#“Subtle? If it's subtle what does it matter” Listen here motherfucker.

[itsadamnbeehive]

picky eater rant lol

[psithxrism]

Your widened, doe eyes stared up at him, fingers twitching at your sides and eyes darting to the doorway of the kitchen, mapping out your escape to get away from the man who was currently glaring daggers in your skull.

He caught on to your little gesture that was far too obvious and he chuckled in his head at how naive you were being. And before he could tell you not to think about running away from him, your little legs took you as far as you could as fast as you could. But of course, he was faster. His lanky arms wrapped around your shoulders as he dropped his weight over you and bringing you to the ground, chest pressing harshly into your back as he wrestled you into submission. 

No, Rindo wasn’t here to do this to you, to protect you from his brother, Ran, who was turning you onto your back below him, eyes raking over your body and undressing you with them. Rindo wasn’t anywhere around to help you from his brother’s next moves and here you are, chest heaving quickly from fear and adrenaline rushing through you as you look up to your assailant, grinning too widely at you, braids hanging down the sides of his face and tickling your shoulders as he leans closer to you. 

“You want to repeat what you just said?”

You didn’t answer, lips pressing together tightly and eyes squinting at him, a sign of rebellion that he wasn’t fond of seeing, but more excited to have the chance to put you in your place, stuffed full of his cock and arms bound to make sure you couldn’t push him away or claw at him and risk you digging too deep to gain power and run away. He wanted you pliant, pinned, and panting. 

“Don’t want to talk now, huh? Don’t worry, we’ll fix that...”

Trapped against his headboard, arms bound up above your head and legs spread wide for those prying, purple eyes to see, you felt embarrassed. You wanted to cry out for your best friend, wishing he’d return home soon to free you, but as the tongue of his brother lapped at your already sloppy pussy, your thoughts of Rin fled the establishment. 

“So wet for me... I’m beginning to think this is what you wanted all along, my tongue deep in this slutty pussy, my fingers rubbing that puffy clit... Hm?”

Your mouth widened, eyes trained on that skilled tongue and deft fingers connecting to your clit and slit as you groaned and tossed your head back, “I’d prefer your brother...”

He didn’t want to hear that, he didn’t want you anywhere near his brother anymore, and he definitely didn’t want you to mention him or think of him while he was the one between your legs-- Ran, only Ran. Was he not enough for you? Too much, perhaps? What did Rin have that Ran didn’t? Why did Rin have to find you first? But that wasn’t the issue--it didn’t matter who found you first, Rin would still have won your heart. He was funny in a more subtle, ‘did you just come for me or are you being funny’ way, he was smoother, calmer, less teasing and cocky or arrogant. He had his fair share of God-complex moments, but he was never the type to boast so openly as Ran would.

And when he snapped you out of your daze of thinking about Rin between your legs instead, his hands found purchase on either thigh and pushed them up to your chest, cock already sprung free and kissing at your clit, his hips pushing forward to tease your wet cunt and moisten his tip. 

“You keep thinking about my brother while I’m right here about to fuck the life out of you... That’s rude, pretty girl.”

He slipped his cock between your folds, not caring much about your pleas for him to stop and the threats flying in one ear and out the other. Motherfucker wasn’t even listening. 

“I hate you. You care more about my brother than you care for me-- in fact,” his hips pushed into you further, “I think it’s safe to say that you don’t care for me at all and I let you stay overnight in my house. I suppose the least you could do for me is give me a taste of this cunt, huh?”

Finally bottomed out inside your cunt, tightly hugging him between your walls, he groaned and slapped the back of your thigh, gripping the soft, supple flesh and letting his nails dig in just enough to draw blood on both thighs, he looked down at you with hooded eyes. “So this is what Rin gets to feel every night you sleep in his bed, huh? No-no wonder he didn’t want to let you hang out around me. Had to life to him to force him out of the house just to get you alone, stupid little brother.”

He did make Rin go out to do some odd job to get him away for a while, pointless errands that he would eventually catch on and return home once he realized, but Ran thought he’d be finished with you before then. He underestimated how good that pussy is and is paying the price for it now. 

He grunted when he seated himself back inside you, hips rolling into yours and eliciting the sexiest sound he’s heard from you from the back of your throat. He wanted more, he had to have you--all of you, even if his brother was watching him ram into you like a mad Russian, seething at the sight of you tied up and squirming under him, still begging for Ran to stop before he caught the words that were passing between pleas, “I want Rin, want Rin...”

Both brothers were angry right now, one pushing into you even harder than before, sweet spot abuse blinding your sight as you began to see stars, cunt clenching around Ran’s long dick and fluttering as your pussy gushed your nectar all over his cock and stomach. 

“Oh, princess, look what you’re doing... making a fuckin’ mess on my dick... Keep doing that, Gonna fuck ever last trace of my brother outta this sloppy cunt.”

“No the fuck you’re not.”

The sound of Rin’s voice brought you out of your post-orgasm haze, clit throbbing and hips twitching against Ran as you looked desperately and sluggishly at him, his eyes seemed to soften when he caught the glimpse of your expression. He would be lying if he said the look on your face didn’t make him feel good, turned on, happy even, knowing you wanted him even when Ran was beating up your guts. 

“Ah, so you finally caught on. You should’ve been gone longer, baby brother.”

He never left your cunt, thumb pressing harsh circles against your clit and his eyes on his brother. “Rin~ please make him stop~” You moaned out, head thrown back and hips jutting against Ran’s fingers. 

“Stop fucking her. She’s mine.” 

Rin immediately pulled his brother off you, cunt making a loud shlip as Ran’s cock left you empty, clenching around nothing and moaning at the sound and tug against your walls. Rin made haste in pulling his fat dick out of his boxers, slapping his brother in the face with it and pushing him down on the floor before quickly turning to you and slamming into you without a second thought. 

He leaned over your shocked form, mouth even wider at the stretch Rin provided and biting your tongue at the speed his hips fell into, the roll of his hips hitting your sweet spot repeatedly as he kissed you, tongue battling with yours as you moaned happily into his mouth. 

“How many times did he make you cum, baby girl?”

“Once...daddy. I’m sorry. I’m r-really sorry.”

His hips stuttered against yours, his cock jumping at the name and how sweet you were being to him, making his brother’s eye twitch and jealousy skyrocket. How dare you be so kind to his brother after he just fucked your first orgasm with him out of you.

He had to admit, it was sexy seeing you splayed out under his brother and he wanted to join, but the way he tied you up was too hard to get under you to fuck your ass, so he had to watch. Or, he could fight his brother over you.

“’M gonna cum, daddy... gonna-hm-agh!”

Your throat was dry, voice hoarse as you screamed Rin’s name as his cock pushed past the rim of your cervix and deeper into your womb, squirting all over his cock. He was nowhere near his climax, stamina too high after having practice with your body so much since you started coming to his house on the regular just for that reason, per his request. 

When you had that conversation with Rin about having sex, it was the most mind-boggling situation you’d ever experienced. He worked his way into the conversation, dragging a naive little pup after him and into the darkness of his mind that night. You didn’t even go home because it was too late and you were too fucked out to even tell the time. He thought it was cute how you fell into his trap all too willingly, a perfect, pliant pussy all for him.

Perhaps, that night, Ran fell in love with your screams of pleasure, but he had his own relationships to worry about, but he grew tired of them and would find himself jerking his cock into his hand while his brother jerked himself into your pretty, little cunt night after night. He was tired of it, tired of being the one that wasn’t sought after by every girl Rin brought home. 

He wanted everything his brother had, that included you, the girl who had locked Rin down in such short time without even batting an eye lash. You were very intelligent, until it came to Rin, he had you by the clit and the naivety in your persona, the only things he could use against you and he liked it like that. 

He didn’t like dumb girls, he liked smart girls with a mildly innocent side, so he could corrupt them but still have a little push back, so he could have those meaningful conversations about nothing in particular while he was drilling them into his bed. He loved hearing you try to offer a rebuttal when your butt was winding back against him, slapping his hips when he met your thrusts.

And even now, he couldn’t resist asking you those questions that made you give him that cross eyed, tongue out expression, awaiting his spit in your mouth before he would stop after your orgasm passed and would await that answer. Before you could give it, his brother clapped a hand around your mouth and glared at his brother, cock still on hard and your cum drying on his cock.

“Oh, you’re still here...”

“Yeah, and I want her.”

“Nah...”

“Mm~” You hummed seductively against Ran’s hand, feeling Rin moving sweetly inside of you as your eyes fluttered shut. Ran knew Rin was using your body to tease him, your light moan against his hand making both their cocks twitch. 

“Untie her and I’ll let you fuck her face...”

Ran was far too eager to untie you, hand leaving your face and practically ripping the rope from your arms. Rin leaned over your body once more, kissing you passionately as his hips pressed flush against yours, “Suck my brother good, yeah?”

You stared at Rin in disbelief, brows knitting together at his request, barely getting the idea before he turned you over and scooted you width-wise across the bed. 

“I will bite your dick off if you come anywhere near my mouth, Haitani.”

“Ah, don’t be like that, kitten, you took me so well earlier, shouldn’t be a problem now...”

It was definitely going to be a long night...

got lazy, might make a part two later...

[ackermelon]

I woke up and realised that I had sent a text to my friend at 4 A.M. the previous night. I had no recollection of that, but the text simply said, "I just know Zeke smells like sweat all the time." Half-asleep me knows what's up.

Anyway, so this started a long conversation about how some anime characters would smell. Here are the highlights (attack on titan and haikyuu):

Attack on Titan:

Erwin: I think he'd smell like sweat, but not the overpowering, fly-killing, coma-inducing, kind. It's like, natural, subtle, and weirdly comforting. He looks to be the type to never get cold. Like, he just radiates heat, and he tends to sweat, even in winter. However, he knows how to manage it and still smell decent.

Hange: Wet dog. I'm sorry, but they look like they shower once every blue moon. Occasionally, Moblit would hose them down, but after he... you know, Hange focused more on work and less on themself.

Levi: Sorry to be bland and "like the other girls", but he smells like detergent. Everyone says that because it's true. He does all the cleaning, and makes sure to remain clean himself. He would also smell like soap, but only a little. I feel like he's the opposite of Erwin: his body temperature is naturally cold, so he doesn't sweat as often, unless they're outside the walls fighting titans and shit.

Jean & Connie: Sweat. All the fucking time. However, after the timeskip, they started taking the time to clean themselves to save the people around them from having to inhale their revolting body odour. Towards the end of the manga, they invest in some quality perfume because it was about time they got laid.

Colt: He would smell like fresh laundry; like, his natural scent would be so refreshing - very clean and warm. I described it as, "infused with serotonin." But maybe that's just me, considering I would risk it all for this delicious man.

Floch: Nasty. Call me biased because I hate this son of a bitch, motherfucking stinky poopy asshole. I feel like I could smell his nasty ass breath through the screen. Piss yellow teeth and lots of cavities. He doesn't even have to raise his arms for us to smell his deadly body odour. I feel like gagging just looking at his face; imagine having to smell him too.

Summary: Realistically, they would all smell like sweat; I'm pretty sure Isayama said that pretty much all the characters have bad hygiene. I wouldn't blame them considering their life was at risk from the second they'd left the womb. However, I believe some of them manage it better than the others.

Haikyuu:

Daichi: He definitely uses body spray, but it's much less subtle than Axe, and it actually smells good. He doesn't use it everyday - mostly on the days he has vb training or whenever he feels like it. His natural scent is... oh boy, lordy lord. Let's leave it at that.

Sugawara: Fruity. Suga smells fruity. He loves berry and citrus-scented perfumes and he never leaves the house without spraying some. It's not overpowering, but you instantly smell it when you get near him. It's perfect.

Hinata & Kageyama: Listen, they shower everyday, and they come out of that shower smelling pretty good. However, whatever happens in the 7.32 minutes after that undos the shower completely. Like can they sit down for a second??? They reek of sweat. Hinata doesn't even notice, but Kageyama carries baby wipes around to try and manage the odour. Hinata starts doing the same halfway through his second year.

Tanaka & Nishinoya: ... You know what's coming.... Team Axe spray. They spray, inhale and ingest that shit. They go through 16 bottles a month. However, they drifted away from that cursed product during their third year and started using a cologne they stole from Akiteru's bag (he forgot it at Tanaka's house after he finished "hanging out" with Saeko). Yes, they did find condoms in there and Tanaka now greets him with a glare.

Tsukishima: This man always smells good. Always. You will never catch him lacking. Usually, he wouldn't wear any artificial scents or perfumes, but when it comes to occasions.... My God. This man will pull out the most luxurious, most expensive perfume you have ever seen. He has a lot of savings which he uses to buy shit like that. But yeah, you will instantly get down on one knee if you were to catch a sniff of him.

Yamaguchi: He isn't a big fan of perfumes, but his natural scent is phenomenal. He often smells like his body wash, which is just a nice, soapy scent.

Kiyoko: Flowers. Expensive Marc Jacobs perfume. Heart eyes for my queen.

Kuroo & Bokuto: As first-years, they were loyal to their bottle of Axe. However, they did notice that they were basically repelling girls (that didn't matter as much when they became second years and Kenma and Akaashi came into the picture <3). They ended up "borrowing" Daichi's body spray during training camp that year and their loyalty shifted to that. They have yet to return the now empty bottle to its rightful owner.

Kenma: Doesn't give two shits. If he smells like soap, then he smells like soap. If he smells like piss and diarrhea, then so be it.

Akaashi: This man... This man. He moisturises daily. I just know it. He would borrow expensive lotion from his mother since he isn't the biggest fan of perfumes. Vanilla, yes. And whenever he doesn't use scents, he would smell like laundry powder, Lavender. Or just heaven in general.

Oikawa: We all know this man is broke but pretends he isn't. We just do. He uses cheap dollar store perfume and tells people it's fucking Gucci. You know he would. No use denying it. People just go along with it because he always looks submissive and breedable.

Iwaizumi: Definitely a cologne guy. He puts it on after his daily shower and it lasts all day. Aoba Johsai members are all in love with him. He's the human manifestation of a gay awakening. As for Iwaizumi Hajime, 27, athletic trainer, he uses a more expensive cologne and the MSBY players, their opponents AND the audience all fawn and drool over him. They didn't come to watch or play the game, they came to watch Iwaizumi Hajime and perhaps catch a whiff of that musky scent. He's thick though so he doesn't notice.

Summary: I don't think these high schoolers would go without some sort of artificial scent, with some exceptions of course. Let's just appreciate the ones that don't use Axe spray. If I wanted my nose hairs gone, I'd wax them.

Thank you for listening. Feel free to add on.

[obeiii-mee]

How will the bros react to MC self-doubting themselves? Like saying bad things about them or can't be serious someone give them compliment.

Supportive demon bois coming right up! Sorry I took so long to write this anon! Thank you so much for the ask! (Also, thank you all for the love on my previous posts!)

————————————

The Brothers with an MC who self doubts themselves:

Lucifer:

-As the embodiment of pride itself, Lucifer has an overwhelming amount of confidence, almost all the damn time

-So, he was flabbergasted to learn that you weren’t the same

-He always insisted that you aren’t anything but perfect, yet you always seemed to brush the compliments off with a shrug and an awkward smile

-Well, shit, we can’t have that

-Lucifer just got 10x more serious about the matter

-He pulls a really stupid concerned face whenever you insult yourself and he looks more and more like a 48 year old man/dad each time it happens

-He, as of late, increased the number of pet names he has for you and the amount of compliments he gives you each day

-He refuses to let you talk badly about yourself anywhere, at any point in time and encourages every little step you take towards bettering yourself like crazy

- Lucifer wants to prove to you that you are an absolute ray of sunshine and he will go to any lengths to do just that (do not ask)

-He’s even more affectionate than usual which confuses just about everyone in the House of Lamentation, yourself included

-His brothers are feeling a disturbance in the force and they don’t know how to feel about it

-You are possibly the best thing that’s happened to him since he fell as angel and Lucifer is ready to do whatever he can to help you realise that

Mammon:

-“You’re an idiot!”

-“*Sigh*, I know.”

-“Wha-Wait! Y-you can’t say thAT!”

-The Great Mammon is seriously worried about his human

-Being the dense motherfucker he is (i still love him tho) it took him weeks to realise you’re not all that confident in yourself

-At some point in your relationship, he jokingly called you annoying and you just went “Yeah I’ve been told. Sorry.”

-His jaw literally dropped and he almost cried

-He would have choked if he was drinking something

-Tsundere Mammon has gone bye bye and here comes the cuddling teddy bear that is your boyfriend

-He also doesn’t have as much self love for himself as he sometimes pretends to have so he’s kinda in the same boat

-Which means your boat is leaking and you’re perfectly fine with it while he’s panicking and trying to throw water overboard with his hands

-His brothers call him an idiot a lot but he’s a very sociable guy with people skills that he uses all the time in order to coax you out of your self pitiying shell

-Will whine every time you call yourself ‘useless’ or disagree with his compliments because what the hell, you’re literally the most gorgeous being ever let me love youuuu

-When it comes to you and your happiness, he ain’t fucking around. He will snarl at anyone that even looks at you in the wrong way

-Did that to Lucifer once, guess a what happened

-You’ve definitely helped him come to terms with the fact that he is loveable and not a good for nothing scum

-So now it’s your turn!

-Let him kiss your insecurities away please

-Your presence makes him feel wanted so he wants the same for you!

Levi:

-Well then

-It takes two to tango ya know?

-He is the KING of self loathing and no confidence whatsoever in anything he does so every time you put yourself down, he counters it with a self deprecating insult as well

-“I suck.”

-“Nah, you’re pretty awesome normie. I’m the shut in, disgusting otaku who can barely set foot outside his bedroom without having an anxiety attack.”

-It’s like you’re trying to outdo the other on who is worse

-Truth is, he really admires you, especially knowing you chose to date him; an anime nerd with no social life and no communication skills whatsoever

-It hurts a bit, every time he builds up the courage to actually compliment you and you not taking it seriously

-That’s because he recognises that he’s the same and just as harsh on himself as you are

-Levi knows self hatred is something that takes time to demolish

-But you are his Henry after all (also his partner but whatevs)

-He’s not gonna leave you hanging when you need him the most

-He also gradually stops calling you a normie as your relationship progresses, though it still slips through every now and again

-Basically, the first time he realised that you think negatively of yourself, his immediate reaction was: Haha lmao relatable

-But now, every time it happens, he gets all serious

-Puts his controller down and everything, it’s like witnessing a very rare phenomenon and it’s creepy as shit

-He’s also made an effort to be more physically affection though he is kinda shy about it because damn it he just wants to hug you every time you speak badly of yourself

-Probably writes a list at some point stating all the reasons why you are better than him and Ruri chan combined, it’s rlly sweet

Satan:

-He’s a bit curious as to where that mentality has come from

-What triggered you to be so self doubtful?

