]

Real Eyes, Fake Lies (Part 11)

Pairing: soulmate!Lee Jihoon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Hanahaki!AU, angst, all hurt no comfort, swearing, tears, the usual 🙂‍↕️

Summary: What do you do when you find out the one person that was created by the universe to be yours doesn’t want you back?

A/N: It has been WAY too long since I've updated this story and I apologise for that 🙂‍↕️ I finally feel like I've gotten my life back on track to finally be able to post a long awaited update!! Thank you to everyone who still reads and enjoys my fics, it means a lot ! 🥹 - Tae 💜🌸✨

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“Do you know what’s wrong with him?”

“His girlfriend left him, genius. What do you think is wrong with him?”

Jihoon rolls his eyes. His housemates have as much subtlety as an earthquake. Their naturally loud voices seep through the closed door of his bedroom as he stares at his ceiling, a sigh leaving his lungs in the darkness as the outside voices drone on.

“Hyung,” Mingyu sighs. “It’s been over a week now… Should we call someone?”

“Who would we call?” Junhui retorts. “His soulmate? Because up until last week, I thought his soulmate was Ji-ah.”

The mention of her name creates another pit in Jihoon’s stomach. He hates it. He wishes he could just get over the stupid emotions that run through his veins at the mere thought of his not-soulmate, now also not-girlfriend.

“His parents are hours away and he has no siblings that we can contact.” Junhui continues, frustration laced in his voice. “I don’t know who we could call.”

“Doesn’t hyung have a cousin who-”

“I can hear everything you guys are saying. You know that, right?” 

Jihoon’s hard voice carries through the door, his housemates falling silent on the other end.

“Jihoon-ah.” A deep voice mutters, causing him to tense up. He knows that Wonwoo knows how to get through to him. “Can we talk?”

After a long pause, Jihoon’s bedroom door slightly creaks open. “Wonwoo, I told you yesterday,” he stares at the ground, refusing to make eye contact with the older man. “I am fine-”

“You are not, Jihoon-ah. And we both know it.” 

“How do you know?” He snips.

“You haven’t left your bedroom since Ji-ah left you last week.” Jihoon sucks his teeth at her name.

“I never left my bedroom before she left me.” He hisses back.

“Yes, you did.” Wonwoo retorts back. 

“When? To go on dates with her?” he barks. “To take her out? To go visit her family? Well, guess what? She is gone, Wonwoo, so I have a whole lot more free time and I choose to spend that time at home.” his voice cracks slightly, bottom lip shaking as he moves to close the door once more, his frown deepening as Mingyu grabs a hold of the door before it closes.

“Hyung, we’re sorry.” Mingyu’s voice is softer now as he looks at him with sad eyes. “We’re so fucking sorry that you’re going through this but we are here for you and want to be there for you.”

“I don’t need-”

“Please don’t push us away.” Wonwoo frowns, his hand resting over Jihoons. “Jihoon-ah…”

Jihoon shakes his head quietly, a small hiccup leaving his lips. “Wonwoo, I promise, I’m fine.” He gently lets his hand fall from Wonwoo’s as he moves to shut the door to his bedroom once more, wiping the stray tears that threaten to spill from his eyes.

“I truly don’t know what to do, guys.” Jihoon winces at the defeated tone of his older housemate’s voice as he climbs back into the comfort of his bed once more, hoping to forget about the world around him for a little bit longer.

Jihoon heaves a loud sigh as he steps into his first Film Studies class in nearly two weeks, slumping down in his chair, rubbing at his temples slightly as Professor Park begins his usual droning on. He really should be listening to the lecture at hand, but he can’t bring himself to. Not when he can feel the eyes of multiple people in the class lingering on him. He’s sure that word has gotten around now about his very public dumping and the fact that Ji-ah was obviously never his soulmate. He hates that he can feel the sympathy radiating off of his peers, and even off of you, his real soulmate, sitting directly beside him with your stupid perfect hair and stupidly neat notes that you wordlessly offered him to help catch him up on the classes he missed. He accepts them graciously, spending most of the lesson copying your notes into his notebook.

“Professor,” a deep voice from the back of the room calls out near the end of the lesson, drawing Jihoon from his thoughts. 

“Yes, Jaebeom?” 

Your soulmate glances at you at the sight of your body tensing up at the mention of the newcomer’s name. He tilts his head slightly as he feels nerves begin to bubble in the pit of his stomach from you, causing him to raise a brow. You take a slow breath before scribbling idly on your page again, indifference on your face, but Jihoon knows it’s a front. 

Why are you so tense?

“About the extension on our group project?” Jaebeom’s voice lulls out in a drawl, a clear cockiness hidden in his tone. 

“Ah yes,” Professor Park hums, nodding his head. “I know some of you have gone ahead and already submitted your essays and presentations to me, and I’m thankful for you guys for getting these to me on time and even earlier. For the remainder of you all who have yet to submit your projects, I’ve extended the deadline by two weeks, due to an unavoidable event I must attend.”

Jihoon hears his classmate’s sighs of relief, and in turn, he breathes out as well. He knew he had neglected his end of his project with you for the last week, and he feels grateful that he can make up for it.

“I do hope the rest of you,” Professor Park sends a look to the back of the room, “get this done in due time. Class dismissed.”

Jihoon wordlessly offers your notebook back to you, a frown forming on his face when he sees you duck your head, letting your hair fall over your face. He glances to see a taller man wearing low jeans and a beat up baseball cap on his head march- no, strut down the stairs to reach the door, sauntering out with what Jihoon can only describe as a sleazy grin on his face. Once he steps out of the room, you immediately collect your things, bow your head to Jihoon with a little smile, and jump up to leave the classroom.

