#I’m not done with the show but I hope they keep playing with her flaws

[feything-n-frothing]

Unicorn Academy headcanons (purely for fun)!

I think it would’ve been so cool if the show gave them specific disciplines + tack when they got their magical personality-based clothing/tack ! I gave her western tack - it’ll be harder to do jumps, but I think being a bit unsafe is fairly in-character.

Sophia edition:

Eyebags from frequently sneaking out at night, all rebellious style… she will refuse to sleep solely to avoid ‘wasting free time’

Likes to be comfortable, rides bareback or western - she’s not very used to English, since she learned western first on her family’s ranch

Plays the guitar. Badly <3

Kind of mean, simply in an uncaring + snappy way. She’s recovering! …she just hasn’t socialized with peers in a while, much less friends

Also realized she liked girls very early on, and is in a bit of denial about actually being bi… so now she’s a (slowly) recovering misandrist! (This is mainly based off her treatment of Rory being especially hostile early on- especially since he’s a fellow rule-breaker, making her frustration with him fascinatingly hypocritical)

Bonus for Wildstar : I think she’d be an Appaloosa (maybe a draft mix?) in horse terms, to account for more obvious star patterns.

And I think she gets along with Sofia because she’s also a bit overly independent, bold, and abrasive

They WILL learn to cooperate! It’s a group effort here.

[fruit-clans-clangen]

Moon 1

01/07/01

Flightsky chased Cobrakit around the camp. Cobrakit laughed as he chased her. Flightsky tried to focus on playing with Cobrakit but his mind was somewhere else. His dream he had a couple days ago is still fresh in his mind. 

He caught up to Cobrakit. “Tag!” He said, trying to sound happy for her sake. 

“Nooo!” Cobrakit screamed, playfully. “Okay, it’s your turn to hide!”

Flightsky sighed. Greenpaw, who was staring off into space, was sitting near them. Behind her he could see Waterpelt and Strawberrystar talking. He listened in on their conversation. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Waterpelt asked. “No clan has ever done it before.” 

“That’s why I want to try it.” Strawberrystar insisted. “If we don’t try we’ll never know if it works.” 

“Got you!” Flightsky turned and Cobrakit leaped on top of him. “Why didn’t you hide?” She asked him. Greenpaw walked over from where she was sitting. 

“How ‘bout you leave Flightsky alone, I’ll play with you instead.” She told Cobrakit. Flightsky got up and smiled at her gratefully. He shook out his pelt and walked over to Waterpelt and Strawberrystar to join their conversation. 

Strawberrystar saw him coming and raised his tail in greeting. “Hey, Flightsky.” He said. 

Flightsky sat down and asked “What are you guys talking about?” 

“My idea about marriage.” Strawberrystar responded. “Waterpelt doesn’t seem to think it’s a good idea.” 

“I’m just saying there are many flaws in it.” Waterpelt growled. “It just complicates things.” 

“What do you find to be flaws?” Flightsky asked in a calm voice. 

“Well, to start.” Waterpelt thought for a minute. “What if the cats break up? What do they do then?” 

“They can get divorced.” Strawberrystar responded. 

“And how would that work?” Waterpelt asks. Strawberrystar thought. “They would tell the leader they want to be divorced and then silently spread the news around the clan. And that’s that.”

“How do they get married?” Waterpelt asked next. This time Strawberrystar was quick to respond. “Well, first, one cat proposes to the other. If the other cat says yes then they tell their leader and the ceremony will be scheduled for sometime the next moon. At the gathering they can invite the other clans to come too. The leader will officiate the wedding and they get married. They can also choose to take one of the others' name.”

“How does changing a name work?” Waterpelt asked, confused. 

“So, say you have two cats named, um,” Strawberrystar thought for a minute. “Frostwhisker and Leafpelt. When they get married they can choose to keep their names the same or change them. When they change their names their prefix stays the same, but Frostwhisker can change to Frostpelt or Leafpelt can change to Leafwhisker. If the two have kits they can also choose to have their kits take the name too.” 

“And how does the kit taking the name work? What if they have five kits? Do all of them take their name?” Waterpelt asked. 

Strawberrystar was ready to respond, expecting that Waterpelt would ask that. “I imagine that before their warrior ceremony the family talks and the kits can decide if they want to take a name. If their parents didn’t take each other's names then nobody would take another name.”

“What if the kits don’t have married parents?” Waterpelt asked next. 

“Then they don’t take a name either.” Strawberrystar answered. 

“What about leaders?” Waterpelt continued. “Their names have to end in 'star, so would their mate take ‘star as a name?”

“That’s the only exception. When the leader gets married both cats keep their name.” 

“What if there’s another cat in the clan with the same suffix, do you just change their name too?” Waterpelt asked with a smug expression on his face, hoping to catch Strawberrystar this time. 

“No, they get to keep their name. It doesn’t really matter if another unrelated cat has the same name. It’s basically just a gesture to show how devoted they are to each other or if they want a legacy name, you know?” Strawberrystar told him. 

There was a pause for a heartbeat until Strawberrystar asked, “Anything else?” 

Waterpelt shook his head. “It’s settled then.” Strawberrystar puffed his chest. “I’ll ask the other clans about it at the gathering!”

[anonymousewrites]

Of Sensibility and Swords (Mulan AU Megumi x Reader)

Chapter Two: Reflection

            (Y/N) fled to the garden of Nanami’s house before she had to face him. She had dishonored his name; she couldn’t look him in the face after that. Under the light of the growing evening (the process of getting ready and matchmaking had taken all day), (Y/N) sat down dejectedly by the small stream in the garden.

            She frowned at her reflection—her face done up with makeup, her hair in a proper style. She looked correct, but she was still flawed. (Y/N) just couldn’t be what she was supposed to.

(Y/N) “Look at me, I will never pass for a perfect bride, Or a perfect daughter.”

            She looked up at the moon coming out from behind a cloud as if begging the world for answers to why she could not fit in.

(Y/N) “Can it be, I’m not meant to play this part?”

            (Y/N) stood and slipped her moonstone out of her obi, holding it to her heart, wishing it would guide her like Utahime said.

(Y/N) “Now I see, That if I were truly to be myself, I would break my family’s heart.”

            She walked through the garden by the side of the stream, watching as her reflection moved with her. It was odd to see the image of what the world wanted her to be and feel so disconnected with it. It made (Y/N) feel uncomfortable in her skin because she knew she could never really be that graceful, poised, proper woman.

(Y/N) “Who is that girl I see, Staring straight back at me? Why is my reflection, Someone I don’t know?”

            (Y/N) walked into the shrine of her ancestors. The polished metal plates inscribed with names reflected (Y/N)’s face again, and she swallowed.

(Y/N) “Somehow I cannot hide, Who I am, Though I’ve tried…”

            She bowed to her ancestors respectfully as she sought answers in their presence, hoping they’d give her guidance on how to honor Nanami and make him proud.

(Y/N) “When will my reflection show, Who I am—”

            With her sleeve, she wiped off part of her makeup. The difference between her face and the face society wanted on her was stark in the candlelight of the temple.

(Y/N) “—inside?”

            She wiped the other side off, leaving her bare in both heart and face before the rising moon and her ancestors. The many metal tombstones reflected her face back a dozen times. (Y/N) reached up and released her hair from its formal hairstyle, letting it fall around her face.

(Y/N) “When will my reflection show, Who I am inside?”

            She turned from the makeshift mirrors and left the temple, unable to keep looking at her face of failure. She walked down to the cherry tree and sat down underneath it, gazing up as the moon rose as the sun set.

            Nanami, with his black and white spotted cane, walked up behind her. “The moon and stars are going to look beautiful tonight. Yes, the moon is not full yet, but once it is, it will shine brighter than any of the stars up there.”

            (Y/N) glanced up at Nanami, who smiled slightly at her. (Y/N) let her own lips quirk upwards at the encouragement of her father.

            Nanami opened his mouth to speak again but was interrupted as the sound of drums echoed from the village entrance to their garden. Exchanging glances, the father and daughter walked to see what was happening.

            Outside their home, at the entrance of the village, a group of messengers from the emperor were preparing to make an important announcement. Nanami stepped out from their garden, but Utahime, who had been waiting for the pair to appear again, held (Y/N) back. It would not do to get in these men’s way, especially since one of the men was Zenin Naoya. He was a top advisor to the emperor and was well known for his ruthlessness and his extremely traditional beliefs on women’s roles.

            (Y/N) frowned at being held back but peeked out round Utahime to watch what was happening.

            “Citizens, I bring a proclamation from the Emperor!” announced Naoya. “The bandits of the North, the ‘Curses,’ have invaded!” The townspeople gasped. “By order of the Emperor, one man from every family must serve in the Imperial Army.” He cleared his throat. “The Hisao family.” A young man stepped forward and bowed. “The Yi family.”

            An old man began to step forward, but his son stopped him. “I will serve the Emperor in my father’s place.”

            “The Nanami family,” continued Naoya as he reached the end of the line.

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened. Nanami was a good fighter, but with the injury he had sustained when he was younger, he couldn’t move properly without his cane. In a battle against curses…(Y/N) didn’t want to consider what could happen.

            But Nanami had already leaned his cane against the garden wall and was walking towards Naoya to take the scroll of conscription.

            “I am ready to serve the Emperor,” said Nanami, kneeling.

            “No, Father,” said (Y/N), reaching out for him as Utahime held her from going father. “You can’t. Not with your leg.”

            The townspeople gasped at (Y/N)’s bold frankness. She had been blunt and opiniated lately, but this…this was to a government official with real power. It was highly improper not (Y/N)’s place at all.

            Naoya raised an eyebrow condescendingly. He looked at (Y/N) but didn’t address her, speaking instead to Nanami like a woman wasn’t even worth talking to. “You should teach your daughter to hold her tongue in a man’s presence.”

            “(Y/N),” murmured Nanami. “This is not the time.” He was not scolding her, but he was warning her of how she could be punished by Naoya for “disrespect.”

            “You will all report to the Shibuya Camp tomorrow,” said Naoya before turning and leaving.

            (Y/N) curled her hand into a fist as she watched Nanami take the scroll and walk back with a slight limp. She couldn’t let this happen. She couldn’t let him go to war. She couldn’t let him die.

            Not without doing anything.

l

            (Y/N) watched through the crack of Nanami’s door as he opened a cabinet and examined his armor and katana. She furrowed her brow in worry as he practiced his moves and fumbled each time an act affected his leg.

            She was unable to push away her concern even as they quietly ate dinner that night. The air was heavy with the knowledge that Nanami would be leaving in a few hours for training for war.

            “You shouldn’t have to go,” said (Y/N) finally. “There are plenty of young men who can fight for Japan.”

            Nanami sighed. “It is my responsibility to protect the country and civilians like you.”

            “But your leg…You’ll die,” murmured (Y/N), eyes wide with worry.

            Nanami’s eyes softened. “(Y/N)…You know I must. It is my duty. This is my place.”

            “But why?!” pleaded (Y/N). “I could fight instead! Like that other boy, I could take your place. Then you wouldn’t have to—”

            “No!” said Nanami. He was angry at the idea of (Y/N) fighting. He didn’t want her to be in such danger. “That is not your place! It is mine.”

            Upset at how incorrigible Nanami was being and how difficult it was to feel like they were saying goodbye, (Y/N) stood and left the room, her emotions too much to deal with.

            Outside in the garden, (Y/N) curled up under the cherry tree in the moonlight, holding her knees to her chest as she tried not to lose control of her emotions, which had become a chaotic storm in her chest and mind.

            I can’t let him do this.

            She started. She didn’t have to let him. She looked up at the moon.

            Nanami, I promise I’ll make sure you don’t have to risk yourself.

            (Y/N) walked into the temple of her ancestors and bowed.

            I know I am a stain to the family. I know I may dishonor you and Nanami. But I have to do this. I have to protect him. She traced her crescent moon birthmarks in a comforting motion. This is the only thing I’m good at. So even if the world says I’m not meant for it, I have to. Even if just to make sure Nanami can stay here, stay safe.

            With just moonlight marking her movements, (Y/N) stole into the storage room of Nanami’s armor as he slept. She unsheathed the katana and took a deep breath. There was no going back. She was going to do this.

            (Y/N) sliced through her hair, turning it to a boyish haircut. She carefully donned the armor and strapped the katana to her side. The moon reflected off the metal as if it was glowing from within.

            If I cannot do this as a woman, I will pretend to be a man.

l

            Nanami awoke to the sound of the gates swinging open. It was still black outside, but he grabbed a lantern and ran out. Hoofprints showed a trail out the garden. A sickening feeling forming in the pit of his stomach, Nanami ran to his storage room. The cabinet lay empty. He raced to (Y/N)’s room and threw open the door.

            No one. The bed lay unslept in.

            “No…” he breathed, falling to his knees. “No, (Y/N)…” Nanami wanted to run, wanted to cry for help chasing after his daughter. But he knew the truth. She was impersonating a man. If she were to be revealed…she’d be killed for it.

            So Nanami did the only thing he could. He sat under the moonlight and prayed to the spirits above that (Y/N) would be protected. That she would be strong. That she would come home to him alive.

l

            In the temple, the moonlight set the tombstones aglow. In the murky light, the ruling spirits of the Nanami and (L/N) family appeared. The shrines had been combined after (Y/N)’s biological parents passed and Nanami took her in as a baby, so now ghosts of both families appeared togther.

            Nox, (Y/N)’s father, stretched as his fellow spirits appeared. He tapped the candleholder beside his head, a silvery-blue carving of a dragon. “Gojo, awaken.”

            A small white with supernaturally blue eyes burst out from within the silver carving and fell to the floor. “I live!” he cried dramatically. “So, tell me what mortal needs my protection, great ancestor?! You just say the word, and I’m there.”

             “Gojo…” sighed (M/N), (Y/N)’s mother.

            “And let me say something,” continued Gojo. “Anybody who’s foolish enough to threaten the Nanami or (L/N) family will feel my wrath! HAHA!”

            “Gojo!” interrupted Nanami’s predecessor. He gestured to the other statues perched above the tombstones. “These are the family guardians. Not you. You…”

            “Ring the gong,” muttered Gojo. “And call any guardians you need.”

            “Which you need to,” said (M/N). “We must send someone for (Y/N).”

            Nanami’s ancestor scoffed. “I knew she’d be a troublemaker from the moment Kento took her in.”

            “She’s trying to help him,” said Nox.

            “But if she’s discovered, she will bring dishonor to both our family names!” cried Nanami’s father.

            “I’d be proud of her either way,” said (M/N).

            “Traditional values would disintegrate!” cried Nanami’s father.

            (M/N) shrugged.

            “It doesn’t matter, because either way, we must help her,” said Nox, logic sound as ever. “We must for both the family’s sake and her own.”

            Nanami’s predecessor grumbled but nodded. “For the family.

            (M/N) nodded. “For (Y/N).”

            Nox turned to Gojo. “Go, awaken the most powerful guardian of all.” He pointed to the large dragon statue in the garden. “Awaken the Great Stone Dragon.”

            Gojo huffed, frustrated that they wouldn’t trust him with doing this, but he walked out into the garden (he couldn’t exactly argue with Nox, though).

            “Just one chance, is that too much to ask?” he muttered to himself as he walked to the Great Stone Dragon. “I mean, it’s not like it’d kill ya.” He banged the gong to try to wake up the guardian. “Alright, you dumb hunk of rocks! Get up! You have to go fetch (Y/N).” No reply. Gojo sighed dramatically. “It always fall back on me to do more work.” He banged the gong more aggressively. “Wake up, dragon! Get up at ‘em!” Gojo smacked his stick against the dragon’s side to forcefully wake it up.

            Crack

            “Uh, oh.”

            Gojo’s bright blue eyes widened as cracks splintered up the side of the statue. He held his breath, hoping maybe, just maybe, nothing would happen.

            Crack

            One more spiderweb fracture appeared, and the whole statue crumbled to pieces before Gojo’s eyes. The head lay before him in a pile of rubble.

            “Oh, no.” He looked at the shrine upon the hill, but no one had come out to check, so they hadn’t noticed yet. “Oh, shit, they’re gonna kill me if they see this.”

            “Great Dragon, have you awoken?” asked Nanami’s predecessor, appearing at the window.

            Thinking quickly, Gojo lifted the dragon head up from behind the bushes. “Uh, uh…Oh, yeah, I had a great nap, but I’m, uh, up now!” Please believe this, otherwise I’m fucked!

            Miraculously, Nanami’s ancestor did not question it. “Go out and fetch (Y/N).”

            “Oh, yes, of course, yes sir,” said Gojo from underneath the stone head. The spirit turned from the window, retreating with his companions to their tombstones. Gojo breathed a sigh of relief and threw the head to the side. “Well, this is just fantastic. What do I do now?” he wondered. “(Y/N) is out playing dress-up to get herself killed, and now I’m gonna get killed because the Great Stone Dragon is dead and there isn’t anyone to get her!”

            Gojo flopped onto his back as the sun began to rise. “Worst night ever. It’s not as if I can go get here.” He blinked and sat up. “Wait! Haha, that’s perfect! I can bring her back! And then I’ll be declared the strongest guardian!” Gojo made a face. “I just have to make sure (Y/N) doesn’t get herself killed. And she’s not the best at acting normal. This is gonna be hard.”

[zylophie]

halooo~ i saw the matchup event and i’d like to give it a try! may i request a project sekai matchup? (both matchups if it’s ok!! both normal and yan) thanks a lot and i’ll be awaiting my date 😋😋

preferred gender: both works!

personality traits:

im an ambivert that’s pretty emotional.(i cry easily…) i can be quite self-conscious and sensitive at times even if i don’t realise it myself. im also a nostalgic person that keeps memories dear in my heart!! i love looking back to the past to giggle about the stupid old times. i’d say im pretty lazy myself, but if i ever decided to do something, i’d try my best to do it well. i’m kind of the mum of the group, as i have a tendency to care for others around me. i show my childish side with those i trust however. i’m the type to live in the moment and it’s my motive to try not to leave any regrets.

hobbies:

im on my phone quite a lot ,, i like gaming and reading manhwas. i also write a diary and play the ukulele! idk i’m trying to find more hobbies but school doesn’t seem to allow me to.. (there’s. so much school work….)

love langauge:

quality time for both giving and receiving!! i think time is crucial in any relationship. i also give words of affirmation and i think physical touch is cute!

(not so) fun facts:

- i’m deathly terrified of insects. of any kind. the only one kind that i’m brave enough to kill are ants

- i love rollar coasters but hate haunted houses. i live for the excitement of rollar coasters but i hate being jumpscared..

- i love doing personality tests.. i kept sending them to my friends i think they’re done with me /joke

- i’m a realist but i’m also capable of making up tons of scenarios in my heart for my friends

- i love analysing ppl close to me

things u look for in a person:

i think i tend to get along with tons of ppl but id love someone that’s responsible! i want someone that will love me for who i am and accept my flaws. i wish that we can both rely on each other. i’d also like someone who’s treats me specially compared with the outer world ..?!?

things u don’t look for in a person:

irresponsible people. those who always wishes to be in control of a particular solution one-sidely. and people who takes things for granted idk😞

i’m sorry this is so long!! thank u for listening to my ramble fr and getting to know me 😭😭 my brain suddenly malfunctioned and i forgot how to speak proper english … but dear mods, i hope u both have a nice day and wishing u the best~ rmb to take care of urself!!

"૮₍ •⤙•˶|💌 ᴮᵉᵉᵖ..! ᵒⁿᵉ ᵐᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉˎˊ˗

✉! .•°⟡˚ ༘ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵐᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʸᵘᵉ !

⌨️ᶻᶻᶻ...yue is typing... ♡

↻ᴹᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉ ˡᵒᵃᵈᵉᵈ !

꒰ʜɪɪ ʜɪɪ, ʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴀᴛᴇ?꒱ 🎐~*

❛❛,,𝐎ᵖᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵃⁱˡ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʷʰᵒ ⁱˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ!,,❜❜

▶• ılıılılılılıılılılılı. 0 ⁿᵒʷ ᵖˡᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ... Project Sekai!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡ɴᴏʀᴍᴀʟ ᴍᴀᴛᴄʜᴜᴘ♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖᵃⁱʳ ⁱˢ... Aoyagi Toya!♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Toya adore your caring and hard working nature but he also thinks it's cute that you seem to have a childish side like he just wants to cuddle with you all day if he could!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Game Night is one of your night dates with him, being competitive in a fighting or racing game while leaning on each other with a blanket wrap around you two? Definitely one of the best sweet moments!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He saw that you write a diary for personal use, he thought it's would be great if you two share a diary and leaving comments for each other to read later on

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He like reading like a lot, so if you would recommend some good manhwa to him, he would definitely try them out since it's your hobby, it's definitely mean it's an interesting read if it's coming from you!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴍᴀᴛᴄʜᴜᴘ♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖᵃⁱʳ ⁱˢ...Otori Emu!♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Emu is always quick to notice your moods, her first idea was trying multiple methods of cheering you up because when you're smiling is the moment your beauty shine the most !

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Amusement park dates are a must!! It's practically her second home and the fact you like roller coasters? Even better! She always wants to drag you to many thrilling rides because it's so much fun when she hang out with you the most

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Emu love taking pictures with you every single moment you two are together, she wants to cherish those sweet little memories with you so the two of you can look back on those memories with so much fondness !

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ You can play an ukulele ?? She freak out because she didn't know you were good at playing the instrument, Emu would definitely keep bothering you to teach her how to play so she get more quality time with you, it's a win win for her!

✿ — ↠ NOTE : It's okay xD I don't mind rambling at all ! I personally like rambling since it's help me with your matchup results hehe~ I hope you like the results <33

[chibi-pix]

Chibi watches V3D 15

Time for an episode of Voltron: The Third Dimension!

Fifty billion inhabitants in the moon-cities!?!?! No thanks. That is way too people-y for me. Oh look, it’s Haggar. Bringing to life robot dinosaur things. I mean. It’s effective. “Yes, by all means, go away. Far away.” Yeah, I feel that on a daily basis with folks. I love the Voltron force, but dudes, I feel like I’m vibing with the space witch more.

Yeah sure, strike a black hole to mess with the gamma energy or whatever. That sounds safe. I get that it seemed to go well for the team, but still. It does not feel safe. Well, whatever. It worked.

I don’t trust Lotor with a white flag… Oh look, he wants to return Zarkon. Can’t he just keep him? “I’m in agreement with blue boy here.” Lotor, was that a reference to Lance’s uniform having been blue back in DotU? Or is he just colour blind and thinks red looks blue? Allura’s plea for Lotor to not attack the Troika moons because there are innocent folks and children there. Honey? Did you really expect him to reconsider at that? Sweetie, bless your heart.

Amalgamus really considering the destruction of the robot lions. Does he not remember the trial? It’s been pointed out that, more or less, Voltron doesn’t belong to the alliance or serve it. They serve the universe. Jeez. Someone scrap this calculator. Oh wow. This show actually says the word “massacre”?! A children’s show actually says that word?! I’m amazed.

“Will the alliance leaders decide to destroy the Voltron lions?” They have no right. Right? The lions aren’t theirs to do with as they please. And these people are dense, ready to make the sacrifice. Do they really think if the lions were destroyed that Lotor will just turn over a new leaf, be good, and no longer attack anyone? They have not seen many shows to think it’s a good idea. Bad guys NEVER play fair.

Pidge reminding Amalgamus that the lions don’t belong to him, but to Arus. Yeah! You tell him, Pidgey! Oh… Allura is ready to turn the lioons over. And Lance being pissed about things. It’s intriguing that Lance feels that they’re betraying the lions by turning them over to be destroyed. And you know what? He’s right. Honestly, I side with Lance on the matter big time.

Poor Red having to be towed. Almost seventeen minutes in, I really hope that even without her pilot, Red decides to act out, refusing to give up. C’mon, baby! Reflect your pilot! Follow his lead and not be down with this bullshit! “I keep thinking that somehow someone’s gonna stop it.” Hunk, babe. Lance is unaccounted for, with reasons, and the lions might be sentient? If Lance isn’t secretly in Red ready to cause trouble and be defiant, then I bet the lions are gonna make their opinions on the matter known. Oh, Lance wasn’t in Red at the moment. But he’s definitely fighting to defend her! Good job, Lance! Show that loyalty! Lance getting shot down, my draw dropped. And Lance is pissed with the others, calling them ex-friends.

Okay, watching the lions be wrecked and dismantled, I actually feel like I wanna cry. “What have I done?” I dunno, Allura. Maybe just betrayed the lions who were nothing but loyal and faithful to you guys and doomed the universe?

Oh. Voltron lights just shot off. Hoo boy… I wonder where they went.

Yeah, it’s no surprise that Lotor’s fleet is turning back around and not gonna be destroyed. Amalgamus should have seen this coming. He. Is. Flawed. Stupid calculator.

The team better find a way to make things up to Lance and then find out where those lion lights went and make it up to them and get them back. Otherwise? Bye bye Alliance HQ.

Okay, all in all? I'm intrigued. I may have a vague idea of what kinda happens in the next episode due to some clips shown in the past in a discord server, but, we'll see on the next time I watch an episode. Also, as much as I vibe with Haggar's little comments, I also vibe with Lance's wit and logic. The man holds the brain cell it seems. Good for him.

Anyway, that's it for the night. Until next time!

[bigtreefest]

Omg, I’m feeling so many things. So I’m gonna give my play-by-play thoughts. Followed by question answers. All below this cut bc spoilers.

Sharon is probs getting off to either reader or Steve for sure instead of Ari. Why else would she be so vague?

Curtis sucks. Can’t believe he’s pretty much as bad as Ari was

Lol I hate to say this but reader really did develop a brain independent of Ari finally and I’m proud of her for that

Ari’s silent comforting over the Steve date gone wrong?? He’s growing🥺

Poor reader is so messed up she may never trust another man again

“What’s it going to take to show you that I care about you? Because I’ll do it.” Ari so sweet

And way to undo it with your texts, Ari

Steve is so much nicer over text

Reader really did mentally mature at rapid speed. I agree

Good for reader on saying she’s done with Steve. These men have gotten too comfortable getting whatever they want and not caring about the women they affect

Bestie should’ve goaded Steve into explaining what Ari has done that she doesn’t know

I love the imagery of the weather being a new era. Poor thing is all cooped up tho

Omg talking about the banquet dates, Sharon is definitely getting off to reader

Ari with the picnic basket🥺🥺

Even tho Ari kidnapped her I feel like he’s trying so hard to be good to her

Lol Ari calling it “the nature or whatever”😂

Lol more “plants and shit”

He’s trying so hard

Not Ari’s obsession with Levinson babies and the cheese sandwiches😭😂🫠

But I do love them planning a future together

Omg I love the begging for a kiss and then allowing her to turn away and accepting what he can get (I’m aware the bar is in hell)

I can’t believe reader still thinks of Steve so often. What is it about him???

Thanks for the cheese sandwiches😌

Steve flipping off the tree😂

It makes me so sad that Steve seems more sane drunk than sober

I’m so proud of reader for speaking up and saying she doesn’t know how to act around Steve

But I’m also really mad about both Ari and Steve still keeping secrets and I know it has to do with Kira!!

Noooo. Bestie, you were doing so well. 😭 why did you kiss Steve???? But tbh I could tell she’s been longing for him this whole time. But fr, I’m not sure it’s good that kissing her makes Steve feel numb vs but not necessarily good

And Ari’s little text before the banquet is adorably down bad

Oh Curtis is def cheating on Wanda and she’s so blind to it

Carla sucks but what else is new

Ari has matured so much, trying to placate Sharon

Ari’s in love with her!?!?

Reader has a good point that it takes trauma for Ari to admit things

I knew Ari hurt Kira, and sending the nudes is so awful

And I can’t believe Steve and Ari were friends🥺🥺

Poor Steve. I hope the ambulance isn’t too late!!

For the questions:

1. Picnic all the way, although, they’ve both really got their flaws, but it was good to see both men being a little more vulnerable than we’ve seen in the past

2. Carla is a mess, and Curtis doesn’t help that fact

3. I think Sharon reacted properly and was probably so mad bc she had built up this grand persona for reader of being a great person and also probs has a crush

4. There’s def more to the story of Kira’s nudes. I mean, everyone on the team seems awful. Could’ve been any of them

5. Team no one, which is crazy because I’ve been so steadfast team Ari up until this point. You can tell Ari really cares and I think he’s genuinely changed, but he’s still got these moments where he’s controlling and underestimating of reader and that hurts. Steve is so sweet, but only in select moments, otherwise he’s such a live wire. But the thing is, while reader likes looking at Ari and the way she feels when he looks at her all sweet, it seems like she only feels compelled towards Steve when apart from both of them. The unequal draw of reader’s emotions is interesting and idk how it’ll come into play. I genuinely hope Steve is okay. All these people need a long season of singleness because all they do is hurt each other in these interpersonal relationships😭😭

𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒☆.｡.:*

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐕 - 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mean jock!Ari Levinson x naive!reader, mean jock!Steve Rogers x naive reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smutt, dubcon, daddy!kink, size difference, innocence kink, HEAVY MENTIONS OF ALCOHOL AND DRUG CONSUMPTION, mentions of depression, mentions of self-medication, seriously, if you're sensitive about that kind of stuff please do not read, 18+ only, minors dni!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You're done with both Ari and Steve. But they're not quite done with you...

𝐀/𝐍: Here it is. Again, I'm putting up a disclaimer: Please beware of the strong mentions of irresponsible alcohol and drug consumption in this chapter. Also be aware of the depictions of depression in this chapter. Stay safe & only read what you are comfortable with. This is a dark story. This is chapter 4 of Wicked Games. It is 33.6k words. Enjoy, besties!

Steve: Hey. Look, I’m really sorry about what happened yesterday. Things got out of control and I really did not mean to scare you. Could we talk in person?

Steve: I did plan a date for us. I know you don’t believe me, but I did. For whatever that’s worth. Look, just text me back, okay? Or answer my calls.

Steve: Sometimes I just get like that. Even if you don’t understand, just reply and say you’ll talk to me. I’ll explain everything. Please.

Steve: Can’t you see I’m trying? I want us to work.

Steve: It wasn’t just about sex to me. I know that’s what it looked like but it wasn’t.

Steve: ?????

Each time your phone pings with a new text, you feel a stronger urge to just throw it out the window. Oh, why couldn’t he just leave you alone? You feel awful and on edge, the night’s sleep had done you absolutely no good. You’d tossed and turned the whole time, crying and feeling sad about how terribly your “date” had gone down yesterday. How you’d been used. How it was all just about sex for him, no matter what he claimed.