-He’s basically your psychotherapist and asks you a lot of questions trying to find different causes and solutions for your issues

-Honestly, he puts so much effort into trying to understand, reading books about it from the human realm and whatever he can find in order to help you

-He scrunches up his nose every time you call yourself an idiot or anything of the sort

-Satan knows that insisting you’re wonderful won’t exactly help you overcome this problem of yours

-But that doesn’t stop him from doing it

-It’s not like you can ignore his comments because he will keep complimenting you until you accept them

-He also repeats a lot of pick up lines but that’s just part of being his partner

-What do you mean you’re worthless?!! He would literally give away all of his books and his hatred for Lucifer in exchange for your well being!

-Satan is possibly the smartest out of all of his brothers, so he uses a tactical approach on this one

-Direct affectionate gestures don’t work on you so he’s gonna be more subtle

-Would slightly hint that you are amazing every time you do something for him, like fetching him a book or something

-“Ah thank you. I don’t know what I would do without you love.”

-He’s a lot smoother than he gives himself credit for

-He just appreciates your existence and that there’s someone out there that he doesn’t need to be act hostile or fake toward

-Satan is ready to sit down and listen to you talk about your insecurities for hours on end

-You would quietly say something bad about yourself and he would run through the House of Lamentation before bursting into the room you are in, shouting ‘No! That’s wrong!’ (going Danganronpa on your asses)

-“Welp, I fucked up again. I can’t do anything right.”

-And then, in the distance you hear boss music starting

Asmo:

-*Shocked Gasp*

-How could you say such things about yourself???? Is that even leGAl?

-Of course, the literally prince of Lust, with all of his narcissism, has never experienced things like ‘self doubt’ of ‘bad self esteem’

-Pfft, the fuck is that?

-He only uses the most positive of words when he describes himself

-So obviously he almost falls off the bed when he hears you insulting yourself for the first time

-But ya know, that would leave bruises on his beautiful skin

-“Oh darling, you’re not annoying or a moron! You’re not anything like Mammon!”

-That was a below belt fatal hit, press f in the chat for the second eldest

-At some point, he just genuinely believes you’ve been spending too much time with Levi and that his negativity started rubbing off on you

-But then you tell him you’ve always been like this and he almost has a crisIS

-He’s like ‘Haha, no, we’re going to get a spa day out tomorrow and a few shopping sprees so I can prove to you that you are magnificent in every way imaginable.’

-Asmo loves pampering you in general but on the days he sees you feeling extra sorry for yourself, he goes above and beyond

-Gets very hurt when you brush off his compliments because he just wants you to accept the fact that you’re beautiful

-He’s like a supportive mom lmao, whenever you’re feeling self doubtful, he goes “You’re doing great sweetie, keep it up I’m really proud of you.”

-It’s up to you to decide whether that helps or not

-He’s such a sweetheart in reality, it’s hard to remember that he’s supposed to be horny all the time

-Well he is but that’s not the point, you’re way more important

-Asmo is so much fun to write cuz I can make him so dramatic it’s hilarious

Beel:

-Oh no :(

-He gets very sad everytime you self deprecate yourself

-You can’t do it with him in the room because he’s going to start crying and give you this kicked puppy stare, it will break your heart

-Beel kinda comes over and goes “If I give you some of my food will you please stop saying bad things about yourself? Because it’s not true.”

-Well you can’t say no to that face

-He feels like it’s his fault you’re this self doubtful even though you’ve tried to explain to him you’ve always been like this

-He goes crying to his twin half the time because he doesn’t know what to do

-“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to drop it! Fucking hell, I’m such a fucking klutz.”

-“Sniffle no you’re not.”

-He’s like, giving you large portions of his food now

-Because food makes him happy so he wants you to be happy too

-🙂

-His brothers go in shock every time because the only other person Beel has ever shared his food with before was Belphie

-Physical affection goes through the roof with this guy

-Bone crushing hugs btw

-Your self worth is so immeasurable with him, you can’t even measure it

-W h o a

-I’m being serious, don’t talk badly about yourself in front of him unless you want to be hugged into next week

-You are a literal angel in his eyes, of course he thinks highly of you

-He’s just hoping his presence isn’t making your self esteem worse, that’s the thing that keeps him up at night

-Idk why but he does think that he is a bad influence on your mental well being since he’s a demon

-Beel gives you compliments all the time and it confuses him when you laugh them off uncertainly because he wasn’t joking or lying??

-He’s always supportive of your choices and encourages you to be more confident

-The same way you show your support everytime you come to his games to cheer him on

-Overall, he just wants you to feel special and appreciated

-Because you deserve it

-IneedmyselfaBeel

Belphie:

-He feels like absolute shit

-Becuase he’s well aware he‘s called you a few...not so nice words in the past

-Back then, he only thought he meant everything he said but now that he’s hearing you accept his insults and actually repeating them yourself?

-It hurts his brain and he wants to smash his head against all four walls of the room for being such a cretin

-You do tell him it’s not exactly his fault you think so badly of yourself

-But he still believes he fueled it

-So now he needs to fix it

-He’s tried everything and I mean everything

-It’s kinda working, slow progress is made which he’s really happy about but you know, it’s gonna take a while

-He finally settles on physical affection as the best way to communicate his gratefulness for you being youself

-Oh, he wasn’t hugging you before? He is now, get your ass next to him and let him cuddle you

-Handholding has increased by 69% in the last month, sorry for the loss of your right hand with how much he squeezes it

-Sometimes, he can’t help but a throw an insult at you in a playful manner, because he’s an asshole

-But he always makes sure you understand that he was just joking

-He’s such a little shit, you would be having a chat with him and you would subtly drop a insult at yourself hoping he wouldn’t notice

-But then he stops dead in his tracks, kisses you, says “Shut up, you’re stunning” and then he goes right back to the previous conversation like nothing happened

-Accept his compliments damn it otherwise he will continue to bug you about it for the rest of the day

-He’s an eboy and he’s a dickhead a times, but he just goes soft for you tbh

-If you’re feeling really bad about yourself, he won’t even say anything

-He will just big spoon you for the next 24 hours, good luck going to the bathroom or any meals during that time

-Because once you’re in his grip, you’re not getting out that easily

-He gets so pissy if anyone says something even slightly negative about you to your face

-One time, a random demon called you stupid in one of the classes at RAD and he was like ‘bïtch excuse me what?’

-Snapped his head around at him and everything

-He would have done something worse but he was lazy and feeling really petty

-So Belphie kicked him in the privates from under his desk like a damn spoiled brat

-And then he turned his head back to you, all smiles and rainbows and puppies

-I’m simping so hard for a fictional character wtf

-I had to write more protective Belphie cuz I can’t find anything of the sort anymore and I need flUFF

(Haha, I don’t know what this post is, my writing has officially taken a shit lmao. Sorry this took so long to finish, I kept going back to edit all of them)

Al~

[borisbubbles]

Character analysis: Vivienne de Fer (Dragon Age Inquisition)

So, if you’ve wondered where I popped off to the past two months or so, I’m going to give you an answer - I finally bought Dragon Age Inquisition (legit on my gaming wishlist since its 2014 release) and I’ve been obsessed with it ever since. 

The main draw to this game however, isn’t so much the gameplay (if you want a game that feels similar but has better gameplay - Assassin’s Creed Odyssey is what you’d want instead), but the storytelling and particularly the character development are top notch. All nine companions are fascinating and fleshed out in such a realistic manner I’m still gasping in awe on my fifth playthrough.  Thus, a post on it is in order. It’s a bit different from my usual content, but don’t let that discourage you - clearing my head from Dragon Age will allow me to let Eurovision back in and continue my unfinished 2020 ranking.  In this post, I will be analyzing one of DAI’s most interesting characters - none other than Madame de Fer herself, Vivienne.  Now, I’m under the impression that this is a rather unpopular opinion but I absolutely love Vivienne. And no, I won’t apologize for it. As a Templar-thumping elitist with a icy, sardonic demeanor the sheer ‘Idea Of A Vivienne’ is meant to make your head spin. Dragon Age has always been a franchise in which mages are a socially surpressed group and to be confronted with a socially confident enchantress who likes Templars and seemingly supports the social shunning out of her own ambition is the walking embodiment of flippancy. 

and yet, I feel a lot of sympathy for Vivienne. 

Yes, she’s a bitch. She knows she’s one and she’s a-ok with it. I won’t argue with that. Sadly, the “Vivienne is a bitch” rhetoric also drastically sells her short. Vivienne is highly complex and her real personality is as tragic as it is twisted. 

Madame de Fer

So let’s start with what we are shown on the surface. Vivienne is a high-ranking courtier from an empire notable for its deadly, acid-laced political game. She seemingly joins the Inquisition for personal gain, to acrue reputation and power, and eventually be elected Divine (= female pope) at the end of the game. She presents herself as a despicable blend of Real Housewife, Disney Villain, and Tory Politician, all rolled into one ball of sickening, unctuous smarm. Worse, the Inquisitor has no way to rebuke Vivienne’s absurd policies and ideas. You can’t argue with her, convince her to listen to your differing viewpoints or even kick her out the Inquisition. She has a way with words where she can twist arguments around in such a fashion that she lands on top and makes the other person look like the irrational party.

“Thus speaks the Inquisitor who has made so many mature and level-headed choices so far. Such as releasion malcontents upon the population without safeguards to protect them should they turn into abominations. Very wise. I rearranged some furniture. Lives aren’t thrown into jeopardy by my actions. Perhaps a little perspective is needed.”

She’s Cersei Lannister on creatine, Dolores Umbridge on motherfucking roids. If you look at merely the surface, then yes, Vivienne looks like the worst person ever created. I love a good anti-villainess however, and she’s definitely one. 

Yet, she never actually does anything ‘evil’? Yes, she is ‘a tyrant’ as a Divine, but 1) the person saying this is Cassandra, whose dislike for mage freedom is only matched by her dislike of being sidelined 2) Divine Vivienne isn’t bad to mages either? (hold that thought, I’ll get to it). She never actually sabotages the Inquisition, no matter how low her approval with the Inquisitor gets. She never attempts to stop them, no matter how annoyed she is. She’s one of the most brutally honest companions in the cast, in fact. (It always surprises me people call her a ‘hypocrite’ - you keep using that word and it doesn’t mean what you think it means.) The ‘worst’ display of character is when she attempts to break up Sera and the Inquisitor and even then - are we going to pretend Sera isn’t a toxic, controlling girlfriend with a huge chip on her shoulder? I love Sera, but come on.  

Vivienne is a character where the storytelling rule of Show, Don’t Tell is of vital importance. The Orlesian empire is an empire built around posturing and reputation. Nobody really shows their true motivations or character, and instead builds a public façade. It’s like how the Hanar (the Jellyfish people) in Mass Effect have a Public name they use in day-to-day life, and a Personal Name for their loved-ones and inner circle. Vivienne’s ‘Public Visage’ is that of Madame de Fer - this is the Vivienne who openly relishes in power, publicly humiliates grasping anklebiters with passive-aggressive retorts, the woman who is feared and loathed by all of Orlais, and this is the Face you see for most of the game.

The real beauty of Vivienne’s character and the reason why I love her as much as I do (which is to say - a LOT) are the few moments when - what’s the phrase DigitalSpy love so much - Her Mask Slips, and you get a glimpse of the real woman underneath the hennin.

This is the Vivienne who stands by you during the Siege of Haven and approves of you when you save the villagers from Corypheus’s horde.

This is the Vivienne who comforts you when you lament the losses you suffered.

This is the Vivienne who admires you for setting an example as a mage for the rest of Thedas.

This is the Vivienne who worries about Cole’s well-being during his personal quest, momentarily forgetting who or what he is. 

This is the Vivienne who, when her approval for the Inquisitor reaches rock bottom, desperately reminds him of the suffering mages go through on a day-to-day basis because of the fear and hatred non-mages are bred to feel towards them and how this can spiral into more bloodshed without safeguards. 

This is the Vivienne who shows how deep her affection for Bastien de Ghislain truly is, by bringing you along during his dying moments. I love this scene btw. This is the only moment in the entire game where Vivienne is actually herself in the presence of the Inquisitor - needless to say, I consider anyone who deliberately spikes her potion a motherfucking psychopath ^_^)

“There is nothing here now” fuck I *almost* cried at Vivienne, get out of my head BioWare, this is WRONG -- people who delude themselves this is an irredeemable character. 

So, who is Vivienne really?

Understanding Vivienne requires recognizing that the mask and the real woman aren’t the same person. I think her relationship with Dorian is the prime example of this. I love the Vivienne/Dorian banter train, obviously - an unstoppable force of sass colliding with an unmovable wall of smarm is nothing short of a spectacle. However, there’s more to it than their highly entertaining snipes. As the incredibly gifted son of a magister, Dorian represents everything Vivienne should despise, and should be a natural enemy to her. And yet, she doesn’t and he isn’t.. Their gilded japes at each other are nothing more than verbal sparring, not dissimilar to how Krem and Iron Bull call each other names when they beat each other with sticks. In what I think is one of the most brilliantly written interactions between characters in DAI, I present Vivienne’s reaction when the Inquisitor enters a romance with Dorian:

Vivienne: I received a letter the other day, Dorian. Dorian: Truly? It's nice to know you have friends. 🙄 Vivienne: It was from an acquaintance in Tevinter expressing his shock at the disturbing rumors about your... relationship with the Inquisitor. Dorian: Rumors you were only too happy to verify, I assume. 🙃 Vivienne: I informed him the only disturbing thing in evidence was his penmanship. 🙂 Dorian: ...Oh. Thank you. 😳 Vivienne: I am not so quick to judge, darling. See that you give me no reason to feel otherwise.

Madame de Fer can never be seen directly expressing approval to a relationship between the Herald of Andraste and an ‘Evil’ Tevinter ’Magister’. By this subtle, subtle conversation, Vivienne indirectly tells Dorian that she considers him a good match for the Inquisitor and approves of the romance. It’s one of those reasons why I could never truly dislike Vivienne - between the layers of elegant poison lies a somewhat decent woman who never loses sight of the bigger picture. Not a good person maybe, but not one without some redeeming qualities.

The crux of Vivienne’s personality is that she, like all DAI companions, is a social outcast. She’s a mage in a fantasy setting where mages are psionically linked to demons, and grew up in a country where the majority religion has openly advocated the shunning and leashing of mages (’Magic exists to serve man’ - the Chantry is so, so vile in this game.). Vivienne’s “gift” was discovered so early in her life that she can barely remember her parents. Vivienne grew up in a squalid boarding school, learning from a young age that she’s dangerous and her talents need to be tamed and curbed. She is also terrified of demons, as her banters with Cole point out:

Cole: You're afraid. You don't have to be. Vivienne: My dear Inquisitor, please restrain your pet demon. I do not want it addressing me. Inquisitor: He's not doing any harm, Vivienne. Vivienne: It's a demon, darling. All it can do is harm. Cole: Everything bright, roar of anger as the demon rears. No, I will not fall. No one will control me ever again. Cole: Flash of white as the world comes back. Shaking, hollow, Harrowed, but smiling at templars to show them I'm me. Cole: I am not like that. I can protect you. If Templars come for you, I will kill them. Vivienne: Delightful. 😑

Vivienne’s Harrowing is implied to have been such a traumatizing event to her that she’s developed a pavlovian fear of demons ever since. (Hence her hostility towards Cole.). Vivienne is fully aware of the inherent dangers of magic, and projects this onto all other mages. 

Besides, given how Dragon Age has a history with mages doing all sorts of fucked up shit, ranging from blood magic, murder, demonic possession and actual terrorism (yes, *ElthinaBITCH* had it coming, but let’s not pretend like Anders/Justice was anything other than a terrorist), Vivienne’s policies of controlled monitoring and vigilance are actually significantly more sensible than the options of ‘unconditionally freeing every mage all over Thedas’ and ‘reverting back to the status quo before the rebellion’. They’re flawed policies, obviously. When Vivienne says “mages” she pictures faceless silhouettes foremost and not herself. Regardless, unlike Cassandra and Leliana, Vivienne is aware of the fear others harbour for her kind, and how hard it is to overcome such perceptions.  

Additionally, Vivienne’s a foreigner. She is an ethnic Rivaini, a culture associated with smugglers and pirates (Isabela from DAO and DA2 is half-Rivaini). This adds an additional social stigma, again pointed out by Cole:

Cole: Stepping into the parlor, hem of my gown snagged, no, adjust before I go in, must look perfect. Vivienne: My dear, your pet is speaking again. Do silence it. Cole: Voices inside. Marquis Alphonse. Cole: "I do hope Duke Bastien puts out the lights before he touches her. But then, she must disappear in the dark." Cole: Gown tight between my fingers, cold all over. Unacceptable. Wheels turn, strings pull. Cole: He hurt you. You left a letter, let out a lie so he would do something foolish against the Inquisition. A trap. Vivienne: Inquisitor, as your demon lacks manners, perhaps you could get Solas to train it.

This is the only palpable example of the casual racism Vivienne has to endure on a daily basis - Marquis Alphonse is a stupid, bigoted pillowhead who sucks at The Game, but remember - Vivienne only kills him if the Inquisitor decides to be a butthurt thug. She is aware that for every Alphonse, there are dozens of greasy sycophants who think exactly like he does, and will keep it under wraps just to remain in her good graces. 

Finally, there’s the social position Vivienne manufactured for herself, which is the weak point towards her character imo. Remember, this woman is a commoner by birth. She doesn’t even have a surname. Through apparently sheer dumb luck (or satanic intervention) she basically fell into the position of Personal Mage to the Duke of Ghislain. Regardless, ‘Personal mages’ were the rage in Orlesian nobility, and the prestigious families owned by them like one may own a pet or personal property. By somehow becoming Bastien de Ghislain’s mistress and using his influence, "Madame de Fer” liberated herself from all the social stigmata which should have pinned her down into a lowly courtier rank and turned the largely ceremonial office of “Court Enchanter” into a position of respect and power. This is huge move towards mage emancipation by the way, in a society where, again, Mages are feared and shunned and are constantly bullied, emasculated and taught to hate their talents. Vivienne is a shining example of what mages can become at the height of their power. Power she has, mind you, never actually abused before her Divine election. Vivienne’s actions will forever be under scrutiny not because of who she is, but because of what she is. The Grand Game can spit her out at any moment, which will likely result in her death. 

Inquisitor: “You seem to be enjoying yourself, Vivienne?” Vivienne: “It’s The Game, darling. If I didn’t enjoy it, I’d be dead by now.”

Whether Vivienne was using Bastien for her own gain or whether she truly loved him isn’t a case of or/or. It’s a case of and/and. The perception that she was using Bastien makes Vivienne more fearsome and improves her position in the Grand Game, but deep down, I have no doubts truly loved him. Remember, Vivienne’s position at the Orlesian court was secure. She had nothing to gain by saving Bastien’s life, but she attempted to anyway. That Bastien’s sister is a High Cleric doesn’t matter - Vivienne can be elected Divine regardless of her personal quest’s resolution. She loved him, period. 