“Professor,” your soulmate approaches the teacher. “I appreciate you extending the deadline-”

“Oh, Jihoon-ssi!” Professor Park smiled. “Are you feeling better? Miss Choi told me that you were unwell when she submitted your project to me last week.”

“Oh.. Yeah, I’m feeling alri- Wait. Submitted?” Jihoon blinked.

“Yes,” he smiled. “Both of your arguments had wonderful points to pit against each other. Well done! I will be posting your grades in a few weeks!”

You finished off the project for him? Why are you so… nice?

“Uh… Thank you, Professor.” Jihoon bows his head in thanks before slowly stepping out of the classroom, starting to walk in the direction of home, the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance.

Jihoon takes a deep sigh as he finds himself sitting down at the park bench that is so familiar to him now, letting the raindrops land on his clothes and face as he tilts his head back.

“Jihoon-ssi?” your voice is quiet over the sound of the loud rain, but Jihoon could hear you. He always does. He blinks as he feels the heavy raindrops that land on his hoodie abruptly stop, looking up to see a pastel umbrella being held over his now drenched body. “What are you doing out here?”

Jihoon shrugs quietly for a moment. “I… don’t know.” He glances down at the wet sleeves of his hoodie. “Just.. Thinking.”

“Well, I think you should think away from a torrential downpour next time,” you quip with a little smile, hoping the joke makes him crack a smile.

“Nah,” he hums. “It’s comforting, the rain..” 

“Comforting?” You echo, tilting your head innocently as he hums a confirmation.

“Mm. Rain doesn’t have colour.” He glances at you for a moment, slightly amused by the cluelessness on your face as you just blink at him. “Ah, it’s silly, really,” he continues. “The sky doesn’t have colour when it rains, it reminds me of what the world looked like before everything changed. Everything is so different now.”

“You’re right.” You agree quietly. “Everything is different.”

“Thank you,” Jihoon mumbles after a brief silence. “For helping finish off the project while I was… y’know.”

“Oh, that?” You shrug. “That was nothing. You had all the arguments, I just articulated them for you. Figured that you already had enough on your plate so I thought you wouldn’t mind if I submitted a little early to get it out of the way for the both of us.”

“How do you do it?”

“Huh? Do what?”

“... Live.” Jihoon’s voice is barely above a whisper as you settle down on the park bench beside Jihoon, still holding the umbrella over his head. “How do you just live life so damn happily while you feel like absolute shit all the time? And don’t deny that you don’t, I have felt every single emotion you have felt for weeks now.”

You pause for a moment, looking up at the sky before humming. “I suppose I just got used to it.” You shrug. “It kind of just became like a background noise for me. It’s just always there.” 

“Even when the pain is doubled now? Because of me?”

You shrug once more. “It’s not something I haven’t dealt with before. I can feel the pain for both of us, Jihoon-ssi. It’s okay.” You give him a little smile. “I have had a lot more practice at loss than you have.”

Jihoon feels the irritation bubbling up inside him slowly.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

You blink in confusion as you glance at him. “Huh?”

“I have experienced loss too, you know.”

“I know that, I just-”

“I am more than capable of feeling these emotions too.” He frowns.

“I know,” you emphasize, “I just wanted you to know you don’t have to face them on your own.”

Jihoon scoffs quietly. Who does she think she is, giving him advice on how to deal with his emotions? “I know that too. You don’t need to point out the obvious, Choi.”

“Do you know that?” You retort, raising an eyebrow. “Because from what Mingyu told me, you’ve barely left your room until this week.”

“Ugh,” Jihoon groans, leaning his head back. “Am I not allowed to have time to myself?”

“Of course you are,” you sigh. “But you’re also-”

“You know, you should think about facing your emotions on your own instead of relying on everyone else around you.” Jihoon hisses at you with a glare as you freeze with wide eyes. 

“H-huh?” He can feel your doubt seeping into his veins.

“Your brother, his soulmate, Soonyoung, Seokmin,” he rambles. “They’re always at your beck and call when they could be living their own lives with each other and not have to worry about you every five fucking minutes like you’re their child.”

“I…” You balk, Jihoon wincing at the feeling of your stomach twisting inside him. But he doesn't care, he wants you to hurt as much as he does. It’s your fault he doesn’t have Ji-ah anymore, afterall.

“Just go away!” He barks. “When will you realize that your help isn’t needed?! You’re not needed! I lost the one girl I truly fucking loved because of YOU! Why would I want you around?! Leave me alone already!”

After a long silence, Jihoon finally turns his head to look at you, staring at him for what seems like hours with the same look that you had on the day you brushed hands for the first time. That isn’t what frightens your soulmate, though. What frightens him is the fact that he can’t feel anything inside him anymore, besides his own pain.

“... sorry, I’ll leave you alone.” You mumble robotically, delicately placing the umbrella beside him before rising and walking through the heavy rain in the direction of your house, letting the rain run down your clothes.

“Fuck.” Jihoon sighs heavily and buries his face into his hands, squeezing his eyes shut as he hears your footsteps move further and further away.

He needs to apologize. He knows he does. He knows he said those words out of anger and hurt, and he knows you definitely didn’t deserve it. 

But why can’t he find it in himself to go to you and do it? You’re literally two tables away from him right now.

Jihoon, he scolds himself, it’s been days. You need to man up and tell her you’re sorry. 

Could he be worrying a little now because since he confronted you, he has felt no emotions whatsoever from you? Has he finally lost the tether from you?

“Hello you!!” A loud, cheery voice snaps him into reality. He blinks as he stares at his cup of ramen in his hand, fidgeting on the hard steel of the cafeteria chair underneath him, trying to figure out where the loud voice had come from.

Seungkwan makes his way over to where you’re sitting, draping himself over your back. Before he can ask how you are, you jolt up quickly, scooting away from him like you’ve been burned.