Your phone starts pinging again.

Ari: Are you okay?

Ari: You need to tell me exactly what he did to you. I’ll set him straight, I promise. I just need to know what he did.

Ari: You were really worked up yesterday so I gave you your space but I’m worried. And pissed off. Just answer me.

Ari: Pick up your phone.

Ari: I’m coming over.

No, no, no. You don’t want him to come over. You don’t want to see either of them. To hell with their mood swings and cocky egos and fake concern for you. Now you know there was only one thing that men like Ari and Steve truly ever wanted from you – sex. Fuck them both. If Ari came over now, you’d scream your head off and not let him in again.

You were done. Completely and irrevocably done. Not just with Ari and Steve, but with men and relationships in general. You were going to make a solemn vow to yourself that from now on, that–

A sudden knocking on your door interrupts your thoughts. Pressing your lips into a thin line, you feel the anger surge through you. Who the fuck was that? Ari? He’d only just sent his last message a minute ago – how was he already here?

A wave of anxiety overtakes you suddenly… What if it was Steve?

Another knock. But it sounds a lot softer than Ari’s usual loud banging – which was what he did on days where he’d forget your dorm key at home.

“Y/N?” You hear a faint, familiar voice from the other side of the door. “Are you there?”

Huh. That was definitely not Steve or Ari…

It takes you about five seconds to haul yourself off your bed and across the room. You open the door cautiously, only to find Sharon standing there. Her face is swollen, red and blotchy, her shiny and usually pristinely styled hair scraped back in a low, sad ponytail. Not a trace of makeup on her face, and she’s wearing a loose, wrinkled St. Andrews sweatshirt instead of her usual cheerleading uniform.

“Ari broke up with me!” She bursts into tears, pulling you into a hug that you have no choice but to return. And the guilt is immediate, spreading throughout your body, thrumming through your bloodstream along with dread. Of course, you knew Ari had dumped her… for you.

“Oh, Sharon…” you mumble against her sweatshirt, a huge lump forming in your throat, “I’m so, so sorry.” Sorrier than you realise…

Sharon sniffles, “I know we’re not really close, but I just didn’t know who else to talk to about this. All my friends are also his friends, or girlfriends of his friends, and…and…and I just needed someone who was my friend, and not his, and–” She breaks out into a fresh wave of tears, hugging you tightly again, burying her face in your neck as she cries. You awkwardly pat her shoulder, feeling like the world’s worst person.

“Come in,” you say reluctantly. Sure, you had your own problems, but you weren’t just going to leave her crying out in the hallway, were you? Especially not since you were basically the reason for her tears.

She smiles weakly, “Thank you.”

You manage to quickly type out a message to Ari while she isn’t looking:

Sharon’s here. Don’t come over. And stop texting me.

“It just came so out of nowhere,” she says, following you into your room and sitting on the edge of your bed, “Well, we weren’t having sex like how we used to but I just assumed he was stressed about basketball or something.”

“Wait, the two of you weren’t having sex?” You blurt out a tad too eagerly, but she doesn’t seem to notice. You sink down beside her, “I mean… wow… so you guys weren’t being – uh – intimate?”

Sharon shakes her head, using the sleeve of her sweatshirt to wipe her eyes, “Not for, like, the past month. But I really didn’t think he was cheating on me… But he basically told me he was dumping me because there was someone else.”

Your heart jumps up to your throat, “H-He said that?”

“Yeah. Well, at first, he kept saying the whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ crap.” She snorts, aggressively twining a loose strand of her blonde hair round and round her pointer finger, “But I told him to be honest and just tell me straight up, and I was yelling and so upset and finally he said that there was someone else. Can you believe that?”

Your hands feel clammy, the guilt and anxiety churning around in your stomach like a witch’s cauldron. Should you tell her now? Tell her that you’re the reason her boyfriend dumped her? That you’d been sleeping with Ari behind her back for months? Oh God… You were an awful person, weren’t you? Well, you hadn’t known about Sharon at first… and back then you were innocent enough to believe Ari when he said he’d broken up with her. But you’d wisened up to that and still had sex with him at the party, hadn’t you?

You gulp, “Sharon, there’s something–”

“And can you believe that for a split second I thought it was you?” She says suddenly, her eyes wide and unblinking.

Your blood freezes, “I, I–”

“I know, I know… Totally ridiculous, right?” She laughs. And you’d expected her laugh to be all cute and twinkly and perfect how she is, but it’s low and hoarse and ironic. She squeezes your arm, “I hate that my mind even went there. I don’t know you that well but I just know you wouldn’t do that to me, Y/N.”

“Sharon–”

 “It’s just that one time, at that basketball practice when the ball hit your face. The way Ari carried you off… I just got this feeling in my gut, you know?” She laughs again, “But that was just Ari being Ari, stepping up and taking charge of a situation when no one else would. And it’s awful of me to even think you’d do something like that when you’d just got struck in the face and were probably in a lot of pain. Gosh, I’m so sorry for even thinking it!”

She hugs you again. You can smell her sweet perfume, and it goes straight to your head, making you feel sick. Or maybe it’s the guilt eating away at your insides that’s making you feel sick.

“There’s something I have to tell you–”

“–We were together for almost a whole year, you know?” Sharon cuts you off again. “I was gonna take him home for Thanksgiving and everything.” She’s still hugging you, and her cheek rests against the bare nape of your neck. You weren’t used to being this touchy with your girlfriends, but you continue to pat her back nonetheless, feeling like the world’s most awful person ever.

“He’s just the world’s most awful person ever!” She cries, “Like he threw our relationship away like it was nothing! And I was so good to him, Y/N!”

“I know, I know,” you say softly. You feel a wave of disgust for Ari overtake you, but the disgust you feel at yourself overshadows it completely.

“But maybe it’s for the best,” She sits up suddenly, her eyes wide and glistening, an almost daring look on her face, your hand still encased in hers. “Maybe me and Ari weren’t meant to be, and he was just a stupid phase in my life.”

“He’s just a fuckboy,” you agree truthfully, despite feeling rotten over your role in all of this. “You can do so much better than him, Sharon.”

She nods, “Yeah, I think so too. I mean, he’s super hot and all, but…” And then she pauses, looking at you with a curious expression. She bites her lip, still holding on to your hand. “Maybe this is too much information, but lately, even when I was, you know, taking care of myself… I wouldn’t think of him. I’d think of someone else.”

“That’s good!” You say enthusiastically. “Who were you thinking of? Like an actor or singer or something? Or a cute guy in one of your classes?”

She stares at you a bit longer, before suddenly dropping her gaze, “Yeah, something like that. Anyways, thank you so much for being there for me, Y/N. I know I just barged into your room unannounced.”

At that moment, your phone vibrates. Once, twice, three times. More texts. You’re thankful you left your phone facedown; in case they were from Ari and she saw.

“That’s probably Steve, isn’t it?” Sharon says.

You nod quickly, suddenly in a hurry to stop talking about Ari, “Yeah. They’re all from him. He’s been texting me nonstop since last night when me and him had a fight.”

“Oh no. Is everything gonna be okay?”

You shake your head tersely, not wanting to talk about the disastrous date. “No. Me and him are over. Forever.” And so are me and Ari.

Sharon nods, giving you another hug. “Men are trash. I’m so glad we have each other, Y/N. I’m so happy we’re friends now.”

You swallow harshly, hoping the guilt isn’t so evident on your face. Inside your head, there’s about a million different thoughts racing each other. Should you tell her about Ari now? Or wait till later when she was more distanced from the situation and less distraught? Oh God, it was like problems followed you wherever you went! First Steve, then Ari, and now Sharon was in the mix too. And the worst part was, how kind she was being. How genuinely good she was and how she didn’t deserve to be lied to in the least.

I’ll tell her, you promise yourself. I swear I’ll tell her soon…

***

“You need to stop moping around so much,” Wanda says as the two of you walk down the corridor after a lecture. Well, she walks. You just drag your feet. It’s been two days since the “date” with Steve and the subsequent scene with Sharon in your dorm room, and your emotions have been all over the place.

“Like okay, so the Steve thing didn’t work out. It’s not the end of the world, is it? Just get over it.” Wanda continues scanning the crowd of people in the hallway.

“I just feel like nobody wants a relationship with me, Wanda.” You say softly. “All they ever seem to want is sex.”

“Huh? Yeah, that really sucks,” she says distractedly, standing on her tip-toes to look over the sea of heads all milling around or heading to their next class. “Where’s Curtis? He agreed to meet me here.”

Your stomach drops. Curtis again? Oh, you hope Ari’s not with him! You’d successfully been able to avoid him since the night he’d left your dorm room, and you didn’t want to break that streak now.

Wanda spots her boyfriend a moment later and squeals, jumping up and down trying to get his attention. Thankfully, he isn’t with Ari. But he is standing in a cosy corner of the corridor, deep in conversation with a tiny brunette cheerleader. You watch as she laughs at something he said and puts her hand on his chest.

You glance warily at Wanda, but she still has that determined bright smile on her face as she charges over to him, pulling you along with her.

“Curtis! Hey!” She wraps her arms around his neck territorially, plastering her lips on his. The cheerleader smirks, and you see her wink at him before she leaves. Only then does Curtis finally give his girlfriend some attention. You stand there, awkwardly staring at your shoes for the next five minutes while they noisily kiss next to you.

“You still in a bad mood, sweetheart?” Curtis grins once the two of them finally break apart.

“She’s always in a bad mood,” Wanda interjects before you can respond, “Hey, Curtis, you wanna check out the new drive-in theatre downtown? I don’t have any more classes today and I know you don’t either.”

Curtis yawns, “I don’t know. I kinda just wanna chill today.”

“Oh. That’s fine too, I guess. You wanna just grab lunch on campus?”

“Nah. I think I’ll just head back home. I have stuff to do.”

Wanda nods, “Okay, can I come too?”

He shrugs, “Sure. If you must.”

They start towards the exit, and you have no choice but to follow them. But when Wanda stops to talk to one of the girls in her Philosophy class, Curtis shoots you a smirk.

“Sweetheart, why don’t you come back to my place too?”

You frown, “What would I do in your room with you and Wanda?”

The spark in his eye is nothing short of devilish, “I could think of a few things the three of us could get up to.”

“You’re disgusting, Curtis.”

“You sure about that? I have some more of those magic pills you’re such a huge fan of. The three of us could have some fun.” His eyes rake over your body brazenly, and you feel the urge to throw up. So, it was true. All men viewed you as an easy hook-up. A slut. Ari, Steve, now Curtis too.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Wanda is your girlfriend and you should have more respect for her.”

He rolls his eyes, “You’re one to talk about respecting girlfriends.”

The jab stings, especially since it has a ring of truth to it. But you glare up at him nonetheless, “Fuck you.”

“Are you and Ari both perpetually in a bad mood these days or what?”

“I’m not speaking to Ari, so I wouldn’t know what kind of mood he’s in.” You answer curtly.

“He’s in a shitty mood, I’ll tell you that much,” Curtis snorts. “You’d think he’d be over the fucking moon after finally dumping Sharon, but now all he does is glare at his phone because you won’t answer his texts.”

Sure, Ari had been continuously texting and calling you for the past two days, but you’d gotten better at ignoring him. The last text you’d sent him was when you’d told him not to come over because Sharon was there.

“Are we ready to go, babe?” Wanda asks, waving goodbye to the girl from her Philosophy class.

Curtis stretches and grunts, “Yeah, let’s go,” He looks over at you, “You need a lift to wherever you’re headed?”

“No, she doesn’t!” Wanda interjects quickly, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the exit impatiently, “You wanted to be alone, didn’t you, Y/N?”

You shrug, “Sure.”

Watching them leave hand in hand, you stand there in a sea of people – and yet you feel more alone than ever. You know you need to snap out of this funk, but it’s so hard. Even now, as you look around, you can see about five different couples. All happily hanging out, talking, eating lunch together, kissing, holding hands. Would you ever experience anything normal like that?

You’re about to leave when someone grabs your wrist, yanking you sideways. You yelp, barely catching a glimpse of Ari’s brown waves before you’re pulled into an empty corridor.

“Ari! What the fuck–”

“Stop it with the ignoring my texts shit!” He spits out, eyes already blazing, “I’ve been worried sick about you.”

“Let go of me.”

Surprisingly, he does. But he blocks your path with his huge frame, stepping in front of you every time you try to push past him. This continues for a solid minute and a half before you finally huff and give up trying to escape.

“I went to see Steve that night.” Ari says finally.

Your stomach churns at the mention of the blonde’s name.

“I don’t want to hear this.”

“He wasn’t at home. And the other guys in his frat wouldn’t say where he was,” he runs a hand through his hair, “But I’m guessing he was probably hiding out at his parent’s house.”

That was exactly where he was. You knew that.

“Please tell me you didn’t go there.”

Ari regards you closely, as if you’re made out of glass and he’s trying to formulate his sentences as carefully as he can. “I didn’t,” he says finally, sighing, “I was about to, but–”

“Good,” you interrupt, “I don’t need you fighting him or whatever. Not on my behalf.” You narrow your eyes, “How do you even know where his parents’ house is?”

He hesitates, “I don’t know off the top of my head, but I would’ve found out.” He grabs your hands, his blue eyes looking earnest, which is a look you aren’t used to seeing on him at all. “He’s clearly avoiding me, but look, the sooner you tell me what exactly happened between you and him, the sooner I’ll deal with it.”

From over his shoulder, you see a group of cheerleaders walk by. In a panic, you snatch your hands away from him. Was Sharon with them? Had she seen you with him? No. She wasn’t there. And yet now you feel more paranoid than ever.

“We can’t do this, Ari,” you mutter, trying to sidestep him again, “We can’t be seen together now or ever again, so just move so I can leave–”

“No.”

“Yes!” you try not to explode or lose your patience, “This isn’t right, okay? You and me, we’re not right. Sharon doesn’t deserve us going behind her back, she doesn’t–”

“I told you, I broke up with her.”

“That doesn’t make any of this okay, so just move!”

He doesn’t. Instead, he grabs your arm again, tugging you somewhere deep into the corridor before you have a chance to stop him or finish your sentence. And he’s too strong to fight against, so you don’t even try it. The last thing you want is to put any more attention on you or him. Even if Sharon wasn’t around, one of her friends could see you with him and report back to her. And after everything that happened with you and Sharon, you wanted to come clean to her yourself, rather than have her hear about you sleeping with her boyfriend behind her back from somebody else.

“The supply closet? Really, Ari?” You plant your hands on your hips, watching as he shuts and locks the door of the dimly lit room.

He shrugs, “If it’ll get you to stop running away from me...”

“Well, why can’t you just get the message? I’m running for a reason.” You try to push past him, but the closet is way too small to allow that type of movement. He easily grabs your waist and lifts you back in front of him, making you scowl. “Look, I don’t know what you expected would happen between us when you dumped Sharon, I already told you we’re done. She doesn’t deserve this.”

Ari has the audacity to look confused, “Since when do you care about her?”

“Since I developed a brain and realised what we did behind her back for months was wrong!” You explode, hating the fact that you have to spell this out for him. “You know that she came to my dorm room the day after you dumped her? She was a mess, Ari! All because of us, and she doesn’t even know it!”

 He sighs, “If you want, I could come clean to her and tell her it was you who I was sleeping with. You shouldn’t have to deal with that, it’s my problem, anyways.”

“No, you don’t say anything, Ari! I’m going to tell her myself.” Soon.

“Okay, but trust me, don’t worry about her too much. She’s a strong girl, she’ll bounce back.”

You stare at him incredulously. Strong girl? Bounce back? Oh, he was infuriating!

“Whatever, Ari.” You mutter, once more trying to push past him but he places you back in front of him with such ease that it’s almost comical.

“What happened to you that day with Steve?” He asks again, his brow furrowed.

“It’s none of your business.”

He scoffs, folding his arms over his chest. “You came home in tears with your dress all torn up and you expect me to just go about my business as if all that was nothing?”

“Yes. It shouldn’t be too hard for you considering you’ve left me in tears yourself a couple of times.” You think back to the frat party, how he’d left you drunk, high and in tears in the bathroom. By the guilt that flashes in Ari’s eyes, he remembers too.

“I told you I was sorry about that.”

You shrug, “Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyways. You used me, and Steve used me too.” Your voice almost breaks but you clear your throat quickly, not wanting to cry in front of him.

“What do you mean Steve used you?” Ari grabs your shoulders with a note of urgency. “Did he do something you didn’t want to do? Did he fuck you? Goddamit, I told you not to speak to him!”

Shaking out of his grasp, you feel another flash of anger. The same flash you’d felt surge through you the night you’d kicked Ari out of your dorm room. A part of you wants to start yelling and screaming again, but you know you can’t do that here.

“What does it matter, anyways?” You snap, feeling the walls building up around you. Half of you wants to scream and the other half wants to curl up and cry. The two emotions swirl inside you like a whirlpool, making you feel lightheaded.

A handful of seconds go by and all Ari does is stare at you. You can hear him breathing hard, almost erratically, as if deciding his next move. Finally, he bends down so his face is level with yours, his hands leaving your shoulders to cup your cheeks instead. His eyes, so bright blue despite the dark mustiness of the supply closet, bore into yours so intensely.

“Did. He. Fuck. You?”

“No.”

“Did he hurt you?”

You don’t answer, instead staring at the dark nothingness beyond Ari’s shoulder. Maybe if you focused on it hard enough, you could dissociate and float away from this situation. Float away from anyone else who could hurt you or use you or manipulate you. Float away from the guilt, the shame, the sadness, all of it.

Instead, you feel the wind being knocked out of you as Ari roughly pushes you against what feels like a shelf. The wooden edges poke against your back, and your mouth curls in pain.

“Listen to me. I’m not fucking around anymore, okay? You need to tell me what happened right fucking now.” Ari growls, his face inches from yours. It seems like someone’s ignited a fire in his eyes, twin fires – one burning bright in each eye, and you can practically feel the heat of his anger radiating from his being.

“You’re hurting me!” You cry out pitifully.

Like a hot poker, Ari drops you immediately, regret seeping through his features before he takes a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just…” He pauses, and for a second his whole face screws up and contorts, like he’s inwardly examining every corner of his brain to conjure up the right thing to say. “Look, I care about you. A lot. And these past two days have been torture, knowing that he did something to you and I couldn’t protect you.”

He sounds sincere, but you know it’s all an act. He doesn’t mean it, he’s only trying to be nice so he can have sex with you later, the voice inside your head cackles.

“So just tell me what he did, and I’ll–”

 “WHAT PART OF IT DO YOU WANT TO KNOW, ARI?” You burst, “What part of the whole ugly thing would you like me to relive first? The part where he promised he’d take me out on a date but he took me to his bedroom instead?” You duck your head in shame, “I suppose I should be used to that by now, but I was stupid enough to let myself hope.”

Ari draws his breath but stays silent.

“Or would you rather I tell you everything he said? Down to the last fucking detail? How he basically implied that I was the world’s biggest slut?” This time, you can’t keep the tears at bay. “H-He said… He said I should stop acting like a nun because I had no problem with you fucking me at the party!”

You don’t mention the part where Steve had also said you’d had no problem spreading your legs for Steve too the night of the party. You have yet to come to terms with and address that little detail, and so you push it back to the depths of your mind for now. Ari couldn’t know about that, not when you didn’t know yourself.

Instead, your face crumples up, and before you realise it, you’re heaving with tears. Waterfalls pouring down your cheeks as you cry and cry. You don’t even notice Ari picking you up, you don’t notice him sitting down on a nearby stool and holding you in his lap. Carefully holding your head against his chest, rocking you back and forth as his other hand rubs up and down your back.

So much for all your bravado, so much for keeping up a strong front and resisting Ari at all costs. Here you were again, crying in his arms like you always ended up doing.

“H-He was so awful!” you sob, burying your head deep in Ari’s shirt, inhaling the manly scent of his aftershave, and it calms your hurting heart a little bit. But not enough. “He said all these mean things, and he…he wouldn’t stop, Ari! I k-kept saying no, but he wouldn’t listen at all! It was like something came over him!”

You fist the soft material of Ari’s jersey, taking comfort in the feel of his strong arms wrapped tightly around you. His familiar, manly scent and his soft hair tickling your face as he holds you carefully against him. And despite everything, you can’t help but note how strange this is. Of course, Ari had held you while you cried about a dozen times – but this seemed different. For one, he wasn’t cooing sweet manipulations into your ear. He was just… silent. You risk peaking up at him through teary eyes, to see him looking straight ahead with a grim look on his face, the beginnings of a sneer forming on his lips.

“It’s okay,” Ari says softly, his voice sounding thick as if there’s something stuck in his throat. Was this what true, earnest sympathy sounded like coming from him? Or was it all just an act? You’re too busy crying and seeking solace in his warm chest to really mull it over, and the beefy basketball player continues to stroke your back, “It’s okay, baby. He won’t hurt you anymore. I promise he won’t.”

“JUST SAY IT ALREADY! Just say ‘I told you so!’” You sob, “He didn’t care about me at all, Ari! Just like you said. He was just using me. He just wanted sex, or to get back at you, or both!”

He doesn’t say I told you so. Instead, his lips press down on top of your head, kissing you gently. And you know you should push him away, but you reason with yourself to hold on to him just for a little bit longer. Just till you felt a little bit better. Was that so wrong?

“He won’t hurt you again,” Ari repeats firmly, now cupping your face with both his hands so you look him dead in the eye.

“He scared me so bad, Ari!” you sniffle, “H-He punched a wall when I said I wanted to leave, and then…and then he wouldn’t let me go!”

Ari mutters something unintelligible under his breath, before using the corner of his sleeve to wipe your cheeks. “How did you get him to stop?”

“I couldn’t. But thankfully, his sister was there and she stopped him.”

Ari freezes, “His sister?”

“Yes.”

“Did she say anything to you?”

“Not really,” you look down at your hands. Recounting the whole horrific ordeal with Steve had caused them to start shaking, and you grip at your skirt to get them to stop. Before you know it, Ari’s larger hands cup your own, holding them in place on your lap, stilling them, calming you.

“Well, don’t worry,” Ari says firmly, “he won’t touch you ever again. I’ll make sure of it.”

His face looks earnest, sincere. A large part of you feels comforted by him, but there’s also a dwindling doubt in the back of your mind. A little speck of mistrust growing larger and larger, fuelled by all the times he’s hurt you. Fuelled by how Steve had hurt you. Despite the fact that you don’t want to, you snatch your hands out of his and shoot up off his lap as if he’s shot you. No. You weren’t going to do this again. You weren’t going to fall for his false promises. Not this time.

“Stop lying,” you say shakily, backing away from him slowly. “You don’t care about me so stop pretending like you do. You just want me for sex, and you’re angry that someone else got close to having me like that too. But you don’t actually care about me or how I feel, Ari, so just stop lying!”

He stands up too, frowning, “I’m not lying. I dumped Sharon. I’ve been texting and calling you this whole time. Hell, I’m standing inside a fucking supply closet just to get a minute alone with you. What part of that says I don’t care?”

“You don’t care,” you repeat softly, “It took me a while to realise it, but now I do. All I’m good for is sex.”

“That’s not true–”

“Yes it is!” You cry, “Remember all the times I begged to be your girlfriend and you came up with a bullshit excuse each time? It’s because you knew that I wasn’t worth anything more than a hook-up for you!” You shake your head bitterly, “God, you must’ve been laughing behind my back at how stupid and naïve I was for expecting more from you. Steve’s probably laughing too. You’re both the same and I’m not going to let you or him or anyone else hurt me ever again! So, for the love of God, just leave me alone!”

You turn to leave, but Ari grabs your hand.

“What’s it going to take to show you that I care about you? Because I’ll do it.”

You don’t turn back around, waiting two long seconds before you tug your hand out of his grip. But you do open your mouth to respond – except nothing comes out. Instead, you sigh. There was really nothing more left to say, was there? Except perhaps just one more thing…

“Nothing, Ari. People don’t just change overnight. Especially not people like you.”

You step out of the supply closet, carefully shutting the door behind you and finally walking away. And hopefully this time, it’s for good.

***

Ari: WTF. Why did you change your lock???

Ari: Stop avoiding me.

Ari: If you weren’t so hellbent on ignoring me, you’d know that I have changed. Just give me a chance to prove it to you.

Ari: ???????

Ari: Steve’s still dodging me, by the way. Me and Curtis went over to his frat house but he wasn’t there again. Clearly, he’s afraid of me, but don’t worry. I promise I’ll make him pay for what he did.

The days go by, and Ari continues to text you daily all while you lock yourself up in your room and pretty much avoid the outside world. And his last text makes you want to tear your hair out. Why couldn’t Ari just butt out of your life and stop trying to fight Steve on your behalf!? You’d never asked for that; you didn’t want that! You just wished the whole ordeal with Steve had never even happened, you wished you could will it out of existence.

And speaking of Steve, he still texted you too. Not as frequently as Ari, which made him better at taking a hint than he was at planning first dates. But you still received a message from him every now and again…

Steve: I get it. I fucked it all up.

Steve: I need to see you again. I’ll make it right. Please.

And sure, there was a tiny part of you that did want to hear Steve out. But you were afraid of him, afraid of what he’d do or say. Plus, he’d literally lied to you, pretended he was interested in having a relationship with you when really, he just wanted sex. So, who was to say he wouldn’t lie again? Oh God, everything felt so wrong, how could he possibly make anything right!?

And why couldn’t you just block them both and move on!? You wish you could, yet you can’t find it in you to block or delete either of their numbers. Not Ari’s, and not even Steve’s. Maybe it’s the naïve little girl inside you, the insecure little girl who wants to hold on to the only male attention she’s ever gotten – despite the fact that your relationships with both men had gone up in smoke. And so you settle with just muting and archiving their chats. Out of sight, out of mind – except not really. But it’s the best you can do for now.

And you feel more alone now than ever. With Wanda always preoccupied with Curtis, you had nobody to confide your heartbreak in. But ironically, you began to grow closer with Sharon. On the rare occasions you actually left your dorm room and made it into campus for your lectures, she always seemed to find you. You realised quickly that she no longer hung out with her usual cheerleader friends. Either she herself had opted to leave them, or they’d decided to leave her because she was no longer the basketball captain’s girlfriend. Either way, you didn’t ask.

“It’s probably one of them,” Sharon mutters darkly one day as the two of you walk past a gaggle of cheerleaders, “The bitch he was cheating on me with. It’s probably one of them.”

You gulp. You had yet to come clean to her – but you could never find the right moment. And as time went by and she started spending more and more time with you, it got even harder to just drop the bomb and be like, oh hey, by the way! That bitch who your boyfriend cheated on you with? That was me!

But apart from all that, Sharon was good company. Both of you were dealing with heartbreak (she seemed to be dealing with hers better than you were dealing with yours), and so there was a kind of understanding between the two of you. Not to mention, hanging out with her turned out to be useful in keeping Ari away from you. Any time he spotted you on campus, he’d start making a beeline for you before freezing when he realised you were with her.

“You know, I think I figured out why both Ari and Steve treated us the way they did.” Sharon pipes up one day whilst the two of you are leaving campus. “It’s because we’re too nice.”

“Hm?” You barely utter a word, just wanting to get home and wallow in bed. You hadn’t told Sharon the extent of what had happened between you and Steve on your “date.” All she knew was that it was over, and you never wanted to speak to him again.

“Yeah, it’s because we’re too nice. Bad bitches don’t get their hearts broken, but nice girls always do.” She says, unscrewing her lip gloss and touching up her lips. Unlike you, she’d gotten some of her pep back since her breakup. In a way, you were glad. You’d rather her be happy than you – she deserved it after getting cheated on. 

You manage to laugh cynically, which eggs the blonde on as she continues.

“I’m serious. From here on out, let’s promise not to take any shit from anyone. That way, no one can hurt us again.”

No one hurting you ever again? That sounded like a dream. You knew you could be naïve at times, especially months ago when Ari had first started hooking up with you. Back then, you really thought you’d hit the jackpot and found yourself the perfect boyfriend. Now, months later, it was like you’d mentally matured at rapid speed. Could you be tougher now? Stop being the stupid, naïve little girl that kept getting played by men?

“That’s easier said than done,” you remark softly.

Sharon shrugs, “It’s worth a shot. I think if you act like an ice queen well enough, people are gonna know not to fuck with you. So, like, next time Steve tries to approach you or sweet-talk you into taking him back, just act like you couldn’t care less. Keep a strong resolve, he’ll get the message.”

You think back to all the times in the past you’ve tried to keep a strong resolve. Not with Steve, but with Ari. And every single time, you’d ended up crumbling and crying in his arms. Giving him the perfect opportunity to manipulate you again. Would the same thing happen with Steve? Who could be extremely charming and angelic when he wanted to be? You hoped not…

Turns out you don’t have to wonder that for too long. Because as you walk up to your dorm building after parting ways with Sharon, you see Steve sitting on the stairs of the entrance. He stands up quickly when he spots you, and your heartbeat quickens. Oh no, why was he here!?

“I didn’t mean to ambush you,” Steve calls out when you stop dead in your tracks a few feet away from him. “But you wouldn’t return any of my calls.” He starts making his way over to you, and you remain frozen in place. Despite every cell in your body screaming for you to run.

“Please, stay away from me.” You mumble.

Steve stops short, holding his hands up defensively, “I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to apologise.” His face softens, and you notice how he’s got a bit of facial hair now, like he hasn’t shaved since you last saw him. His hair looks scruffier too. He’s also got dark circles under his eyes, like he hasn’t slept. In fact, in his black hoodie (the hood up) and black sweats, he looks about as depressed as you feel.

“Sorry, I’m not interested in your apology.” You stick your nose up and resume walking, trying your hardest to follow Sharon’s advice and be the stone-faced ice queen who didn’t let anything phase her.

Steve, of course, follows you up the steps and into your building.

“I wasn’t thinking straight that day in my bedroom. Sometimes I get like that.”

“I don’t care.” You try to sound nonchalant, but now you’re a bit scared. What if he followed you all the way up to your room? Forced his way inside? Locked the door and had his way with you like how he’d tried to last time? There was no Kira here to pacify him, either… Abruptly, you turn around, trying to keep your voice from shaking, “Steve, please don’t follow me inside.”

He bites his lip, looking every bit as handsome as he always did. Which sucked, because he deserved to have somehow become ugly after how horrible he’d been the last time you’d seen him. But no such luck, he still looked angelic. A bit dark and twisted and scruffy, but angelic nevertheless.