No, I don’t think Vivienne is a good person. She treats those she deems beneath her poorly, like Sera, Solas, Cole and Blackwall (characters I like less than Vivienne), which I think is the #1 indicator for a Bad Personality. But I don’t think she qualifies as ‘Evil’ either and I refuse to dismiss the beautiful layering of her character. I genuinely believe Vivienne joined the Inquisition not just for her personal gain, but also out of idealism, similar to Dorian (again, Cole is 100% correct in pointing out the similarities between Dorian’s and Vivienne’s motivations for joining, as discomforting it is to her). 

In her mind, Vivienne sees herself as the only person who can emancipate the mages without bloodshed - her personal accomplishments at the Orlesian court speak for themselves. Vivienne isn’t opposed to mage freedom - she worries for the consequences of radical change, as she believes Orlesian society unprepared for the consequences. Hence why she’s perfectly fine with a Divine Cassandra. Hence why her fellow mages immediately elect her Grand Enchanter of the new Circle. 

Hence why Vivienne is so terrified by the Inquisitor’s actions if her disapproval gets too low. The Inquisitor has the power to completely destroy everything she has built and fought for during her lifetime. Remember: Vivienne’s biggest fear is irrelevance - there’s no greater irrelevance than having your life achievements reverse-engineered by the accidental stumbling of some upstart nobody. This is the real reason why she joins, risks her life and gets her hands dirty - the only person whose competence Vivienne trusts, is Vivienne’s own. 

Even as Divine Victoria, I’d say she’s not bad, at all actually. Vivienne has the trappings of an an Enlightened Despot, maintaining full control, while simultaneously granting mages more responsibility and freedom, slowly laying the foundations to make mages more accepted and less persecuted in southern Thedas. Given that Ferelden is a feudal fiefdom and Orlais is an absolute monarchy, this is a fucking improvement are you kidding me. (Wait did he just imply Vivienne is secretly the best Divine - hmm, probably not because Cass/Leliana have better epilogues - but realistically speaking, yes, Viv should be the best Divine and it’s bullshit that the story disagrees.) 

Underneath the countless layers of smarm, frost and seeming callousness, lies a fiercely intelligent and brave woman, whose ideals have been twisted into perversion by the cruel, ungrateful world around her. Envy her for her ability to control her destiny, but know that envy is what it is.  

The flaw in Vivienne’s character isn’t so much the ‘tyranny’ or the ‘bitchiness’ or the 'smarm’. Her flaw is her false belief that she is what the mages need the most. Her belief that her competence gives her the prerogative to serve the unwashed mage masses... by ruling over them. For all intents and purposes, Vivienne is an Orlesian Magister and this will forever be the brilliant tragedy of her character. She was created by a corrupt institution that should, by all accounts fear and loathe her but instead embraced her. It’s that delirious irony that makes Vivienne de Fer one of the best fictional characters in RPG history.  the next post will be Eurovision-related. :-) 

[wayfarerrye]

Wilbur’s Finale:

I watched the stream live, and have watched multiple POVs of this same event, and also we gained some more lore since then. But here is everything I wrote down while watching Wilbur’s Finale Video

/roleplaying

I am laughing because you basically you realize by about 5 minutes in: A: Wilbur and Techno are the only people fully on the same side and actually trust and know each others general stance (they may not fully know the entire plans of each other but they trust each other and know enough which is more then we can saw about anyone else), and B: Everyone else was fully aware they had two loose cannons that were for blowing up everything, stated multiple times, THE TWO WERE NOT QUIET ABOUT IT AT ALL, and you know full well the rest of them just forgot about that fact some point during the battle. 

Actual conversation they had in Techno’s first secret base with everyone being able to hear them while they geared up:

Techno: we need Manburg to be gone

Wilbur: yeah, gone, gone, completely gone, gone.

Another interesting quote:

Dream: can you tell your guys to stop point guns at me

Wilbur: they aren’t really my men anymore, they are more of a Militia at this point.

Sidenote: 

Did we all just collective miss the fact that Nikki, said “kill him, kill him” after Schlatt insulting Fundy implying wasn’t a man? Like Wow, we do need to give her more credit. Props, also why aren’t we absolutely terrified of her again?

The way everyone breaks when Schlatt dies, is hilarious. Also can we appreciate the Fucking Pettiness in Schlatt’s last words, because man had being petty motherfucker done to an art.

Then when Dream says no traitor, and Wilbur expresses confusion. Making that the 3rd time he said he was the traitor, not accounting for his less subtle ways of saying I am blow this up not matter what. Motherfuckers we all be dense, or at least he had heavy plot armor, and we all caught up in the battle, and win.

The way Wilbur laughs when Tommy says “it was meant to be”, hindsight makes the laugh terrifying. 

or the look on his face when Tommy says, ‘i can’t be the president’. or while Tommy, talks about how there wasn’t a single explosion and how they won and got through this.

Also Wilbur entire speech, is A LARGE RED FLAG, also more evidence that Wilbur and Techno are the only people that full understand each other. “-government is not the way to go, and I agree with you, everything you said, I completely agree with you.”  Refer back to the multiple times in Wilbur’s hearing that Technoblade said he wanted to wipe out Manberg, and destroy the government. 

Everyone breaking RP to support Tubbo’s panic about suddenly having to say a speech. Wholesome.

That zoom in shot when Tubbo said ‘violent activity is the last thing on my agenda’, prefect. 

Wilbur leaving, saying he was leaving, and nobody really pay attention because to them it is over. 

Then he starts monologuing to his chorus/chat. 26:27.Chekhov's gun are his first words:  a dramatic principle that states that every element in a story must be necessary, and irrelevant elements should be removed. Elements should not appear to make "false promises" by never coming into play. 

The way Wilbur lies but doesn’t lie to Phil about where he is. Very much, child just got a phone call from their parent, and their parents first question ‘where are you?’ and you know they know you are in place they said aren’t supposed to be.

Techno kills Tubbo the moment Phil actually logs in. 

Then the dramatic echoing of ‘it was never meant to be’ as Wilbur presses the button, and Tommy is exploded by Techno.

The salute, the absolute manic relief as the explosions go off. Then “My L’Manberg, Phil, My unfinished symphony, forever unfinished, if I can’t have this, no one can”

Then, he begs Phil to kill him, trying to justify it as it was what everyone would want, except we get the POVs of everyone, and everyone is too shocked to care one way or another, and actually seem horrified by Phil killing Wilbur.

And can we note Tommy is the first one to notice Techno and the Withers. 

Then Phil does adds to the confusion in by calling Technoblade, the traitor. 

He isn’t wrong, but Wilbur was the traitor to Dream, but Techno is the Traitor  to Wilbur. 

Both Tommy and Phil say Don’t Do This, and Technoblade doesn’t listen, and places the wither heads.

Wilbur ending with the Anthem. 

Then with Techno’s words, “You are the president of nothing, you country is gone”

Then his own words, “There is no L’manberg won, no Pogtopia won, I won”

Winning is happy memory isn’t?

[whatmack]

so uhm, incubus neil 👉🏻👈🏻

bitch don’t TEMPT me into re-opening that monsters-as-monsters au I have I’ve been staring at it for the past Week  ----

“So like, how does it work? With your whole...thing.” Neil considered the shot glass on the table in front of him. He’d been ignoring Nicky for fifteen minutes, and it was starting to lose its charm. Sooner or later Nicky would get bored, and that meant either that he’d leave Neil alone to find a more reactionary target (good) or he’d start singing off-key pop music until Neil got annoyed enough to talk to him (bad). He chanced a glance over. Nicky’s grin was all-cylinders-firing, dimple flashing in the club lights. It was a smile that said Taylor Swift is never more but a second away.

“I don’t need to feel the attraction to be able to pick up on it,” Neil said, giving in. Nicky drummed his hands on the table in triumph and then leaned closer, gesturing to his oh-so-listening ear. “People aren’t subtle. Especially in places like this.” He nodded towards the dancefloor. The mass of crotch-grinding bodies didn’t react to the insult.  “Doesn’t that get weird, though? It’s gotta suck if you’re not into it. Do people get mad at you?” Neil stared blankly into Nicky’s face. “I eat them. They don’t have a chance to be mad at me.” “Kinky,” Nicky said, waggling his eyebrows. Neil picked up the empty shot glass and shoved the tacky rim against Nicky’s ear. Nicky yelped and jerked back, pawing at the side of his head. “Hey! Ew!” “When are your-- people getting here, anyway?” Neil asked, as Nicky used the excuse of shaking off vodka droplets to flip his hair in the direction of a man in a sparkly crop-top. The man paused, eyeing Nicky with interest, and Neil kicked Nicky under the table to keep him from getting distracted. “Ow! You’re so mean to me!” “You’ll get over it.” “Never,” Nicky promised, clutching his hand to his chest. Neil dodged the return kick. “And they’re not people, they’re cousins. I told you.”

“Must’ve tuned that out,” said Neil. He hopped down from the bar stool, rolling his shoulders. The thin plastic straw from Nicky’s drink bounced off his chest; Nicky had thrown it at him. Neil made a rude gesture over his shoulder as he headed towards the bar, slipping through the spaces between bodies. His skin tingled with the press of all this human, sweat and hair and glossed-up lips; the things they were offering. Touch me. Kiss me. Fuck me. Neil wouldn’t even have to try, to take one in the back alley and eat his fill. Just a smile and the tilt of his head. Maybe not even the smile. He swallowed down the urge to feed and set his palm flat on the bar, gesturing for the bartender with the dollar bill tucked between the fingers of his other hand. Roland shot a grin his way, already reaching for the glasses; he knew Neil’s order. It never changed. Someone jostled Neil from behind. Neil sighed and leaned forward, to get out of the way.  Then he felt the prick of steel. Neil held very still. “Can I help you?” “You must be Neil,” said a voice, right against the nape of Neil’s neck. Neil gritted his teeth against a flinch. He should have heard the person coming; he should have sensed them. Something was wrong. “No,” Neil said, slowly. Deliberately calm, though his heart was racing. “It’s Theopold, actually. Theopold Hornswallow.” “Oh, he thinks he’s funny.” The knife withdrew. Neil twisted around, leaving his cash on the bar, and blinked as he stared into a pair of eyes just barely below his own. Short motherfucker: huh. “If you wanted somethin’, all you had to do was ask,” Neil said, letting his voice drop low. He didn’t care enough to take this man out back-- he just wanted to keep him from stabbing him again.  The man’s forehead pinched. He opened his mouth, but before he could respond Nicky’s voice cut through the crowd, accompioned by flailing arms. “Andrew! Andrew, fucking there you are, you have to meet-- oh you have! Neil, baby,” Nicky said, wrestling past a couple attempting to exchange tonsils, “This is Cousin Number One. Now you know what they both look like: they’re twins. Let me find the other one for you.” He blew a kiss at either Neil or the cousin, or maybe both of them, and disappeared back into the swirling display of hedonism.  “That’s how you knew my name,” Neil said, not taking his eyes off of Andrew. “Why didn’t you lead with that?” Andrew shrugged. He flipped the knife over the back of his hand, stance loosening now that Neil was no longer trying to seduce him. “If you hadn’t been able to deal with it this way, you wouldn’t have been worth it. Hey,” he said over Neil’s shoulder; Roland had appeared with Neil’s drinks. Andrew held up three fingers. Roland pinched his hand like he was picking up a coin, grin unrepentant. Andrew scowled. “You could reach your wallet easier if you put the knife away,” Neil said. “Interesting,” said Andrew, and failed to explain.  (No matter how many times, that night, Neil tried to get it out of him by fluttering his eyelashes.)

[weirdochick56]

Trapped- Campbell Eliot Imagine

Campbell Eliot x Reader

Warnings: Explicit language. Dark!Campbell (obviously)

Disclaimers: This isn’t a light character and this isn’t a light relationship or situation. This is dark and violent so please read with care if abusive situations aren’t your jam!

Word Count: 3,914 words

Summary: Campbell Eliot is your bestfriend’s, Sam, brother. He’s a disturbed individual who doesn’t feel emotions like the rest of you do. His gaze and heart are dark and sadistic and yet- you’re drawn to him. So when he comes looking for Elle and no one gives her up, he offers another aleternative; he’ll take you instead. But he’ll only keep you for a limited amount of time. If by the end of that time you still want to leave him, he’ll let you and Elle go-- definitively. If not, you’re his. Should be easy right?

***

(Gif is not mine!)

You lick your lips, flipping through another page of the book, eyes intensely seeking out every word, soaking every syllable in your head.

This was you third time reading Jane Eyre, but each time it just got better.

You’re so immersed in the fictional world of the young woman, in fact, that you don’t notice when someone comes in until he speaks- voice gruff and bemused.

“Good book?”

You jolt off the couch, heart instantly clenching in shock as your gaze flickers to person which has spoken.

“Campbell,” his names leaves your mouth in a barely-registered, unintentionally breathless mumble.

He grins at you. “Did I scare you, doll?”

You swallow, avoiding eye contact. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Shrugging, he steps closer to you. “As happy as I am to see you, I’m here for Allie and Will. They’ve got something that belongs to me.” He motions loosely around you. “You wouldn’t happen to know where they are would you?”

You shake your head. “And even if I did why the hell do you think I’d tell you?”

He pauses suddenly, face falling and the move is so startling, your heart does too.

He stares you down as he steps closer. You refuse to move or maybe you just can’t- his gaze paralyzing you entirely.

It isn’t until he’s a mere foot away from you, scanning you from head to toe pensively, that he finally speaks.

“You’re too fuckin pretty and smart to be aiming this low, Y/n. Always were.”

You scoff at him. “And according to you what the hell is so low that I’m aiming at?”

“This. This house, these people. You don’t belong here.”

You laugh wryly, shaking your head. “And what the hell would you know about belonging Campbell? All your life, all you’ve done is not fit in. You try- you hang out with the cool kids but even you can’t make yourself believe that you actually feel good with them. That you actually fit in.”

He clenches his jaw, clearly on the verge of snapping, before a small ominous smirk grows on his face. “Yeah. You’re right, dollface. But at least I’m actually going for the people that matter. Allie and her pathetic little crew won’t stay in power of this town for much longer and then you’ll be on the losing side.”

You smirk. “We’ll see about that.”

At the smugness in your face, something suddenly snaps in him and he laughs.

“You’re so fucking lost. I’m willing to show you the way though, Y/n.” He tilts his head mocking, eyes scanning you from head to toe with a malicious glint in those mysterious eyes.

You swallow your fear. “Yeah? And how’s that?”

“If you open those long legs of yours for me, I’d be more than willing, dollface.” He licks his lip mockingly.

You’re sure he doesn’t actually mean it; Campbell is always playing games and this is another one of his sick manipulations to get you riled up.

And it’s working.

You first your hand, raising your arm in a flash, ready to punch the living daylights out of him, but he catches his arm just before your fist connects with his annoyingly sharp jaw.

He yanks your closer to him, clicking his tongue with pretend disapproval. “Now, Y/n, that’s not a very nice thing to do to a guest, is it?”

“Listen, I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but I’m not your fucking toy, Campbell,” you hiss at him, despretely trying to tug your arm from his painfully tight grasp, fighting the panic rising in you at your vital mistake.

No one else was at home and they wouldn’t be for a while. It was just you and him— no one was here to save you if he decided to do something.

Truth be told, he terrified you. But that didn’t mean you’d let him know that. You knew the sick motherfucker got off on that shit, and you weren’t going to become just another helpless victim trapped beneath his sharp claws.

Not you.

At your venomous response, Campbell simply raises a dark brow at you, scanning you from head to toe with decisive carelessness and a cold indifference that made you feel like a minuscule bug beneath his shoe.

That was one of the things with Campbell- he had a way of making people feel like worthless little things. Especially in comparison to him. It was this effect that made you detest him even more than usual. He wasn’t just a jerk, he was manipulative in the worst way possible because he didn’t only manipulate you for his own benefit, but against your own. He made you hate yourself so much you’d have no choice but to comply with him.

And you weren’t immune to it, no matter how much you tried to deny it.

And yeah, sure- physically speaking, Campbell Eliot could more than easily overpower you. No doubt.

He was taller, towering over you like a damn mountain. And he was clearly stronger- the lean muscles that flexed beneath his shirt anytime he took a menacing step toward you were enough evidence.

But somehow you knew it was stripping your mind of its power that he really enjoyed. Being able to trap you in your own fucking body- that’s the real power trip he craved.

He raises his hand, fingertips softly brushing a few strands of hair away from your face as you stubbornly stare him down.

The touch is shocking in its contrast to the death grip he has on your arm and it nearly makes you whimper.

He curls his hand over your jaw, placing his thumb under your chin, fingertips softly brushing against your neck.

You watch him so closely that your heart nearly drops when he suddenly twitches- it’s very small, but seeing as you’re quite literally holding your breath for his next move, you catch it- and it’s as his hand sweeps lightly over your neck...over your throat.

You watch his face closely. His lips part, his breath hitches and his eyes darken even more beneath the dim light of your living room.

He catches himself quickly, though. So quickly in fact, you’re sure if it weren’t for the fact that he were so close and you were so fucking scared of him, you wouldn’t have even noticed.

But you did. And a chill runs up your spine when you think about what he must’ve been thinking in that messed up head of his.

This fear grows when he uses his thumb to force you to look up at him, leaving your jugular totally exposed and vulnerable to those big hands.

“Oh, dollface, but you are,” he responds with sardonic sympathy. “You all are. Now, tell me where they are.”

Your breath hitches when he abruptly digs his fingers into the skin of your arm, sinking his claws into you.

Tears prickle your eyes at the sudden and sharp pain. You try to blink them away and hold back the tiny sobs threatening to exit your slightly dry lips, but a few of both escape anyway and you hate yourself for being so damn weak in front of him.

That is why, to reserve your dignity (or what’s left of it anyway), you don’t dare back down, looking at him dead in the eye and gritting your teeth as you lean in.

You wait for him to expect something of you and then you talk.

“Fuck. You,” you grit out with biting anger.

He smiles in a sickengly smug way, dark eyes practically drinking in the sight of you twisting in pain beneath his touch, of the humiliation embedded deep beneath that fake bravado of yours.

And as much as you hated admitting it, despite it all, there was such beauty in that gaze, such intriguing depth.

God, if it weren’t for the fact that you could see the sadistic joy -far darker than you had initially thought- clearly swimming in them as well, you could’ve confused him for handsome. If for a mere second.

If for a mere second, you could make out a striking resemblance between him and Dorian Gray in the infamous painting- the version before he turned into a monster that is.

His face was structured in that same classical beauty kind of way- high cheekbones, sharp jaw, bold brows, delicate pink lips, and a thick set of long lashes encasing a pair of piercing blue eyes.

But seconds go by and that mere second sure as hell did.

And all it gives way to is the pain you’re currently feeling and the perpetrator behind it. His beauty is dangerous. It’s deceiving to what truly hides beneath it. The ugliness simmering beneath, just waiting for something to snap from within to explode and take with it everything in its path.

He leans into you all of a sudden, making your heart jump all the way to you throat at the abruptness of the movement.

Not go mention; you’re fucking trapped between him and the wall now.