“Hey.” You give him a little smile, pressing yourself up against the wall. “Where’s Hansol? You should be with Hansol.”

Seungkwan’s face contorts slightly as he sticks his lips out in almost a pout. “He had to run to make his next class… Bug, what’s wrong-”

“I actually have to run too, Kwan.” You stammer out quickly, grabbing your backpack and stepping out from behind the table. “Talk later?”

“But, you haven’t even touched your lunch…” his voice fades out as he watches you rush quickly out of the cafeteria, surprise etched on his face.

Jihoon watches on, just as surprised as Seungkwan as he reaches the table with him, Soonyoung and Seokmin.

“Okay, what the hell was that? What happened to Bug?” Seungkwan immediately questions Soonyoung, who upon further inspection, looks just as out of it as you are.

“We don’t know,” Seokmin speaks for his soulmate. “Every time she’s at home, she stays locked up in her room and only leaves to cook dinner for us and clean up. She didn’t even come down for movie night the other night.”

Your soulmate’s eyes widened slightly as Soonyoung took a deep breath. “Something has happened and she won’t tell us what. She doesn’t even speak when she’s at home anymore.”

“We’ve tried to talk to her, get her to come out of her room, do anything, but she doesn’t budge. I’m getting worried.” Seokmin bites his lip.

“I don’t know what the hell has happened to our Bug. She is literally just doing fucking chores and whenver one of us tries to hang out..” your best friend rubs at his temples. “She keeps insisting we hang out with our soulmates. With each other. I don’t know why the fuck that doesn’t mean she can’t hang out with us too.”

Jihoon feels sick as your housemate’s words sink in to him.

When will you realize your help isn’t needed? You’re not needed!

Fuck.

“Jesus Christ, Jihoon-ah.” Wonwoo breathes out when Jihoon finally steps through the door. “You were supposed to be back four hours ago. What the hell were you- Jihoon-ah?” 

His eyes widened at the sight of his housemate stepping under the lights of the hallway, lip trembling and hair sticking in six different directions. Jihoon truly didn’t mean to take so long making it home. He supposes he lost track of time wandering campus with his racing mind.

He knew his words had gotten to you. At the moment it felt good, for you to feel the pain he did. But now? Seeing his friends, your family agonizing over how detached you are? 

What has he done?

“Jihoon…” Junhui looks on worriedly, reaching forward to slip the backpack off his housemate’s shoulders.

“I… I knew what I was getting into when I chose to date her, Wonwoo.” His voice quivers as he stares at the ground. “I knew that she already had a soulmate, but… I-I didn’t think…” 

“Of course you didn’t.” Wonwoo agrees.

“She told me that he had moved countries years ago… There was no chance he’d come back…” a small tear slides down his cheek as his housemate hums in acknowledgement. “And when I… when I found my soulmate and I-” Jihoon chokes back a sob. “And I rejected them to keep a hold of Ji-ah…” His soft cries echo into the quiet hallway. “I… I felt their heart break inside of me, I’ve felt their pain for weeks a-and now I feel their pain on top of my own and… fuck, I broke her, man.”

“Oh, Jihoon…” Junhui sighs sympathetically as Wonwoo pulls Jihoon towards him, bringing his head into his shoulder as his arms wrap around his back in a warm embrace. 

Jihoon pauses for a moment. He blinks once, twice, and a third time before he lets out a soft sob, his hands gripping onto Wonwoo’s shoulders desperately as he buries his face into the soft fabric of his shirt.

“Hyung,” he chokes out. “I r-really fucked up.”

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[comfxrtablykai]

The Art of Staying

a bucky barnes x fem!ex-hydra!reader

Warnings: kissing, drinking, bucky calling you doll (it's a warning), no use of Y/N.

Summery: James Buchanan Barnes and you had known each other for a few years now. They were both HYDRA's minions at some point in their life which they had bonded over, but he couldn't really decipher her. Not until now, when she gave him an answer on how to.

────୨ৎ────

Maybe it was the number drinks he had, maybe it was the fact that you were wearing a cropped camisole that barely covered your perfect chest and body.

Maybe it was the fact you were sitting in the outdoor part of the bar, looking at the sea, nursing a beer instead of partying with the other Avengers. To him you looked like a dream, like something out of a 90s movie. Your hair blew lightly from the sea breeze, framing your face in a halo.

Maybe it was the fact that Bucky had finally grown a pair but he made his way outside towards you.

He stood besides you leaning against the rails, not saying anything and looking at the girl who had become his favourite headache in the few years he'd known you. "Hey, doll."

"Hey, sergeant." You spoke in that drunken drawl, your voice wrapping around the title like a slow drag of honey.

Your hair was a bit messy in the best way possible. Your lips were glossy and when you looked at him with those eyes... oh, those beautiful eyes.

You looked at him with a half lidded gaze. When his eyes looked into yours, his breath hitched. They had a longing and sadness in them he couldn't understand. You looked at him like you knew him, like you could read him like an open book and yet, he didn't know you. You still had an air of mystery to you he couldn't figure out. Ever.

He spoke his next words before he could properly think them through, "who is the real you?" Her eyes hesitated for a second before turning back to the sea, your jaw clenched.

"I don't know." You said glumly, but despite your tone your body was relaxed as if you'd made peace with the fact you didn't truly know who you were. "I still haven't figured it yet after..." you gulped and took a sip of your beer to calm your nerves. "But who I am, it makes people not wanna stick around."

He clenched his jaw and looked down in anger towards the people who had dared to leave you. No one should be left alone, he knew the feeling all too well.

But when he looked back into your eyes, for the first time he found himself understanding the longing in them. Not fully, not yet completely but enough to know he'd stripped of a layer of that mystery.

You sighed and your lips curved up slightly in a mischievous manner, which after seeing made his anger simmer down. He scoffed and shook his head with a smile.