“But I need to explain to you why I acted the way I did.”

A bitter chuckle forces itself out your mouth, fear momentarily forgotten. “I know why you acted the way you did. You wanted sex, and you thought I was so naïve and easy, that I would easily provide it for you. And when I didn’t, you lost it.

“No, that’s not it at all!”

You jump at his tone, but try to keep your expression unfazed. “Well, I don’t care and I’m not interested.”

He clenches his fists, his jaw tensing too. But he relaxes when he notices the way your eyes widen in fear, and how you take a few steps back.

“Please, fuck, just don’t be scared of me.” He holds his hands up defensively again, and this time, you notice one of them is bandaged up. The one he punched the wall with. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“No, you already did that, Steve.” You turn back around and continue walking up to your dorm room, trying so hard to appear nonchalant.

“I’m not the best at controlling my emotions, okay?” He calls out behind you, and the steady patter of his footsteps reveals he’s still following you as you go up the stairs of your building. “My parents, they’ve made me see a bunch of doctors for it, and lately I’ve been able to cope but I’ll admit, something inside me snapped that day, and I took it out on you when I shouldn’t have, and–”

 “DIDN’T YOU HEAR ME? I SAID I’M NOT INTERESTED IN ANYTHING YOU HAVE TO SAY!” You reach your door before angrily whipping around, “Just leave me alone, alright? I don’t care if you’re sorry, it doesn’t take back the fact that you lied and made it seem like you wanted to date me when really all you wanted was sex! Not to mention, all the vile things you said and how scary you got. Now just leave me the fuck alone!”

Quickly, you slip inside your room and slam your door shut, locking it at lightning speed. Steve calls out your name, he knocks, he rattles your doorknob. And all you do is lean against the door, breathing fast and willing yourself not to cry. It was okay, he wouldn’t hurt you. There was a locked door between the two of you.

“(Y/N), please. Just give me another chance,” Steve knocks again, “I know I acted like a complete asshole, okay? I knew it the second I snapped out of it. And I really didn’t mean to say all those things.”

You feel that sudden flash of anger again. Bolting through you like lightning. After everything he’d said to you, after he’d forced himself on you… The best he could come up with was “I was an asshole and I didn’t mean it,”!? No, you couldn’t let him get off that easily. There were things that needed explaining and questions that needed to be answered.

Before you can think better of it, you throw the door back open. Of course, he’s still standing there, and you muster up the toughest, most ice queen-esque expression you can possibly make.

“Fine. We can talk.” You fold your arms over your chest, “But you need to answer me honestly. So don’t try to lie or manipulate me.”

Steve nods immediately, “Okay. Thank you.” He steps forward, as if he’s trying to get into your room. You quickly raise a hand up.

“No. Out here.” You don’t feel comfortable being in a bedroom alone with him. You take a deep breath, “You said that I spread your legs for you the night of the party. What did we do? And don’t lie.”

“We hooked up.” Steve meets your steely gaze evenly, before shaking his hoodie off his head and running a hand through his scruffy hair. It’s gotten long enough that the ends are starting to curl up, kind of like how Ari’s do – not that that was relevant at all right now. “In the cab when I was taking you home. We didn’t have sex, but we hooked up and I got you off.”

You wrack your brain, willing yourself to remember that night. But all you can muster up are fragmented pieces of memory. In the car with him, and you remembered how good he’d smelled. You remember his varsity jacket, and how it had somehow ended up around your shoulders. But… what else? Oh! You remember being in his lap, you remember the car hitting some bumps, and… Oh.

You nod slowly, “So then why did you lie? At the practice game, when you could’ve mentioned what happened?”

Steve exhales, “I did, but you were all confused. I thought you’d remember, but when I realised you didn’t, I just… Well, I don’t know why I didn’t say anything. I just… didn’t.”

For a guy who was so hell bent on explaining things to you, his explanations sure did suck.

You laugh bitterly, “No, you were too busy flaunting me in front of Ari’s face during that practice.” God, how could you have been so stupid!?

“Look, I said I’d answer everything and tell you the whole truth,” He shifts from one foot to the other, scratching his neck as if debating whether to say what he’s about to say, “And yes, I’ll admit that a part of me was using you to get to Ari.”

It feels like a punch to your gut. You’d suspected it, but the fact that he was so readily confirming it made it all the worse. With just a few words, Steve had confirmed all your insecurities. Not only did he not want to date you, not only was he just using you for sex… Oh no, as if that wasn’t enough, he’d also been using you as a pawn in whatever sick, longstanding rivalry he had with Ari.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…

“Please don’t cry,” Steve steps forward, closing the gap between the two of you. And you’re so distraught by the bomb he’s dropped on you, that you don’t even try to run away from him. Instead, you lean against the door, breathing heavily, trying to keep your tears at bay.

He continues, “This is me being honest, alright? Something Ari never is with you. And yes, I wanted him to be jealous, I wanted to get a rise out of him, so I flaunted you in front of him. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t care about you. I still care about you.”

“How can you possibly say you care about me after everything you’ve just admitted?” You manage to get out as you try to get your breathing back into order.

“Because I do care! I think I’d know what I’m feeling better than you would!” He’s growing visibly frustrated. “Fuck, sorry. I’m so bad at explaining shit.” He smacks his forehead hard several times and yet you don’t even have it in you to flinch.

“Goddamit, look, I’ll start from the beginning.” He takes a few, gulping breaths. “When I first saw you at the party, it had nothing to do with Ari, I didn’t even know that you knew him. I approached you that night because you looked cute and lost, and I liked how feisty and sweet you were–”

“That’s a lie!” You wipe at your eyes roughly, “That’s a fucking lie, Steve. Aren’t you forgetting what you said last time you saw me? You knew what Ari and I did that night, you called me a slut for spreading my legs for him in the middle of a party! And you expected I’d do the same for you.”

“No, that’s not it at all!”

He gulps as if trying to get his breathing even once more, and you realise that’s his way of calming himself down. And you can tell that he’s trying, that he’s trying so hard not to have a meltdown like last time, and you just look at him apprehensively. You know you could back away at any moment, slam the door in his face again and lock it and be done with him. And yet, your feet remain planted in place, as if a part of you just has to hear him out.

“I’m sorry I called you a slut. It’s all a big fucking blank in my head, like I blacked out and said all those things. And I never saw you and Ari fucking at the party or anything like that. I only found that out days later through the grapevine. But I shouldn’t have used it against you, that was wrong of me. I’m sorry I fucked it all up by saying that. You didn’t deserve it.”

You shake your head but he hurriedly continues, “I was always going to ask you out, Ari or no Ari. It’s only when I saw how jealous he got when he saw you with me, that I realised how much he liked you. That he liked you more than he liked his own girlfriend. That’s when I realised I could be with you and get back at him at the same time.”

Get back at him!? For what? Did you even care, at this point?

Anger. Fear. Confusion. Pure fucking discombobulation. That’s what you feel. So much so, that you don’t even know what to say or how to act.

Steve takes your lack of response as his cue, moving forward and reach out to cup the side of your face slowly. And you fucking hate how soft and warm his hand feels, how it’s bigger than your whole head yet feels gentle at the same time. Gentle, when the last time he’d had his hands on you, he’d been holding you down on his bed while he tried to force himself on you.

“But I like you too,” Steve says quietly, almost like a whisper, “I like you more than he ever could. And whenever I like something, whenever I have something good in my life, I always fuck it up. But this time, for once in my life I want to make things right.”

“I kept telling you to stop,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut as the memories from that night barge their way back into your head. “Y-You ripped my dress.”

“I’m so sorry, baby girl.”

“You wouldn’t stop, Steve. It’s like you weren’t there, like something came over you and you weren’t there anymore.”

He nods fervently, his fingers stroking your cheek, “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I can’t help that I’m like this, I really fucking wish I could be normal and react normally to things like how other people do. I wish it more than anything in the fucking world.”

It’s like he’s a completely different man from the one you’d first met and thought you knew. The man who’d been so shrouded in mystery, oozing with confidence and charm. His intense aura, the smoothness with how he’d spoken to you in the past. But in this moment, it’s like all of that had melted away. And here he was, stripped back. Rough round the edges with bags under his eyes, an earnest look on his face. And this time when you look into his eyes, for a moment it’s like you really see him; you see someone fighting to be normal, desperate for another chance. Oh, should you…?

And then you blink. And there it is again: Steve, the very same man, saying all those vile things to you. All because you wouldn’t fuck him. Him ripping your dress, him holding you down. Him losing his temper. Him punching the wall. The way he’d held you so hard, not letting you leave. That dark, faraway look in his eyes. How scared you’d been… And here you were, letting him cup your face and speak all tenderly with you!?

What if he got like that again?

It’s like a lash of electricity jolts through you. You push Steve away hard.

“Listen to me carefully, Steve, because I’m not gonna say this again. You’re not who I thought you were. You lied about what happened on the night we met, and you lied about your intentions with me. It doesn’t matter if you say you wanted to date me, because your past actions speak louder than whatever words you’re saying now.” You take a deep breath, “That’s why I want you to leave me alone. Forever. Just walk out right now and never look back. Because I’m done with you. And I really, truly mean it.”

He freezes, an unreadable expression on his face. A myriad of emotions flitter through his eyes. Shock, sadness, anger. Disbelief. Resignation. And then…

“And what about Ari?” He says quietly, “You’re choosing him?”

“No, I–”

Steve spits out a bitter laugh, as if he wasn’t gently cupping your face and promising you everything just five seconds ago.

“You don’t know him, (Y/N). Okay fine, I wasn’t completely honest with you and I guess that means I’ve fucked things up between us forever. But you think Ari hasn’t lied to you?”

“I know he’s lied–”

“YOU DON’T KNOW THE HALF OF IT!” Out of nowhere, he raises his voice. And it cuts you like a sword, reverberating off the walls. You flinch at the booming loudness of his words, the aggressiveness back on his angelic face and now he’s scaring you again. “You don’t know what he’s done, okay!?”

“You’re scaring me.”

You try to say it calmly, but your voice breaks right at the end. Steve blinks rapidly, several times. Breathing hard, he looks down at his fingers which are enclosed tightly around your arm. Just like that day in his room. Like a hot poker, he drops it immediately. And again, it’s like he’s waking up from some sort of a momentary trance. Or rather, a momentary wave of anger.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats in a low tone, “but if you knew the things he’s done, you wouldn’t have picked him–”

“I HAVEN’T PICKED HIM!” It’s your turn to explode. “I didn’t pick him, Steve. This isn’t about picking anyone. I’m done with you, and I’m done with Ari too. I’m picking neither of you. Goodbye.”

You turn around and slam your door shut before he can get another word out.

***

“It’s like, a fundraising gala type thing held at the Hilton. The money raised gets split down the middle, half going towards the basketball team and half towards the cheerleaders,” Sharon explains, twirling a piece of her blonde hair around her finger. “Which, by the way, I think is totally lame, because the basketball team doesn’t even need any more funding. Unlike the cheerleaders.”

She swivels around in your desk chair, her sock clad feet waving around in the air. Outside, the sun sparkles and a gentle breeze flows in through your window. The weather had been great lately, as if the atmosphere knew you’d finished the final chapter of the Ari and Steve saga and closed the book on both of them. As if nature itself was willing you to go outside and begin your new chapter, one where you were sexy and single and thriving.

So then why could you still not find it in you to step outside of your room on most days?

“I’ve been on the planning and decorating committee for the Athletic Society’s Annual Gala for the past two years,” Sharon continues, “it’s like, one of the biggest events of the year. All these important sports execs and school alumni show up, not to mention half the college. Wanda, I’m guessing you’re going with Curtis, right?”

“Huh?” Wanda glances up from her phone for a split second, looking as if she has not the slightest clue what Sharon is on about. Burying her nose back into her screen, her acrylics start tapping ferociously. And it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to guess who she’s texting. In fact, you were surprised when she’d showed up alongside Sharon outside your dorm room this morning. It was very hard to pin down Wanda lately, since all her time was devoted to her boyfriend.

Sharon raises an eyebrow before shifting her attention back to you, “Well anyways, I think this would be a great opportunity for you to get out of your funk, Y/N. We could go together! As friends, obviously.” She adds hastily.

You manage to muster up a smile, “I don’t know…”

“Oh, come on! It’s been weeks since you ended things with Steve!” Sharon says, and you no longer shiver when his name is mentioned. It’s like the last confrontation you had with him cleared up the fog in your head a little bit. It still depressed you to the core, to know that you’d been used, but at least you didn’t flinch at his name anymore. That was something.

He’d also stopped texting you at all anymore. Which you should be happy about, and yet you still found yourself looking at your chat with him. God, what was wrong with you!? He’d finally left you alone just like how you’d wanted him to, and yet a part of you still felt like it was yearning for him.

“And I know how much you love dressing up and doing your makeup. Hey, we could even go shopping together for dresses!” The blonde claps her hands, clearly unaware of your current inner turmoil as she works herself up into a frenzy.

“We could make it into a proper girl’s night,” She sits on the other end of your bed with a bounce, “Hey, Wanda, why don’t you get ready with us too? You could always just meet Curtis there.”

Wanda scoffs, “Uh, no. I think I’ll go with my boyfriend, thank you very much.”

Sharon rolls her eyes, “Ugh. Fuck boyfriends. I was gonna go with Ari, but that’s obviously not happening anymore. Plus, a girl’s night sounds a lot more fun.”

Your poor, gullible, traitorous heart jolts. “Ari’s gonna be there?”

Unlike Steve, Ari was still texting you and trying to somehow see you in person. You’d successfully avoided him since the supply closet meeting. And yet, you couldn’t stop thinking about him either. God, were you just incapable of not thinking about the two fuckboys who had fucked your entire life up!?

“Yep, but it won’t bother me, I promise.” Sharon says determinedly, “The banquet hall is huge, so I’ll easily just avoid him. He’s probably gonna be super busy, anyways. Word has it that they’re giving him the Basketball MVP award this year.”

“Oh,” you breathe, before quickly clearing your throat, “I don’t know, Sharon. It sounds like fun, but–”

“Curtis says that he’s going to the gala with the basketball team, and that no one else is bringing dates,” Wanda interrupts you as she reads the latest text from her boyfriend. Finally, she looks up, “I guess I’ll go with you girls, then.”

“Great!” Sharon cheers, “You’re in too, right, Y/N?”

You smile, not really knowing what to say. Being in the same banquet hall as Ari and Sharon? At the same time? That was just trouble waiting to happen.

But is this how you were going to spend the rest of the college year? Letting your feelings towards Ari dictate where you went and didn’t go? You think about the old you, the one before Ari or Steve or anyone. The one who loved to dress up and go out to have fun. Before Wanda had got a boyfriend, the two of you used to go out all the time. Another girls’ night wouldn’t harm anyone, would it?

Sharon senses your hesitation, “Come on,” she urges, “It’s not like Steve’s even gonna be there. It’s strictly a St. Andrews’ event.”

You bite your lip. You doubted you’d ever see Steve again. Clearly, since he no longer texted you either. And a part of you is bittersweet as you think about what could have been. Absentmindedly, your eyes divert to your desk chair, where his blue and white varsity jacket still lies. You hadn’t even thought to throw it away. You bet it still smells like him…

Oh God, you had to get over him. Get over both of them and get the fuck out of this funk you were in. So what if Ari would be there too? This was your chance to prove to yourself that his presence didn’t make a difference in how you lived your life.

You take a deep breath, “Okay. I’ll go.”

***

 PART II

“Open up, sleepyhead. I’m not leaving and I’ll camp outside your door if you don’t open it.”

You’d woken up the next day to a loud knocking on your door. And you’d tried to ignore him. You really had. It was so much easier to just remain in bed, rotting and feeling sorry for yourself despite the promise you’d made yourself to get over the two men who’d betrayed your trust, and get out of the funk you were in. But the knocking was incessant, going from soft-knuckled raps to full on banging. You were sure he’d wake up your entire building, and then you’d have to pay a noise fine.

That’s why I’m opening the door, you think to yourself. Not because I actually want to see him.

And there’s Ari, standing outside your door with a picnic basket under his arm. And he looks kind of funny, his big athletic self holding such a dainty little thing. He also looks extremely pleased with himself, and you don’t even have the energy within you to argue with him or tell him to leave. You and him had gone non-contact ever since the confrontation inside the supply closet. Or rather, you’d gone non-contact whilst Ari tried to find ways to talk to you. He couldn’t corner you on campus anymore because you were usually with Sharon, and you’d changed your locks so he couldn’t exactly barge into your dorm room like how he used to.

“Go away, Ari.”

“Hey, nice to see you too. I come bearing food, because I know you haven’t eaten. And don’t ask me how I know, I just know.” Ari says breezily, and you frown at how chipper he’s acting. As if the last time you’d seen him you hadn’t stormed away and told him the two of you could never see each other again.

He follows you inside, and you quickly swipe Steve’s varsity jacket under your desk so he doesn’t see it. You don’t know why you still haven’t thrown it out but you really can’t be bothered to get into another fight with Ari over it.

Earlier in the day, Sharon had texted you asking if you’d wanted to hang out. You’d declined, finding the comfortability of your bed and the prospect of watching old reruns of trashy reality television much more interesting. What you hadn’t expected was Ari Levinson of all people showing up at your door, however. Although, you’re not too surprised. He was still texting you nonstop, wanting to show you how he’d “changed.”

Ari plops the picnic basket on top of your desk, and you sigh, sitting down on your desk chair while he grabs a stool. You already know how this is going to go. He’d tell you to open it, you’d say no, he’d say yes, you’d say no again. Then he’d open it and make you see the contents anyways. You decide to stop wasting either of your time and look inside the basket yourself.

“Cheese sandwiches?”

“Uh huh. And don’t knock it till you try one, sweetheart. My mom makes these for me.” Ari winks before flashing you a smile. And doesn’t contain even a hint of his usual cockiness or smugness – it’s just a regular little smile that makes his eyes light up all pretty too. And you’re not used to it at all, it looks almost displaced on his face. Was he being genuine? You can’t even tell anymore. But probably not.

You pick one up and eye it carefully, and your heart can’t help but throb at the thought of him standing in his kitchen making it for you. Big, bad basketball captain fuckboy Ari Levinson carefully cutting the sandwich into little triangles and packing it up for you in this little picnic basket. How had Ari even gotten hold of a picnic basket to begin with?

“So, it’s a family recipe?” You take a cautious bite.

“Yep. Passed down from generation to generation. Don’t ask me how you make it because it’s a Levinson family secret,” he grabs a sandwich of his own and wolfs it down in two bites, “I mean, you could always become a Levinson yourself and have my kid, then I’d tell you.”

Your cheeks heat up. Oh, a few weeks ago he didn’t even want a relationship with you and now he was joking about marriage and kids?! Would you ever understand him?

“It must be some recipe,” you remark, trying your best to keep your tone even and unamused. Instead of looking at him, you observe the sandwich. It tastes good – he’s used some type of expensive artisan bread and fancy cheese. A step above your average grilled cheese, and it tastes even better on an empty stomach since he was right, you hadn’t eaten anything since last night.

“It is. Have another one,” he thrusts another sandwich in your hand.

Your frown, “Ari, stop, I don’t want–”

“You haven’t eaten all day, (Y/N).” His tone drops, growing more serious.

“Well, stop acting like you care!” You shoot back.

But Ari looks unperturbed as he helps himself to a third sandwich (he was going through them remarkably fast), “I do care.”

“You don’t.”

“I do.”

“You don’t.”

“Yes, I fucking do,” he says, the slight sharpness in his voice taking you aback. “What other girl have I cooked for and lugged a fucking picnic basket halfway across campus for?”

You settle back begrudgingly, taking another bite out of the sandwich, “I’d hardly call this cooking.”

You know you sound mean and bitter, but it’s like you can’t help it. Like there’s a deep black hole filled with anger still swirling within you. Anger at both Ari and Steve and you don’t know how to sort through it or make it go away.

“Oh yeah? Well, you’ve never cooked for me so I’d say you’re hardly an expert on the subject.” Ari shoots back, grabbing another sandwich from the picnic basket as well as a can of soda. “You want a coke?”

“No.”

You start tearing your sandwich into tiny pieces just so you have something else to focus on and you don’t have to look at his face. Because you’re afraid this newfound earnesty of his, afraid it would reel you back in hook, line and sinker. Afraid he was just putting on an act to convince you he’d “changed.” That’s also why you’re being cold – you can’t let your walls down with him again. Not this time. Not when Sharon was literally your friend now.

“So, I was thinking we could catch a movie after we eat,” Ari continues talking all casually as if the majority of the conversation so far hasn’t been extremely one-sided. “Have you seen the new Godzilla vs Kong? Probably not, you’re not into stuff like that.” He pauses only to consume his sandwich in two huge bites, before grabbing another one. His voracious appetite almost makes you smile. Almost. The only other times you’d seen him look this starved was when he was going down on you…

No, stop! Don’t think about that!

“Sure, we could watch some girly movie instead, but you’d have to pick it because I have no idea about shit like that, obviously–”

“I told you; we can’t go anywhere that Sharon or someone might see us. Besides, the last thing I want to do is go out with you. In fact, you can show yourself out now because I’m gonna go back to bed–”

Ari slams his coke can down on your desk with a loud clunk. You jump, before narrowing your eyes at him. First, he practically broke into your room, then forced you to eat his dumb sandwiches. Now he was making obnoxious noises? Oh, you were just about done with him–

“That’s it.” he grunts, standing up to his full height. You gape up at him, suddenly nervous. You barely have the chance to yelp before he grabs your arm, yanking you up with him.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!”

He lifts you up off the ground with ease, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You start pounding on his back immediately, but you only hear him snort in return.

“Put me down right now, Ari! I’m not in the mood for this! Put me down!”

“I gave you a pass to be a little sassy, but you need to remember who’s in charge.” He starts walking across the room. And you may as well have been an insect on his back with how unbothered he was by you wiggling and trying to fight out of his grip. Oh god, what was he going to do?!

Panic bubbles up in your chest, your heartrate increasing tenfold in about five seconds flat. You struggle harder against him, before realising there’s no use. He was way too strong. You shut your eyes and brace yourself; any moment now he’d throw you on the bed and have his way with you just like he always did, just like how Steve had tried to do, and you’d be powerless to stop him because you couldn’t stop anyone, and they all just wanted one thing, and–

“Please don’t,” you whisper, on the verge of tears, “Please, I can’t have sex. I don’t want to have sex, please don’t make me. Please, please don’t make me.”

Ari freezes, and you wish you could see his expression but in your current predicament, dangling over his shoulder, you cannot. But then he starts walking again, and he goes straight past your bed. That’s when you notice the picnic basket in his other hand.

“I’m not trying to sleep with you.” He mutters.

Oh. But then what was he doing?

You get your answer less than a moment later, when he swings your door open and carries you outside. That’s when you start punching his back again.

“Ari, take me back inside! I’m serious, okay? Someone’s gonna see–”

“Then I suggest you stop making so much noise that’s gonna attract attention towards us.” He shoots back, giving you a reprimanding pat on your thigh. Not your ass, you note, but your thigh. Immediately, you shut up. But you fix a scowl on your face, vowing you’d keep it there permanently until he could see it.

A minute later, he dumps you unceremoniously into the passenger seat of his car. By the time you scramble into sitting position, he’s already in the driver’s seat. The doors, predictably, are locked.

“So, it wasn’t enough that you barged into my dorm room uninvited. You felt the need to kidnap me, too?” You snap, irritated yet at the same time slightly amused. But you can’t let him know that. No, you had to maintain your ice queen persona.

“Please,” Ari snorts, starting up the car. “You were talking about going back to bed. If anything, I’m doing you a favour. It’s a nice day, sweetheart, let the sun shine on your face for a few hours.”

You deepen your scowl, crossing your arms over your chest, “I’m not going outside.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m literally not, Ari. Because you didn’t even think to let me put my shoes on.” You wiggle your bare toes, suddenly feeling the strong urge to smile at the ridiculousness of your whole predicament. But you pout to cover it up, suppressing whatever amusement you’re feeling because you don’t want him to see.

“Don’t fucking pout, it makes me want to kiss you.” Ari murmurs, keeping his eyes on the road but you can see him licking his lips.

��Don’t.”

“Did I say I was going to? I said I want to. There’s a difference.”

Again, you want to smile. You quickly turn your head away, looking out the window instead, watching the trees and buildings roll by as he drives you out of campus. “Whatever, just stay away from me.”

“Don’t be a brat.” There’s a warning edge to his tone, one that you’ve come to know very well. But surprisingly, you don’t feel unsafe. For once, you feel like maybe he won’t just stop the car in the middle of nowhere and try to fuck you.

You’ve been in Ari’s car before, and you’re no stranger to how it always goes when you’re in here. Back in the early days of you two hooking up, he’d pick you up in the dead of the night. And you were so innocent, you’d think of these midnight drives as romantic, magical even. He’d have a cigarette in his mouth, his long hair either slicked back or flowing in the cool night air. A wild look in his eyes as he’d pull you inside and kiss you headily while still trying to focus on the road. And he’d have one hand on your thigh, squeezing it before pushing his fingers between your legs.

In his hazy, smoke-filled car, you’d always find yourself underneath him. Splayed out in his backseat while he licked his lips and loomed above you. His dark silhouette so handsome, and you remember thinking how he was such a bad boy, and you were such a good girl, and how hot it was. He’d tell you how much he loved the tight little skirts you always wore, and yet he’d always rip them in half and then laugh and kiss you when you pouted. Tell you how he’d been waiting all day to fuck you, how he just couldn’t wait now that he had you, that he’d been thinking about you and him, that he just had to have you now.

You remember feeling like such a little girl compared to him. Ari was a senior after all, and you only a freshman. Once, you’d tried to impress him by wearing red lipstick. That night, he’d pulled you over the console and made you suck his dick. Till your red lip prints were all over his fat cock, and he’d told you how you were such a good girl, and he loved how cute you were, and that he knew you were trying to impress him.

 All those nights in his car, and you remember each time you’d ask him if he’d broken up with Sharon, and each time he’d tell you that he was “working on it.” That he didn’t see a future with her, that you were so much more special. “I can’t stop thinking about you and I,” he’d say, blue eyes dreamy and you thought he sounded so earnest. And eagerly you’d say the same, excited that someone like him could ever be that interested in someone like you.

And then he’d push you into the backseat, or he’d stay in the driver’s seat and pull you into his lap. Or sometimes, if the place you were parked at was secluded enough, he would take you on the hood of his car. Fuck you in every way imaginable, use your body for his pleasure whilst also giving you the most intense pleasure you’d ever felt. And sometimes, the moonlight would reflect off his eyes and make him look like something so special, and you’d feel so special, and you’d feel like you were in a movie. You still remember it now.

You doubt Ari does, though. You doubt those nights were ever special to him.

“Where are we?” You ask fifteen minutes later when he pulls up somewhere. You peer out the window and see trees – a bunch of them. He’s parked in a clearing, only a single dirt road leading up to it and the rest of the area covered in a thick forest of trees. The sun sparkles through the leaves, and you can hear birds chirping louder than you ever do back in the city. “Are we in the woods?”

“Yep.” He’s out of the car in an instant, grabbing the picnic backet which he’d thrown haphazardly into the backseat before making his way to your door. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“If you think I’m going to hike out into the woods barefoot–”

Ari scoffs, “Don’t worry your pedicured little feet off, princess,” he turns around, “Hop on.”

You eye him carefully, as if you’re assessing a threat. Going into the woods with Ari of all people may not be the best of gameplans for someone who was actively trying to avoid men in general. When Steve had forced himself on you, it had been in his room and luckily Kira had been nearby. The secluded woods, however, were a completely different story.

And yet, it’s like you know deep down that Ari won’t do anything. Not this time. Then again, you’ve been wrong about him before. Were you being naïve all over again?

Maybe you were, but you hop on to his back anyways. His muscular arms catch you easily as you wind your legs around his waist. Your arms lock around his neck and you nestle close to him instinctively. So close that you can smell his grape shampoo, and you admire how pretty his hair is, how it curls up slightly at the base of his neck like he’s a movie star or something.

You hate how you’re still so attracted to him.

He gives you a piggyback ride all the way into the woods, and it’s kind of neat being up so high. Ari was so tall, and with you on his back you felt like you were six foot six inches too. So this is what he sees, you think to yourself, finally indulging in the nature that surrounds the two of you. The way the oak trees soar up as high as skyscrapers, how the smaller trees sway with the breeze. The rustling of the leaves, and you think you hear a distant trickling of water, too.

“It’s nice here, isn’t it?” Ari breaks the comfortable silence, continuing to trek forward into the woods.

You’re about to heartily agree, before you remember the cold persona you’re meant to be adopting with him. So, in the dullest, most bored and nonchalant voice you can muster up, you say: “It’s whatever, I guess.”

He snorts.

You frown, “Are you laughing at me?”

“Nope.” He sounds amused.

“Yes, you are!”

“Well, it’s cute how you’re trying so hard to be something you’re clearly not.”

You’re thankful that he can’t see the way your jaw drops open, “And what exactly do you think I’m trying to be?”

He shrugs, inadvertently bouncing you up and down on his back.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I like this sassy side of you. Especially since I know you’re still the same naïve little baby on the inside.” He looks back at you, and you catch a glimpse of his glittering eyes, framed by those impossibly long eyelashes.

“I am not!”

Ari chuckles, “You can act as tough as you want, it amuses me how cute you look when you do it.”

You scowl, despite the fact that his constant flirting was starting to thaw you from the inside out, making your cheeks burn and your mind feel more muddled than ever. What was the truth and what was a manipulation? This was him just trying to win you over so he could fuck you, right?? Or maybe, maybe he genuinely liked you… Maybe–

You forcibly make yourself scowl again, “Fuck you.”

“Say that again and I’ll drop you,” He threatens.

“Don’t you dare!” You squeal, winding your arms tighter around his neck, almost choking him.

He snickers as if he’s cracked the funniest joke in the world, before continuing to walk. The two of you settle into another spell of comfortable silence. You take in all the bushes full of wild berries, the pretty flowers that are luckily in full bloom, scenting the air with a sweet fragrance that tickles your nostrils pleasantly. Another gentle breeze has you relaxing more against Ari, and you’re almost about to nuzzle your face against his strong shoulder before you catch yourself and freeze.