You catch a whiff of his cologne- a subtle but manly scent and the musk of his sweat and it makes your head spin. That along with the bitterness of the situation you’re in, nearly makes you faint with fucking desperation.

A trapped animal. That’s what he was minimizing you to. A fucking animal.

You swallow past the lump in your throat, hard. Licking your dry lips, you anticipate with almost overwhelming anxiety his next move.

His gaze flickers down to your lips as he laughs softly.

The warmth of his breath as it brushes against your face sends another chill down your spine and you can’t quite decipher if it’s because you’re shitting your pants or because he’s abandoned his indifference and is now looking at you like you’re his next prey and he can’t wait to chase you down and devour you.

His thumb softly caresses your chin, fingers moving into your hair. Your lips part at the delicious sensation and despite yourself, you lean into his touch.

“Careful what you go wishing for there, Y/n. Might just come true,” he warns mockingly, his whispers hoarse. His gaze sweeps over you- shameless as ever.

He made you feel invaded in your own body, the way he looked at you. His gaze and the liberties he took with them as he roamed your body and face made you feel like you were mistaken and actually his to look at. Like you were his to undress with his eyes.

It was a strange feeling to have him close after watching him from afar for years. Even as Sam’s best friend, you’d only ever talked to him twice before in the past.

Both were calling him out on treating Sam like trash.

To which he’d only laughed and walked away as if you were but a pesky little thing. After that, you had made it a point to stay away from Campbell. He was intimidating even in his nonchalant disregard.

But now, after what has happened, after almost everyone in your town had disappeared- he was making you question everything you believe in. And he seemed to be targeting you rather than just shake you off.

The fucker.

You suddenly can’t breathe, your heart beating so fast, you feel feel fucking dizzy with all the adrenaline it’s pumping through your veins.

You inhale shakily, trying to keep your fitting in this slippery slope of a situation you’d gotten yourself into.

“Let me fucking go, Campbell. I already told you I don’t know where they are,” you say- tone far too soft to be anything even remotely close to imposing.

He clicks his tongue at you mockingly and when you feel him tangle his fingers into your hair, wrapping the strands around his hand, you know something bad was going to happen.

Suddenly, he yanks your head back. The searing, burning pain coming from your scalp was unexpected and lethal and you cant help but let a loud yelp escape your lips.

“I’ll let you go when I fucking feel like it, you got me? I still don’t think any of you fucking understand, so let me make it crystal clear,” he snarls, forcing you to look him in the eye.

They’re stone cold, emotionless, the only emotion he had -sadistic joy- is gone and in its place there’s only searing, voidful, palpable anger.

“Everyone in this fucking town is scared of me.” He briskly releases you, knocking you back into the wall as he takes a few steps away from you. “And it’s for good reason.”

With a tiny grunt, you glare up at him. “Asshole,” you mutter.

He ignores your petty little insult, scoffing down at you like you’re a worthless piece of shit.

“Even you.”

You scowl. “Well I don’t know about everyone else but I, for one, am not afraid of you, Campbell.”

His lips curl upwards as he stares at you with a bemused look on his infuriatingly attractive face. “Sure you fucking aren’t. You know,” he clicks his tongue. “I always found it strange that even when you and Sam were attached at the hip, you never tried to get even remotely close to me. I mean aside to give me shit about the way I chose to treat Sam.”

He suddenly grows serious, a predatory look instantly growing on his face. Then he clenches his fists so tight, his knuckles turn paper white.

“Oh, the things I could do to you,” he mumbles, eyes zeroing in on your chest and then your neck. He drags his tongue over his thin upper lip, eyes flickering back up to you.

If that asshole knew how bothered his eyes on you made you feel, he ignored it. Or perhaps he enjoyed watching you squirm. Probably the latter.

They’re so dark now, that under this lighting- they almost look black. Far from his natural pools of blue and strikingly menacing.

His silver earring glimmers dangerously under the light and then you catch a glimpse of something else in his hand as he holds it up to the light.

Your blood runs cold when you realize it’s a blade.

He casually plays around with it, twirling around his hand with ease.

“You wouldn’t just be afraid...” he closes his eyes for a second, as if imagining it in his mind. A sick, perverted smirk instantly curls his lips and his cold gaze pins yours down once more when he releases a tiny hum.

“You’d be begging me to hurt you some more. Hell you’d get on your fucking knees and ask me to like the nice little girl you make everyone think you are.”

Your chest rises but doesn’t fall as you hold your breath. You’re trembling at this point, but you hope to god he doesn’t fucking notice.

“You’re sick,” you whisper roughly, eyeing him cautiously.

He shrugs nonchalantly, fingers running the knife some fucking idiot had left lying around.

“Maybe. But at least I’m not weak.” He looks at you pointedly. “At least I know how to take care of the things that belong to me.”

You huff, swallowing down your fear and letting your mouth run. “See, that’s the fucking problem with you Campbell. You think you’re entitled to owning people. But I’m not going to let you manipulate me.”

He raises a brow. “Oh, trust me, Y/n. Right now, with you- this is as real as I get. If I was manipulating you, you wouldn’t know it.”

Despite how much his words chill you to the bone, and your strangely strong urge to ask a whole bunch of questions, you merely chuckle sarcastically at him, putting on a brave face.

“Fortunately, that’s never going to happen.” You smile before quickly letting it drop. “Now if you’re done, get the fuck out.”

He sighs with fake defeat, putting the knife down casually.

“Fine. I’ll go.” You don’t budge, refusing to drop your guard at his words.

He smiles and even though you know that it’s not real- for a split-second you forget who he is because of how damn charming it is.

“Tell your friends I was here, will you doll?”

You almost let out a sigh of relief when he spins on his heels and begins to walk away but that gets trapped in your windpipe when suddenly pauses near the doorway, glancing at you over his shoulder.

“You know, it’s a shame.”

“What is?” You snap.

“That we hadn’t talked like this earlier.” He grins darkly. “I actually kinda enjoyed this little convo of ours.”

And with that he walks out, slamming the door shut.

Once you’re sure he’s gone, you release a huge breath, falling against the wall.

Your arm was throbbing aggressively and so was your scalp, your chest aches with pent-up anxiety.

And yet....

And yet all you can really think about is those eyes. That smirk.

The darkness inside of him wasn’t entirely empty, you conclude the more you thought about the genuine joy he had as he saw you in pain.

It was fucked up for obvious reasons, but you couldn’t help but think that what he held in that gaze was far more than that emotionless exterior he showed everyone. It was darkness nonetheless, but it wasn’t entirely devoid of all emotion.

Everyone said he didn’t feel like the rest of you did. But he felt something didn’t he?

There was something almost mesmerizing about figuring out what he was thinking. What he was feeling. About what made him tick.

It was crazy, but he’d always seemed like a sad person to you. Even underneath all that hard skin he’d built over the years, underneath that emotionless existence he’d been living, he seemed sad.

He scared you so much, it was practically impossible for you to comprehend why he also intrigued you just as much- if not more.

His darkness was as terrifying and unpredictable as it was alluring to you.

You sigh a little, glancing the already-forming bruises marring the skin of your arm. They were dark imprints of where he’d sunk his fingers into you.

You shiver just thinking about his hands on your skin.

You can never forget how dangerous he is.

Because if you do, you could find yourself trapped under his claws.

*

You tug on your long-sleeve subconciously, looking at Allie with furrowed brows.

“He said he was looking for you guys.”

Will shares a look with the blonde girl before looking back at you. “Did he specify why?”

You shrug. “No. Just said he needed to talk with you because you had something that belonged to him.”

Pursing her lips, Allie sighs. “We’re sorry for leaving you alone, Y/n. We should’ve had someone from the guard here. But he didn’t like-” she hesitates, watching you closely. “He didn’t hurt you or anything, did he?”

You look down, tugging even more at the sleeves and shake your head. “No.”

Allie had enough on her plate as is, you didn’t want to add another thing to it and be a bother.

She nods and sends you a look, fairly enough not looking convinced at all by your meek firmness.

“Well-” just as she begins to speak, a loud knock at the door abruptly cuts her off.

All three of you share a look this time, and you swallow harshly, heart racing. “Campbell?” you mumble with dread.

Allie motions to Grizz to check who it is. He nods, prying the front door open only slightly.

“What do you want Campbell?” He spits.

The small, indifferent, mocking, cold laugh he gives as a response floats in from the other side of the door and sends a shiver down your spine.  

“I need to talk to Allie,” he says simply.

Grizz goes to protest coldly, but Allie shakes her head at him, motioning for Campbell to come in. Grizz clenches his jaw, but complies, stepping aside for him to step in.

Campbell smirks sumgly, leering down at Grizz -who looks just about ready to explode- as he passes by him.

Then his gaze shifts to you as you stare at him and he grins brightly. You instantly look away, scrutinizing your hands.

Your spine goes rod straight as his footsteps near the kitchen, where you currently sat on a stool by the counter.

“What the hell do you want Campbell?” Allie raises a brow at him.

He slightly glances at you before smirking up at her.

“Elle. Where is she?”

Allie shakes her head. “She’s not your property Campbell. And you can’t just barge in here like that.”

His smirk drops and he glowers at her. “Give her to me or I swear to God-”

“Or what?” Will interrupts. “What will you do?”

Campbell refuses to back down. “Or I will come over to your house every fucking night and make your life miserable until you do.”

Allie heaves a heavy sigh. “Campbell-”

“Unless...” he softly sing-songs.

Everyone pauses, staring at him.

And when his gaze gently glides over to you, you know what he wants before he even says it.

“Unless?” Will murmurs.

Campbell bites his lip delightfully, gaze never leaving you. “Unless you give me her instead.”

All at once, everyone around you protests.

“What are you crazy?!”

Campbell shrugs, mumbling beneath his breath . “A little.”

The outrage continues. “No fucking way we’re doing that.”

“Listen,” Campbell shushes them. “The way I see it is; this town is fucking sick and tired of you Allie. So I really doubt they’ll have a problem helping me make all your lives a living hell. Now, I can take Elle and keep her because she’s mine. Or I can take sweet little Y/n here and return her after I’m done with her. That is; if she even wants to come back after I’m done with her.”

None of them even consider his offer. They start protesting again against him.

You just sit there, staring off blankly. And when you finally speak up. moments later, everyone falls silent.

“I’ll go with you,” you whisper.

“W-what?” Allies sputters. “Y/n, no.”

You look at her. “Allie, this is my choice, okay?”

She purses her lips in a silent reprimand.

Campbell snorts at your words as you look up at him. “But you have to give me back after a month.”

“Two.”

“One and a half.”

“Deal.” He smirks with satisfaction.

He looks at Allie pointedly. “Deal?”

The blonde glances at Will, Grizz and finally you. It’s clear she hates this; they all do.

You take a deep breath, getting off the stool. You walk towards her, taking her hands in yours.

“Allie please,” you murmur. “Elle has been beaten down enough by him. He’s broken her.”

“And that’s exactly why I won’t let him take you too,” she insists freverently, squeezing your palms tightly.  

You deadpan, lowering your voice to a whisper only you two can hear. “Allie, Elle is a badass, but I’m stronger than her, we both know it. I’ve known Campbell my whole life, I know his startegies. I know I can hold out for a month and half. I know that I’ll come back to you and he won’t be running a damn campaign agaisnt you then. It’s a win-win.”  

“But-”

“This town needs you, Allie. Even if they don’t see it now. Don’t let us down.” You smile reassuringly for her sake more than yours. “I need you to trust me on this.”

She blinks back tears, nodding lightly.

You nod at her, fighting back your own tears and you step away. You turn to Campbell; your fucking nightmare incarnate.

“Let’s go,” you say softly.

What the hell have you gotten yourself into?

***

Why is there such a shortage of fics on Campbell? He’s such an interesting character and let’s be honest; fine as hell. 

(with that earing bruh?)

I definitely have a thing for hot psychos and it concerns me a lil bit.

A special thanks to:

My forevers

@jessikared97​

@ladyofletters67​

@sammykb1994​

@lilypalmer1987​​

@mogaruke​​

[leeknow-bestboy]

If You Close One Eye - Chapter One

Ships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Bang Chan/Yang Jeongin | I.N, If you really squint you can notice Lix is into Binnie, Hyunjin was into everyone once

Characters: All the kids, The ex kid isn't here I edited him out, Other Character Tags to Be Added

Trigger warnings: panic attack, ptsd, original character death, homophobia, original character cheating, descriptive imagery.

Word count: 5277

Chapter: 1/?

Next chapter 

Tags: Murder Mystery, amateur detective minho, Soulmates, not your typical soulmate AU, Alternate Universe - College/University, Slow Burn, Slow Build, good things take time let it slowburn, minho is singlehandedly responsible for the slow burn so blame him, no soulmates in this universe only they are, criminology student minho, art student jisung, POV Third Person, chan deserves better and he does indeed get better don't worry, art references please look stuff up, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, best sibling bond ever.

"If you close one eye, you can see what your soulmate sees"

Born with one eye an unnatural golden color, Minho and Jisung have been forced to cover them up with colored lenses in order to blend into society.

The magic to their eyes? Even they still didn't know.

This is the story of how criminology major and dance minor Lee Minho found himself hopelessly in love with the serial killer, local artist Han.

[Alternatively, let's see how long I can make these two dumbasses pine without one of them snapping. Edit: they finally did]

[Also WARNING: a HUGE amount of Jeongchan ahead, it's not subtle at all! So much fluff--]

As per usual, the playground was packed; children of all ages ran wild, squalling and laughing like the little menaces they were- all of them avoiding a short kid who couldn't be older than five, seated at the very end of the sandbox and holding back tears of offense and loneliness.

It's not that he got bullied, he wasn't. His mom raised a tough kid who'd bite back when he's bit, but no one would play with him now. Not with how he looks, they'd rather scream and run.

Five year olds shouldn't worry about that.

Rubbing his left eye- the good one, he could see a woman's shoulder and hair. Her smile, bright and comforting, wording out a song with no sound.

"Jisung!" His mother's voice rang aloud, recognizable and warm in the hostile environment.

"Baby," She called again, finding him and wrapping her son in her arms. For the moment, there was no strange woman- only his own mother.

Jisung sniffled. "I hate people." -These words that shouldn't be said by a child flowed so easily from his lips, as if it was the only reasonable conclusion.

"We need to talk about something" his mother's voice, once excited and lively sounded utterly defeated. Little did he know, it was the last time. Years of telling him he's perfect just the way he is, special and unique in a good way, definitely- have ended up making no difference in the end.

That day, he learned to put on contact lenses.

.

"I know you're upset about the divorce, but you have to accept that it happened."

The woman's voice, high pitched and unpleasant, drove Minho ever so slightly closer to the edge. By now he knew no adult in the world would ever take him seriously, so what was the point in sitting here and listening to her talk?

The woman pursed her lips, plump and telling of the many times they went under the scalpel. Tapping her foot, she hazily reminded Minho of his own mother when scolding was due.

"If you don't talk to me, that's fine. Nothing's going to change. I get paid by the hour you know, I can do this all day."

That being said, she was probably stressed- no therapist had ever gotten Minho to talk, he's been changing doctors since his hallucinations began, which adds to a little over three years now.

"Minho, I can't help you like this. Tell your mother I give up."

A sense of dread spread over the eight years old. Again, another adult doesn't get it. Another one giving up on him, leaving, and suddenly he wanted her to stay. Pretty badly he did, at the time.

"I don't care that my parents broke up, I've been seeing monsters all day"

The woman blinked, stunned into silence. At the tinge of tears he rubbed his right eye- and there it was, certain as ever; drawn with a sharpie, people with horns. In a moment, a pair of hands that weren't his took the drawing away and pulled out a new one, drawing harshly a sad smiley face.

Although he was a big boy, he cried right then, scared out of his mind and very confused. He cried so hard it almost slipped off- the contact lens hiding his mother's disgrace.

Looking up, the woman made no effort to comfort or dissolve his fright. Rather, she was scribbling down the whole ordeal. Taking notes, furiously assessing and picking him apart, she finished her analysis smugly and said,

"It's time we get you a prescription, my dear"

And that was definitely not the last of it.

.

"Oppa"

Minho groaned lowly, alerting the speaker to the fact he's been woken from sleep.

"Minho oppa!" the voice persisted. Fully intent on hanging up, Minho side glanced at the caller id to make sure it wasn't important.

"Motherfucker!" the voice on the other end rose. From the corner of the bed Doongie meowed, alarmed.

"Freaking shrimp, what do you think you're calling your oppa?" He blurted. This isn't a call he should skip.

"Egg laying bastard! Answer me when I call you!" His sister's comforting voice trickled out.

"Gremlin twarp!"

"ballerina!"

"Whiny child!"

"Prune old man!"

"spoiled princess!"

"Mean hoe!"

"-!" Wheeze.

"I got you, you horrible gay bitch"

"We're both gay, Ryu" He threw back.

It's been a while since she last called.

"Well, you live alone, so I assume you're doing much gayer things than I can do at home."

Minho started, failing to hold back his horrified gasp. "Ryujin, you're eighteen!" He exclaimed. It seemed like yesterday she was still following him around, like some baby duckling.

"She's being mean Doongie, like you three don't count." He added, Ryujin electing to ignore his comment.

"How's dance going?" her tone changed, turning softer. For all their differences, dance for sure has always been something both loved and loved together. From copying idols on TV, to taking ballet and hiphop together, Jazz too.

"I'm not in college for dance and you know it" He groaned, immediately softening as well.

"I miss it a lot. I wish I could do more than minor in it.." On the other side of the call Ryujin hummed, understanding. She has always known his passion best.

"You're good at what you do too. You'd make a kickass detective." She claimed.

"I'm not taking criminology to be a detective." Why she had to be reminded was beyond him. If anything he aimed to be an officer, someone to tell kids off if they mess with the neighborhood cats.

"I'm just saying you could be!" She defended- which wasn't wrong, if he played job openings right. He did have a knack for picking apart mystery books too, but that was nothing out of the usual.

"How's grad life?" He asked with genuine interest. Nothing could ever matter to him more.

"I asked Chelle out, finally." She said, and Minho couldn't help but notice the edge evident in her voice.

"What happened? Did she let you down? Should I come over?" The questions left his lips before he could consider them, worry clouding over him.

"No, it's nothing like that. She said yes, but.. Yeah, oppa, I really wish you were here. I need to talk to you, face to face. Mom misses you too." She ended lamely. It was so unlike her, Minho couldn't find it in him to correct the fact that it was only Ryu's mom and not his.

"Tell her I'll be visiting tonight then, I'll go get ready." He said, fully intent on making the sudden drive over. It was only a two hour ride over to his father's, where Ryujin and his step mother lived too. If he headed out now, he could make it before dinner.

"Really? You don't have to, I know you hate it here-" Her attempts of taking it back wouldn't work once he set his mind to do something.

"Really really. I miss my stinky troll sister too," He insisted. No way was he leaving her be. The moment something felt off with her, he knew he had to go make sure she's fine; there aren't many things as precious in his life as she is.

"Dumbass," she relented, voice worryingly relieved. "I'll go tell mom."