Such a complicated, stubborn thing.

You got up from your seat, assuming the conversation was over. Your hand on the railing to balance you. But Bucky tucked a strand of stray hair behind your ear, surprising you.

"Guess I'll to do something scary," he breathed out softly with a smile. His fingers brushed against your cheek. Your skin was so soft, he wanted to keep his hand there forever. His fingers hesitantly rest at the side of your neck, his thumb brushed against your skin and his palm cupped your cheek, "and stick around."

You looked up at him with vulnerability. You tried to walk away but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him, not letting you deflect him like you usually did.

He looked at you like you were an angel and you looked at him like he was your saviour.

You hadn't realised how close you both had gotten until your eyes moved down to his lips. His eyes did the same, it was only for a second when he had looked at those pretty lips of yours, but he was a goner.

He pressed his lips against yours tentatively.

Testing

Tasting

Feeling.

You tasted like your sweet beer which you had been drinking and something else which he was damn sure was ambrosia. But most importantly you tasted like everything he's ever wanted.

The kiss became more desperate, and before you both knew it, you had lost control. Your lips moved against his in an intense rhythm. Your hands travelled up his chest, feeling the ridges of his abs. He was a wall of muscle and he felt warm under your hands.

His hands trailed down your back to your thighs, his calloused hands squeezing the flesh before he gripped your hips and pulled you closer.

You let out a little whimper and softly nipped at his bottom lip, making him grunt, your tongue brushing against his.

You slowly pulled away, taking a deep breath as you looked into his blue eyes. "James..." you said breathily.

He looked at you with an adoring gaze and he had a content smile on his face. He bit his lip as he looked at you like held the whole galaxy in the palm of your hand. He pressed his lips against yours again one last time in a small peck.

He pressed his forehead against yours and whispered, "I'm gonna stick around doll." And you couldn't help but let out a little giggle.

[starzgaze]

📖₊✧ 🖋 “ TANGA TANGAHAN “—s.jw/filo!reader

shit ass snippet: "gago?? who did you try copying off again?" ".... the exchange student" "BUANG KA B—"

your friend let out an exasperated sigh as you gave her a sheepish smile, scratching your cheek awkwardly. cheating wasn't something you do usually but you were pretty desperate to pass the math exam but 'luckily' you sat beside the korean exchange student! you heard koreans are generally smarter in math so you thought you were passing the exam until you saw his paper and realized a few copied answers in that... he was also copying off you.

a/n: special thanks to park for helping me in this idk if I added the cleaned up version but I gave up reading this

oh my god. you didn't study for the exam today.

with you clutching the straps of your bag, you anxiously entered the classroom and saw many students cramming for today's exam. some of your friends were scribbling on the board practice equations while the other kids reviewed their papers over and over again and the remaining half just accepted faith and slept until the exam started.

you walked over to your desk and placed your bag beneath it, sighing in defeat as you probably accepted the fact you're gonna see a line of 7 in your card for the quarter. maybe playing games the whole night instead of studying the bazillion ways of solving for x was extremely stupid on your part.

but you were hopeful that perhaps your stock knowledge will save you. (for the sake of your grades and sanity to avoid a beating)

"[y.name]!!!"

a voice called over for you suddenly which prompted you to turn to the owner of the voice. it was one of your friends who looked extremely drained. your eyes widened at the sight.

"jesus christ. the hell happened with you? napaka haggard mo 'teh" you joked as you pointed out your friend's unbrushed hair and disheveled appearance. She pouted before she softly punched your shoulder with the rolled up paper she was holding.

"oh zip your mouth! anyway, did you study for the math exam?"

your friend went for the throat as she didn't bothered starting up small talk, time was ticking, every second that passed means the start of the exam will begin shortly soon.

the question made you pause a bit before you sloooowly moving your head over to your friend as an awkward smile forced it's way on to your face.

"haha... no"

her dropped as she blankly blinked at you for a good 2 minutes before shaking her head vigorously and shoving her face into her hands, groaning probably in despair.

"GOODDD.. who am i supposed to ask now how to solve these things?! or even cheat off..."

you shrugged as you looked over to your seatmate,

the exchange student.

you can't really tell but he seemed pretty confident about the exam with how 'relaxed' he is, maybe your friend can ask him instead of you.

your friend followed your gaze that lingered on the exchange student which made her look over her shoulder for a moment before smirking. completely misunderstanding the situation.

"hala, may crush ka?"

"ha? gago, anong crush? I'm just thinking that you should probably ask jinwoo over there instead of me about the math equations" you retorted back which was only received with your friend pouting as she playfully wiggled her brows, occasionally nudging you along with it. a sigh left your lips.

before your friend could further tease you about it, your proctor entered the room, signalling the whole room to pack their reviewers in their bags and bring it to the front of the classroom.

you sat on your chair, fiddling with your pen as your proctor started to explain the flow of the exam. you didn't pay attention to the instructor since you probably memorized whatever the hell he was about to say but your eyes wandered over to your seatmate once again, sung jinwoo.

he was one of the korean exchange students from your school's exchange program, his luck is horrible for how the exchange program timed perfectly with the quarterly exams so now he has to go through this too.

but anyway, the more you drown out your proctor's voice out of your mind you can't help but stare longer at jinwoo. it's not the fact that maybe he's a bit handsome and is basically eye candy to you but it was the fact you could see an extremely tiny wisp of black off him that is almost reminiscent to a shadow. that sounds crazy to you.

jinwoo immediately notices this though which ended with him returning the gaze, making you jolt in your seat as you swiftly looked away. acting like you didn't stared him down moments ago.

oh man if you could only see the small smirk on his face.