“I discovered this place last year,” Ari announces five minutes later, gently setting you down on a patch of vibrant grass. To your delight, only a few feet away from you is a stream! The water flows and sparkles in the afternoon sunlight, rushing over rocks and plants and making a pleasant trickling sound that has an oddly calming effect on you. And the grass feels nice against your toes, so much so that you don’t even mind your bare feet on the ground.

You don’t say anything, just watching as Ari settles down beside you with the picnic basket. You stretch your limbs out, secretly happy that he brought you out here, that you didn’t spend another day rotting in bed.

“I found this place last year,” Ari repeats, “A few of us were camping nearby and I hiked out further away to see if I could get cell reception. That’s when I found this place.” He leans back, lying down completely with his arms crossed behind his head, “It’s nice and private here, huh?”

A thought enters your head, jolting you down to the core, “Private? So, this where you brought Sharon? Or your other hookups?”

“No. You’re the first person I’ve ever brought here.”

The straightforwardness of his answer jars you, and you find you have no quip or jab to respond with. Instead, hesitantly, you lie down too. A few inches away from him, but he makes no move to grab you or pull you closer. A large part of you is relieved, but you want to strangle the tiny part of you that’s disappointed that he’s not touched you.

“It’s nice.” You say finally.

“Yeah, I come here sometimes. To admire the nature or whatever.”

That makes you pause, and you look at him incredulously. He’s lying there with his eyes closed, yet he’s got a completely straight face.

“You? Admiring nature?”

Ari scoffs, “Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes, actually.” You can’t imagine Ari of all people, who only cared about basketball, partying and sex, to be one with nature. Unless it was weed. “What aspect fascinated you the most?”

There’s a long beat of silence.

“I don’t know, the plants and shit?”

You can’t help but burst out laughing. And it feels good, to just let go and laugh for a bit. To just forget about how shitty you feel and just laugh. Even if it’s just for a moment, to just forget about how awful Ari’s been to you in the past, how awful Steve turned out to be too, just forget it all and allow yourself to laugh. And you can’t even remember the last time you laughed.

“Haha, very funny,” Ari rolls his eyes, but you can see the slight smile playing on his lips before he clears his throat. “Alright fine, I couldn’t give a fuck about nature. But I do like this place, it’s good for when I need to think.” He hesitates, “When I was dating Sharon, I felt like I never had the space to really think, and so I’d come here.”

You cease your laughter immediately at the mention of her name. Now that you were friends with Sharon, it made it a lot harder to talk about her with Ari. Because now, she was actually a person to you rather than some distant illusion that you tried not to think about. And it wasn’t her fault that Ari felt he couldn’t think with her around. She wasn’t the villain here, Ari was.

You clear your throat, heart suddenly beating very fast. “C-Could I ask you a question? And please don’t lie, okay? Just be honest with me, Ari. For once.”

He nods, not saying anything else.

“Were there others?” You ask hushedly, your tone wavering slightly as you voice the thought you’ve never wanted to speak into existence, never even dared to wonder about. “Was I just one of many girls that you were cheating on her with?”

Ari sits up, rubbing his temple. You watch him carefully, watch how his eyes scrunch shut before opening. He blinks several times, his lips pressed into a thin line before they part and he exhales slowly. Then, he turns your way, looking you dead in the eye.

“No. There were other girls before you, but once I slept with you, it was only you from then on out.”

“Yeah, me and Sharon.” You say bitterly, although the guilt is eating you up inside. You feel guilty for even feeling hurt or bitter, because he was never yours to begin with. Sharon was the girlfriend – she had every right to feel hurt and bitter. You? You were just the other woman. All you should be feeling was guilt and shame. Especially since here you were, out alone with him again when you’d vowed yourself you wouldn’t do this.

You sit back up too, and he makes a move to grab your hand but you shuffle away quickly. You hug your knees, resting your chin against them as you huddle into yourself. You can feel his gaze penetrating holes into you, but you only focus on the steady flow of water in the stream.

“Even with Sharon, it didn’t feel right sleeping with her. Not after I’d been with you.”

 “Then why didn’t you break up with her?” Your voice breaks at the last second, and you turn away from him so he can’t see the lone tear that trails down one side of your face. Just a second ago you’d been laughing and now here you were, crying over the same question that had plagued your mind for months. The question that had been beaten to death, and yet you knew you’d never get a straight up, honest response.

Ari sighs, and you hear him moving closer to you. A second later, he takes hold of your chin, gently turning your face back to him.

“Hey, listen to me. I was an asshole, okay?” He sucks in a breath, closing his eye again for a handful of seconds. You want to look away but you can’t help but watch him, watch as he breathes, watch as he finally opens his mouth again. “Before you came along, I was this guy… This hotshot guy who could do whatever and everyone would just worship the ground I walked on. And, well, I guess I thrived on that. I liked how easily I could use women. I knew I had a girlfriend but I liked how I could get any girl to sleep with me–”

“I don’t want to hear this,” you mumble, pushing away from him.

“No, wait, I’m just trying to explain myself.” He runs a hand through his mane impatiently, “Look, I’ll admit it. All those times I strung you along, it was to feed my own ego. For a while, it felt like I was on top of the world, like I had two girls and neither of them knew any better, and–”

“Stop telling me this,” your voice hitches, more tears rolling down your cheeks.

“I was being a fucking asshole, that’s what I’m trying to say!” Ari grabs your hand as if to stop you from running away, a note of frustration in his tone. Or was it desperation? “I’ve never been good with voicing my feelings and all of that shit, but that’s what I’m trying to do right now. When I saw you with Steve, it’s like he was taking my girl, taking away everything I’ve always wanted. The night of the party, and then again at the game, when I saw you with him… It got me so fucking heated, and I’d never felt like that before. It felt like I was wasting my time in a relationship I clearly didn’t want to be in, and he was moving in on the girl I did want to be with.”

You look up at him, breathing heavily yet not daring to say a word.

“I’m sorry for lying to you, I’m sorry for using you. I’m sorry that it took you being with someone else for me to finally wake up and realise you’re the only one I’ve wanted this whole time.” His hand slips up to cup your cheek, and it’s like you’re frozen. You don’t know if you want to stop him or if you want to lean into his touch. You don’t know if this moment is even real. If this stream is real or if the woods are real or if Ari is real or if he really is saying everything you’ve ever wanted him to say.

“Why couldn’t you have said all this before?” You say shakily, afraid to look him in the eyes in case you see anything other than sincerity, in case you see even an inkling, even the tiniest spark of a hint that he was manipulating you.

“I was immature.” He continues to wipe your tears, before making you look up at him. “I was just so wrapped up in being the guy who could have any girl I wanted, but I promise you I’ve grown out of that now.”

“Really?” Your voice comes out so small, filled with hope mixed with a bit of hesitance.

Ari nods, “You said before that people don’t change overnight. But if you let me show you, I’ll prove to you that I have. And that I’m serious about us.”

Ice queen persona be damned. You feel more tears well up in your eyes. “Y-You are?”

“Yes. I wasn’t going to mention this but…” He runs a hand through his hair, brushing back a wayward lock that flops over his forehead, before taking hold of your hand, “There was an NBA scout at the last game. He said they want to sign me, that a lot of teams are eyeing me as a draft pick.”

Oh. The NBA. That put everything into perspective for you. He wasn’t like you, with three and a half years of college ahead of you. No, he was almost done… And then he’d be gone. You’re happy for him – the NBA was a huge deal after all. But you also feel a little sick, like time’s going by too quickly, like maybe you’re not ready to let go yet after all.

Your mind also briefly flits to Steve. Had he been approached by an NBA scout too? You think back to when you’d last seen him, outside your dorm room with the dark circles under his eyes, the withdrawn look on his face. He didn’t look like someone who’d just been scouted by the NBA. Oh God, were you feeling bad for him now?!

“Congratulations.” You say slowly, not really knowing how to feel. Suddenly, you’re hyper aware of Ari holding your hand, and now it’s like you don’t want him to let go.

“The reason I’m telling you this is because I have it all planned out. Our future.” Ari continues, looking more serious than you’ve ever seen him look. “I know you’ll still be in school, but I really think we could make it work. And by the time you graduate, I’ll have made it. We could settle down together, and I’d make it all up to you. That’s how serious I am about us.”

You simply just stare at him in complete awe. Who was this man? It was like an alien from outer space had taken over Ari’s body. Because the Ari Levinson you knew was a manipulator and a cheater. A man who stayed away from commitment with a ten-foot pole, a man who had just now professed to you that he enjoyed two-timing his girlfriend because it made him feel like he was on top of the world.

And yet… And yet you’re only just a girl, and you can’t help but picture the story his words are painting for you. Just indulge yourself a little bit, just a tiny little bit… You know you’re teetering on thin ice, and you know how dangerous it is to allow yourself hope when it comes to Ari. Hadn’t he squandered your hope time and time again for all those months he never made you his girlfriend?

But you can’t help but imagine, can’t help but think maybe this time he means what he says…

“We could buy a house in the countryside?” You whisper.

Ari cracks a smile, “Sure. And you could pop out a few Levinson babies too, make cheese sandwiches for all of them.”

“I’d have to establish myself as a model or a fashion designer before that.” You say, feeling the corners of your lips twitch upwards as you dare yourself to dream.

He looks amused, “Fashion designer, yes. Model, no. Too many pervy photographers.”

“I’ll be a model if I want to be one!”

“No.”

“Yes!”

“No way.”

“Yes way!”

“Fine. I’ll be in the NBA and you can be a model. Maybe. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” He chucks you under the chin playfully, like how he used to do all the time. And you giggle, feeling like you’re floating. Like the two of you are encased in a bubble and you’re floating and time’s standing still and just for this one moment you could pretend everything was alright and your future with him was as secure as he was making it out to be.

“And you’d never lie to me again?”

He nods, “I wouldn’t. Never again.” And then he takes a deep breath, “There’s this fundraising gala thing coming up, and I’m supposed to win an award. I’d love it if you could come with me as my date.” He says with a note of seriousness in his tone, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.

But rather than let you answer, he instead cups your face with both hands, pressing his forehead against yours. Immediately, the smile on your face freezes, and now you can feel every pore, every muscle, every cell in your body screaming. Screaming for what? For him to kiss you? Oh God…

“Let me kiss you,” he breathes out of nowhere, sounding like he’s parched. “Please, baby. I know I’ve fucked up but I want to kiss you so bad right now.”

“Oh, Ari…”

“Please.”

You never thought you’d live to see the day where Ari Levinson was begging you for anything. It was such a stark contrast from how your relationship had begun, almost as if the tables had turned now. Were tables capable of turning that quickly? Or was this all part of an act? Oh, you’re sick of asking yourself that question! What’s real and true is that earnesty in his eyes, and you want to kiss him so bad too. So fucking bad.

He moves closer, and so do you. Inch by inch, almost like first-time lovers. His lips purse slightly, looking so warm and soft and inviting. Closer, so close that they brush against yours for a second, and you can hear him breathing and you know he can hear you too. You wonder if he can hear your heart too, hear how it beats louder for him than it does for anyone else.

“We shouldn’t…” you murmur, but your words are laced with doubt. Just one kiss, your mind cajoles you, just one kiss won’t hurt.

There’s a gentle breeze around the two of you, swirling softly. Rustling through his hair, feeling cool against your face. Encasing the two of you in a private whirlpool where it’s just you two, and the sound of the stream, and the beat of your hearts.

“I know, but I want to so bad,” Ari’s hands are cupping your face so tenderly, his thumbs stroking your cheekbones as he slowly angles your face upwards. “Please, let me kiss you. Just once.”

It’s like the breeze jostles you forward, as if the universe wants you to kiss him. Your willpower’s hanging on by just a thread, your mind swarming with memories of every time you and him had kissed in the past. How magical it had felt for you, how it felt like you could never find someone who’d kiss you like that again. Oh, fuck your willpower!

He surges forward one last time, but his lips have barely touched yours before you pull away, turning your head to the side. Breathing hard, the anticipation still burning through your body in waves. Heart beating like crazy, and yet you swallow and shake your head.

“Ari, we can’t,” you force yourself to say firmly.

Ari sits back, looking slightly dazed and yet running a hand through his hair in frustration. For a second, you wonder if he’ll be mad, call you a tease for leading him on. Call you a slut, tell you how the least you could do was kiss him in return for all he’d done for you today. But he just sighs thoughtfully.

“Not until I come clean to Sharon about everything,” You explain, “And I know about the gala, Sharon told me. I-I’m actually going with her and Wanda, like a girls’ night.”

He raises an eyebrow before nodding slowly, “Well, as long as I get to see you there when I go up on stage to accept the award.”

“Yeah, but we can’t talk or interact or anything. Sharon’s my friend now, and I owe her the truth before anything more can happen between us.”

Ari gazes at you carefully, but there’s a hopeful glint in his eye. “So, it’s just the Sharon issue then. You forgive me for everything else?”

You hesitate. Well, did you? Did you forgive him for leading you on? Lying to you multiple times? Manipulating you? Leaving you drunk and high and alone in a party bathroom? God, why did he have to remind you of the asshole he’d been all this time, up until very recently? It pops the bubble your mind has created right now, the one that you and him were encased in, in this little clearing in the woods.

“I don’t know if I forgive you.” You say honestly, hoping he doesn’t question you further.

To your surprise, he doesn’t. Instead, he lies back down on the grass, stretching his long limbs out to make himself comfortable. You watch him as he lazily grabs another cheese sandwich from the picnic basket, wolfing it down before offering you one. Stifling a smile, you shake your head.

Ari shrugs, “Well fine, more for me.”

And it’s later, after the two of you sit there by the stream in comfortable silence for a little while longer. After he’s piggy-backed you back to his car, and after he’s driven you back home. It’s when he’s pulling up to your building, that he puts his hand on your knee to make you look at him.

“I know you said before that nobody changes overnight, but that doesn’t mean I won’t stop trying until you see that I have.” He says firmly, his hand feeling so warm on your leg, causing heatwaves to radiate up and down your whole being. “And I know you, baby. I know you like me too. I know you want this to work out between us too. And it will. Once you tell Sharon, and we’re free to be together, everything’s gonna work out. You’ll see.”

Oh, he was so cocky! And yet, it’s a different type of cockiness than what you’ve usually come to associate with him. It’s more of an honest sincerity, this confidence that one day you’ll be his. And oh, you want to believe him! You really do! You want to believe in a perfect world where Ari proves himself to be more than just a manipulative fuckboy, a world where Sharon understands and forgives you for everything.

A world where you forget all about Steve Rogers, and never find yourself thinking about him… Thinking about what could have been.

You say nothing, not until he’s carried you back into your dorm room. Not until he’s about to leave. That’s when you speak.

“Ari?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

He looks surprised, as if he hadn’t really been expecting you to say anything at all after his whole speech. The truth was, you’d been silent for a while now, ever since the two of you had almost kissed in the woods. But there’s a newfound serenity inside you, a feeling that wasn’t there before.

“For what?” He asks, a shy little smile on his face. One you’ve never seen on him before.

For bringing me outside. For taking me to your special place. For not making a big deal out of it when I didn’t want to kiss you. For carrying me. For not losing your patience with me. For making me laugh. For making me smile again.

“For the cheese sandwiches.”

***

The night of the gala is cold for springtime, the blustering winds revving up and roaring to life. Looking outside your window, you can see the smaller trees swaying roughly against the unforgiving nature of what looks to be the beginnings of a windstorm. It gives you a peculiar foreboding feeling, listening to the ominous whistling of the winds, so loud as if they’re warning you. You back away from your window, and yet something inside you doesn’t close it and lock it as you know you should.

You float back over to your vanity table, feeling pretty in your new dress that you and Sharon had gone shopping for, just how she’d promised. You haven’t felt this pretty in a long time, and as you gaze at your reflection, you feel another pang of foreboding. Quickly, you busy yourself with powdering your nose and fixing your hair, wondering if maybe you should have agreed to get ready with Wanda and Sharon after all. You’d told them you wanted some alone time before the busyness of the gala. Some time to yourself where you could draw a bubble bath, and then shave and pluck and preen and pamper yourself till you felt somewhat ready for the big night out.

And it had made you feel better, your solo pamper session. Sure, your thoughts had spun into overdrive as they always did. Replaying all your recent interactions with Ari, with Steve, even with Sharon. The reflection made you chuckle at one point, because when had your life become so like a tumultuous soap opera? With secrets and lies and betrayal and deceit coming from all corners?

A loud gust of wind knocks you out of your reverie, and again you feel it. The feeling that something big is swirling up in the atmosphere, like the howling wind itself is trying to warn you that soon, it would all come to head.

“Fuck you! Try an’ scratch me again and see what happens!”

Your head snaps up at the sound of the familiar male voice. And it’s the proximity that makes your heart skip a beat. The voice sounded close, like it was coming from mere feet away from you. Fearfully, you look back at your window, only to see that same angelic face you know so well seemingly levitating outside.

“Steve?” You whisper, blinking several times. He doesn’t seem to hear you, and you wonder whether you’re imagining things. Slowly, you venture forward, back to your window which lies open. And that’s where you find him, standing on the ledge outside of your bedroom window which was two storeys high.

Steve whacks a wayward branch that looks to be tangled in his jacket. And his movements are oddly sluggish as he flips the bird at the tree adjacent to your building which the brand is attached to. “Damn stupid fuckin’ tree, tryna pick a fight with me,” he mutters before his eyes fall on you, and they brighten up instantly, “Hey, baby girl, fancy seeing you here!”

And then he bursts into a fit of giggles, while you just stare at him in awe, your mind still not having come to terms with the fact that Steve had somehow climbed all the way up to your window. In the dark. With the wind blustering insanely around him. Warily, you peek downwards, heart jumping all the way up to your throat when you see how he’s just casually balancing on the extremely thin ledge, the street below looking very minuscule with how high up your floor was.

“How did you get up here?” You breathe, still half in shock that he’s here that you forget how explosively your last encounter with him had gone down.

“Who, me?”

“Yes, of course you. Who else!?”

He shrugs, “Scaled that tree over there, then it decided to scratch me so I fought it off an’ jumped onto the ledge. Now here I am!” He ends his explanation with a flourish that causes him to stumble backwards. It almost happens in slow motion; you don’t even have a chance to react to what you’re seeing. But he catches his balance again just in time, grinning up at you mischievously.

“Whoops!” He laughs heartily, a type of laugh you’ve never really heard from him before. He shuffles along the ledge till he finds a spot he’s more comfortable with, leaning in through your window and shooting you a smile, “almost fell to my death there, didn’t I?”

“Steve, you need to get back down. You’ll hurt yourself.” You bite your lip, wondering whether you should let him in through your window just so he’d be safe. But the thought of being alone with him within the four walls of a bedroom again gives you the creeps, and so you refrain.

“Maybe I want to hurt myself,” he answers, staring at you almost quizzically. His lips are full, his cheeks flushed. His hair looks longer and even more unkempt than last time, that stubble still on his face, his eyes dark and unfocused. It was weird, because you’d always known Steve to be meticulously well-groomed and almost preppy with his clean-cut good looks. He was still handsome as ever now, but he looks darker, almost tortured, with dark bags under his eyes and even his cheeks looked kind of hollow.

“I’m serious, climb back down.”

“I just wanted to see you again,” he breathes softly, and his entire expression morphs to tender as he reaches out to touch your face. “And I knew you wouldn’t let me in the normal way.”

You can’t help but flinch away, and he sighs, bringing his hand back down to grip at your windowsill, “You’re so pretty.”

That’s when you smell it. Vodka. Suddenly, his erratic behaviour makes a lot more sense. His pupils are dark and blown out, and he’s swaying dangerously on the spot.

“You’re drunk, Steve.”

“Nah,” he bats his hand dismissively, but with such force that he stumbles forward. And again, your heart lurches in your throat, thinking he’s going to fall. But lithely, he grabs on to something or the other, regains his balance, and flashes you another smile, “okay, maybe a little bit. But being drunk helps.”

You frown, not knowing whether to feel scared or concerned, “What do you mean?”

He shrugs, “Helps to forget all the shitty stuff.”

A wave of anger passes through you, “Shitty stuff? You mean like all the awful things you said to me when you tried to force yourself on me?” Hell, maybe you should be the one drinking if it meant you could forget how he’d called you an easy slut.

Steve bows his head, still swaying slightly, “I’m so sorry, baby.”

“Don’t call me baby.”

“Okay. I’m sorry, sweetie.”

“Stop it, Steve. I’m serious.”

He sighs again, “So am I. I hate how I lose control like that. It’s like I zone out, and something takes over me and I’m there on fucking standby. Watching this one version of myself lash out and say all these shitty things an’ I can’t do anything to stop it.  And when I zone back in, it’s too late an’ I can’t take anything back.”

He explains with surprising eloquence, despite being so drunk.  And God, why did he have to look all rugged and heartbroken right now? Dismissing him would be so much easier if he was ugly.

There’s an emotion swelling up inside you as you look at him now, but you try to suppress it. Instead, remembering your ice queen persona, you cross your arms over your chest and force yourself to narrow your eyes. “Is that your explanation? That you zoned out? Because honestly, the lack of accountability–”

“I don’t think you’re a slut,” Steve interrupts you, “you’re sweet, and beautiful, and innocent. That’s what I thought the night I first saw you. And sure, I guess I used you because I was trying to get back at him–”

You flinch. There it was again. The reminder that Steve had indeed used you. And you’d fallen for it… Hook, line and sinker.

“–but at least I’m honest enough to admit it. Doesn’t that count for something?”

He finishes, blinking up at you with large eyes framed with those impossibly thick lashes, as if waiting for you to respond. When you don’t, he sighs, swaying again as another strong gust of wind attacks from the outside.

“I like you a lot, okay? I know I haven’t known you as long as he has, but it doesn’t matter. I think what we have is special.”  He swallows, his eyes squinting as he searches across the plains of your face, either trying to gauge your thoughts or trying to come up with the right words to say next. “And I know I fucked it up because that’s what I always do. So fuck it, I don’t care anymore.”

He shoves his hand inside his jacket, conjuring up a glass bottle of Gray Goose vodka out of what seems to be thin air. Your jaw drops open as you watch him take a hearty swig from it – and it was already half empty!

“Okay, that was a lie. I do still care.” He wipes his mouth roughly, stumbling about and still very much on the window ledge. “There’s just so much going on inside my head,” he says, and he demonstrates by smacking the side of his head with his open palm, “School, basketball, taking care of Kira – all of it just keeps building up. And I try my best, okay?” He loses his footing and sways some more, “but it’s never enough, and all my thoughts get louder and louder, like voices fucking screaming inside my head, and then I just explode. And I get so fucking angry, and it’s always directed towards the wrong people – whoops!”

He slips. You cry out in terror and impulsively grab hold of his arm. But he regains his balance and barks out a laugh, as if he’s tripped whilst taking a simple stroll in the park and not currently balancing on top of a very high and very dangerous ledge.

“It wouldn’t matter if I fell, you know?” He muses, taking another long swig of the vodka. And he doesn’t even flinch as the bitter liquid goes down his throat, as if the taste no longer has any effect on him. “I mean, my life’s a fucking mess already. Basketball’s completely fucked, anyways…”

“What do you mean?” You ask, your heart pitter-pattering in fear. His overtly reckless behaviour is scaring you, and you realise you’re holding your breath as you watch him callously standing there.

Steve shrugs, “Got kicked off the team today.”

Oh. You feel a surge of pity. And you know you shouldn’t. Not after how he treated you. And yet you can’t help it. Tonight, Ari was going to win an award for being the best basketball player of the season, and in the summer, he was going to the NBA. You can’t help but feel for Steve’s starkly different fortune.

He takes another gulp of vodka, “Coach said I couldn’t control my emotions and I’d keep costing the team if I continued playing.” He gazes off into the distance, and you try to gauge his expression but it’s quite unreadable. He laughs bitterly and smiles again, but it looks more like a grimace, “Fuck him. He’s right, but fuck him anyways.”

“Steve, this is dangerous. You could fall–”

“Fuck basketball,” he continues swaying around like he hasn’t even heard you, “it’s not like I was ever gonna make it to the NBA, anger issues or not. No, I have to become a surgeon. Like my parents.” His words slur and ring with sarcasm, and he barks out another laugh, “If I don’t fuck that up too…”

“I’m sorry that happened, but–”

He scoffs, “Can’t even fucking imagine being a doctor. My patients would probably be scared of me, just like how you are.”

“Please, just get down–”

“And Kira…” His expression morphs from bitter to sad in less than a second, and he clutches your hand suddenly. The one that you hadn’t realised was still holding on to his arm. And you don’t pull away, almost like you don’t want to. Either that, or you want to keep hold of him so he doesn’t fall.

Steve coughs, “God, I wish I took care of her better. I feel so fucking guilty, living on campus while she lives by herself in our house. Our parents are never home, they don’t even know what she went through… How she doesn’t even speak to anyone but me, how she doesn’t go out anymore...”

Another long swig. It’s a wonder the bottle isn’t empty yet. You want to interject, beg him once more to climb back down to safety, or at least hand you the vodka so he doesn’t drink anymore. But he’s not done speaking, and cuts you off when you try to get a word in edgewise.

“My parents, the award-winning heart surgeons!” He raises the vodka bottle up in the air in a mock toast, “They’re here, there, everywhere around the fucking world!” Another swig, more swaying. “Everywhere except for at fucking home. So then I have to handle everything, don’t I?”

“Steve–”

“They don’t even know how bad she’s gotten, how their own daughter’s shut herself off from everyone.” Steve shakes his head in both resignation and frustration, “and I try so fucking hard, okay? Try to help her with her anxiety, help her make new friends. God, all I do is worry about her. And school. And basketball. While they jet across the world doing their fancy surgeries and not giving a damn about her or me. Fuck them!”

Whoa. Wow. Okay. Now, you look at Steve with new eyes – you had no idea there was so much going on in his life, in his head. It still didn’t excuse the way he’d spoken to you, the way he’d forced himself on you – and yet… Yet you can’t help but feel another pang of sorrow and pity for him.

His eyes are dark and stormy as he looks out into the early evening sky, before looking back to you. His gaze falls down to your hand holding on to his arm, and he smiles softly.

“You were the only thing in my life that was good.”

You shake your head, your barriers going back up, and you try to pull your hand away, “No. Stop lying, Steve, just don’t even try it, don’t even–”

��No, it’s true!” He insists, holding on tightly to your hand as if he’s on a sinking ship and you’re his only lifeline. “That one week before I fucked it all up, that one week when we were just texting. I’d be on my phone, smiling like a fucking fool. You can ask Kira! She knew about you because I couldn’t stop talking to her about you.”

You bite your lip, and despite everything, you find yourself wanting to believe him so bad. Suddenly, a strong gust of wind has Steve clutching your hand even harder as he teeters on the ledge, bringing his face closer to yours, his eyes hooded and lashes fanning over those impossibly sharp cheekbones.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says.

“Don’t, Steve…”

He sighs, breaking eye contact as he plays with the glass bottle in his hand. But his other hand seems to move off its own accord, his pointer finger trailing up your bare arm. And it’s so intimate, that simple touch, leaving a trail of fire and goosebumps in its wake. Your skin feels like it’s buzzing, burning almost, as he traces his finger up your shoulder blade, as if he’s testing to see how much you’d let him touch you.

“I miss you.”

You feel your resolve crumbling…

“No, you don’t. All we did was text for one week. We never even went on a date, so you can’t possibly miss what you never had.”

“And yet I still miss you.”

He leans in, his eyes fluttering shut. His lips look so pink, so warm, so hesitantly inviting. Slightly pursed, as if he doesn’t know if it’s going to happen but he’s going to try anyways. Another sharp gust of wind blows past, almost pushing him into you as if even the universe itself is cajoling you to just give in to him. You can smell the alcohol on his pores, and yet you can also feel his warmth, his musky cologne, the way his breath hitches as if he can’t believe this kiss is actually happening…

Except you turn your head at the last second, and he sighs.

“Should’ve seen that coming,” he says to the evening sky, “lost my place on the team, lost my girl, I wonder what I’ll lose next? You wanna take any guesses? Hey, maybe I’ll lose my balance! That would be funny, wouldn’t it?”

You watch as he looks down, all the way down to the ground with a peculiar gleam in his eye. The type of gleam that reflects that he’s a man with nothing to lose. And it’s a long way down. What the hell was he thinking?!

“He really fucked her up,” Steve murmurs softly to himself, a whisper that almost gets lost in the great gusts of wind that swirl around the two of you. “And I tried to do something about it, tried to get back at him, but I fucked it up. I always fuck up. Maybe it’s best if I just–”

“Steve, stop it! Stop being so reckless!”

You tug hard at his arm, and at the same time a heavy wind blows. Steve stumbles again, but mercifully, he falls forward instead of back. Through your window and right on top of you. You both land on the floor with a thud, and despite how drunk he is, he manages to bring his hands out in front of him, preventing you from getting crushed by his huge frame.

“Whoops. Sorry, baby.”

He flashes you a cocky smile, as if he hadn’t just been teetering on your window ledge in the middle of a sad, drunken rant. The bottle of vodka is still snugly clutched between his fingers, somehow having also survived the fall onto your hard bedroom floor.

You open your mouth to tell him to get off of you, but the words die inside your throat. Instead, you look up at him, at his face so close to yours. So close that his nose is an inch away from brushing against your own. And his eyes, navy and blown out and yet still so pretty, blink down at you imploringly. The last time, when you’d been in his bedroom, they’d looked so stormy and far away. And here, now, he was drunk and yet he looked present. And you realise that you don’t feel unsafe at all.

“I really, really want to kiss you right now,” Steve says, slurring and stumbling over his words.

“Don’t.” You warn him, although you notice your own lack of conviction. In that moment, had he actually done it you don’t think you’d have objected too much. But you don’t want to give in to him, not after how scary he’d been last time. Despite everything, you still haven’t forgotten.

He nods slowly, “I know, fuck, I know…”

Shakily, he gets off of you, swaying slightly as he gets on his feet, and then he yanks you up too. Before you can stop him, he takes another swig of vodka before his eyes once again settle on you.

You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard, biting his lip as his dark eyes drink you in. In your form-fitting emerald dress that wraps around your body like a second skin of smooth satin. The ruching which accentuates your curves even more, the delicate lace detailing, the smooth dip of your cleavage. The gleam of your bare legs that peak through the slit of the dress. The demure heels that makes them look longer than ever. And yet you can’t help but shift shyly under his intense gaze.

“You’re all dressed up,” Steve says softly, reaching out to touch you before thinking better of it, curling his outstretched hand into a fist and pushing it down to his side, “You look… incredible.”

“Th-Thank you.”