He smiled, tapping his nail on the headboard, now sitting up at his bed. "Bye"

She huffed, pausing for a moment before giving her last reply. "Goodbye, oppa. I love you."

.

Minho sighed, leaning his forehead against the steering wheel.

For what little time he spent at his father's place, a surprising amount of bad memories were made. Up until his teen years he wouldn't even enter, and every time after that made for a rich history; first panic attack, first time breaking a leg falling down the stairs, coming out, taking Ryu to junior prom- door shut in his face that time, claiming she was grounded for beating up the neighbor's son. First time stung by a bee, and that weekend when his father's doberman puppy bit him in play, tore open his front lip and got sent to a dog pound despite his protest.

'Come on,' he thought. 'You can do this. Count to three-' and at three he did, opened his car door and walked up through the front gate.

"Minho! How lovely to see you." Smiled his step mom, a warm, if not a tad unnerving woman.

"Nice to so see you too. How have you been?" He asked, clean-cut manners kicking in. Dal and Byul had meanwhile made their way running over to the door, immediately rubbing against him with some level of desperation. He leaned down, rubbing Dal's small head.

"I've been well, your father too- that's right! Honey, come say hi to Minho." The short, lean woman called, still blocking the entrance to the oversized house and keeping Minho at the door. Whether this was on purpose shall forever remain a mystery- she did it every time.

"That brat has nothing to do in this house" His father's voice warmed over.

"Hi dad." He tried still, calling over the woman's shoulder. "Can I come in?"

Said obstacle smiled, moving aside at last. "Of course sweetie, Ryujin will be right over."

Taking that exchange for what it was, he made fast pace towards the kitchen. Avoiding his father has become a praised skill by now, a crucial one by all means.

"Dallie, Byulie, psps" he tried, pleased when both ran on over towards his outstretched hand. Two more allies at the ready.

Light steps cleared the remaining discomfort sullying his mood in short moments. "You!" A pair of arms tightened around his shoulders, prompting Minho to lift his little sister in a piggyback.

"You too!" He answered, relieved at feeling welcomed at last.

"I can't believe you actually came. Did you tell your mother you're over?" She asked, tactless as ever. He loves her a whole lot for that, too.

"She's not the boss of me, I'm twenty one" He announced, eyes closed in a content smile as his sister gently pet his hair like a cat.

"What about me? I'm almost nineteen, I wish I was free like you, Lino!" Exclaimed Ryujin, but really she didn't. There was a certain freedom gained from nobody caring about you that no one should be jealous of.

Letting her hop back onto the ground, Minho kept the smile on his face. She seemed fine, but he could tell better. Still, they couldn't talk before dinner- the pots and pans at the stovetop smelled just about ready, after all.

Instead he turned to face her, petting her head lovingly like she had his. "What's this? This tiny Ryuddaeng's nineteen? No way."

"Almost!" she growled. "Next month I'll be."

"Where have the times gone?" he questioned, shoving her playfully at the comments of "old man".

.

Dinner went as uncomfortably as expected, his father and he had behaved remarkably well- hadn't spoken a word to each other throughout. Minho ate neatly, made sure to compliment his step mother for every dish, and Ryujin helped by washing them after. All in all, it was successful unlike many dinners before.

Making way to the guest bedroom, Minho paused at the sight of his sister's door left slightly open. Right, yes- this would be a good time.

Knocking quietly, he waited for permission before entering and closing the door, waiting for Byul to enter alongside him. "Are you alright?"

Ryujin nodded, glancing up at him and back to the floor. He took that as a sign to take a seat down on her fancy dragon themed carpet.

"Are you really alright? Ryujin, I know we're not great communicators, but I'm still very worried. Is it dad?" At that his sister shook her head, taking a deep breath.

"Don't get mad, but I have a huge favor. You know Chelle, I swore I'll ask her out when I graduate and I did, but she…" Minho crossed and uncrossed his legs, chin finding its place resting on a knee. Byul purred, rubbing against it.

"She's missing. She's been missing for two weeks now, no one knows where she is." She explained, voice stern.

"I don't think she ran away, but her parents keep saying she did. She said nothing to me." She added, hoping he'd fill in the rest on his own.

"They're not filling in for missing person?" He asked, worry making his back stress and ace.

Ryujin nodded. "I know she's the bad girl type, but she wasn't into drugs and her friends seem fine. I keep trying to ask around but I can't, what if something serious happened?"

Minho nodded, realizing where he comes in. "You want me to investigate? See where that takes us?" He asked. For sure, that should be the police's job- but with her parents saying she ran away, would they even bother?

Ryujin kept quiet, eyes burning holes into Minho's. This was her crush, a big one- he's never liked Chelle, but now? If Ryujin cares that much… sure. It's not something he should be messing with legally, and a new project to be added atop his ever growing college work, but he'd do it for her. "Okay."

"Okay?" Ryujin asked back, relieved.

"Yes. I'll do it." He assured.

Ryujin's features softened farther, mouth breaking into a smile. "You're my new favorite person."

Minho smiled lightly, mind running full speed. "I need details. When and where she was last seen, and about her; exes, Instagram, friends and hangouts."

Ryujin's smile faded. Nonetheless she turned, pulling a notebook out of her bedside drawer.

Scribbling away the details he requested, she paused to ask a couple questions before turning back to her chore. "I know less than I thought." She admitted.

"That's fine, but I have a few more. How was her mental state, where did she study, was she on meds and did she mention any places?"

This kept on for a few hours, ending after they let an annoyed Byul out of the room - with Ryujin tiredly announcing that her brain is fried and he can ask the rest over chat when he's back in college. On his end, Minho learned one important thing:

This girl was not who she seemed to be.

.

Back at his apartment, Minho re-read all eleven papers of info they've gathered. On the way he's prepared a list of places to visit, only two of which stemmed from the info Ryujin herself had given him. Other than the school and family bistro down the street, it seemed the two have never gone out together, although Chelle was one to do so.

Good, he thought.

Scrolling through her Instagram, he noted which followers seemed to comment more, and who would show most often on highlights. Her latest post have been boring- it was landscape art of what he assumed to be a tall grass field on the outskirts of seoul. Around three months back he found a picture of some guy at the beach, shirt off and abs in clear view. Seeing as he looked nothing like Chelle, it would seem they weren't related.

Sorting through the packed comment section, someone's request to take it down stood out. Tapping on the person's icon, he realized that was probably the guy in the picture, although the account was made private. An ex? That would make a good trail.

Not having an account himself, by now Minho has used Ryujin's, but to follow guys it would seem he needs his own account.

Setting up all the necessities, he took a nice picture of Dori and made it his profile, sending the guy a follow request right away.

Now we wait.

.

"Oppa, if you have no photos or description and no followers, and he doesn't know you, did you really expect he'd approve your request?" Ryujin's laughter trickled through the speakers, as if it's been obvious. "You're going to have to find him." She pointed, before hesitantly adding, "Or I can-"

"No." Minho said, stern. "This guy could be Chelle's ex, he might be really dangerous! You don't get to follow his Instagram."

Ryujin sighed, and Minho got the sudden mental image of her rubbing the bridge of her nose as she did. "You have friends right? Ask one of them." She advised.

"I need to go, dad said I can't go out unless I finish these applications." She explained, hanging up after a round of goodbyes.

Right. He did! He has friends.

Picking his phone back up, Minho scrolled his contacts looking for either Felix or Hyunjin. The two weren't in his major, but they shared a dance class. Out of the student body, they were closest to his definition of friends.

A couple rings went by before the line picked up. "Hyung? Hello!" Felix's cheerful voice calmed the older's nerves ever so slightly.

"Felix, hi." He answered, trying to seem casual. "How are you?"

Felix took a moment before responding. "I'm great! I'm actually out with Chan hyung, is something up?"

"Who?" Minho asked, confused.

Felix took another moment. "Bang Chan. He's a fourth year in sociology, I don't think you'll know him."

Minho came close to a sob right then. "Can you pass him the phone?"

"Yeah sure." Felix agreed immediately, followed by ruttling sounds.

"Hello?" A voice sounded, accent similar to Felix's own.

"Hi! My name is Minho, I followed you on Instagram a couple days ago."

A short silence. "Oh my god." Chan exclaimed.

"No, never mind that, I need to talk to you." He rephrased.

"I have no idea who you are." Chan replied, confused.

"It's about Chelle." Minho added, hoping to learn anything from the other's reply.

"Oh." Was all he got. "Okay, I guess we should meet sometime then. How is she?"

The question caught Minho off guard.

"I, I'll tell you more when we meet. When are you free?" he asked, quickly seeking out a pen and scribbling the time and date on his wrist, phone squeezed between his ear and shoulder.

"Yeah, sounds great! See you then." He concluded, getting passed back to Felix and thanking him profoundly before hanging up.

"In my own college." He muttered after the phone found its place back on the table.

"Unbelievable."

.

Not many people occupied the café, despite its convenient location not far off the olympic park. For that reason Minho concluded, the coffee there probably sucked.

It wasn't his intention to show fifteen minutes early, but his nerves got the best of him, taking shape in miserable pacing until he deemed it late enough to leave his apartment already. Worst case scenarios running through his mind, he wasn't expecting it as someone took seat in the chair opposite of his.

"Hello. It's Minho, right?" Asked the stranger, dimples forming in an awkward smile.

"Ah." Minho voiced dumbly before quickly picking himself up adding,

"You're Chan?"

In the short time that passed between first learning of Chan's existence and actually seeing him, Minho's mind managed to fill with expectations and fears, all of which shattered right in that moment.

First of all, the guy in the picture had very defined abs and arm muscles, making it seem as if he'd be your average muscle-head, someone who could pull apart limbs off boys like Minho- a description that apparently had nothing in common with the hesitant and awkward person in front of him. Rather, he found that this Chan was a tad shorter than him, barely filling the light gray sweater he threw on.

Secondly, while the photo showed a man with straight dark brown hair, the man in front of him had soft blond curls that seemed so, so fluffy- invoking a primal urge to pet them in, Minho assumed, not only himself, but also every innocent bystander.

Lastly, by the amount of english in his Instagram description, one would expect an obvious accent, but that had been proven false on the phone call anyway. Regardless, Minho imagined a foreigner, so seeing his face up close had been a surprise on its own, especially considering the smile… he was, how would he put it? Cute.

"Yeah! Nice to meet you. I was worrying I'd be early, but it's good to see you are too." Minho could only half process the words, a glance at his phone telling him they both still had around ten minutes before the planned meetup time.

"Right! Right, I wanted to talk to you." Minho started, forcibly clearing his mind of any strange thoughts.

"You said it was about Chelle? I assume you're her new boyfriend?" Chan asked, voice a bit strained.

"No, It's not like that. I wanted to know if you've heard from her for the last couple weeks." Minho replied, quick to correct him so to not make things needlessly awkward. Right, he thought- Chan still might have had something to do with this girl's disappearance.

"Oh, well, I actually hadn't, I try not to do that anymore. We didn't end things on good terms." Chan confessed, picking Minho's interest.

"What happened?" He asked, worries picking back up.

Chan paused. "Are you her friend? This kind of thing is a little personal, I don't want it to affect your friendship."

Minho blinked, thinking up a smaller scale storm. "I live in her neighborhood. We're not very close, but some things happened that made me look for you."

Chan hesitated, saved by the waiter's interruption asking which drinks the two would have. Still suspicious, Minho only ordered a small iced americano, Chan matching with a small iced tea.

"You probably know we dated for around two months, it ended after I found she was cheating for a long time."

Minho's breath hitched, dangerously close to choking on his coffee. "She cheated on you?"

Chan's expression fluttered before he nodded, sheepish smile back on. "Kind of pathetic, isn't it? I couldn't hold her attention. At least, the others didn't know."

Minho gaped, unsure how to handle the new information. Chelle, the girl Ryujin asked him to look for. Was that her true nature? "What do you mean others?"

Chan's embarrassment grew, yet he didn't look away. "We were around.. five, I think.. that I know of. I followed her for a bit."

The awkwardness settled, leaving both speechless.

"Okay, I'm really sorry but I still need to ask you a couple more things." Minho was the first to break the silence.

"Go ahead." Chan smiled in relief.

"Were you mad? Wait, no- Can you think of anyone who could have held a grudge against her? More than, I guess, this."

Chan shook his head. "She's a really nice girl! She has some serious issues, but I liked her a lot at the time."

Minho bit his lip, ready to push on. "Chan, I'm going to be honest with you.. Chelle's been missing for over two weeks now."

If Chan was drinking at the moment, it would have been his turn to choke. "What?" he asked, voice steady.

"I got in touch with you because right now, nobody knows where she is. Or someone does know, but I don't" Minho explained, hoping his message went through alright.

"Are you sure she's not ghosting you? She might be." Chan offered. Minho stiffened. If Chelle was fine, if she was ghosting his sister- there will be hell to pay.

"I don't think so?" he continued anyway.

"I can't remember a specific person who would want to hurt her, but.. God, I'm worried. Chelle's gone? Like, kidnapped or.." Chan paused, taking deep breaths.

"If you have any information on where she could be, it would help a lot. I don't know her well, I'm not sure who else to ask either." Minho added.

"What do you want to know?" Chan asked, worry clouding his face in an unpleasant way. Minho almost felt, scratch that- he did feel really bad for the guy.

"Hangouts, friends, habits, names of other exes- mental state too, it's a little invasive but I can't find her otherwise." Chan stared, eye contact with Minho intensifying as neither averted their gaze.

"Okay." Chan replied after a while. "I don't really know you, but I guess it suits her. If anything happened, I wouldn't expect an officer anyway."

Slightly disturbed, Minho pulled his notes from his bag, offering Chan a big sheet of paper. Just like that, the two had begun- Just as Minho had with Ryujin before.

"I can't help with other Exes, I don't know any of their names. I do know where she hangs out usually." Chan supplied helpfully.

"Chelle, she's very into art. She thinks her art, only hers, is the best of the best. She considers herself an undiscovered gem, that kind of mentality. She'll do anything for exposure, and she likes compliments a lot." Chan bit his lip, pausing in his writing.

"She's not on good terms with her parents, and sometimes I remember, she said she wanted to run away. She has horrible mood swings, but when she's happy she can be the sweetest, most considerate person in the world. I think she had too much love in her, that's why…" Chan trailed off, sighing before shaking his head and writing down some more details.

"I'm not okay with that, you know? It's the worst kind of betrayal, but I'm still so worried. I never wanted anything to happen to her, I don't wish that for anyone." Minho hummed, recalling back on his previous suspicion, how ridiculous it seemed now to think that of this person.

So it went on, the two of them coming up with important details and question marks to jot down. Before they knew it the sky turned dark, an impatient barista politely asking them to leave.

"You have my number, right?" Chan asked.

"I don't." Minho replied, glad Chan remembered. The two exchanged phones, filling in their details with some hesitation.

"Call me if you need anything, or if you find her." Chan added, eyes glinting under the streetlights.

"You too, call me if you remember anything important." Minho replied, parting with a wave goodbye and heading towards the bus station.

It was only on his way back that he recalled their first exchange through the phone, and how stupid it had been to expect anything else from a friend of Felix's, of all people.

Groaning lowly, Minho moved his bag up, staring at the paper pile stuffed inside it neatly. Ahead was, he expected, a night full of reading- all 38 new pages of details about this girl, who he found himself liking less and less with every passing statement.

.

Over an extended time period Minho had found himself visiting many different places to no avail. He tried asking around, dropping Chelle's name here and there for good measures, but it seemed that the girl had vanished into thin air. Her only legacy had been the outrageous rumors surrounding her name, such as dating kids much younger than herself and having sex to get her way in the art world. Really, Minho should have stopped there- he wanted nothing to do with this girl anymore, was happy even; happy that she didn't get to lay her hands on his sister. Yet he couldn't stop thinking, this girl.. She was missing, it was real, and not one soul other than him have made a single attempt to locate her. How could he give up now?

It had been a long day- visiting a bar from the list in the morning before moving to a café nearby and finishing one of his assignments, Minho decided to follow up on Chelle's tracks. Twelve days have passed since his meeting with Chan, and although his anxiety kept getting worse, the list of things to check kept getting shorter with every lead he crossed out.

This one had honestly been a lame lead, but he wanted to make the most out of it- a short trip out of seoul, to a grass patch stretching a couple miles that was similar to the one he saw on her Instagram. If he couldn't find her with anyone's help, he thought- maybe he should try to think like her more. This girl, where would she go? Who would she meet? What would she do? And for that this practice was important, too.

The land stretched, tall grass for as far as the eye could see. He roamed around, looking at the tall buildings that made his home from afar. From here, definitely- he recognized the scenery as the one she drew that time. Stepping back through the grass, it didn't make much of a difference from how far he's already been, but the moment felt special somehow.

Minho breathed in, a strong breeze blowing from the front and carrying the dust and pollution of the city with it. Bad air, even this far back. At least it was silent, no cars, no birds either- it felt peaceful. Minho stepped back again, pulling out his phone, intending to take a photo. A couple more steps back, and he tripped- landing on his butt in the grass.

It was there that he found her.

.

Jisung stretched, back aching after sleeping in so late.

"Good morning, and good luck falling back asleep at a normal hour." Seungmin commented. True that, Jisung managed to mess his sleep schedule pretty badly. Good thing it was friday.

Standing up, he considered responding before giving up and making his way to the kitchen.

"Ji," Seungmin spoke up once more,

"At least brush your teeth. I'm your roommate, not your mom- I shouldn't have to tell you this!" His voice, although annoyed, remained calm. He did have a point.

"Okay mom." Jisung replied, deadpan. Without another word he turned, entering the bathroom and picking up his toothbrush to do as instructed.

Life as an art major was hard- he had so much work to do in little time, and the pressure made it feel a little like a job. Nowadays his minor in music made for the only stress reliever he could put time into without guilt, and he wondered if maybe he should have chosen it for major instead. Useless thinking about it now, anyway.

Jisung went on brushing, releasing a small whine at the thought of his next assignment. Whatever- he rolled his eyes, raising a hand to rub the remains of sleep away.

Tall grass, the clear view of seoul from afar- blurring, moving, fast as if he was struck by lightning.

The toothbrush clinked loudly against the sink as it dropped, leaving Jisung with the reflection of himself in the mirror, left hand raised. He made quick way, spitting the paste and powerwalking back to their room, brushing against Seungmin on his way there.

"Jisung? Jisung, you can't just leave this here." Seungmin bristled, pausing at the sight of Jisung pulling out his sketchbook with the craze of someone going through a revelation.

He sighed, recognizing the scene in front of him. "Inspiration struck?"

Jisung hummed, wiping his mouth and beginning to sketch. This happened every once in a while, it was one of the things that made Jisung… well, Jisung.

"I'll clean up. Should I order takeout?" Seungmin asked, affection sneaking into his voice. He's a bit weird, but sometimes he was cute too.

"Thank you, please." Jisung replied absentmindedly, focused on the paper.

"I will. Okay." Seungmin concluded, fishing his phone out to call his favorite fast food handler.