　　　　　✎ᝰ

oh my god². it's been 43 questions in the exam and you still haven't confidently answered anything, more than 40 questions that you answered swiftly was basically you playing eenie miney moe or pulling formulas out of your asshole as you prayed to your patron saint of your school and Jesus that the number you guesstimated was correct. you're at the point that you're counting the 'probably' correct answered questions to guess your score, you were aiming for passing barely.

but you knew you couldn't rely on that, you knew that out of all people that if you don't answer something here that isn't you half assing it you're gonna repeat a subject definitely from how bad this exam is gonna put a dent in your grade.

until an idea crossed your mind!

a very academically horrible idea but it was better than nothing.

you ever so slightly moved your head to the side, glancing over to jinwoo and noticing that he was almost done (isn't he going way too fast?!). a random, possibly, stereotypical fact popped in your head that how most koreans are smarter in math which justified the reason why jinwoo finished his exam so fast in math, maybe it's the fact he was korean.

craning over your neck to his desk a bit more, carefully glancing over to your proctor and your classmates making sure that no one was looking. you squinted your eyes as you tried to make sense of his answers and copied it down on your own paper.

a few minutes of you repeating this until you answered the last question, placing your pen down as you huffed quietly in victory. you were pretty confident ok whatever you wrote was accurate on whatever the hell your seatmate wrote but it was better than leaving it blank.

you glanced over to the clock and noticed you had a few more minutes to spare so you checked through your previous answers and even tried comparing it from your seatmate who was now seemingly muttering to himself while swatting his shoulder like he was dusting off something. the hell?....

you ignored it, chalking it up to the old idea that geniuses were weirdoes in their own ways that's why they were smart in the first place. you wouldn't understand because you weren't one.

anyway the moment you started comparing your answers to his paper you thought that maybe most of your answers were correct! until you took more time reading in between the lines and comoared again for good measure. then the realization hits you.

your answer here was an a. his was an a also

it's also d. here and his was a d too..?

the more you skimmed through, even the previous calculations that you made up before you bothered copying off him was also matching the ones on his paper. what the hell was going on?!

...

wait, was he also copying off yo—

RRRRRRIIIINNGG!!!!!!!!!

the timer went off as the realization finally dawned on you, you need to change your answers asap or else you'll be called after class along with this dumbass too!

"okay class, hand over your paper to the person in front of you and then to the people in front please pass it to the middle" your instructor instructed as you panicked. you're not even sure if you can even do last minute changes as you can hear the person behind you wagging their paper behind you was starting to get annoyed that you weren't grabbing their paper.

"hoy! [y.name] kunin mo naman ang papel ko. tapos na ang exam bala, wag mo nailisan ang mga sabat mo" your classmate complained as you groaned in frustration and took the papers behind you and stacked it properly again then passing it to the person in front of you, internally crying over the fact that you just copied off someone who was also copying off you

'why the hell was he even copying off me?! isn't he supposed to be more smarter because he's korea— oh wait that's stereotypical... wait... oh my god. I'm so stupid. why did i assume he was good in math'

you dropped your head on to the desk, a pretty loud thud emanating from your area which earned a few stares from your classmates and your seatmate.

　　　　　✎ᝰ

jinwoo was happy that through his track and field practices and astounding performance in athletics that he managed to snag a spot in the exchange student program, especially to the country where [y.name] was originally in.

in a previous time, he could recall that [y.name] studied in their homecountry for highschool and college but went to korea for higher education. it was one of the things he learned about them early in their relationship in his past life but that was in the past. In the new one, jinwoo was way too impatient to wait for his 20s to meet [y.name]. he needed to see them asap.

so this exchange program was a great opportunity! but the timing was awful. the moment he got in the school in the new country, he unfortunately couldn't get [y.name] as his host home but another family but it was fine since he somehow got in the same section as them. (even if it wasn't, he could just easily ask his advisor if he could switch sections). there was another unfortunate factor though, it was exams season in the school here.

academics wasn't his strongest factor let's say... jinwoo would rather be the brawn than the brains if he had the choice when it comes to academics, which was mainly why he got a scholarship through track and field in his school. thinking is something he would rather do later than now.

which is why when people around him in the new school he stepped foot in started to whisper that he was probably smart, especially in math, baffled him a bit. what gave them the impression that he was remotely any good in mathematics or science? was it because he's an exchange student or was it because of the cool aura he exudes? he couldn't understand it but he can't seem to prove the rumors wrong whenever he recites pretty well in the classes.

well it doesn't matter because the luck he has to land in [y.name] section was worth it because maybe in their eyes, they see him smart.

[a-bad-case-of-the-stephs]

The biggest question Steph grapples with throughout her entire pregnancy is the question of whether or not she should give up her baby. By closely examining the elements from Steph's dream sequence as she gives birth the reason Stephanie eventually decides to give up her baby becomes apparent.

We first see this question arise in Robin #58, where sitting on a rooftop, pretty soon after discovering her pregnancy, Steph brings up the idea that she wants to keep the baby, and says she doesn’t know how she could give it up.

Steph seems to continue with adoption arrangements despite this confession, although we can see that Steph seemingly spends the rest of her pregnancy arc secretly debating the matter.

We see this subtly illustrated through the usage of magazines. Steph begins her pregnancy reading magazines geared towards her age range and gender, ("teen" and "boys") with one magazine seemingly about pregnancy "9 Months".

Robin #59

When we see Steph reading magazines again a few issues later, she has a "clothes for baby" catalogue and a "teen" magazine. She seems to be looking at the baby clothes catalogue when Tim walks into the room, causing her to subtly hide it under the "teen" magazine.

Robin #61 / #62

Steph brings up a big question on that rooftop in Robin #59: how can she possibly give up her baby? And although it appears at first Steph accepts and moves on, choosing to give up her baby, we know that this question never really got answered for Steph, she’s still been thinking all the while throughout her pregnancy, while reading these magazines, while hiding her doubts until the last moment: how is she going to be able to go through with this?