“You going somewhere?”

“Uh… yes.”

He nods before his brow furrows, “Is he taking you out?”

“What–?”

“Levinson. Is he taking you out? Are you two together now?” His tone hardens, and you feel your heart jump up to your throat. Oh, please let him not get all angry again like how he did last time!

“No.” You say firmly, “There’s this gala, this fundraiser thing at the Hilton Hotel. That’s where I’m going. Me and Sharon and Wanda.”

“No Levinson?”

You shake your head, “N-No, Steve.” It was only white lie, because you weren’t going with Ari and you probably wouldn’t speak to him tonight. It was a girl’s night out, if anything. Plus, you’re scared that Steve might flip out if he knew that Ari would be there too.

“You promise?” He looks at you meaningfully, and he’s got that same intense look again. The look you’ve grown to associate with him, that eery, almost glassy stare. “Promise me, Y/N. Promise me that you aren’t going out with Ari.”

You don’t owe him anything, certainly not any promises. And yet, yet you can’t help but nod, “I promise, Steve. In fact, Sharon and Wanda are on their way to pick me up.”

Steve nods approvingly, looking somewhere beyond you. His eyes look sad once again, and he takes another long, lingering sip of vodka. “Good girl. You stay away from him, okay? All he does is hurt people.” He shakes his head, his mouth pulling downwards in a grimace, “He hurt her so bad.”

You frown, “Hurt who? Sharon?”

The blond doesn’t answer, but he continues talking to himself. “What did she ever do to him? He didn’t give a damn about her, and now look at her…”

You feel an uneasy wave of guilt, “You mean Sharon, don’t you? I know…”

Steve frowns, opening his mouth to answer you before he grows distracted by something beyond your shoulder. A slow smile spreads across his face, and he stumbles over to your desk in the corner of the room.

“My jacket!” He grabs the blue and white varsity jacket he’d given you the night of the party, “You still have it. You kept it.”

“You can take it back!” You say quickly, a bit too quickly judging by how his face falls. Quickly, he drops the jacket as if it’s made of hot coals, a bitter look enveloping his features.

“You should throw it away. Or burn it.” He says simply, throwing his head back and taking a hearty sip of his vodka, “thought you would’ve looked cute wearing it to one of my games but I since I won’t be playing anymore, there’s no point anymore, is there?”

What follows is an uncomfortable silence. And oh, why was he making you feel bad for him now?! After everything he’d said and done? But then he’d apologised too… Were you being too hard on him? Now you feel more confused than ever!

You sigh, “Steve… Look, I just don’t know how to act around you. One second, you’re so intense, and you’re calling me a slut, and you’re being all scary. And then the next it’s like your entire personality changes. And I just… I don’t know what to believe, okay?”

“Why can’t you just believe that I’m sorry for what happened? I’m sorry for all of it.”

You shift uncomfortably, looking down at your heel-clad feet. You wrack your brain, trying to choose your next words carefully, “I… do believe that you’re sorry.”

He stands there expectantly, as if waiting for you to say something more, to say that you forgive him, perhaps? But you don’t think you do. Do you? A few more empty seconds pass before he clears his throat.

“They put me on some kind of medication. Added it to the ones I already take.” He volunteers, breaking the silence. He avoids your gaze now, instead focusing on his bottle of vodka, tossing it from one hand to the other and tapping at the glass. “For my anger and mood swings, or whatever.”

You nod, “That’s good, right? You saw a doctor?”

He snorts, “No. My parents just heard about me flipping out and contacted the family physician Got him to prescribe me all these different pills. But this,” he raises the vodka up in the air and waves it around, “This helps more than any medication ever could. It stops all the screaming in my head. And luckily, Mom and Dad left the house full of booze, so I’m all good to go.”

You nod slowly, furrowing your brow, “Steve, maybe you shouldn’t be drinking while you’re on medication–”

Your phone vibrates loudly from its place on your bed, the sound shaking you from the inside out. Even Steve blinks several times, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding as you make your way over to your phone. It’s like the bubble of intensity the two of you have been encased in has popped, and now you’re back in the real world. It was crazy, because being inside the bubble felt intoxicating, like everything was moving in slow motion, like you were in some sort of fairytale and the troubled prince had just climbed in through your window.

Your screen glows with a new text.

Sharon: We’re on our way! Wanda’s already so drunk lol we’ll be there in ten minutes!

Oh no. You’d rather your friends didn’t run into a drunken Steve Rogers when they came to pick you up. Especially not when you were supposed to have sworn off men anyways.

“Steve, you–”

“–I need to go,” he completes sombrely, picking at a piece of loose thread on the sleeve of his expensive-looking sweater, “I know, I know.” His eyes narrow, “That wasn’t Ari, was it? Who texted you just now?”

“No.” 

He relaxes, “Good. Okay, I guess I’ll leave then.”

You chew your bottom lip anxiously, “H-How will you get back? You didn’t drive here yourself, did you?”

He waves your question off as if it isn’t important, backing away towards your door, “You don’t worry about me, sweetheart.”

“Steve Rogers, don’t you dare drive back home in the state you’re in!”

He just stares at you, that same bittersweet look on his face. Finally, he nods, “I’ll be fine. I came here with Bucky.”

You nod, “Okay, then. As long as you don’t drive…”

Steve shoots you a sad smile, one that doesn’t really reach his eyes. His eyes that are still glued on just you, only you. He crosses his hand over his chest, “I promise I won’t. Scout’s honour… Although I was never a scout, so who knows if you can take my word. Ha ha.”

He finally makes it to your door, almost as if he’d been walking in slow motion, wading through quicksand. Why? Because he didn’t want to leave? And you feel a lump in your throat, one that won’t go no matter how many times you swallow. There’s an odd yearning inside you, like an itch on your hand. No, an itch in your heart. Your fingers twitch as if wanting to reach out to touch him. Did you not want him to leave, either?

You press your lips together, rooting yourself in place as you watch him go. At the last second, he turns back around again.

“I am sorry, okay? Sorry about everything.”

Once more, all you do is nod. The expectancy in his eyes fades away and he sighs, his hand resting on the doorknob as he goes to shut the door. 

A second passes. But it feels like the longest second you’ve ever lived. Like your heart seems to beat about a thousand times in that one second, like a drum reaching crescendo. Feeling like you’ve reached that part in the movie, that page in the book where the climax happens and then everyone can breathe again. Outside, the winds seem to be charging up again, readying themselves for an almighty, blustering blow. And you can feel the booming whistle of the winds ringing all around you, when you suddenly drop your phone on your bed and rush over to the door before you can think better of it.

“Steve, wait!”

You press your lips to his in a searing kiss, catching him completely off-guard. He stumbles back slightly, either by how strongly you’ve jumped on him or because of his own inebriation. Either way, he recovers quickly, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you against him as he reciprocates your kiss.

And you don’t know why you’re kissing him, but it’s like your body’s gone past the point of rationale. Like your lips and your limbs have a mind of their own and your brain is no longer part of the conversation. And Steve’s lips feel so soft, and this time you feel like it’s you in control. He’s too drunk to take charge, you suspect, as his lips move languidly against yours.

Your hands cup his face, his bristly skin pricking the pads of your fingers, and yet it doesn’t bother you. Not when he’s kissing so softly, so cautiously like he’s afraid he could hurt you again. It’s you who presses your tongue against his, stroking it, biting and nipping at his lips. He smirks at your overexcitement, finally injecting more passion into the kiss by tipping your head back slightly and pressing his lips harder against yours.

He tastes like vodka, but you don’t mind. He also tastes kind of sweet, kind of irresistible. And oh, you know this makes no sense! And you know you shouldn’t be kissing him! What about Ari? What about your own dignity? What about swearing off all men? What about–?

You pull away as abruptly as you’d kissed him, and both of you stand there breathless for a handful of seconds. Your lips still tingle pleasantly, and before he can say anything, you gently pry the bottle of vodka from his hand.

“I’ll keep this, okay?” You say softly, holding it behind your back. There’s still quite a bit left in it, and Steve looks like he’s one sip away from disaster. Or at least a very bad headache tomorrow morning. You pray it’s only the latter.

But he’s got a sparkle in his eye now, and he doesn’t spare the vodka a second glance, “It all went away for a second.”

“What went away?”

“All the fucking screaming in my head. All that pressure I was telling you about. Kissing you made it all go away. Your lips are magic, baby girl. Better than the vodka.”

“Oh.” You don’t know what else to say, but you feel a lurching pull in your heart nonetheless.

“Yeah, like I’m numb to it all now. Comfortably numb. And it’s such a fucking relief.” He closes his eyes for a second, as if he’s savouring the feeling. You’re so intently looking at him that you don’t even notice when he grabs your hand, and his eyes flutter open, “So you forgive me?”

You hesitate, “Steve, I…I don’t know.”

His serene smile freezes on his face, and he drops your hand like it’s a hot poker. You feel it again in your heart, that lurching fee ling that you can’t place. You watch as his face falls, almost in slow motion. And it feels like you’re sitting front row in the cinema, watching his expression turn sad, his eyes clouding over once more like he was depending everything on your forgiveness.

“Okay. Goodbye.”

He stumbles out of your room, out into the stairwell where he trips before grabbing on to the banister.

“Steve, please be careful,” you say again, your tone laced with worry.

He glances back at you, that ever-charming smile back on his face. Back from when you’d seen it that first night when you’d met him. Almost like he’s put on a mask. He gives you a sluggish thumbs-up, “I’ll be fine. I’m comfortably numb, remember? I just hope it lasts…”

What the hell did that mean? Should you go after him? You hear your phone vibrate loudly, and you glance back at your bed to see it glowing with several new texts. But then you look back at the stairwell to find it empty. He was gone. Gone like a gust of wind. Gone like he was never there.

But he was. You can still feel him on your lips.

As if in a dream, you float back into your room and pick up your phone. Two new texts.

Sharon: We’re five minutes away! Traffic’s crazy lol.

Ari: Hey. I just want to say that I’m happy you’re coming tonight. Even if we don’t get to speak, just know you’ll be on my mind all night. Fuck. That was cheesy. Anyways. See you there :).

You sink down on your bed, already feeling exhausted and mentally drained. Despite the fact that the night was nowhere near over yet. In fact, it hadn’t even begun.

***

“Where’s Curtis?” Wanda wonders aloud, scanning the sprawling banquet hall and immediately grabbing a flute of champagne from an elegantly dressed waiter holding a tray full of them.

The banquet hall where the gala is being held at the Hilton is reasonably full, and you recognise a bunch of familiar faces from campus – both students and professors. Everyone’s dressed smartly – the men in tuxedos and the women in evening gowns and dresses. Sharon and the decorating committee have done a great job; each table swathed in ivory cloth, with red rose centrepieces and golden gilded chairs. Matching golden lights against an otherwise dark room gives an almost ethereal ambiance.

“He’s probably over on table 2 with the rest of the basketball team,” Sharon nods to a table at the front of the room near the stage. “I did the seating arrangements and the place-cards.”

Predictably, table 2 is the rowdiest table in the entire banquet hall. Clearly, the basketball team didn’t give two fucks about what was considered proper black-tie etiquette. You can see Ransom Drysdale and Andy Barber having some kind of a drinking competition, chugging down wine glass after wine glass as if they were cans of beer. Lloyd is acting like their referee, half on top of the table as he tries eggs them on. Colin is laughing his head off as he looks to be live-streaming this whole performance on his phone. And then there’s Ari.

And oh, he looks so breathtaking! Your heart physically skips a beat when you see him. His brown hair slicked back sexily, but the ends curling around his stiff white collar. His tuxedo looks well-tailored and expensive – Armani probably – and a white bow tie that makes him look more handsome than ever. He’s sat in the middle of his table, looking very much like the leader of his group. A smirk on his face as he watches his teammates horse around, but then his eyes meet yours, and the cocky smirk turns into the most adorably lovesick smile that does not look like it belongs on his face – only because you’ve never really seen him smile like that ever before.

“Oh gosh, there’s Ari,” Sharon says, coming up closer to your side and making you snap your eyes away from her ex-boyfriend immediately. The blonde takes a few deeps breaths to calm herself, “And he’s looking straight at me! Well, who cares? I’m not gonna let him affect my night. In fact, I’m gonna go over to him to prove how unbothered I am–”

Before you know what’s happening, she starts making a beeline straight over to table 2 – with you in tow! Wanda follows, her eyes still searching the room for Curtis as she downs her champagne quickly.

“Hello, Ari,” Sharon says stiffly, hanging on to your arm for dear life. You hope you don’t look as mortified as you feel, watching as Ari looks up at the two of you, his charming little smile still on his face.

“Hi.” He answers her, giving her a quick nod before his eyes shift to you, and you see them sparkle as he looks you up and down, taking in your emerald dress, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards again in another sweet little smile. Oh God, damn him for being so obvious!

“Well, I just came here to congratulate you on your award,” Sharon says, a determinedly happy-yet-nonchalant look plastered on her face. “So, well, congratulations.”

Ari nods again, physically tearing his eyes away from you, “Thanks.”

“Where’s Curtis, you guys?” Wanda interrupts the awkward exchange, looking expectantly at the basketball team. You watch as she grabs another champagne from another cocktail waiter who happens to pass by, downing it as quickly as she had the first.

Ransom snickers, “He’s somewhere around here, sweetheart. But I wouldn’t bother him if I was you, he’s kinda busy.”

Wanda doesn’t even wait for him to finish his sentence before she’s off, weaving across the banquet hall at lightning speed. You watch her, mildly concerned as she grabs yet another glass of champagne, her previous one still in her other hand. She’d been antsy the whole ride over, because apparently Curtis wasn’t texting her back, and hadn’t since last night.

“She’s already a mess,” Sharon murmurs to you under her breath before smiling brightly at Ari, “Well, see you around, Ari.”

He nods at her for the third time, before his eyes rest on you once more. There’s a hint of yearning within them, and his lips twitch as if he wants to say something. Oh, when did it get so easy to read his expressions? Did you know him that well now? He gives you a soft, private smile – one you know is meant just for you. One that seems to convey a thousand words in just a single twitch of a muscle. You almost return it, before remembering who you’re with.

“Thank God, he didn’t bring her,” Sharon mutters to you as the two of you walk away from jock table.

“Huh?”

“The little skank he cheated on me with. I would’ve died if he brought her along as his date.”

You gulp, eyeing one of the champagne flutes yourself. After tonight, you absolutely had to come clean to Sharon. There was no other choice, you’d kept this secret long enough. And if it meant she’d no longer be your friend, then so be it. You deserved that. But no more excuses, you had to tell her tonight after this event was over.

And the event itself is fine. You hang out with Sharon while she makes small talk with a bunch of different people. You don’t talk much, simply staying quiet and observing. People’s outfits, their makeup, their shoes, everything. It’s nice to be out and about again, after spending what felt like an eternity rotting in your dorm room and feeling sorry for yourself. You even find yourself catching Ari’s eye every now and again, and each and every time he’d give you his sweet little private smile that made you want to die. You’d look away, of course, or busy yourself with talking to Sharon or someone else, just so you wouldn’t smile back. Even though you wanted to. You really, really wanted to.

You do get a handful of texts from him though.

Ari: You look beautiful.

Ari: I can’t take my eyes off you.

Ari: Seriously, I don’t think you realise how beautiful you look right now.

You don’t reply, but you know he can see you looking down at your phone and smiling like crazy.

About a half hour into the gala, the hosts beckon everyone to sit at their assigned tables because the award ceremony is about to begin. That’s when you notice that Wanda’s been missing for a while now. You scan the room while a retired basketball coach hobbles his way onto the stage, beginning a very long-winded speech on how he’d single-handedly led the St. Andrews’ team to victory back in 1993. Where the hell was Wanda? You realise you’ve been so wrapped up in the event and playing secret smiling games with Ari from across the room to notice that you hadn’t seen her since the three of you had arrived here.

Luckily, you spot her stumbling towards the bathrooms that are in a corridor off the main banquet hall. Stumbling being the key word, and you quietly curse yourself for allowing her to drink so much. God, Ari was just so distracting! Even when you weren’t even speaking to him, just his presence alone was making you forget about everyone else!

You tell Sharon you’re going to get Wanda before quietly sneaking away, hoping to discreetly bring her back before she wanders off somewhere else. You just hope

“Wanda, hey! Wait up!” You catch up to her, “Let’s go back to the banquet hall.”

Wanda rolls her eyes, “Leave me alone, Y/N. I’m looking for my boyfriend.”

Oh. She still hadn’t found him yet?

“C’mon, our table’s this way,” you try again, grabbing her hand, about to lead her away. Then you notice her eyes light up as she looks beyond your shoulder.

“Baby, there you are!” Wanda slurs brightly, snatching her hand out of your grip and making a beeline down the hall. You whip around to see Curtis closing the bathroom door behind him, his other hand wiping his mouth. His tie loose around his neck and top collar button undone. And you also see a tiny brunette in a silver dress slip out of the bathroom behind him, the dim lights of the hallway swallowing her up as she slinks away into the darkness, Wanda not even noticing her.

“Wanda.” Curtis blinks, looking entirely unperturbed. “You’re here.”

She hits him playfully on the shoulder, “Of course, I’m here. I came with the girls, remember? And I wanted to support you!”

He scratches the back of his head, “Yeah. Cool. Look, I’m gonna go back to the boys–”

“Great, let’s go!” Wanda links her arm with his, making his jaw tense and eyebrow raise. And you watch this whole ordeal with a sinking feeling in your stomach.

“Babe, remember how I told you this event was a no date kind of thing?” Curtis carefully peels himself away from her, making her pout. You cringe when she doesn’t get the message, grabbing his bicep again, her manicured nails like talons holding on with all her might.

“But I missed you, baby,” Wanda smiles up at him drunkenly. “I’ve been looking for you all night!”

Curtis visibly cringes, “Come on, babe, don’t be like this.” Again, he dislodges his arm from her grip, pushing her off of him not-so-gently. “I’m here with the team tonight, but I promise I’ll come by your room later. Maybe. Like way after midnight probably.”

You can’t hide your disgust, openly frowning and shaking your head at him. God, why did all men suck so much?

“Come on, Wanda,” You grab her hand once more, “You don’t need him to enjoy your night. Let’s go.”

“Um, fuck off, Y/N, I’m talking to my boyfriend right now.” Wanda pushes you off her before sidling up to Curtis again.

You gape at her, feeling a pang of hurt. She’s just drunk, she didn’t mean to say that…

Curtis sighs, rolling his eyes, “Listen to your friend, Wanda. I gotta go.”

“I’ll come with you!”

For a third time, she grabs on to his arm tightly. That’s when Curtis huffs, clearly annoyed.

“Look, I don’t know what you think is going on between us, but stop acting like we’re in some serious relationship or whatever.” He says, a frown bordering on disgust on his face as he shakes her hand off of him.

Wanda gapes, and even your mouth drops open. How dare he? How fucking rude!

“Baby, you don’t mean that–”

“I mean sure, we have fun together but please don’t get the wrong idea, Wanda. You can’t just chase me down at these public events like you own me or something. That’s not how this works. In fact, all it does is make you look kind of desperate.” He continues, getting his phone out and nonchalantly scrolling through it as if this whole painful conversation isn’t even worth his time.

How the hell was he speaking to his own girlfriend like that?

“I-I’m sorry for being desperate, Curtis,” Wanda says earnestly, her eyes wild and pupils dilated, “Please, don’t do this! Don’t break up with me like this!”

He rolls his eyes, “Do what? I’m not doing anything! I can’t break up with someone who was never my girlfriend to begin with. Sure, we had fun for a few weeks but it’s not like we were ever exclusive, let alone dating. You were too clingy for my liking anyways.”

“Curtis, that’s enough!” You admonish, your heart breaking for poor Wanda. Curtis was a joke.  You can’t believe he’s standing here denying he was ever in a relationship with her. Hell, you’d been a third wheel to them enough times in the past month to know the two of them had definitely been a thing. How the hell was he just so casually gaslighting her now, as if none of that ever happened? God, you would never understand men!

Curtis glances at you, a devilish twinkle in his eye before he turns to Wanda again, “Hell, I’m pretty sure I tried to sleep with your friend Y/N before I settled for you that night at the party.”

“Oh, you’re such an asshole!” You explode, pulling Wanda away, “Stay away from her, you piece of shit! C’mon, Wanda.”

What you haven’t noticed is Wanda standing deathly still. She snatches her hand away from you, a look of absolute loathing, shock and betrayal on her face. And a part of you wants to see her give an asshole like Curtis a piece of her mind. But then she turns to face you, her eyes drunk and accusatory.

“Y-You…” she points at you, swaying in her heels from all the alcohol in her system, “You slept with my boyfriend?”

“What? No, he tried to sleep with me, but I wasn’t interested. It really wasn’t a big deal–” You try to hold her hand to calm her down, hoping she doesn’t make a big scene.

“Later, ladies.” Curtis grins, squeezing past the two of you and strutting over to table 2 with the rest of his team. You watch him for a moment, slack-jawed at his nonchalance and how badly he’d just hurt your friend.

“I can’t believe you!” Wanda hisses, pulling away from you yet again. “I can’t believe you slept with him!”

You shake your head desperately, “No, no, no! I didn’t sleep with him! That’s not what he said!” You take a deep breath, stopping yourself from raising your own voice out of desperation to get her to understand. Instead, you speak slowly: “Wanda, I did not sleep with Curtis. Yes, he did try it on with me ages ago but nothing happened.”

“You’re the biggest bitch in the world, Y/N! I can’t believe you slept with him!” Wanda sputters, tears welling in her drunken eyes. It’s like her brain has only selectively heard what he’d said and is running with it, and she’s unable to compute what you’re saying to her now. “I knew you weren’t above sleeping with other people’s boyfriends but I never thought you’d do it to me!”

“No, please, just listen! You’re not understanding–”

“Let go of me!” She bats your hands off her when you try to grab her again, backing away and stumbling out into the main banquet hall. “Don’t even speak to me again, Y/N! How dare you sleep with Curtis?! When you knew how much me and him meant to each other!”

Helplessly, you watch her as she marches across the banquet hall, and you trail behind her with a lump in your throat. You’d have to wait until she was sober to explain things to her properly, which was another conversation you weren’t looking forward to. But for now, you just watch her, hoping she doesn’t injure herself with how determinedly she’s walking. You expect her to head towards Curtis’ table, which is why you freeze when she walks straight past him and up towards the stage.

The retired basketball coach is just about done with his speech, and you nervously rejoin Sharon who is also looking at Wanda climbing up the stairs of the stage with a confused look on her face.

“We need to go get her,” you murmur.

“Why, hello young lady,” the retired basketball coach greets Wanda warmly, “Are you here to present the first award?”

Both you and Sharon spot Wanda eyeing the microphone with a gleam in her eye, and the two of you stand up in unison, exchanging alarmed looks.

But Wanda is quick, bumping the retired coach out of the way with her hip. She grabs the mic, tapping it quickly many times in succession. A high-pitched feedback echoes across the room, and more eyes turn towards her from all the other tables in the hall. The retired coach gives her a confused smile before shrugging and slowly hobbling away. A number of stagehands look on in confusion, checking their clipboards to see if this was part of the show.

And that’s when Wanda starts talking.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I have an award of my own!” She grips on to the mic like a vice, teetering on the middle of the stage. Her hair’s messy, her face stained with dried up tears. The straps of her dress slipping down her shoulders, and the half empty wine glass still in her hand, the remaining contents of it sloshing out onto the polished wooden floor.

“What the hell is she doing?” Sharon whispers from beside you. All around you, everyone in the banquet hall is whispering amongst themselves, and now all eyes are glued to your drunken best friend on stage. The tables full of professors, coaches and alumni all look around in bewilderment, frowning as if Wanda being on stage is all part of some kind of skit before the award ceremony.

You glance over at the jocks on table 2. Ari shoots you a perplexed look, Ransom’s got his phone camera out, Andy’s grinning from ear to ear. Colin has the decency to look away, an embarrassed look on his face. And Curtis? Curtis leans back on his chair, an amused look on his face as if he’s ready to kick back and enjoy the show.

That means it’s all up to you.

“Wanda!” You hiss, glad that your table is close enough to the stage that she can hear you, “Wanda, you’re drunk. C’mon, let’s go to the bathroom so I can fix you up.”

She looks down at you and smirks evilly, before looking away as if she hasn’t even heard you. Instead, she once more taps the mic once, twice, three times. She giggles drunkenly, “Testing, testing, is this thing on?”

“Wanda, babe, come down please!” Sharon joins in, but she also gets promptly ignored. She bites her lip before turning to you, “God, how did we not realise how drunk she’d gotten? She’s gonna make a fool of herself.”

“Wanda!” You try again, raising your voice slightly, “Come down, Wanda, please! The awards ceremony is about to begin!”

“It’s already begun! And like I said, I have an award of my own,” Wanda says, looking beyond you but never fully at you. You can see her lip curled slightly, and either it’s a smile or a sneer – you can’t really tell. But it makes your blood run cold, and a strong sense of foreboding washes over you again, like how it had earlier in your bedroom.

Quickly, you make your way over to the stage, hoping to pull her off before she said anything to embarrass herself too much. And it’s when you’re climbing up the stairs at the side of the stage that she resumes speaking:

“I know you’re all here for some… some random basketball award,” Wanda slurs, “But I wanna get my award out of the way first. And it’s the award for St. Andrews’ college’s biggest fucking slut.”

You’re halfway up the stage by now, and it’s when you step up on to the polished wooden floor that you pause, her words sinking in and a horrific feeling dawning on you. Oh no…

“And look! Here she is, the slut herself!” Wanda cheers, pointing straight at you with an unsteady hand. She throws her head back and laughs, her other hand gripping on to the mic for dear life. “Everybody, please give it up for Y/N! She already knows she’s the winner, nobody else could ever compare! Y/N is undoubtedly the biggest fucking slut on campus, and she wholeheartedly deserves this fucking award!”

Pin drop silence. For the first second, that’s all you hear. Silence that’s so loud, it’s almost deafening. Ringing in your ears, closing in on you like a siren. Then, you feel the waves of heat. Red hot fire radiating all over your body. Your face, your arms, your neck. Everywhere. You can’t quite believe what’s happening, but you know there’s a banquet hall filled with strangers staring straight at you as if you’re swathed in a spotlight.

“Curtis, get your girl the fuck off the stage!” You hear Ari say somewhere in the distance, and you can see him getting to his feet.

“No fucking way, that bitch isn’t my problem anymore.” Curtis whispers back, a note of glee in his tone.

You remain frozen on stage, your heart thrumming up to your throat. Wanda cackles, drunkenly beckoning you closer. Someone – either a professor or a coach – tries to coax her off the stage but she bats him away as if he’s an insignificant fly.

“C’mon, Y/N! Don’t be shy, come accept your award!” Wanda holds up her now empty wine glass as if it’s a trophy, “Ladies and gentlemen, don’t be mistaken! Y/N isn’t normally this shy! I mean, she certainly wasn’t when she fucked my boyfriend!”

A hushed gasp fills the hall, followed by a host of whispers. There’s a tiny voice inside you, telling you to run. Just run, run, run away from it all. But your feet don’t move, firmly planted in place as your whole body buzzes with heat and the lump in your throat gets bigger and bigger. Why was Wanda doing this? Oh God, what was happening!?

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Ari scrape his chair back and stride over to the stage, a venomous look on his face. At the same time, you feel a warm hand on your shoulder as Sharon comes up the steps to stand beside you.

“Wanda, honey, that’s enough.” Sharon says softly, holding her other hand out to your drunken friend. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

“Don’t you honey me,” Wanda spits out, “And don’t look at me as if I’m some sort of fool. If anyone’s a fool, it’s you, Sharon!”

Oh no. You feel yourself going light-headed.

That’s when Ari jumps up on stage, looking huge and menacing as he strides over to Wanda. He grabs her by the upper arm roughly, “Carla, shut the fuck up right now if you know what’s good for you,” He hisses.

“Well look who it is! Mister Knight in Shining Armour, here to save the fucking day!” Wanda laughs, and at least she’s not speaking into the mic anymore, but did it even matter? “Y/N doesn’t need your help, Ari! She’s a fucking slut who enjoys sleeping with other people’s boyfriends, and she’s proud of it! You’re proud of it, aren’t you, Y/N!?”

You’re in no condition to answer her question. Now, your body seems to be experiencing rapid hot and cold flushes. Icicles, then fire, then icicles, then fire again. And your face feels like it’s been stabbed by a thousand pins and needles. It’s a sensation you’ve never felt before, almost like an out of body experience. Like you’re floating except it feels terrible instead of liberating, and there’s absolutely no way for you to escape the impending doom.

Someone’s directed the live band to start playing again, and the room fills with music to combat the earth-shattering silence. But you know everyone’s eyes are still on the spectacle that’s taking place on stage. Everyone’s looking at you. And it’s like all your insecurities from the past month had come back in full force. Except so much worse, because now everyone thinks you’re a slut.

To your horror, Wanda goes to speak into the mic again. But Ari quickly snatches it out of her hands, throwing it aside and shooting her a glare, “Don’t even fucking think about it.”

“Okay, Wanda, you’ve made your point,” Sharon interjects gently. “I don’t know why you’d spread all these lies about your own best friend who’s been nothing but good to you, but it’s done now. Let’s just go.” Again, she reaches for Wanda’s hand, only for the latter to shoot her a sneer.

“Stop acting so holier-than-thou, Sharon. You’re not worth shit anymore, not since you got dumped,” Wanda laughs, suddenly aware of who exactly is on stage with her. She glances from you to Ari to Sharon, a look of evil glee spreading across her drunken features. “Why don’t you ask Ari again why he dumped you? Or better yet, why don’t you ask your new best friend Y/N?”

The band’s now playing an upbeat song, the lead singer urging everyone to get up on the dance floor in a bid to distract them. A few people do, but most stay planted in their seats, their focus still on the stage. Not that any of that even matters, not when Wanda’s words hit you like a ton of bricks. Out of your peripheral, you sense Sharon inhale sharply from next to you, and a deep feeling of dread starts spreading across your chest.

“Curtis, get the fuck up here and deal with her,” Ari seethes through gritted teeth. Curtis rolls his eyes, slowly making his way up to the stage like a panther going on a leisurely stroll.

“She sleeps with everyone’s boyfriend!” Wanda explodes, pointing another accusatory finger at you. “She doesn’t care about ruining relationships, all Y/N cares about is herself, Sharon! That’s why she’s been sleeping with Ari for months behind your back! And I kept her secret because I was being a good friend to her! Little did I know she fucked my boyfriend too!”