To them, after all, it was nothing more than an average friday night.

[brownskinsugarplum76]

Writer's Month 2020

Day 31: There was only one bed

I made it! This is the last story for the month. I'm glad I tried the challenge.

This one is long. It's something I've been playing around with for a while. There's a teeny bit of romantic action between the two dudes. ❤️❤️❤️

I should add that the Iggy anecdotes are things that I've read in bio books, or things he's said in interviews.

Forgot to say earlier: thanks @ledbythreads for the sanity check on this. 😁❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They faced each other on opposite sides of the king-sized bed. They were both naked and hot after what had just transpired with Alice, and as neither of them was especially modest, neither of them thought much about it.

"Did you see how Alice made her way to the bathroom? Could barely walk!" Iggy laughed his unnerving cackle. "I've never seen a groupie look so ecstatic when we walked back here. Like she'd just won the fucking lottery."

"Not so loud, Ig! This isn't the bloody locker room." Robert's admonition came in a harsh whisper. "But I am proud of my work. Always am." Robert swept his damp curls out of his face and a beamed with a big Cheshire grin.

"She should be proud of her work, too… Would've sucked my soul out, if I had one to spare." Iggy rolled his eyes backward and opened his mouth wide in an exaggerated dramatization of his climax moments before. "Thanks for inviting me back here with her. Real nice of you to share."

Robert laughed at Iggy's joking, rubber face, but the hilarity faded when he noticed how genuine Iggy's gratitude was, and how intently he was paying attention to Robert all of a sudden. There was still amusement in Iggy's eyes, but Robert swore he saw flirtation in the pouty set of Iggy's lips. He realized he found it hard to take his eyes off the devilish little dynamo at the other side of the bed. That bastard always knew how to court attention, Robert thought, having read about Stooges shows and hearing wild word-of-mouth stories from groupies he and Iggy had in common. Guerrilla tactics, on and off the stage. A pint-sized, silver-haired man-child with a heart full of napalm.

Alice emerged from the bathroom after washing up and threw on her dress. She crawled between Robert and Iggy to kiss them both before leaving to fetch her best friend Fran from the party in Bonzo's room.

Robert lay on his back with his hands behind his head. If Fran was anything like Alice, a breather was in order before round two.

Robert sighed and glanced at Iggy, who was reclining on his side. "How does it feel to be in the big leagues? Raw Power is one hell of a record, mate." After all of Robert's chattering that night about the success of Houses of the Holy, he instantly regretted how arrogant his comment must've sounded to Iggy, who had been making music for roughly as long as Led Zeppelin had been. "Sorry," Robert interjected. "What I, uh, mean to say, Ig--"

"No, I get it, Percy." Iggy saw how much the nickname irked Robert when Bonzo spoke it and decided to twist the knife in Robert a bit.

Iggy had no poker face to speak of. Robert could see the American's thoughts slowly formulating through the movement of his big, blue cartoon eyes. Barely controlled rage pivoting to wily thoughtfulness with whiplash speed. Iggy seemed very lucid tonight, which surprised Robert, who had heard horror stories about Iggy's junkie tendencies through the grapevine. He was getting a sense that an alert Iggy was the truly dangerous Iggy.

Robert didn't know whether he would be scorched by what Iggy was going to say, or if he would be impressed by Iggy stopping himself from leveling a vicious retort. Iggy was not unlike Maureen, Robert thought--petite and fiery. And cute. Iggy's energy was vaguely familiar. The thought surprised Robert but also made him smile.

"We had to get dropped before we could perform the fucking album more than once, but yeah, we are getting bigger audiences now, thanks to Bowie's aura around the project. But we've always had a tight, rabid group of fans who really get it. The money isn't much, since the label tossed us out on our asses, but there are a few more people in the audience to catch me."

"You're a lunatic, with that stage diving." Robert caught himself breathing a sigh of relief. Iggy was reflective. Not in the mood to spar verbally.

"What? Too afraid to bust up your pretty face, Perce?"

Robert inhaled with irritation. His face flushed. He couldn't pinpoint why Iggy was getting under his skin. He'd been treated worse by the press. Much worse.

"I just don't have it in me," Robert finally said. "Plus, I'm bigger than you, and I think I could hurt someone. Or, I might come back to the stage naked, once all the birds get their hands on me."

"You'd love it. Admit it, man."

"Maybe I would, Iggy… But I'll leave you to it."

In the silent pause, Iggy swept his gaze over Robert's face again. Iggy admired the masculine set of Robert's jawline, at odds with his feline eyes and the curlicued cloud of his hair. Robert was more attractive than The Stooges' cutest roadies, and Iggy adored his roadies. Robert was a finely sculpted man who seduced everyone with very subtle androgyny. Robert's pretty hippie god look was a far cry from Iggy's battle-scarred demon persona of eyeliner and dark lips. Nevertheless, Iggy reveled in all the boys and girls wanting him. He loved blurring the lines of the expected. It was his ace, shoving people off kilter with his performance. If he straddled a man's lap and sang in his face, or kissed an unexpecting girl in the audience, all eyes would be on him. Hate or love his performance, they would be telling all their friends about it. It never failed.

By the way Robert looked at him, Iggy knew that even Robert found him to be an intriguing novelty. He smirked at the larger man, who smiled at Iggy quizzically.

Iggy wondered if Robert knew what he was doing with his look. But Robert was a god to his fans and had nothing to explain or prove to anyone.

Iggy couldn't lie to himself; he wasn't on that level. He was the sideshow for a loud, primitive band that always performed at the brink of chaos. He would be the scrappy little underdog until the day he died. Nothing came easy. He had to do the dirty work to get what he wanted.

Iggy watched Robert's chest rise and fall with his breath and imagined that it felt just as solid as Iggy's own musculature. Robert was a total package, just like Iggy had heard. Beautiful inside as much as outside. Iggy remembered the dreamy look in Sable's eyes when he saw her on the street and mentioned he'd be coming to the Riot House, as they called it. She'd asked Iggy to say hi to Robert for her. She was on to the next thing, only had eyes for Johnny Thunders these days.

Iggy started to wonder if Robert was someone he wanted, if Robert himself might be interested in exploring that kind of connection. Iggy was not turned off by the idea, no matter how much he protested about any hint of interest in men to anyone who'd listen. But he knew he'd have to be the one to make it happen with Robert. And that was always something he wrestled with.

David and Lou had no qualms about men, but Iggy hadn't truly shaken free from Midwestern ethics. It was like the time Iggy lived with Leee. It was two boys who grew up far from the coasts of America who couldn't act on their feelings, even when Iggy's robe was open and his large cock was on display. Leee was into boys, but as much as Iggy tried to entice him, nothing ever came of it. Iggy couldn't bring himself to go for Leee. Neither man ever spoke about it. Iggy had been paralyzed by his thoughts. Lee? Maybe he just wasn't sure if Iggy was sure. Iggy had broken free from society in many ways, but not this one. He sighed in frustration.

Robert noticed that Iggy's mood had shifted again, that he was lost in his thoughts, and not happy thoughts, it seemed. For all of Iggy's maniacal bravado, Robert realized that his fellow front man wasn't a savage to the core. It put Iggy in a new light in Robert's eyes.

Not that it made Robert think Iggy was delicate or weak. The ripples and etchings of wiry muscles on Iggy's body proved how strong he was, as did how he had clawed his way to a new record deal after his band had been left for dead a few years before.

Robert and Iggy weren't friends, having just met that night, but they sat by the balcony in the Hyatt suite and had a nice, long conversation over drinks, joints, and stories of the stage.

Iggy, Robert was pleased to find out, had more layers than the press ever attributed to him. Iggy was as well read as Robert and had even broader music taste than his British counterpart. It was refreshing for Robert to have a lively artistic conversation with someone who wasn't Jimmy.

Something was shifting between Robert and Iggy. Robert kind of hoped that Alice and Fran would be delayed for a while, even though he was unsure of how he wanted to fill that time with Iggy.

"Penny for your thoughts, Ig."

"Oh…" Iggy swallowed and blinked his eyes. He'd been caught. What the hell, he thought.

"Uh, Robert …"

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever… Done anything with a guy?"

"Haven't had the pleasure, Iggy. You?"

"Closest I've come, I told this creep he could lick my stomach when he asked to suck my dick. And some boys in San Francisco? They, uh, have a fan club for me. Met with them a few times. Touchy-feely motherfuckers. I don't go to sleep around them."

Iggy seemed somewhat ashamed. Robert could understand. Jonesy was convinced that Robert was too provincial, too old fashioned to accept or even acknowledge the male attention he garnered. Maybe the Midlands and Midwest weren't all that different, Robert mused. Iggy may have had more exposure to men who wanted him, but he seemed just as uncomfortable with that kind of attention.

But Robert guessed Iggy, too, was willing to bend the rules a little tonight. Good company and good drugs would do that to anyone.

Both men were lost in their thoughts. The silence was painful. It had become a game of chicken.

"Aw, fuck this." Iggy broke first. He scooted closer to Robert, rested a hand on the larger man's shoulder, and pressed his lips to Robert's. For a few tense seconds it was like both notoriously sexy men forgot how to kiss. Iggy additionally feared getting tossed from the bed by Robert. But then, everything clicked. It was like the first number of an electrifying concert. Both men knew the rush that came from singing the first few bars of a song, the sweet release of all the nervous energy that built while the band played the intro, and the passion that must be doled out with the first notes to hook the audience's attention for the night. Their kiss was exactly the same.

Robert nestled a hand on Iggy's back. Iggy's tongue was exquisitely adventurous. But not aggressive. It was the exact opposite of Iggy's stage persona: tender and unhurried. It was as good as any groupie Robert had ever encountered. Robert got the feeling that Iggy had a surprising number of facets that most would never see. Robert felt honored to get a true glimpse of the man.

Iggy glided his hand into Robert's curls. The American was enjoying himself. He realized it was no big deal after all. He briefly thought of telling David afterward, to see the surprise and envy on his face. Robert. Fucking. Plant! But Iggy would never tell a soul, out of respect for Robert and this moment. And he knew Robert wouldn't breathe a word of it, either.

Robert caressed Iggy's back, causing the smaller man to purr contentedly. The taste of Robert's tongue was the taste of freedom that he'd always craved.

The door opened, and Alice and Fran barged in. Iggy and Robert continued kissing. They'd surprised themselves by not jerking away from each other.

"Oh, my God, that's so hot!" The men heard a new voice. Fran. "They couldn't even wait for us!"

The two women took the scene as their cue and climbed on the bed, choosing a man to play with, separating the embrace.

Robert winked at Iggy, and Iggy nodded his head in response. It was fun while it lasted.

[hadesisqueer]

I seriously laugh, even if it's not really funny (or maybe just a little), about how people just love to criticize Bumbleby even though their argument doesn't make any sense or just shows that they have double standarts.

The relationship is poorly developed.

No, it, in fact, isn't. Subtlely (although Burning the Candle isn't exactly subtle, and neither is the fact that Blake directly compared Yang to her former love interest) or not, the relationship has been hinted and developed since probably... The Red Trailer. Red Like Roses pt. II is basically foreshadowing for the four main characters. Black the Beast descends from shadows, Yellow Beauty burns Gold, anyone? Blake chose Yang as her partner the same way Pyrrha and Nora chose Jaune and Ren, their love interests. And do you really think Adam saying “I will make it my mission to destroy everything you love” and then Yang showing up looking for Blake as Blake looks at her terrified with her face zoomed and then they zoom Adam's face realizing it and saying “starting with her” was meant to be platonic? (Honestly, that was the moment when I confirmed to myself that the relationship was going to be romantic, and I've been proven right). Do you think that Yang admiting that she needed Blake in the same episode in which another girl admits she has feelings for Blake is a coincidence? Did you listen to All That Matters and said “yeah, this is about a gal pal”? Did you even watch vol 6 and 7??? Or just the show, in general? You probably thought Bmblb was about the bike.

I'm not going to make an analysis about their development or about all the Beauty and The Beast references, or about the Renora and Arkos parallels because there are already plenty of those. But honestly, dude, they're not even dating yet. They have romantic feelings for each other, yes, but the already well-developed relationship is still in development so just shut up and keep watching. Or not.

Second argument: It's forced. They're shoving it down our throats.

This one is funny because it doesn't even make sense. Like, how can something be poorly developed and be shoved down your throat at the same time? You were probably one of the few people screeching about Saphron and Terra Cotta, or Clover winking at Qrow, or Ilia being a lesbian, or May being trans, or Blake blushing and Yang gay panicking over her hair.

This one's a classic for basically every single LGBT character in any form of media. Watch whatever show you want, liveaction or animated, watch any film, read any book or comic, it doesn't matter; if they have an LGBTQ+ character, even in the background, you will find someone saying this. Just watch.

They were straight. They made them gay out of nowhere.

First of all, not everyone is straight or gay. There are orientations in between. I'm Spanish, and I always make this joke: the B in LGBT stands for bisexuals, not for bocadillo de atún (that means tuna sandwich in Spanish, and considering is Blake we're talking about, it goes well with the situation). Writers don't have make a character's orientation specific since the begining, because the character might not know. That's what makes it realistic, because it happens in real life. Self-discovery can happen at any age. You might know your sexuality when you're a kid, some people know when they go through puberty (like me), some people realize in their late teens/twenties, and there are people who don't find out until they're like fourty. And yes, I'm talking about Qrow and Fair Game in here. Actually, who says Qrow didn't know already he was bi or whatever and didn't have boyfriends and girlfriends in the past? The guy never said he was LGBTQ+, but he never said he was straight either. None of the characters have. You're the one who is assuming they're all straight because, well, heteronormativity. That's something I unfortunely do too.

Blake is already confirmed to be bisexual. She was in a relationship with Adam and had a crush with Sun and now. Does that mean she can't have feelings for Yang? Now, it doesn't. She has feelings for her. That's what bisexual means. She swings both ways. With Gambol Shroud. Come get some, motherfuckers.

When it comes to Yang, her sexuality hasn't been confirmed yet. We know she's wlw because she likes Blake, but she could be anything. For my part, until her orientation is confirmed (if it ever is, because I don't think it's always necessary to adress a character's sexuality; they like who they like, period), I think she's a lesbian. Yes, she made that joke about shirtless guys in early vol 1, but then she never showed interest in any male after that. Neptune tried to flirt? Uninterested. Shirtless Sun? Lame. Two huntsmen try to flirt with her? Pass. That joke could've been because she hadn't realized yet or maybe it was just that, a joke to annoy Ruby. I'm an out lesbian and I make jokes like that all the time to annoy my friends. But until it's confirmed, it's only a headcannon.

Them being a couple would ruin the team's dynamic because they would look more after each other and leave the other two teammates as second.

This one is just stupid. Yes, it would ruin the dynamic just like Arkos and Renora would ruin their team dynamic, right? And yet I still haven't seen anyone complaining about those two couples, just the same sex one. Damn, do you think having two sisters on the same team doesn't affect the dynamic already? (Pause to laugh because honestly, if I were Yang, I probably wouldn't take Ruby as a leader seriously. My little sister who I basically raised and who is nearly a foot shorter than me, ordering me around? I couldn't lmao).

It ruins the entire show

I'm not even going to talk about this one. If you think the show is ruined because two girls are dating, just stop watching it. No one is forcing you to ship the couple, you are allowed to dislike it and ship other things. Don't go around talking about “toxic wasps” (Pause again: who thought wasp is insulting? I laugh everytime I get called that) are obsessed with the ship because the ones who won't stop talking about it and making entire videos about how terrible it is and how it ruins the show are the haters. I haven't been in the fandom for much time, honestly. Quarantine made me watch the show. But the couple months I've been here have been enough for me to realize that the amount of toxic Bumbleby shippers is actually really small. Bumbleby shippers aren't obsessed with Bumbleby nor are they trying to force the writers to do what they want, the haters are.

[tiniest-hands-in-all-the-land]

Not the same anon as before, but could we get some getting together erasermic headcannons?

Okay so i’ve been putting these off under the guise that I’ve been busy--which, in truth, i have been--but part of the real reason i’ve been putting them off is because i don’t actually have concrete headcanons on how Hizashi and Shouta get together D:

So like 99% of these are probably just gonna be Life-After-Getting-Together headcanons and not actually Getting-Together headcanons. But uuhhhhhhhhhh let’s try this anyways!

As much as I love the idea of Hizashi and Shouta being highschool sweethearts, I feel like. They’re too dumb?? To recognize their feelings for each other until they’re in their twenties??

Mic definitely wakes up in a cold sweat one night like “oh shIT I LOVE HIM”, whilst Aizawa’s descent into lovesickness was more subtle and more drawn out, with him just kinda realizing with every sweet thing Mic does for him making his heart beat faster until he’s actively trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong with him

They’re both nervous af around each other; but Mic deals with his issues with humor whilst Aizawa deals with his issues by pretending they don’t exist

Assuming Aizawa doesn’t just flat out tell Mic about his feelings immediately (which is something i honestly kind of expect that he would do), he would throw himself into his work to the point of which the only time he ever comes home to their shared apartment is when Mic is out for his radio show or is sleeping

Mic definitely misses him, and tries to rearrange his schedule in response just so he’ll have some time to spend with Aizawa, much to Aizawa’s simultaneous dismay and reluctant pleasure

As he grows a bit bolder with his crush, Mic offhandedly flirts with Aizawa. 

Aizawa always takes his nice comments as just that--nice comments. Cuz. Mic? The one with hair silkier than some rich dude’s designer scarf?? Complimenting his rat’s nest of a bedhead tied in the messiest braid ever woven by human hands??? Calling it cute???? ‘Mmmmm i dunno know about that one scoob’

Shouta snuffs out the hope that maybe Mic actually means the nice comments pretty quickly. He’s dumb like that.

Eventually Mic’s flirting and touchiness get to be too intense, and as he’s gushing about how cute and cuddly Aizawa is when he’s sleepy Mic ends up accidentally spilling the beans with a “--and that’s why I’m in love with you!”

He’s mortified to say the least. But also--Mic was super obvious with his crush, how could he expect Aizawa to not read into his comments/actions?

Joke’s on him. Cause Aizawa’s a dumb motherfucker who’s just now realizing his hopeless crush is reciprocated

“......Oh. Well now I feel like an idiot.”

They have a good laugh about how dumb they both were dancing around each other with their feelings, and then they smooch. Happy end.

They’re dating is pretty subdued. Because of current society and because of Mic’s status as a famous celebrity and Aizawa’s as an unknown, they keep their relationship a secret from everyone except for a handful of people: The teachers at UA, Tensei Iida, The Wild Wild Pussycats, Detective Tsukauchi, and eventually Miss Joke after Aizawa gets tired of her ‘advances’

in truth, Miss Joke could tell the two were practically married a mile away, and had no real intention of barging in on that. And, like Aizawa, she is also hella gay, and thinks the idea of her and him dating is the funniest fucking thing on the planet

Mic’s pretty sad that he’s not allowed to proclaim his love of Aizawa to the entire world, but he respects Aizawa’s privacy more than his disappointment, and does an ace job at keeping their relationship under wraps

In truth, it’s Aizawa who actually ends up revealing more about their relationship

I’ve mentioned this before in previous headcanon posts but feel like it needs to be put here too: Aizawa’s lack of complaint and lack of suplexing Mic to the ground whenever he so much as lays a finger on him is very telling of how much Aizawa likes Mic.