But we don't get final confirmation of this fact until Steph finally voices her conflict to Tim, the same night she goes into labor. Notice how all the magazines around her are now all baby related.

Robin #64

When Steph finally cracks and confesses to Tim her desire to keep the baby after all, Tim tries to reason with her. Although Steph seems to agree with some of his points, it’s very important to note that it still doesn’t seem like Steph’s committed to the choice to give up her baby for adoption. She says she knows it’s the right thing to do, but she trails off with a ‘but…’ making her indecisiveness clear. She still hasn’t really made up her mind.

Steph goes into labor later the same night, and due to unspecified complications is rushed to the hospital. Steph is given some kind of anesthesia, and enters her dream as a c-section is performed. When she exits her dream and awakes, baby born, something has changed.

Robin #65

So if Stephanie, all throughout her pregnancy up has been questioning this, finally voicing her doubts the night before she goes into labor, and when she awakes, she has come to a firm decision she says she figured on her own, the only place and time where Steph could have made this choice is during her dream sequence.

So what about the dream changed her mind?

One of the big repeated themes throughout Stephs dream sequence is a conflation of her own childhood and that of her baby's. Stephs feelings and memories meld, and the line between her and her baby is shaky.

This isn't a random detail, or even an inevitability of a dreamlike state: it's a specific choice and I think it explains how and why Steph makes up her mind the way she does.

Stephs biggest influence towards the idea of giving her baby up for adoption is her fear that her baby might experience a similar childhood to her own. We see this argument start to convince Steph when Tim brings up Stephs own childhood the night she goes into labor and when Steph appears more confident in the idea of giving up her baby in the Secret Origins 80 Page Giant, it's directly connected to the idea of sparing her baby the same garbage childhood she was subjected to.

Steph is convinced finally to give up her baby because the conflation between her babys potential childhood and her own childhood in her dream sequence convinces her that the elements which made her childhood so shitty have not fundamentally changed.

Crystal Brown

Despite their relationship seemingly better than perhaps in years, Dream-Crystal is portrayed as completely oblivious to the danger Arthur presents, ushering him in and even scolding Steph for her concern. If Steph and Crystals relationship is at such a high point, then why would Steph’s mind portray Crystal as someone who opens the door to this danger and ignores this threat?

Because it’s something Steph is dredging up from her own childhood. It’s not malicious, but it’s apparent that despite being a target of Arthur’s physical abuse, Crystal historically has been quick to assume the best of Arthur and ignore hints of his worse nature. By the time Steph’s pregnancy arc has begun Crystal is able to recognize Arthur as shitty, but throughout Steph’s childhood that’s just not the case. (Both drug use and a malfunctioning ‘lie detector’ as Steph puts it, seem to be to blame for this).

Batman Chronicles #22 / Secret Files 80 Page Special / Robin #111

Stephs subconscious doesn't have faith that Crystal has changed. Despite Crystal having progressed and become much more present and cognizant of the harm Arthur poses, Stephs subconscious is still wary. This is realistic. Maybe it's not fair to Crystal, but Steph can't help holding onto this fear, at least subconsciously. To be fair, it can’t have been over a year since Crystal was smiling at Arthur, seemingly accepting him back from prison soon before Steph dons the Spoiler costume for the first time. This breaks part of Steph’s counterargument to Tim in Robin #64 where she asserts she could raise her baby with the help of her mom. Despite all the progress Steph and Crystal have made, Steph still isn't able to fully trust Crystal with her baby, and her dream shows that.

2. Arthur Brown

Cluemaster appears, the subconscious fear of how he poisoned Stephs childhood leaking over to how she thinks about her baby's hypothetical childhood with her. Would her baby be safe from Arthur?

Steph knows very well that Arthur is free from jail and as dangerous as ever: between their encounter in Blunt Trauma where he tried to kill her, and the fact that he destroyed her and Crystals house, the physical threat of Arthur Brown is readily apparent.

Robin #54

But its not the physical harm that her father poses which the dream fixates on. As per usual for Steph, she seems much less scared of her father hurting her as she is frightened by the idea of his criminality as a symbol of her own wrongness.

Just like Steph believes her own self to be poisoned by her relation to Arthur she fears that her baby might be tainted the same way. Her fear isn't absolutely unfounded either. Arthur is free, and he's ransacked and destroyed Stephs home during Cataclysm. His recent violation and destruction of what should be a safe place, much like he barges in and disrupts Stephs peace in her dream, signify how Arthurs still has and would have this huge presence in Steph -- and by extension her baby's -- life.

So, Steph has two reasons which warn her against keeping her baby, two things she is afraid would give her baby the one thing she wants to avoid: it having the same shitty childhood as her. But not everything is the same as when she was a kid, right? Now she has allies, friends even, who are powerful and capable. Hell, Stephs a hero too! That means something, doesn't it?

3. The Heroes Arrive

Stephs subconscious seems to think so, at least to a degree. Steph isn't left alone to save her baby. As her panic mounts, the heroes appear just in time.

And just like that Steph is wearing her Spoiler costume, the symbol of her agency, the thing that allowed her to stand up to her father in the first place.

Vigilantism is therefore empowering, and the connections (albeit highly tenuous connections) Steph has made in the hero community are empowering also.

Steph has new factors, factors which weren't present in her own childhood which can step in, the situations are not actually identical, maybe she can keep her baby, maybe it will be safe.

Some of the heroes she conjures make a lot of sense, Steph is very close with Robin, he's supported her especially during her pregnancy and he's one of the last people she saw before entering her dream. She's had a positive encounter with Connor Hawke which clearly influenced her. Even her tenuous encounter with Huntress proved to Steph Helena was highly capable. I honestly don't know why Nightwing is there, they haven't met. And Batman. The Batman.