“That’s it, you’re fucking done,” Ari yanks Wanda off the stage, roughly pushing her down the steps all while keeping an iron grip on her forearm.

Thankfully, and yet a little too late, a stage hand drops the curtains. Dramatically, they fall down, shielding you from the stare and gossip of the audience. But you don’t feel any better. No, all you feel is pure, frozen shock. And the chaotic pantomime continues, even with the stage curtains now drawn.

“She’s been fucking Ari this whole time! She even fucked him out in the open at that frat party. In front of everyone, because that’s the type of slut she is!” Wanda cries out, stumbling over her words that act like bullets directed straight for Sharon. And, of course, you. “And she fucked Curtis too that night! Like the biggest fucking whore in the whole world! It’s true ‘cause he just told me! And God knows what she did with Steve, she probably let him smash too! As if slutting around on one campus wasn’t enough, she had to target a guy from a different college, and–”

She’s cut off by Ari plastering his huge hand over her mouth, all while she struggles and fights against him. He continues dragging her down the steps before throwing her into Curtis’ arms. Immediately, Wanda pacifies, grabbing on to Curtis for dear life while the buzzcut-haired man holds her gingerly.

“Get her out of here. I don’t care where the fuck you take her, I just want her gone.” Ari orders, narrowing his eyes when Curtis opens his mouth, “Don’t fucking argue with me, Everett. Go.”

Curtis rolls his eyes again, cautiously taking hold of Wanda who shuts up momentarily when she notices who’s holding her. She looks up at him with shining drunken eyes. “Curtis! You came back for me! Oh, I forgive you for fucking Y/N! I know she’s a huge slut and she probably seduced you! It wasn’t your fault at all, baby, I know that! Please let me be your girlfriend again, Curtis, please, I’ll do anything–”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Curtis grunts as he drags Wanda towards the exit. Thankfully, she’s docile enough in his arms, and easily goes with him.

Leaving carnage in her wake.

They all think I’m a slut, you think it again, still frozen in place. And I am! I am, I am, I am! I’m a backstabbing slut and this is what I deserve. Total public humiliation.

You pull yourself out of whatever catatonic state your body wants to shut you down into. The stage curtains are drawn and you’re protected from all the stares of the guests, and yet you feel like you can still hear the buzz of their whispers. The gossip formulating, your name on the tips of all their tongues. Spoken with disdain and disgust. Oh, you want nothing more than to just shut down and disappear. But you can’t. You can’t shut down yet, not yet. Instead, you force yourself to face Sharon head on, and come clean about what you should’ve come clean about ages ago.

“Sharon, please, just let me expl–”

“It’s not true, is it?” Sharon says slowly. Her cheeks look red, her eyes stricken, as if Wanda’s drunken bombshell has reached out and slapped her across the face. Her mouth downturned as if she’s about to cry, and yet she’s using every fibre of her being to hold herself together.

Ari chooses that moment to come up next to you, instinctively putting his hand on your shoulder. And Sharon looks from him to you back to him again. And then her face falls, and it’s like it’s all happening in slow motion and you’ve got a front row seat to someone’s heart being broken in real-time. Her face crumples as realisation dawns on her, and a whimpering sound leaves her mouth.

“It is true…” She breathes.

“I am so, so sorry,” You begin, not even knowing how to start. You feel numb and disorientated, like Wanda’s screaming expose has hit you like a freight train you may never recover from. And yet you know not to be selfish enough to make it all about you in this moment, not when Sharon looks so betrayed right in front of you. And yet a tear rolls down your cheek as you look at her, “Sharon, please understand how sorry I am. I know I should’ve told you before, there’s literally no excuse–”

“You’re right, there isn’t.” She cuts you off coldly, but the iciness doesn’t reach her eyes which shine with a mix of tears and betrayal. “How could you? You were supposed to be my friend. Th-This whole time I thought you were my friend…”

“Hey, leave her alone,” Ari interjects, positioning himself in front of you protectively. “If you want to be angry at someone, be angry at me. She’s already been through enough tonight.”

“DON’T YOU DARE DEFEND HER, YOU LYING PIECE OF SHIT!” Sharon bursts out in a blaze of fury, “For once in your life, show me a little bit of respect and don’t fucking defend the girl you cheated on me with right to my face! I was your girlfriend once upon a time, Ari. And you act like it meant nothing.”

Her voice breaks at the end, and she fiercely wipes away her tears. It smears up her makeup too, but she looks like she’s past the point of caring.

“All I’m saying is to leave Y/N out of this, Sharon. Whatever happened between me and her wasn’t her fault at all. You and I can discuss this privately.” Ari says, his tone hard and serious. He’s standing tall, as if being exposed for your joint betrayal has him completely unfazed. You, on the other hand, feel like you’re about two feet tall.

Sharon looks at Ari incredulously, before her eyes shift back to you as if she can’t help it. “I trusted you, Y/N.” She says brokenly, “I..I liked you. I liked you so much. You have no idea how much I…” Her voice trails off for a second before it hardens: “…and this whole time you were going behind my back.”

You swallow harshly, “I’m so sorry. Please, I know what I’ve done is unforgivable. But just believe me when I tell you that I’m so, so genuinely sorry. Wh-When me and Ari started… I didn’t even know you back then and I know that doesn’t excuse it–”

“IT DOESN’T EXCUSE IT!” Sharon screams, and beyond her shoulder you can see a few people peeping through the curtains as if to continue watching the show. “It doesn’t excuse it at all, Y/N! You had so many chances where you could’ve come clean to me, but you chose to lie to my fucking face.” She laughs bitterly, as if she can’t believe all this is actually happening. “Oh God, how stupid could I have been? All those times when I was crying to you about my breakup, or when I was trying to help you get through your boy troubles… All that time you were sleeping with Ari and I never suspected a damn thing?! Oh, you must’ve been laughing your ass off behind my back!”

You scramble to explain yourself, you want to say more, but it’s like your throat’s closing up now. Like you’re experiencing some type of allergic reaction. Your skin feels like it’s crawling, like your self-disgust has just boiled over the edge and you’re covered in the shame and guilt that’s been festering inside you. Except it’s now also mixed with the sheer humiliation from everything you’ve just experienced. What could you possibly say to explain yourself? She was right. She was one thousand percent right.

They were all right about you, the voice in your head cackles. Steve and Wanda and probably everyone else who’s thinking it right now. You’re a slut.

“Leave her the fuck alone, Sharon.” Ari threatens lowly, dropping his hand from your shoulder and taking a menacing step towards the blonde. “I mean it. Not another word.”

Sharon tilts her head, and you find her looking at you. Really looking at you. As if she’s searching the plains of your face to detect the level of your honesty. And you want to look away, want to look down because of how humiliated you are. But you look back at her meekly, feeling like a fucking backstabbing rat. Oh God, why had you not just come clean to her weeks ago when the two of you had first started becoming friends? Were you truly that spineless? Were you really that much of a coward?

“Get out.” Sharon says coldly, the hurt on her face now replaced with an impenetrable mask of stone-cold indifference. “Get out of here, Y/N. I don’t want to look at you. I thought we were friends but it’s like I don’t even know you. And I never knew you. So just get out of here. GET OUT!”

Her venomous words make you jump. Your lower lip quivers, and you feel like the dirt at the bottom of everyone’s shoe. Ari turns around, tries to grab your hand but you back away quickly. Your heel catches on something and you stumble. Regaining your balance, you see Ari coming towards you, and Sharon staring you down from behind him. The pity and concern in his eyes, the pure betrayal in hers. Oh, you don’t want any of it! You just wish you’d disappear!

You take off into a run, your heels clacking on the wooden floor noisily but you don’t care. You do exactly what Sharon’s told you to do – you run. Gathering up your dress so it doesn’t get caught in your shoes. Oh, and who cares if it did? Who cares at all? Certainly not you.

You run out into the full banquet hall, trying not to meet anyone’s gaze. Trying to block out what they’re whispering. You know they’re talking about you; you know they’re looking at you as if you’re the biggest backstabbing whore in the whole world. Which you are. Oh, how spectacularly everything had fallen apart!

Somewhere behind you, you can hear Ari calling out your name. But you don’t stop, don’t look back. Not this time. You weave through the crowd, your tears blurring your vision but you don’t dare stop. Out into the hotel lobby, down the marble steps adorned in grand red carpeting with gold tassels. Feeling like a warped Cinderella who wasn’t the helpless princess after all, but instead the backstabbing villain. Out the front entrance, and the doorman stares at you but you don’t care, and the outside cold hits you like a ton of bricks.

As if on cue, the wind roars loudly, slapping you in the face with all its might and fury. And you remember earlier tonight, when you’d wondered whether the winds had been trying to warn you about something. Oh, your intuition had been right! Why hadn’t you just stayed at home?! Now, the wind swirls around you threateningly, and you just stand there in the bitter cold, as if daring it to attack you. All around you, the grass rustles, the trees cower, the very ground seems to shake as gust after gust hits at you, and your hair comes loose, and you’re about to start crying in earnest, and–

“Y/N, wait! Stop!” Ari grabs your hand, his familiar warmth shooting through your entire body. He pulls you into his arms, embracing you fiercely. Your burst into ferocious tears that you hadn’t realised you’d been holding in. Loud, wracking sobs muffled by his strong chest as he holds you close. “I’m so sorry that happened, baby. I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I did!” You cry, another gust of wind hitting you like a wake-up call, and you push off of him with tears streaming down your face. “I did deserve it, Ari! I deserved all of it!”

There’s an invisible whirlpool around the two of you. Maybe you’re imagining it in your delirium, but it’s like a swirling of energy, entrapping the two of you together on this stormy night. The wind howls around you both, ringing in your ears as if to warn you again, telling you this is all wrong, wrong, wrong!

And Ari looks at you like his whole heart’s in his eyes, and they glisten with emotion that you’ve never seen in him before. And he holds you close, and cups your face. He wipes your tears as if to soothe you, but how could you soothe someone who was so beyond repair that perhaps repair wasn’t even an option anymore? How!?

“Let me take you home,” he whispers, “I don’t want you to be alone tonight. Please, let’s just go. And I swear I’ll deal with everything; I’ll deal with all of them. I’ll make them pay for hurting you. Just please, stop crying and come with me.”

“No!” You snatch your hand out of his and step back, shaking your head fiercely. “Don’t you get it, Ari? We’re not right together and we never will be!”

“That’s not true–”

“Yes, it is!” You sob freely, “How many people do we have to hurt for it to sink in that we just don’t work?” Ferociously, you wipe at your tears, not that it matters when new one’s flow down your cheeks freely, “All we ever do is fight, Ari! We just run around in circles and fight and hurt each other and hurt everyone around us! And now I know it’s ‘cause we just don’t work, and we never will!”

“No.” Ari says firmly, “I’m the one who hurt people, okay? Not us. Just me. And you got caught in the crossfire and I’m fucking sorry.”

You shake your head, “It doesn’t matter anymore. None of it matters, Ari. They all think I’m a slut and they’re all right! And I’ll never live this down and I don’t deserve to live it down! So just leave me alone, okay? JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!”

“NO!” Ari roars, louder than the wind itself, and louder than you too. “No, I’m not fucking leaving you alone! I told you that I care about you, and I’m never gonna leave you alone. So just… just come on. Let me take you home, baby. I’ll make it better, I promise.”

The blustering winds form an impenetrable current around the two of you, whistling and swirling with rogue leaves like a tornado that you seem to be trapped in with him. And in an ironic way, it perfectly encapsulates your relationship with him: a whirlwind. A tornado. A constant uphill battle filled with fights and arguments, always one step forward and then two steps back. Maybe it was time to just give up, to come to terms with how it just didn’t work between you and him.

You sniffle weakly, “Nothing can make this better. Whatever there was between us, it was never going to work. Not when it started out as a lie.”

Tenderly, yet charged with an electric emotion you can’t quite pinpoint, he cups your face again. Your freezing wet cheeks welcome the warmth they bring, despite everything.

“I’ll make it better,” Ari repeats, softer this time. He presses his forehead against yours. “You mean more to me than Sharon or anyone else ever did. And I know our relationship started out wrong because I lied to you. Constantly. I know that. But I promise you I’ll make it all better and you’ll never hurt again how you’re hurting now.”

You feel like you’re at a crossroads. You’ve gone through more emotional turmoil in these past few weeks than you have in any other point of your life. And each time, you’ve fallen back into Ari’s arms in a heap of tears. So, what about this time? Would you do the same thing again? Another circle? Another fight? Another heartbreak?

“I’m in love with you.” Ari breathes. And in that moment, even the winds stand still. And his eyes look like twin oceans with stars scattered inside them. And those stars in his eyes, those stars get bigger and bigger till they’re all you can see. And you can’t hear anything anymore, except for his breathing and yours. And you can feel only one thing, and that’s his hands cupping your cheeks as he gazes at you with a look of desperation mixed with something else. Something passionate. And honest. “I’m in love with you, okay? I’ve never been in love before but I’m pretty positive that I love you, and I promise I’ll protect you from ever being hurt again.”

In the distance, beyond his shoulder, a branch from a tree falls to the ground. As if unable to stand the wrath of the wind on this night. It crashes down, all the way down till it’s no longer a part of what it had once always known. You focus on it for a split second, before some kind of magnetic pull makes you look back to Ari.

“Why does it always take some sort of traumatic event for you to say these things?” You whisper, letting his words bounce off you. Not letting them permeate into your heart and set camp, not allowing them to let you hope. Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted to hear from him!?

“I’ve felt this way for a while,” he says earnestly, “I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. But I told you, I’m ready now. For everything. I love you, and I want everyone to know it.” He draws you closer, cradling your face in his warm hands. How are they so warm on such a cold night? How was he so warm when you felt so cold, cold, cold?! So freezing cold from the inside out?

I love you. I’m in love with you. I promise I’ll protect you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Oh, his words were finding their way into your heart! You take a timid step closer, allow yourself to look into his eyes. Everything was crashing and burning around you. Your life was ruined, and so was your reputation. Everyone thought you were a slut and you had no friends left at all. But Ari was here. Solid. Real. Right in front of you. Saying all the right things on a night that had gone so horrifically wrong. Should you allow yourself this? Did you deserve it? Did he?

His lips have barely brushed against yours when you hear a loud shatter right next to you.

“You told me you weren’t going to be with him tonight.”

Steve. Standing less than a foot away from you. A glass bottle lying broken by his feet, the smell of vodka strongly emanating from him. His hair falls over his forehead, swaying gently in the roaring wind. His eyes black, blown out, barely there. Hooded, like he’s sad. Betrayed. Oh, how did he even get here!?

Your jaw drops open, “Steve, I–”

“How fucking dare you show your face in front of her after everything you put her through?” Ari growls, pushing you behind him before squaring up to Steve. “Get the fuck out of here, Rogers. Before I break your neck.”

You swallow harshly, “Ari, don’t…”

Steve sidesteps Ari, and those sad eyes look straight at you. Penetrating down straight to your soul.

“You kissed me earlier tonight, but now you’re choosing him.”

He says it matter-of-factly, his words slurring slightly but still clear as day. You feel a pang in your heart. From your peripheral, you see Ari bristle at Steve’s words, clearly taken aback by what he’s just revealed.

You open your mouth, but it feels all dried up. Like you’re back in the middle of the stage with an audience of people watching you get exposed for your betrayal.

“You don’t have to answer him.” Ari says to you, quickly recovering and grabbing your hand protectively before turning back to sneer at Steve. “Get the hell out of here. Tonight isn’t the night for your bullshit.”

“He’ll only hurt you,” Steve says, ignoring Ari and looking directly at you. “I told you; all Ari ever does is hurt people.”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Steve, or else I’ll–”

“Or else you’ll what, Ari? I don’t give a fuck what you do.” Steve finally looks at the brunet, squaring up to him till they’re both face to face. Each as big as the other, each as menacing as the other. But that’s where the similarities end. Ari looks wary, on edge. And Steve? Steve looks like he has nothing left to lose.

“Oh yeah? Is that why you’ve been dodging me all these weeks?” Ari barks out a laugh, but it sounds hollow, almost forced. And his eyes keep darting between Steve and back to you. “I’m telling you for the last time, Rogers. Walk away so she doesn’t have to see me kill you.”

“Stop acting like some kind of fucking hero, Ari. You of all people should know that’s not what you are.” Steve fires back, “You’ll hurt her, just like you hurt–”

“My car’s parked around the corner. You know what it looks like. Go, I don’t want you to see this.” Ari says to you, his hand dropping yours as he keeps his eyes on the blonde in front of him. You watch as his fists clench by his sides.

There’s a pause before Steve laughs. And just like Ari’s from earlier, Steve’s laugh sounds hollow too. Like neither of them are enjoying this confrontation. And neither are you, and yet your feet remain planted to the ground. The winds are still howling around you, encasing the three of you in a whirlpool. And within it, you sense the strongest feeling of foreboding you’ve felt yet.

“You still haven’t told her, have you?” Steve accuses.

A dark, anxious feeling pools inside your chest, twisting your veins, reaching straight for your heart. More secrets? “Tell me what, Ari?”

“Go to my car, I’m serious.”

“I heard your little speech from just now. I heard all your promises. How you’ll never hurt her again,” Steve shoves Ari. And it’s a drunken shove, but a hard one. “How you’ll protect her,” another shove, “How you’re in love with her.”

“Shut the fuck up, Steve. You have no idea what you’re–”

“Tell me, is that what you told my sister too?”

Everything stops. Even the wind, with how fierce and mighty it had been all night, comes to a screeching halt. It’s like the grass stops rustling, the trees stop swaying. You think your heart has stopped too. Steve’s sister? Kira? Ari knew her? The dark, anxious feeling doubles up, multiplies in a millisecond. You feel like your insides have turned to tar, and your blood freezes in the worst way possible.

“Wh-What’s he talking about, Ari?” Your question comes out soft, timid. As if you’re afraid of the answer.

Ari’s head whips around, and his cheeks are flushed. His jaw tensed, his eyes wild. Quickly, he shakes his head, “He doesn’t know what he’s saying, okay? Clearly, he’s drunk, and high off of something, and he doesn’t know what he’s saying–”

“WHAT THE FUCK DID KIRA EVER DO TO YOU, ARI?!” Steve erupts, making you jump. Ari flinches too, but Steve closes in on him, his dark eyes blazing. “What did she ever do to you? Except trust you?” He laughs bitterly, “Maybe that was her mistake. Trusting someone like you.” And then he looks straight at you, “Don’t make the same mistake, Y/N. He’ll run you out of this place just like he did my sister.”

Your lower lip quivers, “What do you mean?”

Ari grabs your hand and pulls you back, “Let’s just go. He doesn’t know what he means. He has no fucking clue what he’s talking about.”

Like it’s a hot poker, you pull your hand out of his grip, staring up at him incredulously.

“I have no fucking clue, huh? As if I haven’t been in the same house as her, watching her lock herself up in her room and cry for the past fucking year!” Steve says, and this time he squares up to Ari again, grabbing the brunet’s collar to make him look at him. “As if I haven’t watched her become a fucking shell of her former self, as if I haven’t watched her lose her smile, lose her personality, lose her fucking will to interact with anyone. All because of you!”

Now it’s Ari’s turn to shove Steve, and he does it with full force. Steve stumbles backwards, and Ari looks at him in fury. And yet he doesn’t say anything, nothing at all. And the sticky black tar coats your heart and starts seeping into your lungs, making it hard for you to breathe. Making it hard for you to make sense of what’s going on. Oh god, what exactly was Steve saying?! And why wasn’t Ari denying anything?!

“You can’t even deny it anymore, can you?” Steve spits out, “And now you’re out here actin’ like a fuckin’ superhero, promising Y/N the entire world. Well, why don’t you answer my question, Levinson? Is that what you promised Kira too? Is that what you fucking promised her before you spread those pictures of her to every fucking person you know?”

That’s when you feel like the wind’s been knocked out of you. You feel faint, dizzy. Like you’re no longer real. Ari turns to look at you, and you can’t even begin to decipher his expression but it’s like you no longer want to look at him. Pictures? Like nudes? Ari? Spreading private pictures of Kira around campus??? You shake your head, willing him to say something, to deny it all vehemently.

“She’s my sister,” Steve’s voice breaks, an outpouring of emotion that you’ve never ever seen from him. His face red, his fists clenched but not in anger, more so in desperate sadness. “She’s my sister and you were my friend and you fucking broke her, Ari. She couldn’t handle it, everyone talking about her, laughing at her. You ran her out of school, and you broke her. And now you’re gonna do the same thing to Y/N too.”

Ari swallows, looking stricken how you’ve never seen him look before. He sucks in his breath, and when he speaks, it sounds like it’s a stranger talking: “Don’t even act like you have Y/N’s best interests at heart, after what you did to her. And you have no idea what you’re sayi–”

“This is who he is!” Steve erupts again, this time looking straight at you, “My sister was so fucking trusting, she did whatever he asked her to. She sent him pictures that were supposed to be private, all ‘cause he told her to. She never should’ve trusted an asshole like him but she did, she trusted him with everything she had, and now look at her.” He shakes his head, his entire body shaking from either anger or grief or both. “And Kira, she was so broken over it, she told me never to mention it again to anyone, she made me promise not to. But you need to know who he really is. He’s a fucking asshole who’ll hurt anyone! He hurt Kira, he hurt Sharon, and he’ll hurt you too.”

“Let’s go,” Ari says to you, gathering himself and grabbing your hand, “Let’s just go and I’ll explain everything.”

For the second time, you snatch your hand away from his and shake your head, your mind racing and you think you’re going to be sick. Oh God, how many more times would Ari lie to you? “Don’t touch me.”

“Baby, I said I’d explain–”

“You knew Steve’s sister this whole time?”

“Yes, but–”

“Wh-Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you mention it even once?” Your voice sounds high, like you’re about to start crying from shock. And betrayal. You suck in your breath. He’d been hiding this from you, so what else was he hiding?

He tries to grab your hand again, but you take a step back in disbelief.

“Don’t you dare touch me. Y-You’re a liar! You lied again. You told me you wouldn’t lie to me but you lied again!” Oh, you feel like you don’t even know him anymore! Did you ever truly know him to begin with? You think back to Kira, so anxious that she couldn’t even look you in the eye. Had Ari really hurt her so badly? Spread around nude pictures of her and ruined her life and then continued on with his own as if none of it had even happened? “H-How could you do that to her? How could you–”

Ari opens his mouth to speak, but that’s when Steve tackles him. You scream, caught off-guard as the two behemoths fall to the ground. The wind resumes its wicked gusts, and this time it’s like it’s taunting you. Taunting you for forcing yourself time and time again to live in this fairytale utopia where Ari and you could ever possibly work. Each slap of cold air on your face reminding you that nothing, nothing in the whole world, could ever make the two of you work.

And maybe it was written in the stars, maybe this fight was bound to happen between the two of them. And yet you can’t make sense of it, watching with stricken horror as Steve grabs Ari’s collar again.

“You sick, twisted bastard! Fuck you for ruining my sister!” Steve punches him, but Ari quickly dodges it. And Steve’s movements are slower, sluggish. You feel sick thinking of how much he’s had to drink tonight. He was already drunk hours ago when he’d showed up at your dorm room, but now? Now he looks doubly wasted, teetering on the verge of no return and completely past the point of even caring about it.

Steve’s fuelled by alcohol and a tragic rage. No, rage was the wrong word, because the anger he was exhibiting now was nothing like when he’d punched the wall or when he’d lost his cool at basketball practice. Now, it felt different. Like he was charged by his own sadness, and an underlying sense of resignation. Like a part of him didn’t care what would happen to him by the end of tonight. Like he was getting all his punches in before he… before he…

“Stop!” You finally find your voice and yell out, but it doesn’t carry, your words getting lost in the wind. Ari shoves Steve off of him, dragging both of them to their feet. Steve throws another punch, and Ari dodges it just in time so instead of his fist connecting with his jaw, it slams painfully against his shoulder. But Ari doesn’t flinch.

“You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about!” Ari snarls, drawing his fist back to punch back. That’s when you throw all caution to the wind and run forward, coming between them.

“Don’t, Ari! He’s drunk, and he took all this medication, and…” your voice trails off, but the worry is evident in your tone as the realisation hits you. His medication for his mood swings. How much of it had he taken? Ari pauses, still glaring daggers at Steve, who looks back at him just as venomously.

“HIT ME, LEVINSON! DO IT, JUST HIT ME!” Steve shouts, louder than the wind itself. “It’s not like I’ve got shit to lose, so go right ahead! I’ve said what I had to say and now I’m fucking done.” His face twists, veins popping in his forehead, his blonde locks brushing over his wild eyes as they rest on you. His gaze softens somewhat, like a drunken, tragic hero. “I’m done, Y/N. It’s okay, I’m done. And I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for scaring you. I hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me.”

Why was he talking like that? You have no time to contemplate his words, however. Because Ari steps forward in front of you, his fist clenched to his side. And you’ve never seen him look this angry, and once more he draws his fist back, and you try to find your voice to stop him but nothing comes out. And the wind hits its crescendo, and there’s a clap of thunder serving as an exclamation point to this disastrous evening. Your entire body jerks, as if expecting something terrible to happen, and you close your eyes and you brace yourself…

A loud thud. You open your eyes, a scream getting caught in your throat when you see Steve on the ground. Motionless.

“Ari, what did you do!?” You cry.

Ari turns to you, breathing hard and yet he’s got a confused look on his face. His fist is still clenched but he shakes his head in shock.

“Nothing. I swear I didn’t do anything, he just… He just collapsed.”

You run over, crouch down next to Steve, trying to survey any damage. Sure enough, his face looks pristine, apart from a bluish-purple hue to his pale skin that you hadn’t noticed before. No signs of having been punched, however. But it’s his eyes that catch your attention, stricken and looking straight up. Almost like he’s unresponsive, when just a second ago he’d been on his feet and just fine.

“Oh god, oh my god. Steve!?” Your voice goes high with panic. With trembling hands, and quick, flurrying movements, you shake his shoulders. But all that does is make his head loll back, and he’s still staring up at the sky with a glassy look on his face, not reacting to you at all. Almost like he’s on another planet. Trying to keep your panic at bay, you quickly try and feel for his pulse, and that’s when you really start to lose it.

“Oh my god, Ari, he-he doesn’t have a pulse! I can’t find his pulse, I c-can’t– ARI, DO SOMETHING!”

Ari, who up until this moment seemed to be frozen in shock, staring at his still clenched fist as he stood over the two of you, seems to finally snap out of it. He springs into action, pushing you aside and crouching down next to the blond. He grabs his wrist while you look on, horrified beyond belief over what exactly was happening in front of your eyes.

He knew that mixing alcohol with his medication was dangerous, you think to yourself, another bout of sick realisation dawning on you. He’s pre-med, he’s studying to be a doctor. Of course, he knew! Had he… had he meant to do this? Oh God…

“He’s got a pulse,” Ari mutters, “He’s got one but it’s weak.”

Tears gather in your eyes as your head starts to spin, “H-He was on this medication, he told me earlier F-For his mood swings or something. And he was drinking too, and he probably took his pills and he drank and, oh God, I should’ve done something! I didn’t think it was that bad, I didn’t–”

“We need to call 911.” Ari says firmly, and you’re relieved that at least one of you is keeping their wits about them. You don’t know whether Ari’s just good under pressure or whether he’s in genuine shock too, judging by the frozen look on his face. Nevertheless, you watch him as he stands up, getting his phone out of his pocket and dialling the number.

And, almost like in cruel irony, the howling winds that had been swirling around you have now gone silent. Deathly silent. It’s like the three of you are in a vacuum, and yet you can barely even hear Ari talking on the phone. All you can hear is your fucking heart in your chest, and the racing of your own thoughts: this is my fault, this is my fault, this is my fault…

“Come on, Steve!” You urge, grabbing his hand and almost recoiling because of how limp and cold it feels. He’d been so warm when you’d kissed him hours earlier, so warm and soft. And it seems like lightyears ago, that kiss followed by the breathless silence. How you’d noted how he looked like he was one sip away from disaster. Oh, why hadn’t you done more? You could have sobered him up, but you’d been so wrapped up in your own problems. And now?

“P-Please, don’t do this. Just wake up. Or say something, just please!” And you don’t know why you’re having such a reaction – wasn’t it you who’d told Steve hours ago how you and him barely even knew each other? How there was nothing between the two of you? How he’d ruined all of that? Then why, why, why was your heart burning up right now? Like a ball of fire deep in your chest, waiting to explode. You tap his cheek desperately, noting the blueish tone of his lips, wondering why you hadn’t noticed that earlier. Beating yourself up over it.

“They’re coming,” you hear Ari say behind you, “An ambulance is on its way. It’s gonna be okay.”

But you don’t even hear him, too busy thinking back to when Steve had been in your dorm room earlier tonight. The sad look in his eyes as he’d turned to leave after your kiss. You can feel your tears soaking up your freezing cold cheeks now as you squeeze his hand.

“I forgive you, okay? I forgive you! Just wake up, please! Steve, just wake up! Didn’t you hear me? I forgive you!”

Your tears blur your vision, and his face becomes a pale blur. Fiercely, you wipe your eyes with your one free hand. And vaguely, you can feel Ari’s hand on your shoulder. And his is so warm. And Steve’s is so cold. Hot and cold. Cold and hot. You don’t even notice when you feel your own hand being squeezing lightly.

“That’s good,” Steve says faintly, his lips barely moving. You gasp and move closer, hoping you haven’t imagined it. His eyes flutter gently, like he doesn’t want to keep them open anymore. But his face looks relaxed, so relaxed that it’s scary, and it feels like you’re looking at a ghost. Those blue lips part once more. “Don’t worry about me. I’m comfortably numb, remember? I think I finally made it last…”

“No, no, no, no…” you scramble, watching as his eyes slip shut. You squeeze his hand again, shake at his shoulders, tap his cheek. Oh no, no, no, no. And all around you, the trees start swaying once more. The great gusts of wind continue, almost like they never even stopped, and another branch falls to the ground. The grass rustles beneath where Steve lies, and the moonlight shines on his face, making his pallor look a deathly kind of beautiful. Like an angel.

And it reminds you of the first night you’d met him. The night you’d dreamed of him. He’d looked like an angel in your dreams too.

The wind whistles with great might, and it sounds like a cackle. As if it’s mocking you. And Steve is still, and Ari’s still holding firmly on to you, and you can barely hear the blare of the siren as the ambulance slowly approaches.