They don’t partake in PDA because of the secrecy of their relationship, but Mic has a workaround for that: his own personal loophole--he’s touchy with everyone. So he has a perfectly viable excuse to throw himself all over Aizawa in public, pulling Aizawa into hugs, touching Aizawa’s face, running his hands through Aizawa’s hair, clasping Aizawa’s hand in his.

And nobody gets the idea Aizawa’s getting special treatment because Mic is like this with everybody.

Mic could plant a big wet kiss on Aizawa’s cheek in front of a roaring crowd and everyone would just be like “Yeah, that’s normal. That’s just how Mic is.’

Mic most certainly alludes to his #1 Listener on his radio show on a consistent basis.

There are conspiracy theories going around on who Mic’s #1 Listener might be. None of them are even close to being correct.

They all make their way to Mic, and it’s honestly his favorite form of entertainment to read through just how involved some of the conspiracies get

Mic and Aizawa get married at twenty-four, with Aizawa proposing

Their wedding is ridiculously small, per Aizawa’s request, with no more than 20 people showing up.

(this one is courtesy of the 18+ erasermic discord): Mic definitely played keytar for Aizawa during the ceremony. It’s one of two times Aizawa allows himself to cry in public

Mic is the one who brings up the idea of adopting a child. Aizawa kind of dismisses it, joking that they already have a bunch of children in the forms of their students. He then takes the suggestion more seriously and tells Mic that he thinks its a bad idea: they’re both pro heroes who are very rarely at home, they have no time to raise and take care of another human being. Aizawa also expresses concerns for their hypothetical child’s safety in a world of quirks and heroes and villains, where personal attacks on a hero’s family are very much a thing

Not to mention, Aizawa just. Doesn’t think he’d be a very good dad. Mic? Yes, without a doubt. But him? If his reputation as a teacher is anything to go by, he would not be an enjoyable dad

Mic gets what Aizawa is saying. He’s disappointed to say the least, but he comes around to understanding Aizawa’s concerns, and eventually just drops the idea.

The parenting suggestion doesn’t come up between them again until years later, when Eri comes into their lives

Then it’s Aizawa suggesting they adopt her, because 

1. Villains could still potentially be after Eri, and who better than Pro Hero Parents to protect her?

2. Aizawa doesn’t know the people who Eri might get adopted by! What if they’re villains in disguise? Aizawa doesn’t trust them, no matter how nice they seem. 

3. Eri’s already comfortable with them, and she’s comfortable with everyone in the dorms who she lives among. Why take that away from her and force her to acquaint herself with strangers?

4. What if Eri’s quirk starts acting up, and she’s unable to control it? Ain’t no other person gonna be able to safely cancel it out!

And 5...... Aizawa may have gotten attached to her during his role of Care Taker

Mic is quick to jab at Aizawa’s earlier reluctance of adopting, but in truth is very welcoming of the idea of making Eri a part of their family. So he helps Aizawa out with filing the adoption papers, and soon they’re the proud parents of a sweet innocent bby

They end up adopting Shinsou as well, after Shinsou’s dad is killed after a villain attack and he’s left as an orphan

They adopt him mostly to give Shinsou some stability after it was ripped away from him so suddenly. They just want to make sure he can spend his last 3-5 years of dependence in peace, with a place to call home and people he can be comfortable around

Neither Aizawa nor Mic expect him to consider them parental figures, considering how close Shinsou was with his biological dad, but they welcome him into their family with open arms anyways

Aizawa and Mic are very proud of their little family, no matter how shoddily it may have been put together

That ended sad. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

[megastarstrike]

hi it’s me, the motherfucker who has too many ideas about hifumi and yusuke being friends so i wrote another one. but this time, featuring guest artist yutaba.

it’s basically both of them being disasters while hifumi helps him get ready for a date. heres the trash. 

word count: 2360

-

[17:46] Yusuke: Hifumi, I urgently require your assistance.

Well, that was never a good start to a conversation.

Hifumi stopped in the middle of her walk back home from her daily shogi practice at church. She stepped next to a lamppost and squinted at her phone.

Would this be important? Last time he sent a text this ambiguous, it was a poem about him being torn between eating a mushroom he found growing next to the school building and not wanting to risk being poisoned. It ended with her dragging him away from the mushroom and into a grocery store so he could buy real food for once. And while it was fun navigating the stores by riding inside the cart while Yusuke drove it forward, it wasn’t fun ramming into a crowd of people and almost being banned from the store.

Her thumbs danced over the screen of her phone before she finally decided to reply.

[17:48] Hifumi: Please don’t tell me you’re about to eat another questionable plant… [17:48] Yusuke: No, not this time. [17:48] Yusuke: Please come to my dorm as soon as possible. I have a time limit.

And now she was more alarmed because it sounded like he was trying to disarm a bomb. Knowing all the shenanigans he had been pulled into this year, it was impossible to not be worried.

So she texted her mother she would be coming home late and redirected her route to Kosei High School.

-

Yusuke flung the door wide open before Hifumi could even knock on it (she was left sadly, slowly putting her fist down by her side). “Thank goodness you’ve arrived. I have a predicament I couldn’t solve alone.”

Hifumi stepped into the dorm, carefully stepping over an empty bottle of paint. She shut the door behind her and finally allowed herself to take in the disaster that was her best friend.

Firstly, his room was usually immaculate, a feat he had managed to accomplish even with the messy nature of his passion. The sight in front of her, however, looked like a war zone. None of his paintings had been disturbed, but the amount of clutter everywhere was enough to make her worry the school would make him pay for a deep cleaning. On top of that, his closet door was wide open, revealing the utter mess that was inside. Had he really been disabling a bomb and failed to do so before she arrived? It sure seemed like it.

“Yusuke,” Hifumi called, her voice flat as she scanned her surroundings. “Were you robbed?”

“It was nothing of the sort,” Yusuke said hurriedly. “Though you could say I was robbed of my sanity.”

“What happened?”

He averted his eyes, his shoulders tensing. “It… It seems my talent for art does not extend to the fashion world as much as I thought it did.”

Hifumi frowned. Was he embarrassed or sad? Whichever it was, she hated to see him like this. “Nonsense. I’m certain you’ve just overextended your creativity for the day. Allow me to help.” She walked towards the closet, browsing through his clothes and completely unsurprised at his sense of fashion. “What event is this for?”

At that, Yusuke’s entire body tensed. He turned away.

“Yusuke…?”

He spoke after taking a deep breath. “I believe… I’m due for an outing with someone I have a romantic interest in.”

“So a date?”

“... Yes.”

Hifumi blinked. She had pieced together who he had been particularly interested in after she was invited to one of his afterschool activities (which was really just hangout time for the former Phantom Thieves because come on. Being subtle was not their strong point). But for either the other person or Yusuke to finally say something about their feelings…

Well, it seemed her best friend had a date.

Wait. Her best friend had a date!

Hifumi grinned and poked his cheek. “I’m so proud of you, Yusuke. Did you ask Futaba or did she ask you?”

Yusuke tilted his head away from her finger, an annoyed expression crossing his face. “I believe she asked me.” He paused. “How did you know it was Futaba?”

“Neither of you were very subtle about your feelings.”

“... Ah. So I’ve been told.” His gaze moved down to his hand, which was still stained with paint. “I was engaged in a conversation with Ann a few hours earlier and explained my predicament. She asked me what I was going to wear for this date, and I asked if that mattered. She said it did and that she would help me after she finished her shift, but her shift ends after my date begins. The timing wouldn’t work out.”

Hifumi nodded along. “So now I’m here?”

“Apparently so.”

Being the second choice didn’t hurt; Ann was a model experienced with fashion, after all, while Hifumi was just as much of a social recluse as Yusuke was. In all honesty, being invited to make suggestions for something this personal made her heart warm. Was this what normal teenagers did for their friends? Even if it wasn’t, she wouldn’t give this up for anything.

“Allow me a moment to rummage through your closet,” Hifumi said. “For now, you can wash the paint off your hands.”

Yusuke nodded and headed into the bathroom.

Her movements as she shifted through the clothing paused.

Her suggestions were actually being taken seriously? She was being listened to? That was a feeling unlike any other.

Hifumi smiled and hummed to herself, continuing to take inventory of the clothes in the closet.

-

“Yusuke, you have four shirts and two pairs of pants that are the exact same shade of black. How have you survived up until this point?”

“You ask that as if I have a satisfactory answer.”

Hifumi supposed she shouldn’t have expected the person who regularly skipped lunch to buy new paints to have a plethora of clothing, but she certainly didn’t expect his closet to be this sparse. It was almost sad. How often did he have to do laundry?

“Please do not be concerned,” Yusuke said. “Ann promised we would buy a new outfit together later during the week. However, this is what is at my disposal now.”

She sighed and shook her head. There was nothing she could do about his concerning priorities now. Instead, she settled for picking out a light pink shirt with a white outline at the top circling the neck and a brown jacket with an odd, asymmetrical design. “I believe this would suit you nicely. Could you try them on? I’ll even allow you to choose which of your two pairs of pants you want to wear with it.”

“... You’re teasing me.”

“Only a little bit. Now hurry, we don’t have much time left.”

Yusuke took the clothes (and predictably took the shinier pair of pants because of course), thanked her, and stepped into the bathroom. A few minutes later, he called, “I’m fully clothed. You may come in if you’d like.”

Hifumi stepped into the bathroom and stood beside Yusuke, who frowned as he smoothed out some stray wrinkles in his clothes. She stared at their reflections in the mirror. Their small height difference would never cease to amuse her, especially with how tall Yusuke was compared to the other members of his group. But now wasn’t the time for that. “Is this to your liking?”

Yusuke redirected his gaze at the mirror. He looked his figure up and down with a blank expression. “The combination of colors is not off-putting, and it seems to be in line with current fashion standards as I understand them. Thank you for your assistance.”

Oh, thank god. Her lack of any artistic talent whatsoever hadn’t failed her yet.

“I’m glad. However, there are still some things I would like to improve.” Hifumi picked up a comb and began untangling his hair, standing on her toes to reach the top of his head.

His shoulders tensed under her touch, then relaxed. A few seconds later, he leaned into the touch just the slightest bit like a cat who wanted affection but was too prideful to admit it. (Hifumi should know; she had met that cat before.)

It was at times like these Hifumi remembered Yusuke hadn’t been exposed to much physical affection while under Madarame’s supervision. Even teenagers with normal childhoods missed having their hair touched by someone else, and Hifumi still had her hair done by her mother sometimes. How many times had he been deprived of something as basic as this? Anger simmered in her gut, but anger wasn’t the emotion needed here. She stowed it away and was careful to ensure her contact was gentle.

Finally, Hifumi set the comb on the counter and took a step away, smiling at the new shine in Yusuke’s eyes. She put a hand on his shoulder. “Has disaster been averted?”

“Yes, I’d say so,” Yusuke said quietly. His lips curved into a satisfied smile that radiated more light than a star. “You have my gratitude. I’m in your debt.”

Hifumi’s heart warmed. She flicked his cheek and grinned at the resulting side-eye directed at her. “Don’t say that. These are typical actions friends take for each other.”

“Truly?”

“Um… I believe so?”

It wasn’t like either of them could confirm or deny. Both had only entered the realm of friendship just recently, stumbling on various obstacles as they observed others and tried to comprehend what friendship truly entailed. It wasn’t a simple endeavor by any means. Friendship wasn’t anything like shogi; it was illogical, emotional. It was like trying to understand a storm’s motivations. Hifumi had almost given up multiple times trying to piece it together, but in the end…

Well, what could she say other than she was glad to have a friend?

“I suppose you should head out to your date now,” Hifumi said. She took a few steps out of the bathroom before realizing Yusuke wasn’t following. She turned back with furrowed eyebrows. “Are you alright?”

Yusuke’s demeanor was as calm as ever, but throughout her attempts to understand him as a person, she had learned most of his turmoil took place inside. His shoulders and arms were stiff, and he looked frozen in place. A clear indication he was hesitating, if all those body language guides she had read were correct.

“Yusuke?”

“We planned on meeting at Leblanc. Please accompany me there.”

Ah. He was nervous. That much was clear. She saw no reason to decline.

The two departed from the Kosei dorms, and Hifumi continued nitpicking every detail of his appearance. Yusuke eventually recognized most of her comments weren’t serious and gave her an exasperated stare.

Hifumi laughed. It was her god-given right as a friend, after all.

-

“You do have enough money to take her somewhere nice, yes? And for that matter, you most certainly have a plan. Oh, and brush that hair out of your eyes. Shy eyes haven’t been in style since decades ago.”

“You’re enjoying this far more than you should.”

“I’m enjoying this the appropriate amount.”

Yusuke stopped to give her another cold instance of side-eye, his favorite maneuver to pull when he suspected Hifumi was teasing him. The annoyance on his face dissipated upon realizing they had made it to the corner just by Leblanc. They could see the entrance from where they stood.

“I haven’t the slightest idea why I’m feeling this way,” Yusuke said, his eyes trained on the doorway.

Hifumi gave him a sympathetic smile. “Nervous? Anticipatory? I understand. I get the same way before a tournament.”

“This is frustrating. These feelings are a curse.”

“I know you don’t truly feel that way.” She patted him on the shoulder, and some of the tension present faded. “You were focusing on what a human heart contained during your latest study, correct? Now that you have an opportunity to experiment with it, will you allow it to fly past you?”

He glanced down at the floor, digging his shoe into the sidewalk. “No, I suppose not.”

Their conversation was cut short when the bells above Leblanc’s door rang and the door slammed open. Futaba came stumbling out, panic written all over her face. She whirled around back to whoever was still inside the shop.

“Akira!” she shouted. “No friendly fire allowed! I’m banning you from this server!”

“You’ve grinded enough for this mission. You’re locked out of the tutorial area,” Akira replied. That was the only reply he gave before waving and shutting the door.

Ouch. Cold, Akira.

Yusuke’s expression softened into a fond smile. “Those two… They truly do resemble siblings.”

Hm. That reminded her…

She wasn’t done with her job.

“Sorry, Yusuke,” Hifumi said before taking a few steps back.

Yusuke’s eyes widened. “Wait… don’t tell me—”

Hifumi pushed him forward, sending him stumbling into view. It was possibly the rudest thing she had ever done and she wouldn’t have done it to anyone else, but she was certain he would thank her for it later.

“Hifumi! You traitor!” Yusuke yowled. He whirled to round on her, only to freeze upon seeing Futaba giggling. “Oh. Good evening, Futaba. Please stop deriving joy out of my pain.”

Futaba’s laughter only grew louder. “Yeah, but you were so dramatic about it! You were like, ‘You traitor!’ and you looked so pissed. Who wouldn’t laugh at that?”

“A mature person, something you are not.”

Hifumi sighed. Blunt as ever, Yusuke. Never change.

“Please, I’m pretty sure I barely count as a person,” Futaba scoffed. Following that statement, the confidence was drained from her body. She averted her eyes and picked at her fingernails. It seemed she was gathering the courage for—

Oh. She leapt forward and tugged on the sleeve of his coat. “Let’s just… Let’s just get going.”

Yusuke smiled down at her fondly as they walked away together.

Back at the corner nearby Leblanc, Hifumi checked her wallet to ensure she had enough funds before walking towards the cafe. Might as well buy something while she was here.

But her best friend was happy. And seeing that, she was happy as well

[notwxrriors]

You wanna break down “let me down easy” verse by verse like you talked about? Cause I wanna read it

yeAH i do actually, thank u !!!! im pumped!!!!

this song is a bit over 5 minutes long and it is SO GOOD, holy FUCK, here’s the link to it if u wanna listen to it bc i meAN IT

i really love this song for awtto. i think it captures a lot of their relationship, the feelings of being young and a little outcasted but finding someone who understands you, even if things are a bit strange. anyway. let’s get into it

the way i’m analysing this song is Not what the song is written about, obviously, but music is meant to have many meanings and i love the meanings this song can have.

“You want someone to want you for who you are I want someone to try, then let me down easy, easy tonight Easy, easy tonight“

the first line is so otto @ awsten,,, it feels really tongue-in-cheek, about how aws always wants to be Different. i sorta feel like the song goes through the years that they know each other, so it’d start at the very beginning, with scene aws and them starting to get to become familiar with one another, start having deeper conversations, esp about romantic stuff. to “want someone to try, then let me down easy” is kinda like...otto just accepting that this isn’t going to last. it’s a one night thing, and that’s okay.

“Honey, it’s no secret that with matters of the heart I’m reserved, I’m irrational and rarely ever start But since the world’s dark and often inhumane Relish our condition, come drinking in the rain”

THOSE FIRST TWO LINES...SO otto. the awkwardness he has, especially with awsten, he just...doesn’t try. but the next two are a bit more optimistic, maybe a bit of aws rubbing off on him

“‘Cause you remember when, after Paris We all decided the best way to fight it was Drink wine, dance here and pray And make love that lasts with a vengeance”

i don’t think paris is a particular thing here, it’s sorta more the concept of traveling together, getting into messes, falling in love and trying to not fall in love. also they fuck, so,

“So you can join the cowards all aboard the outrage train You can stay afraid, or slit the throat of fear and be brave And scratch the little itch 'til you’re moving like a motherfucker Up in this bitch”

i love this verse. the subtle aggression in it, the being done with being closeted/secret in this situation. otto trying to get awsten out of whatever shell he’s put himself in, telling him he can stay scared or get over it

“You wanted to fight for a cause Then go out and fall in love Don’t stop, don’t stop believing In truth and grace in the grievance”

another sorta jab at awsten tbh, wanting to fight for a cause and all that. teenage rebellion. but isn’t the biggest rebellion, in conservative ass texas, loving another man openly? freely? truth and grace in the grievance is a lil self-explanatory in this context, just keep believing in whatever cause you’re fighting for even if it’s hard

“So look at me and tell me what I already know That I trialled and I failed and it’s good to let it go Sometimes life sucks, everything is lame Not everything’s as easy as making lemonade”

i loVE these first two lines. it’s like “yeah, you screwed up, but that’s okay. just keep moving on”, that’s a very awsten headspace and he’d love to remind otto that he’s not just his mistakes. the next two lines are jus cute

“And so dismembering our state of balance With lust requited, a gaze undivided With a cool mind and warmth in your face A good heart, a grace under pressure”

this is. so gorgeous. just commentary on awsten, really. “warmth in your face” is so Cute considering how rosy aws always is, and a good heart and grace under pressure (see: chorus)

“You give me a good reason to be heartsick again To be here, to be strong, to be oddly and boldly estranged From the loss and bitter years I found myself descending into tedium and fear”

maybe my favorite verse in this whole fuckin song?? in this context, awsten giving him a reason to be strong and bold, to be heartsick again. to love him. from the “loss and bitter years” of being younger, of guilt and shame around sexuality, and awsten just...helps him come to terms to it, even if it hurts sometimes, even if they dont ever actually date

“If it’s late, you’re drunk and wanting A reason, some reason to live I always, I always say Just put on some Whitesnake”

aws and otto both don’t drink, so the alcohol refs in this song are sorta moot, but i think by here we’ve moved into more recent times with them (and honestly this falls in well w the c**r* thing, like this verse takes place right after theyve broken up). awsten’s...worse, honestly, mental-health wise, but otto’s always his comfort person. he calls otto when they’re not together, and they stay on the phone long into the night, sometimes without even talking, just soft music playing from one of their ends

“Honey, it’s no secret that I’ve been losing my way In the weirdest of moments and the stupidest of ways But hey, I’m still young and it’s gonna be okay I got solipsism, baby, and I brought lemonade”

and hell, maybe otto isn’t doing too well, either. it comes in different ways than awsten’s. and the third line is so sweet, that optimism that wasn’t there at the beginning is now present and he’s using it to help aws this time instead of vise versa.