Notice Batman's dialogue. If it sounds familiar, that's because Steph said an almost identical line in the last issue, in that same moment Tim and her are discussing Steph keeping her baby.

Dream-Batman parrots the same language as Steph, the same sentiment, but not about Steph, about her baby. How much has really changed, then?

The heroes fight, but its to a standstill. The assorted heroes present fight the assorted villains that Arthur has brought with him, but Arthur himself is untouched, her baby is still in harms way. And Steph, stands there in the middle of it, horrified and still as Crystal laughs behind her.

Steph's subconscious decides its not enough. Theres so many of these heroes, sure, but they can't stop Arthur, can they? They couldn't when it was Steph in danger, when it was Steph who needed saving. It's no ones fault. But Steph knows.

Just like it always has: Steph knows it comes down to her.

4. Catch

Arthur throws her baby into the air, and we've arrived at the final moments of her dream. And so, the final question, the deciding moment. Can Steph rely on herself?

After spending the rest of her dream remaining uncharacteristically helpless and inactive, Steph finally leaps into action.

Let's hone in on that middle panel. It stands out, for good reason. Despite the rest of the dream taking place during the afternoon, with clear light in the sky and a cloudy purple hued sky, the sky in that second panel is pitch black and dotted with stars. And below the baby, there's this light purple grid.

It's not random, we're being shown a time and location we know. That's the exact roofing of Steph’s house, we're looking at Stephs rooftop, at night.

We've seen this time and location before, during Stephs pregnancy, way back in Robin #58, when Steph first questions whether or not she should keep her baby.

This is it, this is the moment. We saw Steph first question how she could give up her baby on this roof, and now, as her baby plummets into an identical scene, right before Stephanie wakes up, we're getting our answer.

But this isn't the only time we see this setting during Stephs pregnancy.

Secret Origins 80 Page Special

The second scene with this framing is a flashback, to a young Steph, sitting on the roof of her house alone, looking at the moon. The attached dialogue is Steph’s narration explaining how she used to dream that she’d see Batman some day. This is a scene about faith and hope. About dreams, about wanting to get saved.

So why do we see the same roof and sky again, for the third and final time during Steph’s pregnancy arc while her baby falls?

Stephanie’s dream sequence is a checklist of reasoning for why she can’t keep her baby. She is reflecting her own childhood onto the baby and she is concluding not enough has changed, she is suspecting her baby could very well be subject to the same circumstances.

And it culminates in this final moment. Crystal, while more present than ever is still not fully reliable in Steph's mind. Arthur is on the loose and as sadistic as ever. The heroes can show up, but they can’t save her baby, just like Batman couldn’t save Steph on that rooftop years and years ago. Just like then, it’s down to Steph on her own. Thats why when she lunges out for her baby, the baby is falling onto that rooftop. It’s both a reminder of the question Steph is stuck considering and an explanation for how she reaches her answer.

Because she can’t rely on anyone else, because she has to leap out, reach out, save her baby, and ultimately that look of horror as the baby falls isn’t a look of anticipation, it’s a look of utter and horrific acceptance. I don’t think Steph believes she reached her baby in time. I think Steph doesn’t think she can save her baby at all.

Steph is a very proactive character. It's strange to see her hesitate towards action, and extremely strange to see that when that action is saving someone from danger. But she's indecisive throughout her pregnancy, and she's helpless throughout her dream sequence until the very last second. Even donning the Spoiler costume doesn't help. She's helpless in this dream.

So, checklist gone through, conclusions drawn, Steph wakes up and makes the only decision she can, the decision which goes against her very nature: Stephanie lets go.

[dunmeshistash]

Can you post all "5 key facts" from adventures bible please

On first glance this was supposed to be pretty straight forward, I was just gonna go on the AB and post the pages with the "5 keywords" sections but.... (I've had this on my drafts for almost a week) I don't really trust yen press translations anymore. There's several sections in the AB that were straight up mistranslated or were translated in a way that imply things that weren't implied in the original as far as I can tell

Just a couple of examples

EHScans:

Yen press:

EHScans:

Yen Press:

So EHScans says Marcille's mother "is currently" a court mage while yen press says she "served" as one in past tense. Yen Press says Chilchuck has "Forbidden" Laios from dating while EHScans says he "warned Laios that it should be forbidden", in both these cases as far as I can tell EHScans is more accurate to whats being said (but there's some sections I'm not sure). It's small things like that but since there's so little context I think Yen Press interpretations being so "off" with what would make sense makes them sound inaccurate (in my opnion, I'm not fluent in japanese)

This is gonna get even longer so I'll put a read more

I think I trust the EHScans translations more but there's a section I was in doubt about:

EHScans implies Mithrun visits his brother and Yen Press implies the opposite, as far as I could tell from the original text it just says they "meet each other"? I'm not sure if there's any implication of who visits who

Here's the original text and the Yen press translation

ミスルンが頻死の重傷を負ってからは 、5年に1回程度は会っているようで 、「いつでも帰って来い」などと言われている 。

What his brother says is 「いつでも帰って来い」 which means "come back (home)" ? I dont really understand if home is implied and if it means come back home (where we are) or come back home (somewhere else). This is giving me a headache, I think it would make more sense for his brother to visit him since Mithrun was sick but if the original really is vague they should have kept it that way I think.

Anyway, here's the rest of the pages from EHScans, I might make separate posts later for each character with their 5 keywords and some notes of my own of what I think sounds off in the translations.

[firelikestars]

Two Amnesiac Archangels

Thoughts on Crowley’s memory of his fall and how it could relate to the finale.

SO.