A/N: .....did Steve just.... OH MY GODDD. Well, if you made it this far then congratulations!!! I really hope y'all liked it. I'm so scared it didn't live up to expectations. I KNOW there was no smut but you guys I tried my best to see where I could fit it in... I just couldn't justify putting it in anywhere in the story and it actually making sense, pls understand! UGHHH I'm just so insecure about this chapter, but if you liked it PLESE PLEASE let me know what you think! Any thoughts, comments, feedback would genuinely be appreciated SO much like SO SO much omfg. Like any favourite parts etc? I really wanted to focus on romantic scenes between reader and the two guys and i hope i showed that! BUT YEAH PLS LMK WHAT YOU THINK ILY ILY.

Okay and as usual, here are some questions!! (y'all don't have to answer them, but just in case anyone does!!!)

Which romantic scene did you prefer? Steve coming up reader's window or Ari taking reader on a picnic? OR NEITHER???

What are your thoughts on Carla Wanda after this chapter??? LMFAOO.

Why was Sharon more upset with reader than with Ari? Hmm.....

Did Ari really spread Kira's nudes around :( ?? Or do you think there's more to the story?

TEAM ARI OR TEAM STEVE? ( if he's okay that is damn )

AND THAT'S IT! Hope y'all enjoyed it! I'm gonna stop yapping now bahahaha byeee ily ily ily

[jerrardsjournal]

AN OPEN LETTER TO BLACK WOMEN.

i wanna open my letter to y’all by saying I love y’all. My life is dedicated to finding me a beautiful black woman and loving her in ALL WAYS always. i am a flawed man that has definitely disappointed a few women along this journey of understanding what truly matters in regards to love. BUT IM STILL HERE. finding new layers to love and to myself all with one goal: to find me a black woman who i can give my all too.

a quick search will show you that historically speaking black men go for other races way more than black women. On the flip side, y’all stayed looking for love from a black man and that type’a loyalty should be rewarded from us. And i’m deeply sorry that we’ve let a lot of y’all down.

I hope that whoever reads this knows that, while we (black men) DEFINITELY need to improve, it’s not all without reason. It’s widely documented that as a black man we’re at the bottom of the hierarchy and that position comes with its own unique set of plights. i’ll use the most overused example: money.

For a black man finding a career that leads to success is like finding a needle in a haystack. From family dynamics, environment, and a lack of proper educational resources, black men are at a disadvantage when it comes to finding a career.

And as it becomes more difficult to live comfortably in america without high skill level jobs (one’s that we don’t get because america has deemed us incapable) black men are pushed further behind. Our value as a black man in America is deemed by how much more money can we make the establishment than other black men. Imo, that’s the only way to get these top tier jobs. Whereas other races just show up as themselves because america has accepted them. that’s how they keep blacks in the rat race.

Shit goes even deeper when you think about how society puts so much emphasis on money determining the value of a man only to offer black people less for simply being black. i’ve seen the stories of black people applying for jobs and getting offered less compensation than their peers with similar credentials.

a lot of discourse online right now is in response to Tyler Perry and his stance on relationships. I do believe he’s right when he suggests realigning your priorities to find love. i simply wish he wouldn’t have solely directed his comments toward BW and accepting less when they deserve MORE.

His example of a man only being able to pay the light bill and for BW to be okay with that is irresponsible. It’s based in hyperbole and doesn’t truly address the nuance of dating and finding love as a whole.

now i’m sure there are situations where, depending on relationship dynamics, a BM might only have enough for one bill because of other financial obligations and hardships. Whether we’d like to admit it or not, not all of us are destined for 6 figure lifestyles. & not all of us are going to be able to overcome the handicaps that come with being black.

If a man finds a woman to accept him and his circumstances then HE HAS to pour into her in other ways. He has to remove himself from the idea that money/sex is the only thing that determines his value. because i guarantee you that only being able to pay one bill will make him insufferable. He’s going to look past all the other ways he could bring value simply because he’s not able to provide in the way he wants. Then he’s going to take it out on his partner because his ego is bruised which causes him to be spiteful. AND…in all of that STILL expect the BW to be there to make him feel better. THATS WRONG!

we need to be teaching our BM how to overcome these obstacles built to tear down black people as a whole. Financial literacy, proper support of our BW, changing societal influences, etc. Its not the responsibility of BW to accept less. It’s our responsibility to do more.

i think people as a whole need to remove the importance money/success plays into their lives. Stop using what white people have historically done and trying to mimic that for your own lives. They operate within a set of rules that we’ve never been afforded. And even with the rules in their favor not all white people get to see the generational wealth we all so desperately want.

Harsh truths are helpful towards progress. so i think it’s important to say that some of us aren’t going to acquire crazy success to live an above average life by financial metrics. Most BM are going to need the help of a BW to build a lifestyle that suits their needs and desires.

if you don’t want to accept that then i see one of two outcomes: you being alone until you get where you want be in life cause you don’t wanna waste time/hurt someone. or you hurting someone cause you can’t handle being alone while also devaluing your worth because you don’t have money to back it up.

with all that i leave off with two things:

BM - it’s time for us to start correcting each other properly. It’s time to spread the message that it’s on us to do more. and that doesn’t have to always mean money. work on your character, your mindset to relationship commitment, your ability to love your BW fully on a consistent basis and what that truly means.

BW - my questions to you all are: when can we discuss the adverse effects of y’all loving black men so much that y’all treat us as a monolith when we all aren’t the same? When will black men get grace for being brought up in a society that historically disenfranchised them? being brought up in a society that doesn’t promote the highest levels of love and companionship but instead promotes surface level intimacy disguised as love. all the while stripping black people of a family unit to protect us from that influence. yes, we have hurt so many of y’all countless times. but grace isn’t y’all sticking around because you love us. grace isn’t attributing mistakes to a black man’s character in perpetuity. For example if a man lies, that doesn’t make him a liar FOREVER;he just lied in his past. but a man that murders is a murderer FOREVER because that’s too extreme to shed off. however, i feel like there’s no difference between the two with y’all.

PS: i hope one day we can all see that america destroyed the black family and left black people to fight amongst ourselves over who’s to blame for that. and who’s to blame for us hurting each other from the pain of living our reality for the past 400+ years.

[theliterateape]

A Merry Christmas Punch/CounterPunch On the Sensitive Topic of One Mr. George Bailey, Part Two

(This piece was performed at BUGHOUSE! in Las Vegas at Bunkhouse on December 23, 2019. It is a rebuttal to Don Hall’s piece about what a horrible person George Bailey is. Audience members were handed scripts in the moment to read out loud. Clarence Oddbody was played by Kelly. The bartender was played by Dylan the bartender. Don Hall was played by Don Hall.) 

 It’s A Wonderful Joe

By Joe Janes

Joe: Of course, George Bailey is a good person. This is such a slam dunk. He’s played by Jimmy Stewart who is also a good person. George Bailey saved his little brother Harry’s life who went on to be a war hero by killing as many Japanese people he could. George also saved somebody else because Mr. Gower, the drunk grieving pharmacist, put poison into pill form. George Bailey saved his boss’s ass. Gower stopped drinking and, hopefully, learned not to keep jars of poison right next to medicine. Who does that? That’s day one of pharmacy school – medicine here, poison way, way, way over there maybe not in the same room. George’s relationship with Mary wasn’t some love-at-first sight Hollywood malarkey. It built over time; they grew to love one another. It was earned and lasted, and it only got a little rape-y when she was hiding naked in a bush and he was using her robe for leverage for what we don’t know exactly. Fortunately, his father died of a heart attack and that got him out of there. 

I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. It’s just so hard to argue something I no longer believe. Don Hall is right. George Bailey is not a good person. He never took a single step outside of Bedford Falls. His family lives in a drafty old house that he used to throw rocks at. He has a kid named Zuzu. Zuzu—short for Pazuzu, the demon from The Exorcist… I just, I can’t. He puts shredded coconut on his ice-cream for fuck’s sake. That’s just horrible. I never should have agreed to do this. I wish I had never agreed to do this. Do you hear me, God? I wish I had never done Bughouse.

Clarence: Your prayers have been answered, Joe Janes. 

Joe: What do you mean?

Clarence: You never did your piece about George Bailey being a good person at the Bughouse show. 

Joe: Who are you?

Clarence: My name is Clarence Oddbody. I’m an angel, second class. By helping you, I’ll get my wings.

Joe: What kind of name is Oddbody? Irish?

Clarence: I’m called Oddbody because, well, take a look. I have a third nipple, my knees bend backwards, and my nut sack looks like a russet potato covered with eyes. Real eyes. The kind that stare at you. I’m hundreds of years old. People were named quite literally back then. Just ask Honest Abe Lincoln’s postmaster general, Caleb P. Openumbrellaanus. 

Joe: And you’re an angel?

Clarence: That’s usually the first question people ask. Yes. I’m an angel. And I granted your wish. You never performed your piece at Bughouse. 

Joe: So, I can just leave the stage like it never happened?

Clarence: Like it never happened because it never did happen.

Joe: Cool. I’m going to go get a drink. Barkeep, I would like a frosty beverage. And perhaps a mulled wine for my angel friend.

Bartender: I can’t. I’m no longer a bartender. You never did your piece. Don Hall told everyone what a piece of shit George Bailey was and that was it. Itconvinced me there was no hope and that I will die never knowing what love is. I’m a spinster, now…and a librarian.  

Joe: But, you’re right here behind the bar and Don only did his piece a few minutes ago.

Bartender: It’s not my fault your premise is flawed. Now, unless you have a book toreturn or to check out, please move along. 

Joe: But…

Bartender: Move along!

Joe: This can’t be happening. Don! Don! Tell me this isn’t happening.

Don: Who are you?

Joe: It’s Joe. Joe Janes, your friend from Chicago. I came to Las Vegas to do Bughouse. You don’t remember me?

Don: I remember you. I’m shunning you. My friend Joe from Chicago never did Bughouse.

Clarence: See, you prayed that you never did Bughouse and so-

Joe: We get it, Clarence! We get it. 

Don: I was very excited to have you on the show. You’re the most brilliant writer I know. Ruggedly handsome, yet sophisticated, like Captain Picard and George Clooney had a threesome with cyborg Cary Grant who carried you to term like a pregnant male seahorse. More importantly, you were and had always been my friend. Remember that time I wanted to move because everyone in town thought I was a floozie? You gave me $2,000 and wished me luck. Had it not been for you, I would have become a dime-a-dance guy. I still charge ten cents a dance. Two dollars for hand jobs. But I do it because I WANT to, not because I HAVE to. Not doing your piece at Bughouse was like someone dug a hole in my heart with a spork and pooped in it. Pooped filled with thumbtacks, ghost peppers, and old man diapers. I was so distraught from you bailing on the show that I got a migraine. I went home and instead of taking aspirin, I accidentally took poison. 

Joe: How did you accidentally take poison?

Don: I keep it right next to the medicine like everyone does.

Joe: Nobody does that!

Don: Well, I do and now I’m dead. Thanks.

Joe: Clarence! Clarence! Change it all back. Please, change it all back. I want to be able to buy beer at Bunkhouse. I want Don to be not dead. I can be okay with people putting shredded coconut on ice-cream. Maybe. I’ll do my piece at Bughouse. Change it all back.

Clarence: Okay, Joe. It’s all changed back.

Joe: Really! Just like that?

Clarence: Just like that.

Joe: That’s great! Hello, Bunkhouse! Hello, ol’ bar. Hello, bartender! Hello, live Don Hall! I’ll tell you why George Bailey is a good person! He always, ALWAYS, put other people before himself. His family, his friends, the people of Bedford Falls. George Bailey was the least selfish person and he devoted his life to helping people live their dreams. George Bailey had friends. Lots of them. He cared about people and they cared right back because “No man who has friends is a failure.”

(Clarence rings a bell)

Joe: Clarence, did you get your wings?

Clarence: No, I’m still waiting for them. I ordered them 20 god damn minutes ago. They stopped serving food when you turned the bar into a library. I’d like my jumbo wings, now, please!

Joe: Merry Christmas, everyone! Merry Christmas!

Clarence: (Rings bell repeatedly) Give me my mother fucking wings, Bunkhouse!

Joe: And scene.

[ghosthierophant]

TOP OF THE ROUND!

“zugg”: so you do... what you do... for others? / what are you doing... for you?

d’rask: i guess i... don’t know... anymore

HE’S JUST LIKE ME FR

D’rask Wis Saving Throw, at Disadvantage: 12

WOULD’VE BEEN A NAT 20 WELP

just bc you don’t know now doesn’t mean you don’t know later... damn brett lemme take this to heart LMAO

“zugg”: you’ll find yourself brother (fades away)

.

“you can’t kill me like that, partner. you can’t kill what’s in your mind”

(logan sighs): then what is in my mind?

“you think about it, don't you? your son’s death? the failure of the case? what facade is doing what they’re doing? and why you got involved in it? you don’t have doubt? you don’t question there’s something you could’ve done better? to avoid this entire mess? you haven’t thought about this at all?”

logan: i’m not sure i understand what you’re trying to say / hmm... you are correct, i Should’ve been the one to stop it. but that’s why i’m here now. i’ve got a Lot to make up for

“do you think that you’re not the solution? maybe let the young blood try and solve your failures of cases.”

logan: maybe i should... they’re much better at it than i am, Clearly - but this is my job, and it’s the last thing i have to do

Logan Wis Saving Throw: 16

you have flaws, and cracks, just like anyone else. you do your best to not show it. but also, perhaps, acknowledging it and working thru it is a Braver act. / you have a case to solve, a murder to solve. and this event will not stop you here. time to press on.

(logan rolls his eyes)

you begin to hear the shouts up north - the clearly panicked Dash Whiskers

DAD MODE FUCKING ACTIVATED

.

“dr”: clearly, since i’m not your father, perhaps you’ll entertain a curiosity

hellebore: y’know what Sure, this is some Free Therapy in my brain right now

“dr”: what exactly is it that you’re trying to do?

hellebore: ............

“dr.”: have you even thought about it? are you just acting on impulse?

PIPER PUSHES HELLEBORE OUT OF CONTROL

piper: it doesn’t matter what i want to be, what i’m trying to do. as long as i can be happy and get our of your fucking shadow (walks away)

(following): unless you’re happy? 

piper: do you not realize that i’ve been playing house this whole time, just bc my sister’s happy / i want Her to be happy, i want to be happy / it’s not up to you anymore / you upped me and her from Our lives, so now we get to do with our surroundings 

Piper Cha Saving Throw: 19

the figure steps back. a silence falls over him.

“dr.”: i don’t think you understand. the only one currently keeping you in your father’s shadow is you. i hope, i genuinely hope, that you do something about that. i Know you’ll do something about that

piper: yeah shove my last fuck up your ass old man

POWERFUL MOOD

.

“dion”: so eli... what is it that you’re doing? what are you trying to accomplish right now? / it hurt those that you care about

eli: my family’s fine. i saw to that - you did. the Other you, the Real you, saw to that. that was the Deal

“dion”: you say everything in 0s and 1s, positive and negative. it’s a very cold way to live. and yeah, i saw to that. and yeah, your family may - or may not - be ok. but let me ask you this. was it Fair to them? that this needed to be taken care of? / was it fair, eli?

eli: Fair? you think any livin creature in this universe actually cares about Fair. nobody gets what they deserve. that’s not how this works. things Just Happen. good, bad, doesn’t matter. it just Is. they didn’t ask for it, neither did i. but there’s no goin back now, is there?

Eli In Saving Throw, at advantage: 19

life was never meant to be fair. sure, we hope and wish that we can get everything that we want, but sometimes we don’t. bc exactly what you said: Life Isn’t Fair. you have to carve your own path, make your own way. bc life, fate, whatever you call it, isn’t giving you handouts.

“dion”: good luck, friend. while we may not get what we deserve, i hope you get yours (fades away)

(eli exhales)

eli: good talk 

.

“WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO HERE, BOY? I UNDERSTAND YOU THINK YOU’RE DOIN THE RIGHT THING. BUT I TRIED. NO, I DID THE RIGHT THING. YOU REFUSED MY TEACHINGS, YOU REFUSED THE LIGHT OF HAIO. YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT’S INSIDE YOU. EVERYONE YOU KNOW AND LOVE, EVERYONE YOU’RE TRYING TO PROTECT-”

dash: Stop.

“IS GUNNA BE HURT BY YOU.”

dash: STOP

P A N I K

(dash is crying, there’s no way for him to stop it)

the words are making him feel like a kid again, and he can’t move.

“HOW DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GUNNA PROTECT THEM WHEN YOU CAN’T EVEN PROTECT YOURSELF?”

dash: YOU NEVER PROTECTED ME. YOU NEVER PROTECTED ANY OF US. YOU WERE NEVER A FATHER. TO ME OR COOP. I DON’T WANNA HEAR YOU / AT LEAST I CARE ABOUT PROTECTING THEM.

logan hears this outcry - dash seems to be in trouble.

logan: Dash, are you alright?

dash: i... i... are you real?

logan: am i Real, and i’m going to assume, based on your reaction, you are real too, yes?

dash: yeah... i think so

logan: are you alright? do you want to tell me what you’re seeing?

dash: i keep seeing my dad, but i know he’s not here

logan: good, good. none of this is here, dash. i don’t know if it’s victor or something else, but it’s Not. Real. / i don’t know what you were told. it most likely wasn’t pleasant. but it’s not real, None of it. 

Dash Wis Saving Throw, at Advantage: CRIT 23

what Are you going to do with this shadow that is within you? what are your feelings right now? 

dash is scared of it. he’s always been scared of it, but he knows it allows him to help people. he wants to understand it, so he doesn’t accidentally hurt anyone.

it’s within You that you’ll know what’s True, what’s Real, and what’s Good for you. fight for those that you truly care for. only You know how to answer that. 

PHASE 3 THREAD!!!! 

[the-lone-witch-and-secret-room]

Camila Noceda and Flawed Parenting

A perspective by a flawed person with loving but extremely flawed parents

I’m genuinely baffled at some people’s hostile reaction towards Camila. Like… do any of you have flawless parents that always know the best solution instantly, make no mistakes and never get emotional?

My parents are great. They’re super supportive and I love them very, very much. Overall I think I got very lucky in the parents department.

But god, they are far from flawless. I still live at home, and despite all the good, there’s moments when I can’t take my dad anymore. He’s the kind of dad that stayed up until two am to help me with homework when I was in school, and he does so, so many things to make sure I’m happy. I know that. But despite all of this, I have told my mom in emotional moments before that I’m not sure if I can keep living with him, because for all his good sides, he has a couple of fatal flaws that sometimes make him unbearable.

My mom listens to me and is very open to being educated on certain topics, but she has her flaws, too. She hates when I fight with my dad, and gets so torn up about it that I’ve once apologized to my dad out of fear of her getting into a car crash otherwise. She’s very vocal about certain flaws of mine, and sometimes uses the things she does for me as leverage against me when she gets very emotional.

And both of my parents pay a lot more attention to my brother because he needs it more, because he’s more of a “problem child” while I “seem so capable” even when I’m not.

And guess what? I’m not a perfect child. I make mistakes sometimes, some of them pretty severe. Just like Luz, I’m the kind of person that struggles to communicate certain issues of mine to her parents. I’m stubborn, and when I get emotional, I say very hurtful things sometimes. So do they.

And this has nothing to do with my parents being horrible or abusive. They’re neither of those things.

The takeaway from this should not be that my entire family is made up of terrible people, but that we’re all flawed in our own ways, despite loving each other and trying our best. There’s things about my parents I wish I could change, and there are things about me that my parents wish they could change. And to an extent, that’s perfectly normal.

In our strengths and flaws and frustration with each other, we’re all human.

Specific, spoiler-y Camila and Luz things under the cut since this got very long.

We have no indication that Camila has a pattern of emotionally manipulating Luz. Her “emotional manipulation” as I’ve seen some people put it, is people for some reason thinking that the second you become an adult, you’re suddenly perfect and can no longer make mistakes, lest you’ll be dubbed horrible and abusive.

The whole concept is absurd to me. There is no perfect way to parent. There simply isn’t. Of course, there’s some genuinely abusive patterns that are horrible and inexcusable. But out of the parenting styles that aren’t, which one works depends on a number of factors, one of which absolutely includes that every child is different and has different needs. Camila is an amazing parent for Vee, giving the kid everything she’s ever longed for. She’s not an ideal parent for Luz. And that’s because Luz and Vee have fundamentally different needs.

Likewise, Luz is a pretty great child for Eda, but not a perfect fit for Camila. Luz relates to Eda a lot more than she relates to her mom, and that’s why the two of them have an easier time understanding each other. Both of these mother-child relationships exist, and one is not more doomed to fail than the other, but I think you’ll agree that the better you understand someone and where they’re coming from, the easier it is to communicate, pick up on certain signs, etc.

As mom and daughter, Camila and Luz are both flawed and have issues seeing the other’s perspective because of how different they are. And we should simultaneously acknowledge both of their roles in the issue and give both of them the space to learn and grow past those issues.

Luz struggles to communicate her problems. She doesn’t want to burden people in the demon realm, and it’s a given that this started out as not wanting to burden her mom. So she keeps quiet about her issues. Camila tries hard but can’t read her daughter’s mind, so there’s only so much she can do to understand and help the way Luz needs her to. Hell, Eda, who Luz is a lot more open with than her mom, struggles to help her, because Luz doesn’t tell her what’s wrong. I don’t see anyone calling Eda a terrible mom for that.

Camila tries her best, but she struggles to understand her daughter because of this, and because of how fundamentally different they are. She loves Luz’s creativity, we actively see her supporting it in the new episode—she keeps the weird stuff Luz made because she thinks Luz will regret throwing it away, and even plays along in what she assumes to be some elaborate role play because “she’s glad Luz kept her creativity even though it’s not made things easy for her at school”. But at the beginning of the show, said creativity got out of hand and people got hurt. Luz could’ve gotten hurt. So of course Camila had to interfere. I love Luz dearly, but she thought it was okay to bring snakes to school and set off fireworks inside a school building. Creativity is great. Doing reckless stuff that causes people to get hurt is not.

In sending Luz to camp, Camila tried to have someone else fix her issue because she didn’t know how to help Luz. That was a mistake, and a bad one at that, but she’s realizing that. She looks disheartened when Vee tries to throw out Luz’s stuff, because she never meant to change her daughter or take that part of her away. She just thought Luz needed a reality check—which, for the record, is something the narrative actually agrees with.

Luz spends her time in the demon realm getting reality check after reality check, realizing that even her ideal fantasy world where she has everything she always wanted doesn’t mean she’s free of consequences. She goes overboard constantly, causing:

-Eda to be forced to fly into a trap because Luz is chasing a fantasy (Witches before Wizards)

-Eda to almost be branded by her sister because Luz doesn’t think through why Eda doesn’t use magic to publicly announce her presence constantly (Once Upon a Swap)

-Eda and the twins to get kidnapped by a Slitherbeast because Luz stole Amity’s wand (Adventures in the Elements)

-Her friends to get hurt when she goes overboard trying to help Willow (Wing it like Witches)

-Eda to be captured and almost petrified because Luz thought she could just steal from the Emperor with no consequences in an attempt to help (Agony of a Witch)

I’m like 90% sure these aren’t even all. None of those make her a terrible person, for the record, but as all humans are, she is flawed and makes bad choices. She learns from these experiences and matures, just like her mom had hoped she would at camp. She’s also made friends there, which was another thing Camila wanted for her daughter.

You’ll probably realize that a lot of Luz’s behaviors I mentioned follow one of two patterns: 1. Luz’s idealized fantasy world causing problems, when she walks around with rose tinted glasses and gets people in trouble in the process because she hasn’t thought about the consequences, and 2. Luz trying to help someone she loves, but instead making things worse in the progress. The issue with this one is often that she doesn’t communicate her ideas/listen to the people she’s trying to help—like when Willow and Gus said they’ve had enough of Grudgby, or how she never actually talks to Eda about the healing hat idea before doing something reckless.

…does the latter one sound familiar to you at all? No? Because it’s the exact same thing that Camila did.

Some of the things Luz does are reckless and actively endanger others and herself, and that’s something that I think we need to acknowledge before judging Camila. As Luz’s mom, it’s Camila’s job to interfere in those situations. That she made a mistake while trying to protect Luz doesn’t make her a terrible person, especially as, again, the narrative proves her right to an extent.

I’m not saying her making Luz promise to come back and stay isn’t something that hurt Luz—it absolutely is. But it was born out of desperation. She’s emotional and in shock. She’s so full of pain and regret. She just wants her fourteen year old daughter home safe, and there’s nothing abusive or even morally ambiguous about that.

From Luz’s perspective, what she says is absolutely heartbreaking, but from Camila’s, it’s perfectly reasonable. I doubt Camila has the full picture, but even if she does, she’s had a full fifteen seconds to process that her daughter has not only been lying to her for months, but chose to leave her, and is in the demon realm of all places. Of course she’d be emotional and upset about that! Who wouldn’t? Camila isn’t a robot. If she’d been calm about this I’d be way more concerned, honestly.

My parents don’t get mad that easily, but if I would lie to them for weeks on end, they’d be pissed off too, not even taking the running away from home part into account. That’s a normal thing. People don’t like being lied to. Camila is absolutely devastated in that moment because she’s scared that Luz left because she hates her, when Luz actively states that her leaving wasn’t about her mom—which is another thing we should really be acknowledging.

Abusive parents suck and abuse should obviously never be apologized or trivialized, but saying something hurtful in the heat of the moment isn’t the same thing as being an abusive parent. My parents have done this. I’ve done this. And yes, those things can be emotionally manipulative, but there’s a huge difference in whether that’s a habit or a person speaking out of hurt and desperation in a very specific context. I doubt there’s anyone on the entire planet that hasn’t had a bad moment where they’ve said something like this because they were hurting. People lash out when they hurt, and they beg for reassurance when they’re scared. That’s something we all do.

The whole mindset of “all parents have to be perfect and can never get upset or make any mistakes” is harmful as hell, and honestly also very unrealistic. No parent is perfect, and especially people like me who have a relationship with their parents that’s very good overall should know that.

Once you have a child, parenting is a non-stop learning process, every day for the rest of your life. Taking away that room to grow and expecting perfection isn’t helping anyone, especially not struggling single parents.

And I see Camila as someone who is very willing to learn, because at the end of the day, all she wants is for Luz to be happy. Let’s give her some time to wrap her head around this whole situation. Let’s see what she says once she sees for herself how happy Luz is in that world, may it be via the videos eventually coming through or Camila visiting and meeting Luz’s found family, her friends and her girlfriend.

Ultimately, I don’t think Camila will force Luz to stay at home, but we have to give her some time. She wants what’s best for Luz, and she’s gonna need some convincing that a dangerous magical world is what’s best. I feel like that’s very normal considering the circumstances.

Her and Luz need to work on their communication on both ends, they both have things to learn, but I’m certain they’ll manage to fix their relationship in the long run.

If the bunk bed is any indication, I think Vee is gonna stay in the human realm permanently while Luz sleeps at home but keeps attending Hexside in the daytime. That feels like a solution that keeps everyone happy, and allows Luz to spend time with all the people she loves. I can’t see her being forced to choose at the end.

As a closing statement: Eda isn’t an ideal mom, Amity isn’t an ideal friend or girlfriend and neither is Luz, Lilith isn’t an ideal sister… but that’s because no one is ever an ideal anything. Being flawed is a big part of being human. Everyone has different facets to their personality. Their flaws are what makes them such great, relatable, believable characters.

And I feel the same way about Camila. She’s an extremely believable character that reminds me of my own parents, flawed but very loving nonetheless.

(Also honestly, I think it’s pretty telling that some of you guys immediately bash the black single mom that’s obviously trying her hardest while giving the benefit of the doubt to Alador, who has been portrayed as neglecting and threatened his six year old daughter on screen. This was already a thing before we knew much about either of them, and I’m disappointed but unfortunately not very surprised that it still is.)

[pyroclastic727]

Notes from the Amphibia panel!

• Matt Braly got into animation when a Pixar guy came to his school to inspire him. Then he took figure drawing classes, went to CalArts for 4 years, worked at Dreamworks storyboarding, and started pitching shows.

• Jessica Chandra went from live action to applying for the Nickelodeon animation internship. Then she worked on Tangled before Amphibia

• Roxanne Cole did character design at first and then switched to storyboards--then Matt reached out to them

• Joe Johnston followed Matt's path, even being college roommates--but before that, he and Matt went to California Summer School for the Arts (now Interspark)--along with Alex Hirsch and others. He got Matt to work on part of SU.

• They start with a clip! It's an animatic for the Marcy Theme Song Takeover, and Haley Tju sings

• IT ENDS WITH HER SINGING "HOPE NOTHING BAD EVER HAPPENS TO ME"

• What are challenges in balancing the show's tone, after the s2 finale?

Joe: The tone kinda marches along with you as you go, esp with s1 and s2, and it's been pretty easy.

Roxanne: I came on for season 3, so my experience is watching the tone evolve from the beginning to the end, which is a lot of fun. Stuff about when are we getting into plot, into fun episodic moments (there's plenty of both). The characters are complex and flawed, albeit fun and goofy.

Jess: We had to bolster our design team and add to our schedule to make Matt's vision come true.

• Favorite episode you've directed, and more specifically, favorite scene?

Roxann: it would be from season 3...

Joe: From season 2, is Bessie and Microangelo, since it's funny and lighthearted

• How does Amphibia explore Loss?

Matt: Loss is one of the many feelings that is part of this cocktail called life. It will be something that everybody deals with. These intense things that the characters go through create realistic scenarios. The running theme of Amphibia is that the price is paid and every dream costs something. It will get heavy. Kids love to see these things explored. You want the full spectrum of the human experience in the show.

Jess: I agree. Watching this, I was like but why, Matt, why? It is part of life, and I think it's gonna be interesting to see how this is gonna affect all the characters and how they deal with it.

Joe: being 13 is tumultuous, and it's all about change and loss.

Roxann: I'm trying to be real careful because I know more about s3...Anne from s1 to s2 has become a completely different character and they [characters] are gonna change more in s3

• What do you love most about your role on the show?

Matt: It's less about what I can do and more about inspiring others... it's good to see people do their best work because they're motivated and have a rapport.

[Jess, Roxann, and Joe agreed, that the people are important.]

Roxann's first directory experience was on season 3.

• How do you decide what needs more budget? How do you balance action and comedy?