“I’ll surrender then, all my balance And be excited and drink to tonight It’s not a, a bad time, time spent with you There’s cool lights and songs with good lyrics”

seeing each other again in a romantic context, after a few years of awsten’s ex. awsten’s in houston, otto’s with him, and they’re alone. it’s like being barely-adults again, and otto lets down those walls he’s been building the past few years, and things settle right back into place

“We never have to talk again, whatever, up to you But since you’re putting up with me Here’s another toast just to you Let’s dance, off the beat Then mosey out together and say goodbye on the street”

the thought of awsten “putting up with” otto is sorta laughable, considering their respective personalities, but sometimes otto really does feel like that. also, them dancing together is a VERY sweet thought, and seperating at the end of the night like they’ve done many times before, feeling okay about it

“Don’t stop, don’t stop believing In truth and personal freedom I want someone to want me for who I am I want someone to try, or let me down easy, easy tonight”

the last chorus is a bit different. instead of “grace and the grievance”, we’ve developed into “personal freedom”, and thats. fuckin beautiful, honestly, with aws getting out of his last relationship and he and otto rekindling things again. and for otto, “i want someone to want me for who i am”, is a bit of a realization that maybe awsten is the only one who does. i think it’s kinda on brand though, to still feel like someone has to try with him, and that he’s going to be let down, even all these years later.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 008: Capture the Flag

Previously on BnHA: Deku won his homeroom teacher’s approval by sending a baseball into outer space. Recovery Girl was like, “stop breaking shit.” All the characters got their superhero costumes revealed EXCEPT FOR DEKU because the mangaka is a fucking tease.

Today on BnHA: All Might’s first class! The kids split into teams of two to play Capture the Flag Nuclear Device! And, oh yes

KACCHAN VS DEKU

(((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))

As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 11 now, so any ETAs will reflect that.

hold onto your butts, kids, because we’ve reached the second volume, and judging from the cover it seems like this rivalship is about to heat up

also this cover totally spoils Izuku’s about-to-be-revealed superhero costume, but that’s okay since I’ve seen it before already

I’m at a loss for words at how wonderful and perfect this title is. just want to give it a round of applause

and I accidentally saw the title for chapter 9 while I was scrolling through the volume index and. !!!!!!!!!

(it’s “Deku vs. Kacchan” in case you were wondering)

SOMEBODY better have learned how to clench his butt more gently and visualize that damn microwave egg real good, that’s all I’m saying, because shit’s apparently about to hit the fan

ahhh there is a whole page of detailed backstory on how their costumes were made. I’m gonna cry they put so much actual thought into it

LMAO Bakugou helped design his own ridiculous costume

this will absolutely ensure that everyone takes you seriously, Kacchan

real talk this is the most Gokuderaish shit he’s done so far. I knew he had some nerdiness in him somewhere

there is apparently a Quirk Registry where everyone’s quirk details are kept in some kind of national index. pretty sure this kind of thing was the impetus behind the conflict in the first X-Men film, as well as the first (comic-verse) Marvel Civil War. but I guess it’s not as controversial when 80% of the population has these powers. at that point you’re like “yeah okay let’s make a list”

in Horikoshi’s Wikipedia bio it said he was a huge Marvel fan and it fucking shows. in a good way

lol Izuku’s mom startled him and he hung up on All Might

what is he actually going to list as his quirk though, since the whole One for All thing is supposed to be a secret? what does AM have on his own quirk registry form?

(ETA: in chapter 11 it’s revealed that All Might has told at least 3 other people about his quirk, though. so there’s that. I wonder if he has a friend in the government, or if not, maybe the U.A. principal has some influence. or hell, he probably has a fair amount of influence himself, being the great symbol of peace.)

his mom is apologizing to Izu for her sad crying in his sad flashback. is this going to get emotional. Deku hasn’t cried yet in this chapter and the clock is ticking, so

sob Deku is wearing the costume his mom made him with love. I can’t

THE JUMPSUIT IS FINE BUT THE HELMET THING. I FUCKING CAN’T

also is this thing really going to hold up when he goes all out? last time he ripped the arm right off of his jacket. I hope he did tell them something about his quirk, otherwise this thing is not going to last

(ETA: lol he did not and lol it did not)

the good thing is that everyone else’s costumes are also so fucking ridiculous that not a one of them can say a damned word

except for this guy

I don’t know his name. right now he’s Hot Guy in the Corner. but this guy knows how to uniform

listen, I have heard people compliment my shoes as “really comfortable looking” enough times to know when someone is just trying to be polite and reaching hard. I appreciate the thought though

trying to figure out how those giant boots of hers could possibly be useful for her zero-g powers. especially since she apparently didn’t actually request them. maybe they’ve got magnets or some shit

All Might is embarrassed that Deku made derivative Victory Antennae for his own costume just like All Might’s

AW HE LOVES YOU

statistically the most heinous villains are more likely to appear indoors. there could be a Heinous Villain standing behind you right now. it may already be too late. hide yo kids hide yo wife

now All Might’s going to split them into two-person teams and sic ‘em on each other

”this teaching thing is fucking easy.” [pats self on back]

these kids are the best

oh damn he’s actually got a whole involved scenario for the thing. as expected of the man who so obsessively planned every last minute little detail of Izuku’s training

but actually this is just capture the flag

it’s capture the flag my dude

in theory their partners will be chosen by drawing lots! in reality it’s the all-powerful hand of the mighty mangaka at work

lmao Iida questions if this is really the best way and Izu launches into a lengthy explanation about how it makes sense because it’s similar to what might happen in real life, and Iida fucking apologizes for getting ahead of himself. YOU’VE BROUGHT SHAME UPON YOUR ENTIRE FAMILY IIDA. HOW DARE YOU QUESTION THE LOTS

somehow I saw this coming

the guy on Discount Zuko’s right has such a flat head I didn’t register him as a person for a sec and was wondering why Discount Zuko didn’t appear to have a partner

I’m 99% sure Discount Zuko’s name is Todoroki by the way, but WHEN. WILL. HE. get an actual introduction goddammit?!

heh

...am I really going to have to learn the rest of these characters’ names too?? there are 16 of them. this is like the goddamn Chuunin Exams all over again

goddammit

Ochako is so happy to be paired up with Izu, while Izu is Having a Crisis

yeah son you need to get over that

oh boy here come the ~RANDOM LOTS~

a.k.a. the ONLY TWO TEAMS WITH NAMED CHARACTERS ON THEM*

*I know Yuri on Ice is a named character as well but I CAN’T REMEMBER WHAT IT IS and CLEARLY IT DOESN’T MATTER YET ANYWAY

my GOD those are some fortunate ~RANDOM LOTS~

so what do the other 16 people do, just sit back and watch?

son of a

I suppose they’ll all take turns and the next four will go once these four are done, though. off-screen of course. fuck those guys

All Might is telling Bakugou to adopt a villain mindset and that it’s okay for him to go all out. All Might out here trying to get Deku killed

this gon be good

meanwhile Ochaku and Izu are trying to memorize the building’s layout. Ocha isn’t stressed because this time they don’t have to worry about being expelled

and it must be my birthday because here’s a whole page all about Izuku musing on his and Bakugou’s rivalship

sooooo this is either gonna be a draw or Bakugou probably will actually lose to him. the latter is going to fuck that kid right up if it happens

:D

(ETA: :DDDDD)

YES. EXACTLY. DAMN MY WEAKNESS FOR RIVALRIES

All Might thinks loudly at his son that he’s not going to show him any favoritism

All Might is a fucking liar but it’s cute so he gets a pass

Deku and Ocha are sneaking in through a window. I assume Ocha floated them up there or something. she’s so smart and talented

I wonder if she could just float Iida and Bakugou out of the building so that they wouldn’t have to actually fight them

Izu’s helmet makes him look like Sonic the Fucking Hedgehog and it’s really distracting me

BAKUGOU LEAPING IN OUT OF NOWHERE TO ATTACK THEM

THANK FUCK, HE BLASTED DEKU’S HELMET OFF

NOW he looks like the Izuku I’m always seeing on tumblr posts

JUST TAKE OFF THE OTHER HALF OF THE HELMET, DUDE

this Momotaro-looking guy is complaining that Bakugou’s sneak attack wasn’t “manly” but dude he’s supposed to be playing the villain in this scenario

heh. he’s off the fucking hinges

OH FUCKING DAMN

IS HE ABOUT TO IPPON SEOI NAGE THIS MOFO

”did he just read my moves?” wereeeee you thinking your movement was actually subtle...? let’s go back and take another look

this is such an obvious attack a three year old could probably read it

not discounting Deku, though. son of a bitch really DID ippon seoi nage the shit out of him

YES DEKU, YES

“Kachaan, you almost always lead with that right hook.” his lifetime of being bullied finally pays off! also, seriously, that was the most obvious right fucking hook anyone’s ever attempted. thanks in part to the always dynamic and interesting art style!

ummmm

is... this... actually a compliment somehow...?

no, seriously, he’s leading into a speech about how he’s not gonna sit back and take Kacchan’s shit anymore, but he also just analyzed his attack, and then said that this is something he specifically does with “heroes he thinks are awesome”

for now my verdict is that it is a compliment but it’s probably unintended and he might not be paying attention to what he just said

anyway, Deku’s getting seriously fired up now

KACCHAN YOU BETTER WATCH YOURSELF MOTHERFUCKER THIS IS THE FACE OF A KID WHO’S ABOUT TO CLENCH HIS FUCKING BUTT

lmao this tiny panel of Iida looking around wondering where everyone else is

darn him

FREEZE FRAME!!

ENHANCE

ARE THOSE

TEARS

DEKU

DEKU

THIS WAS LITERALLY THE LAST PANEL

YOU WERE IN THE CLEAR

OH MY SWEET GREEN SON

...one of these days. one of these days we’ll get there

BONUS:

my takeaway from this is that some of these characters don’t actually have normal names and are only going to go by their superhero names, which makes me wonder if we’ll ever find out All Might’s name. I want to knoooooow but don’t spoil me please sob

[facelessdreamer]

Fuck

I hate my mum so fucking much. I shouldn't but I feel it. I’m just so fucking mad because she’s she. I fucking fuck o my god I just arghhhhhgggggfhshgskwwj fucking ARGHHGGGGGGGGHHHHHH the fuck she make me do things? Why the fuck does whatever she say to me piss me off this much. I don’t give a shit about her words and constant nonsense about the same shit okay! And why the fuck does she drag something on for so long?! You can always always always fucking see I’m in the middle of some shit. Whether it’s tv or fucking all set to leave the house. Yet you’ll fucking talk and keep me from it. And I always try so fucking hard to just stand or sit there and hear your fucking shit I don't wanna hear. I don’t listen. I just hear bc that’s all I can naturally do. Seriously the shit she talks about with me doesn’t ever interest me and Ive no energy or will for it. I just wanna go on about my life and never be stopped for a minute. I have my own wars beefing me in here already. I barely fucking watch tv either. Today’s my day off in like absolute fucking ages. I hadn’t spent a day at home for weeks and she's out here talking on the phone needing the tv volume low and being her usual loud on the phone and I can’t hear shit on the tv? but when she watches tv were not allowed to make a fucking sound? only double standards from this woman aggravate me on a level as high as this. Later she even hoovers in the same room for 15 fucking minutes, are you dumb? It’s not a fucking mile long mate why take that long I'm building all this shit load of adrenaline and already fuming after 5 minutes of her presence with this clutter. I watched her the whole time instead bc she was blocking the fucking tv and sound with the bloody Hoover noise so I was forced to see all this instead. All I wanted was to watch this single programme man. that's all. it may not matter in 2 days or 5 years but I wanted this, for now, for the moment I desired this. So tell my why tf does it take that long to Hoover this small space in our living room? I swear the longer she took outside of 5 minutes pissed me the fucck offf and I was just there sitting, building samosas and fuming. I really couldn't help it. this part of my life everything made my blood boil. my mother was sitting at top throne of that fucking trigger mate. Fucking hell the way I always hold shit in with her just takes me soo mad I can’t even explain. All my nerves will explode and I could die. 

My fucking 7 year old shit of a little cunt sister pissed me off as well too. Several times today. I was watching tv during the time my mum made me come down and make somosas while she was also talking on the phone like I said. I wanted her to just leave bc I couldn’t hear the tv and she also made us minimise the volume. The fucking nerve. Anyway I make her leave when there’s not much left to do with the somosas now. I switch to the plus one channel bc I wanna watch the whole royal programme again hearing every word of it and I can get what I wanted out of today finally. But noooooo now this little cunt who refused to leave the room now too kept making a million loud and unnecessary fucking noises and I was just so astonished at how she was so capable at making so many annoying sounds with her presence. How can she make that much noise in front of my eyes and why were they so heightened. They were bangs and shuffles and paper crunch and jar closing noises. Like I told her several times nicely to stop! I can’t hear the tv. And already bc I have to speak out to her underdeveloped brain I was again missing the programme. 

Mums in my room now calmly, like usual utters make sure you put it blah blah so they don’t end up somehow back in the dirty laundry and omdssss it was like bitch why the fuck are you even talking since you came up. I’m mad rn and you’re bursting my fucking bubble again. I was hanging on by a fucking thread and could have gone to bed mad with all that shit I was feeling about her but noooo she came up talking in such a calm manner while I'm so mad and dying the fuck inside. And calm talk when I’m fucking mad coming from the person I’m mad at and especially from my mother again pisses me of like a knife to the gut. My anger and level of resentment it ain’t normal so don’t tp me over the fucking edge but ya did didn't ya! these days breathing even pisses me off so imagine my mother fs. Anyways she now says to me in a subtle manner don’t be angry and just like that, I’ve lost it. I just said something automatically back. I said WHY YOU ALWAYS IN MY STUFF she goes.. who? I say YOUUUU, DONT EVER TOUCH MY SHIT AND STAY OUT IF IT WHY YOU ALWAYS TOUCHING IT AND DONT EVER TOUCH WHATVER IS MINE IN MY ROOM AGAIN Like I’m so mad man bc wtf when I entered my room beforehand I knew instantly shit was touched. My resentment mingled with emotions of anger is mega mega heavy when my shits touched by anyone. Especially this little shit and my mum bc that’s when shit goes missing, things are mistaken for rubbish and then things are misplaced. I don’t like that shit. I don’t. I don’t like it. It pisses me off in a different way. Do not touch my shit. Like noooo I don’t carrrreeee, if you think it’s rubbish I don’t caaaree leavveeeeee it motherfuckering alooooneeee. I don’t care if there’s a dead rat laying in the centre of my room. Do. not. fucking. move. it. My mum yeah comes in and does what she likes. I noticed some things that were different from last I saw it and something that didn’t mean much that I kept she threw away the other day and I picked it up again bc I could have added it to a rubbish collection of mine and today it’s gone again. Are you dumbbbbbb when I noticed that amongst a couple other things like earlier she had my sibling bring down a handful of my Nike socks to put in the wash FUCK SAKE what? Fuckk off now, no! Do nooot dooo that! OMDS fs I was so mad and agitated I don’t like it man like I don’t I could cry. I can’t tell you why it deeply bothers me but it does so please do not touch my shit fucking hell! I don’t care if it’s dirty. I’ll handle it bc I literally decide when to take it down for a wash and until I make that decision and you done it for me? no that's not okay. idk why I get this deep angered feeling man but just fuck off. Then a mention from her the other day saying why do I keep my room so junked with condiments shoved with shit inside, like keep less. And that came about in my head during all this madness so that added to today’s events and why in a burst of anger I said why do you touch my stuff etcetera. She never said nothing and just went down because she knew I was mad now. To her over nothing but to me over fucking everything. It’s a whole days worth of built up anger man and I don’t have the will to go on telling you everything on why I’m mad toward you bc I’ll breakdown form it all and I really don’t want to bc you happen to be my fucking mother and I don’t like later regretting the very true shit I’d say in this state. But it kills not to as I  bottle it up and feel the pain of these unsaid things. better me than you though. 

I balled my eyes out just before writing all this bc I was angry I could not. Got that fucking pain in my neck from holding back the cry. Like reading through it sounds like why did I get so mad and cry about it all. But it was a whole days worth of built up anger and other little things through out so I stood there then in my room for a moment then with all the anger and mean words inside me that I wanted to say out loud that I couldn’t therefore didn’t. I was just feeling it all. Then my dad came up saying whats up, am I mad and stuff like tell me. I kept saying nothing and that each time he said something to me. Bc obviously he heard my tantrum thrown at my mum. Heck the whole house heard. I didn’t scream or yell thaaat loud but it was me in the house who was being angry and throwing a fit today. So yeah after dad left my room door almost closed I sat and I cried silently. I just hate so many things about my mum man. I don’t even think hate is the right word. I just don't wanna be her anything. She is what makes me tick most. The things she says to me about all things and even about me. Like I don’t care. I don’t want to hear it. If I hear it I just get mad I don’t get hurt. or maybe I do get hurt and subliminal ignore the hurt and instantaneously replace it with emotion of severe anger with a lot of resentment. Like it just bothers me I can’t be myself bc she’ll throw the biggest fit and occasionally cry bc you’ll feel so shameful of your daughter being anyway that you don’t want or approve of. Like that’s why i hide so much of me already and have to leave the house before she catches a glimpse of me and come home making sure the same thing. I tread carefully around my mum bc she will throw the ugliest and meanest fits that I cannot allow her to feel or cause vibes in the house bc of. Like it’s too much. So if there’s anything I can do to help that than I will hide and be who I am. It’s all so complicated man. last thing I did was get up before getting in bed and slam my door shut so she can hear know I'm maaaad. it felt good. Hope it have her a shock. 

Like idek why I run to my blog. I just had to let it all out somewhere and I hadn’t cried in forever so that was something.

I’m fucking hungry too. I barely ever eat and there’s nothing to eat. Nothing appetises me at all

Fuck I still feel shit