Many of us have noticed that Crowley seems to have a hard time remembering why he fell:

or anyone he knew during his time as an angel. For example, Furfur:

and Saraquel:

Saraquel: “Hello Crowley. I didn’t expect to ever see you again.”

Crowley: “Do we know each other?”

Saraquel: “When you were an angel. We worked together on the horse head nebula.”

We have on screen evidence from before the beginning of what likely got him into trouble (asking questions) as well as a few lines from the Metatron that likely solidify that evidence as true:

The Metatron, who probably has the most accurate information about Crowley’s fall, regardless of if he’s sharing it truthfully.

I noticed two lines in the companion to owls minisode where Crowley seems to emotionally impacted by someone being punished by god without knowing why and it got me thinking:

Crowley, to Job’s goats: “You should know why you’re about to die. God has abandoned you. The God who claims to love you, who demands your praise, has given you up to die. Bad luck.”

and then later on:

Job: “How sunk in sin must I be not only to deserve all this, but not even to know why.”

Crowley’s reaction:

As we know, Jim’s memory was incredibly spotty. Sometimes the name Gabriel would be familiar to him, sometimes it wouldn’t. He remembered full lines from “Everyday” in one moment and then in the next, couldn’t remember if it was even a song that exists. Other times he remembered long quotes from God.

This scene to me reads as Crowley empathizing with Jim about his frustration with his memory:

Jim: “I feel like an empty house.”

Crowley: “A house?”

Jim: “Yes, a house where someone lived for a very long time but now they’re gone and the house can sort of tell where the things used to be. Like when I remembered how it all began.”

*Crowley tries to get Jim to remember more*

Jim: “I don’t know, I just…”

Crowley: “I know. Looking at where the furniture isn’t.”

The parallels just seem too strong to be coincidental. It seems like whatever heaven did to Gabriel’s memory they did to Crowley’s as well.

My guess is that on a good day, Crowley remembers that he was involved in creating the universe:

that he was punished for asking questions,

that he used to be a high ranking angel:

and nothing else. Some days he might not even remember that much.

Now, back to Gabriel for a second. If heaven did something to Gabriel’s memory that allowed it to manifest in a form physical enough to place inside of container (the fly), is it possible that every angel’s memory that was wiped in that way is still physically in heaven somewhere?

It’s unclear if Aziraphale remembers who Crowley was as an angel.

We have lines from a companion to owls that indicate yes:

Aziraphale: “I know the angel you were.”

Crowley: “The angel you knew is not me.”

and the fact that they don’t recognize each other in Eden that would indicate no.

If Aziraphale truly assumes the supreme archangel role upon returning to heaven, he would have significantly more access to heaven’s files. Probably more access than Crowley had when he infiltrated the hive. Assuming he doesn’t already know, do we think Aziraphale might happen upon information about Crowley’s past in the finale? How much would it change how he feels about heaven? How he feels about Crowley? And how long can I truly wait to find out before I just write a fic about it?

[fanganfessions]

I believe Wolfgang was a genuinely good, but misguided character.

And I believe if he hadn't died in chapter 1, he only would've become more misguided. But in a way that's entirely justified from his POV but terrible from Damon's and Eva's.

For example, imagine that he reads into Damon and Eva's speech from chapter 1, and how they think group bonding is only a way to get other people to lower their guard (at least from them). He also sees them being apathetic to idea of murder. He then sees Damon and Eva getting along with the others and participating in bonding moments they themselves basically deemed only useful for potential killers. Wolfgang overthinks this and spends the whole night up awake worrying about everyone else.

Heck, about Eva, he'd be correct in the case of canon, her bonding moments with the larger group (gaming tournament) were only a cover-up for murder. But this isn't canon, and we're basically going off of the AU idea that Eva spends more time thinking about the killing game tuan the postee, gets dragged to the tournament by Diana who isn't busy that day, and has fun and bonds with the group, especially Cassidy with their niche favorite video game (You could also have Eva not bond with the group, but just not commit murder as well for this AU).

But Wolfgang doesn't see this. He only sees people who deemed bonding moments murder opportunities engaging in those exact moments. He overthinks this so much that he distorts his own perception of Damon and Eva, from classmates who accused people of being potential murderers and sabotaged the group's spirit (still a horrible thing to do, but not as horrible as what he thinks they are in this AU), to possibly cold-blooded murderers who are taking their opportunities (big emphasis on possibly here, he doesn't see them as monsters, but he also doesn't really see them as people due to his twisted perception).

And he starts doing what he thinks is right. He begins asking Diana and Kai whether they feel safe at night, whether they'd like to switch rooms to room with eachother or Grace and himself, that its fine for them to ask to do so and no it won't inconvenience anyone in the slightest, he asks Toshiko to stay away for them, as shes in potential danger because of her age, he asks Desmond to keep an eye on them as Desmond's a marksman and he'd surely be able to defend himself incase anything happened, he starts being a little more vocal about them being suspicious then more and more, he keeps an eye on them every time he sees them with the group, whenever they're close to being left alone with only one other person he makes sure to stay behind so nothing happens.

But just because he's the hero of his own story, trying to protect his friends from people he thinks are going to hurt them (to reiterate, this isn't entirely ungrounded in fact, Eva did murder him in canon) doesn't mean he's not the coldhearted villain of another. Damon and Eva don't see these action as "harmless" or "preventative". They see him trying to ostracize him, asking Desmond to basically stalk them, making Toshiko run away, sabotaging their relations with their respective roommates to make them alone and less safe at night, never letting them be alone with one of their classmates and fostering distrust between the group while preaching the exact opposite. They see him as a giant hypocrite who is entirely delusional.

in short, I really think villains who are nice and kindhearted to everyone but the protagonist are cool and should be featured more.

(Most of this is AU but I think it could've had a decent chance to become canon if Wolfgang and Eva were long-term characters)

⠀