Joe: You can plan ahead a little, and roll with the punches. Jenn Strickland storyboarded everyone when they fought the robots.

[It got boring and I zoned out. They discussed distributing episodes to boarders.]

• What inspired some of the episode

Matt: Studio Ghibli, Legend of Zelda

Jess: Movies that came out recently, Jurassic Park, Star Wars, magical world genre

Matt compartmentalizes. Which is why Anne does that as well.

[They discussed their hobbies outside work. Matt has none.]

A season takes about a year to produce. They are produced stacked so that you don't have year-long gaps between airing. Episodes are done in production order usually.

Holiday episodes are out of order because of when they need to air. (Christmas special might be out of order).

• Out of all the roles, which goes underappreciated or doesn't get enough attention?

Roxann: Production gets glossed over. Artists have terrible time management and production keeps them on track

Matt: Revisionists, who "spackle" everything and go unrecognized. Basically, they clean the boards and get underpaid for it.

Jessica: The Checker! At the end of the production line, they catch ALL the errors. They're also called continuity editors. Often people will forget the right number of props, such as swords.

• What is it like, balancing episodic comedy and story art? Both dealing with heavy topics and making them approachable.

Matt: it's designed to be an episodic show, one that you can watch out of order if needed--although jumping in can make you a little lost later on. He wants self-contained AND long-form stories. (This is probably why we have lore-bomb episodes matched with plot arc episodes). He was inspired by Steven Universe's pacing, especially with the buildup "to a fever pitch"--and he hopes they can do the same.

• Is there a story you haven't told yet, that you have always wanted to tell?

Matt: Had wanted to tell a story about someone stuck in the hospital, since he was stuck in the hospital once. (Might be the inspiration behind Marcy in the tube, implying she won't get out quickly).

Jessica: Mrs. Boonchuy's childhood--coming to America, raising a child...

• What are your feelings about pitching boards?

Matt: I personally really like it. The energy in the room when you're pitching a new board.

Roxann: It's not my favorite thing. I was more involved in the animatic process, and recording scratch was the only pitching I did. (She pretended to be Hop Pop and took psychic damage at her recorded voice).

Joe: I really enjoy pitching (he's great at it, does voices and plays music)--especially when you have time to prepare.

In the chat, the top questions were about LGBTQ+ representation. All were ignored in favor of the

• They showed the s3 trailer rough, with music written by JAKE NEUTRON

It's really quiet and sad

"Making friends and enemies" showed Marcy and Sasha respectively

Lots of reused clips

MARCY HAS A CRUTCH AND IS MOVING

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 31, part two

(Masterpost) (Pinboard)

Warning! Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Flute Solo

Wei Wuxian is at the end of his tether, becoming more and more emotional until he decides he’s done talking and would rather express himself with a flute solo, like his sometimes-buddy Lan Xichen.  

Yeah I know I keep making this same joke but it will never not be funny to me, how slowly Wei Wuxian gets into flute-attack position. And nobody ever interrupts him! Lan Wangji and his guqin would have taken out 40 guys in the time it takes Wei Wuxian to start playing. 

Wei Wuxian likes to play with his eyes closed so that he can concentrate on the music and not be distracted by his minion(s) going ape shit in front of him. 

Wen Ning takes advantage of the tight camera angle to sneak into the frame and punch his fist into Jin Zixuan’s spine. 

Do we need a gif of Wen Ning punching his fist into Jin Zixuan’s spine? No, no we don’t. 

Jin Zixun is so horrified I actually feel sorry for him. He’s a prick but he’s a loyal prick; he would never hurt Jin Zixuan, and probably really loves him. 

Jin Zixuan is also horrified.

Goodbye, Hummington font; I’m going to miss you. 

(more after the cut!)

Wei Wuxian finally realizes that things are not, in fact, under his control. Jin Zixun starts to get angry but Wen Ning quickly strangles him, which he totally deserves. 

Party Pooper

Back at Jinlintai, Jiang Yanli is playing wiht a drum toy to keep Jin Ling entertained. The party is over but she’s still hoping Wei Wuxian will show up.

Jiang Cheng is waiting around with her. He picked up the wrong robe off the floor after his hookup with Zewu-Jun, so he is wearing dark blue and white with geometric acceents.

Jiang Yanli is wearing beautiful and luxurious pink and gold, in soft tones that suit her personality. Her husband and mother-in-law take good care of her. 

The baby has hair now. How long does it take to walk from Yiling to Jinlintai?

Still Friends

Lan Wangji comes in and Jiang Cheng goes to talk to him. The big tragedies in this episode are sandwiched between small ones; for some reason seeing these two standing so close and talking relatively informally just gets me. They're still friendly, today.

Lan Wangji is wearing diaphanous ultra-sheer robes over blue, so pretty. He has dressed in this conspicuously sexy outfit in anticipation of seeing Wei Wuxian. In a modern AU this would be a white mesh tee shirt and robins-egg-blue leather pants.

Lan Wangji is worried. The boy he dressed up for is not showing up and he wants to know why. Also he wants to know why all the Lan cultivators his brother brought have fucked off to follow Jin Zixun. He has a sinking feeling that these things are connected.

He asks Jin Guangyao, who gives him one of his stock bullshit answers.  

A lackey comes in to deliver the news that Jin Zixuan is dead. He doesn’t mention that Jin Zixun is also dead. Maybe he doesn’t remember who that is. 

Jiang Cheng is horrified and looks to Jiang Yanli, who drops the toy drum, which breaks, just like her heart. She doesn't drop the baby, however, so good on her. 

Jiang Cheng has many flaws, but he is always so good to his sister. 

Jin Guangyao manages to hide how happy he is now that his plan has come to fruition; he’s taken out the heir and the spare in one move. 

Lan Wangji takes no pleasure in discovering that he was right, all those times he warned Wei Wuxian about losing control. 

Aftermath

One thing I both love and hate about this show is that when something terrible happens, we spend at least as much time on the aftermath than on the terrible thing itself. Which is how trauma survival often works. In a way the whole show is about the aftermath of the Lotus Pier massacre; Jiang Cheng’s capture and maiming is like a stone dropped in a lake, sending ripples of consequence onward into more and more lives.

Back in the burial mounds (how did they get back? nevermind, nevermind) Wei Wuxian is out cold, being tormented by vengeance voices. When he wakes up, he’s angry as we've ever seen him. 

Wen Ning kneels in apology while Wen Qing stands by anxiously. Wei Wuxian kicks him across the room and screams at him. 

A-Yuan picks this moment to come into the cave with his grass butterfly - the one that maybe symbolizes Wei Wuxian, or the happy bits of A-Yuan's difficult life, anyway.  

Wei Wuxian gives him a terrifying angry look and A-Yuan drops the butterfly and starts crying. Wow, everybody’s dropping stuff in this episode. 

Granny comes and carries him away--permanently, as it happens; this is the last moment of A-Yuan and Wei Wuxian's relationship, until they meet again in Wei Wuxian's next life.

Wen Qing stands by while Wei Wuxian rages at her brother, pain written all over her face; probably for both of them. Wei Wuxian calms down a little and asks himself, internally, why he bothered to do all of this, why he sacrificed so much. He realizes that it's not Wen Ning's fault that he's a fierce corpse. 

Wei Wuxian laments that he doesn't know what to do and wonders who can tell him. Wen Qing takes this as her cue to stick a paralysis needle in him, because she and Wen Ning have already decided what needs to happen next. 

Once Wei Wuxian is incapacitated, Wen Qing tells him, in one of the saddest scenes in the show, that they've decided that that the two of them are going to surrender. They think this will keep the Jins from coming after Wei Wuxian and from killing the rest of the Wens. 

Wei Wuxian does not approve of this plan, and he super wants Wen Qing to let him up off the bed, but she refuses.

He is grasping at straws, hoping they can identify who placed the curse and clear his name that way. He explains that he doesn't have a rebound mark, etc. etc. Wen Qing tells him that nobody gives a shit about the truth, and that because he's the Yiling Laozu, no-one will believe it even if he can prove it. She counters all of his desperate ideas with relentless logic. 

Next Wei Wuxian says that he should be the one to turn himself in. He's the one who turned Wen Ning into a ghost puppet and controlled him. "Why is the murderer not going and the knife is going instead?" he asks. 

Wen Qing calls him "Wei Ying" instead of Wei Wuxian during this part of the conversation, incidentally, in case we weren’t already crying. 

Wen Qing finishes up by saying that they should have been dead a long time ago, and that this has been bonus time. Then she dopes him with a ball of red energy, and tenderly bids him farewell as he drifts off to sleep, saying the “sorry, and thank you” that becomes a touchpoint phrase for him in his next life. FUUUUCKKKK.

Wen Ning bows formally to Wei Wuxian as he sleeps, and then they take their leave, as Wei Wuxian cries a single sleep-tear, like we've seen both of his siblings do. 

All the Wens leave the burial mounds together, which is pretty optimistic of them. Wen Qing and Wen Ning are the only ones who are supposed to be punished; the rest are going as an escort, I think, not expecting to be victims. But the Jins are the worst, so. 

When they leave the clearing in the Burial Mounds, they have A-Yuan with them and Wen Qing is also still wearing her Yiling outfit. Presumably they take a minute for Wen Qing to hide behind a tree and change into her final outfit, while someone else runs back with A-Yuan and hides him in the temple. Theoretically Wei Wuxian could wake up, grab A-Yuan, and beat it to some safer location, living out his life as an anonymous flute player who occasionally leaks black smoke. But he doesn’t know that A-Yuan is there, and has no reason to think anyone is left.

Wen Qing: I will leave 2 people behind to watch over you.   Narrator: No-one will stay behind to watch over him.

Surrender

At Jinlintai, Jin Guansghan is barely wearing mourning clothes, like maybe he already had some light-colored robes in his closet. Very fancy light-colored robes. Jin Guangyao is even more chill, in normal clothes with a mourning belt. Damn, dude. 

Wen Qing looks beautiful in her bright Wen red with black underneath. Wen Ning is still in his previous robes, black with a dark red underrobe: Wen colors, sort of, but more recognizably the colors of the Yiling Patriarch. 

Wen Ning looks pretty upset but Wen Qing seems to be at peace with this ending. Sigh. Farewell, Wen Qing.

In the great hall, Jiang Yanli and Jin Furen are wearing proper mourning clothes -- rough, plain whites -- and having servants burn joss paper for Jin Zixuan, because if you want to honor a Jin, exploiting a servant is the right way to do it.

Wei Wuxian is dreaming of being lost in a foggy forest, crying as he hears Yanli's voice telling him to come home and that no-one is blaming him. Which is probably not true, although Yanli is prepared to forgive him. 

Then he hears Wen Qing's last words to him, and forces himself to wake up, while a mournful version of Jiang Yanli’s music theme plays on the soundtrack.

We never see him take the nail out of his back, which is the sort of thing that I get stressed about, but it doesn't seem to bother him. Maybe it's a dissolving nail, like dissolving surgical stitches.

Wei Wuxian stumbles out into the empty plaza, and runs away into the forest, headed to Jinlintai. 

Soundtrack: Classical Gas by Mason Williams

[dragonologist-in-the-making]

Paper Rings

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Summary: On his first ride to Hogwarts, James befriended the girl who was obsessed with shiny things. Over their schooling together, their friendship turned into so much more.

A/N: lmao I suck at summaries. Also I’m back sorry for the random hiatus (and sorry that posting will almost definitely not be consistent after this either). I had this idea months ago, inspired by Taylor Swift’s Paper Rings, and I only just got around to writing it asdfghjkl. Still obsessed with James though rip me I just want someone to love me like this.

Warnings: Mentions of eating (briefly), otherwise just a lot of fluff.

Wordcount: 4k (wow)

...

Little James Potter waved goodbye to his parents as the train took off from the platform, nervous about his first journey to the infamous Hogwarts, but excited to discover all the great things his parents had told him for himself. First though: finding a carriage.

Trying not to show his nerves, he wandered along the corridor, peeping into the carriages to see if there was one he could join. For the most part, he found them all too full, too loud to juggle his nerves, or the students too old and intimidating. The days would come where James would rule the corridors of the castle, but the eleven year old boy on the train was just hoping to make a friend he could share this new adventure with.

As fate would have it, he found just that and so much more. In a carriage to herself sat a young girl, his age, her face turned away from him looking out the window. The only thing he could see was a petite sparkling bow, sitting neatly in her (y/h/c) hair.

Without thinking about it, he knocked gently on the compartment door, sliding it open as she turned to look at him inquisitively. Her (y/e/c) eye’s glittered as her lips pulled into a smile, creating a complete sense of comfort for James to ask. “Do you mind if I sit?” She nodded eagerly, gathering up a few books she had dumped on the opposite seat and dropping them into her lap. “I’m James.” He smiled.

“(y/n). It’s nice to meet you.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a short while, listening to the laughs of older students, friends reuniting after a summer apart, and watching the landscape whip by them out the window.

“I like your bow, by the way.” James spoke up, feeling glad he did when an excited smile broke across her face, looking as if he’d told her she’d won the lottery.

“Thank you! I love the way it sparkles.” She said, gently pulling it from her hair and twisting it in the sunlight, showing how rainbows danced in the glitter and were thrown across their compartment. Satisfied, she used it to clip back the hair that was now falling into her face, and their conversation moved on, following each and every thought they were having, becoming fast friends. James didn’t think the journey could get any better until two boys showed up at their door and asked if they could join them, setting everlasting friendships in stone.

As the train pulled up to Hogwarts, any nervousness James had been feeling was gone. Instead, the only thought he had was that he couldn’t be more glad he sat in the compartment of the girl with the sparkling bow.

…

Their first year passed in a blur, and the Marauders spent the majority of it in each other’s company, laughing their days away.

Now, summer had come and gone, and their second year at Hogwarts was in full swing. They walked into their charms class together, laughing about a joke Sirius had made at James’ expense. (y/n) sat next to the curly-haired boy at their desk, as Remus Sirius and Peter sat at the one adjacent to them.

“Hey, it’s not my fault I didn’t make the team last year! No first year has made a house team in like 80 years! I’m telling you though, I’ll make it on this year, and I’ll be the best chaser this school has ever seen.” James protested, huffing as he put his textbook in the middle of the table for him and (y/n) to share. She laughed at him softly, hand patting his shoulder as the other boys got lost in their own conversation.

“I know you will, Jamie. And I��ll be there cheering you on every step of the way.” His cheeks redenned at her words, but luckily their attention was turned away by Professor Flitwick.

“Now students, the charm I’ll be teaching you today is more of a fun one to start off the year than anything you’ll likely need in your everyday lives. As always, I don’t expect you to create chaos by using these charms” – he turned his gaze to a particular group of students at this point who were all busily looking elsewhere – “but simply to enlighten yourselves and to show you what magic can do. So, the charm we’ll be learning today is how to make things glitter.”

James heard an almost inaudible gasp next to him, and he could feel the excitement radiating off (y/n). He chuckled, expecting nothing less; he’d known her for a year now, and if it wasn’t the bow in her hair there was always something shiny on her at any given time.

Flitwick talked about the details of the charm, how it could be applied subtly, only giving a faint sheen, or how it could be made much more obvious. Finally, he gave them the charm and told everyone to repeat after him. “Now, like I said, just because this is a fun charm doesn’t mean it’s an easy one, and I don’t expect you to get it on your first attempt. Just keep repeating the charm and-oh!” He broke off suddenly, just as James’ vision went hazy. Once he’d focused, he saw he was surrounded by a cloud of individual glitter specs floating around them, almost as if they were in their own galaxy. His gaze shifted to its centre, shining most brilliantly of all as her proud and excited smile dazzled him, making him forget entirely they were still in their charms classroom.

“Well done Miss (y/n)!” Flitwick’s voice broke through their bubble, and slowly each star seemed to fade out of existence, until they were back in their regular old classroom, thirty pairs of eyes trained on them. “You certainly felt the spirit of the charm and went above and beyond. 10 points to (y/h). Now, if you could help Mr Potter whilst we all get back to it!”

Chatter burst out the classroom almost immediately, partners working together trying to enchant an object of theirs to take on the glittery effect. Sirius turned to her, rolling his eyes half-heartedly.

“Becoming a teachers pet now are we, (y/l/n)?” She rolled her eyes back, waving her wand to produce a cloud of glitter that settled in Sirius’ hair, contrasting sharply against its darkness.

“It’s sparklesSirius, what did you expect? Now c’mon, this is the one lesson I won’t let you not do the work in. Make some glittery greatness and I’ll bake you all some cookies when I next steal James’ cloak to go to the kitchens.” With those words, the three boys turned their entire focus to the task at hand, while James still seemed slightly awestruck next to her. “You alright, J?”

“That was amazing (y/n/n). I had no idea you could do that.”

“Well I guess you can’t know until you try.” She shrugged, picking up her quill and placing it in front of him. “Charm my quill.”

“Why me? You could just do it yourself.” James asked, confused why she didn’t do it herself since she was clearly more than capable. Once again, she shrugged, looking into his eyes as she uttered the words so nonchalantly that would stick with him for years to come.

“Well, Flitwick said you needed to practise. Plus, it’ll mean more to me if every time I look at my quill I know that you’re the reason it’s shining.”

Within a heartbeat, James had uttered the incantation and a subtle shimmer had settled over the feather, imperceptible until it was moved and caught the light. The smile he saw when he looked over at (y/n) made him vow to himself that as long as he was around, she would never have an ordinary quill again.

True to his word, every time she brought out a new quill, he was quick to snatch it from her and place the simple charm on it. It became an unspoken promise between the two of them, and every time James saw that sparkle from the corner of his eye, he couldn’t help but smile to himself.

. . .

True to her word, (y/n) was there for all of James’ games, cheering him on from the side of the pitch, always the first to reach him when the game was over. High or low, win or lose, she was always there to remind him that he had played amazingly, and that she was proud of him.

After one such game in their fourth year, Gryffindor narrowly losing to Slytherin, she was at his side so quickly that he would have thought she had apparated if he knew this wasn’t possible. She wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly, feeling the slight shaking of his shoulders. “Oh, James.” She quickly ushered him off the pitch before he attracted eyes, assuring him that Sirius and Remus would collect his things from the changing room and bring them back to his dorm. Once they reached his dorm, she sent him to shower, promising that she would be there for him once he was back.

Sure enough, he came out of the shower in fresh clothes and damp hair, and she was still on his bed, patiently waiting for him. She held her hand out to him, a silent invitation, and as soon as he took it she pulled him to her side and once again enveloped him in a hug.

“I’m so proud of you, Jamie.” She whispered, squeezing him momentarily before drawing back and looking into his glassy eyes.

“Shouldn’t be.” He murmured, avoiding her gaze. “We lost.”

“And yet you scored more goals than anyone else the entire game.” She pointed out, sincerity lacing her voice. “It’s just because the snitch is worth a stupid amount of points, honestly the game has a lot of flaws.” James smiled weakly, they often had these debates about Quidditch and it always ended in some silly way.

“I did hit Malfoy in the head with a Quaffle.” He admitted, and (y/n) could see the weight falling off his shoulders.

“The highlight of all our years.” She laughed, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a little box. “I got you something.” She handed it to him, and he pushed it back to her, head shaking, doubt returned.

“No I didn’t do anything to deserve it. Keep it.”

“We already had this argument and I’m not taking no for an answer.” She shoved the box into his hands and folded her arms across her chest, waiting for him to open it.

Reluctantly, he pulled the lid off the box to reveal a snitch, the snitch he normally kept on his person at all times, now shining with a slight iridescence. James looked up at her, thankful but a little confused at the present.

“I’ve actually been saving it for when you lose a game. Which has been hard because that’s hardly ever.” She broke off to give him a playful glare along with her words, quickly broken by her soft smile. “I know you play with the snitch when you have a lot on your mind, and when you start to doubt yourself. I wanted to remind you that you’re incredible and you should believe that yourself. So, when you see the snitch and you see it sparkle, you’ll think of me, and you’ll remember how great you are.” He was speechless, and in the silent air, she did what the two of them did best, and started to nervously babble. “Well, that’s assuming you think of me when you see sparkles, and quite frankly after all this time I’d be slightly offended if you didn’t-oof” her rambling stopped when James tackled her into a hug, knocking them both back onto the bed.

“Thank you.” Was all he said, but she could hear the emotion behind each word, everything he was trying to communicate. All she did was hold him tighter.

It was then that Sirius and Remus walked into the dorm, carrying all of James’ equipment from the game, causing James and (y/n) to jump away from each other. Blushes arose on both their faces, not that the other would have noticed, each too busy looking at opposite walls of the dorm. Sirius and Remus exchanged a knowing look, but decided to let it slide, knowing there was an inevitability to it anyway.

…

Once again, (y/n) was boarding the Hogwarts express for another year of school. She knew this year would be a stressful one, with their OWL exams coming up, but she also knew that as long as she had her boys by her side, she would be absolutely fine.

Speaking of her friends, she was currently walking along the train trying to find them. She knew that Lily and Remus were prefects now so they’d be at the front of the train, but she was struggling to find anyone else. Eventually, she found James, sitting in a carriage by himself, absentmindedly watching the view. She chuckled to herself at the situation, the reverse of their meeting all those years ago.

She slid the door open, catching his attention and his ever-so-addictive smile. “Got room for an old pal?” She asked, sitting next to him when he patted the seat, his hand enveloping hers as soon as she had, a silent communication. I missed you.

“I was starting to think you’d gotten cool and forgotten about me.” He joked, nudging her playfully.

“Piss off Potter, I was always cooler than you.” She teased back, glad to see that nothing had changed despite their time apart. It never did, they were always James and (y/n), inseparable no matter how hard anyone tried. “Where is everyone?”

“Lils and Moony are doing prefect duties, and Sirius enlisted Peter’s help to try and sneak into their carriage and get the insider information.” He rolled his eyes light-heartedly, forming air quotes around Sirius’ words as (y/n) laughed, eyes closing in amusement. “What’s that on your eyes?” James suddenly asked, stopping her laughter short as she tried to figure out what he meant.

“Oh!” She remembered. “I went to see Lils in the holidays and she was showing me this glitter eyeliner that muggles wear! Why, do you not like it?” She suddenly felt self-conscious, wondering if it really was too much despite Lily’s reassurances. It was a subtle white, but still, it was glitter on her face.

“The opposite!” James was quick to answer, rushing so much to not hurt her feelings that he wasn’t thinking about what he was saying. “I think you look really beautiful (y/n/n), with or without the makeup. Besides, the glitter brings out your eyes.”

At this point, they were both blushing furiously, and James was still holding her hand, neither of them willing to let go. (y/n) couldn’t help but smile to herself, and remembered to thank Lily for the recommendation the second they were in the dorm together that evening.

…

James climbed the last step into the astronomy tower, seeing (y/n) leaning against the railing already, gazing into the night sky, a blanket and an array of snacks out on the floor behind her.

It was a ritual they’d started who knows when, a chance to wind down and escape the chaos of everyday life, to enjoy each other’s company and to feast away on whatever snacks they had managed to stow away for these evenings. Tonight’s selection looked to consist mostly of cauldron cakes and chocolate frogs, with the occasional sugar quill hidden amongst the rest. “Heavy on the sugar tonight, I see.” He broke the silence teasingly, settling himself so that he was sat at (y/n)’s feet, still able to see the clear night sky above them.

“If I don’t consume my own bodyweight in sugar I think I’ll pass out I’m that exhausted.” She commented back, sinking down next to him. Automatically, his arm wound around her shoulder, pulling her into his side and resting his chin on top of her head. There weren’t words to describe the feeling of pure content as she melted into him, completely at ease.

She reached out and grabbed a chocolate frog, unwrapping it and handing the card to James with a sigh upon seeing it was one already in her collection. She bit into the chocolate, her gaze on the night sky as his was unable to break away from her, the way she settled so peacefully against him.

“The stars sparkle too, you know.” She broke the silence, voice quiet but still holding its signature melodic tone. James finally broke away from looking at her, joining her eyeline and looking at the constellations above them. Even though he wasn’t taking astronomy as a NEWT, spending so much time in the tower with (y/n) as she mapped the sky meant he knew precisely what he was looking at, and traced the constellations with his eyes.

“You know, six years of friendship and I don’t think I ever asked you why you like shiny things so much. I always just accepted it as a part of who you are.” A smile graced her face as she unconsciously twiddled her fingers.

“Don’t laugh.” She warned, and he solemnly shook his head. “I think there’s something so entrancing, so beautiful about them. I think it serves as a reminder that even the most seemingly dull thing,” she picked up another chocolate frog box at this point, waving her wand to create a light sparkle over it, “is wonderfully brilliant if you just remember to look at it in the right way. It’s a lesson we should all carry with us, and I try to remember it whenever I can. Everything is beautiful if you give it a chance.” The sparkles on the box faded in the moonlight, as (y/n) finally looked up at James, only to find him already staring back at her.

Body thinking quicker than brain, seeing her (y/e/c) eyes glimmering up at him, James leant down and pressed his lips to hers. She stifled a gasp, quickly moving her lips back against his as her hand wound gently around the back of his neck. He poured all of his admiration into the kiss, everything he had been feeling for her since he didn’t even know when, feeling his heart soar to be here with her in that moment.

Eventually, they broke away for air, and a breathy laugh fell from (y/n)’s lips, blush rising on her cheeks as she turned her face away. James reached for her hand, interlacing their fingers and gently rubbing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. “I’ve been drawn to you since the day I saw you in that train carriage. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, your soul. I didn’t even realise the outside matched until we came back from that summer you spent with Lily. But god, every day since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I like you, (y/n/n). I really like you.”

Around them, a shimmering cloud exploded simultaneous to a wide grin spreading across (y/n)’s face. It was their own galaxy, just like all that time ago in the charms lesson, but she was still in the centre, still giddy with excitement. “I like you too, Jamie.” Her smile turned a little sheepish. “And sorry, I think my emotions got a little out of control.” The star-like sparkles slowly dissipated around them until there was nothing left, and this time it was (y/n) who leaned up to James, connecting their lips one more time.

“You taste like chocolate.”

“I’m sure that must be awful for you, Potter”. Nothing had changed, and yet nothing would be the same either.

…

James was sat on the floor of his dorm, textbooks open in front of him, although this late in the day he was struggling to pay any attention to them. What he was focused on instead was his girlfriend, tucked into the alcove of the windowsill, absentmindedly writing away on a piece of parchment.

Her (y/h/c) hair was in plaits down her back, and in the candlelight the silver threads that James had helped her braid in this morning were casting light across the room that shifted with every little shake of her head or shrug of her shoulders.

“You’re staring again, Jamie.” She chastised, although the humour was clear in her voice. He pushed himself up from the floor with an exaggerated groan, making his way over to her and pulling her gently into his chest, pressing a soft kiss into her hair.

“Can’t help it love, you’re an actual angel.” He didn’t see it but he knew she’d be rolling her eyes as she buried her face in his chest to hide the blush that was forming on her cheeks.

“Stop being so cheesy.”

“As if you don’t love it.” She pressed a kiss into his chest, resting her head against him as she went back to her writing. He tried not to pry, but he couldn’t help but catch notice of his name and his interest piqued. “Who are you writing to?”

“Euphemia.” She replied nonchalantly, not pausing her actions as he took a step away, face scrunched in confusion.

“My mother?” she paused at this, looking up at him with false exasperation.

“Do you know many other Euphemias?” She deadpanned. He shrugged, admitting her fair point, moving back to her side where she immediately snuggled back into his warmth.

“How long have you been writing to my mum?” She paused for a second, contemplating.

“Since the start of term I think. She sent an owl, I responded, we haven’t really stopped talking since. Oh, I’m coming over for Christmas by the way, she invited me. Said it wouldn’t be Christmas without the whole family there” (y/n) looked up at him, flashing a mischievous grin, expecting him to whine childishly like he normally would, complaining that he was supposed to ask her. Instead, looking more solemn than she’d seen him in a long time, he crushed her against him, holding her so tightly before he leant down and connected their lips. The kiss was bruising, but it was packed with adoration, and it left (y/n) slightly breathless. He broke away, leaning his forehead against hers as she tried to catch her breath back. “What was that for?”

“I love you. So much. You’re absolutely perfect, and I swear, I can’t wait until the day I can put a ring on that finger and make it official, make you a Potter for real. I promise, it’s going to be the most sparkling, dazzling gem you’ve ever seen. It’ll shine just as brightly as you, and it’ll always remind you that you’re beautiful, in every way, and just how much I love you.” Her hand had come to rest on his cheek, smiling throughout his little speech, parchment cast aside and forgotten about at this point.

“Don’t be silly, James.” She laughed, stroking his cheek with her thumb. “I love shiny things, yes, but I don’t need one to be reminded of how amazing you are, or how much I love you. Hell, you could ask me to marry you with a paper ring and I’d still say yes in a heartbeat. I’m saying yes to you, to a life. You don’t need to win me over with some ridiculously expensive piece of jewellery.” He nodded slightly, pecking her lips before moving back to where he had been sat on the floor.

(y/n) picked her parchment back up, continuing on to the letter she had been writing to Euphemia Potter, unable to help themselves from planning the Christmas festivities despite it being early November.

Deep in concentration, she startled slightly as she noticed movement coming from the corner of her eye. She looked to the side to see her boyfriend once again, although this time he was knelt before her, holding up a piece of parchment that he had hastily fashioned into a ring, coupled with a sheepish smile.

Laughing merrily, she hopped down from the windowsill, pulling him up by his jumper and kissing him passionately as she slid the piece of paper onto her finger, looking forward to the day when they were older, when they could promise this for real, knowing that they had the rest of their lives ahead of them to love each other unconditionally.

When James first stepped on that Hogwarts train, he was hoping to find a friend he could share every moment with for the next seven years. He had found that in her, a best friend, now a lover, for seven years but for so much longer. The girl with the sparkling bow turned out to be his soulmate, and he sent a prayer of thanks to the stars every day.

[jenomark]

hi💞 I want to request nct dream reaction to their s/o pretending that they won’t be able to do anything for the member birthday party or at last minute the s/o says they can’t show up, but at the end the s/o was planning the best surprise ever!

Mark: Something was missing. As soon as he walked into his own birthday party, he clapped his hand over his chest and looked around. Even though he knew you weren't there, he still looked around for your face. "Mark Leeeeeee," Jungwoo said, coming up behind him. "Party time." Mark tried to smile but felt like he was forcing it. He looked around at the effort all of his friends made just for him and replicated a humble face and voice. "Yeah!" Mark said. "Oh, man. This is nice. Thank you." When Jungwoo had disappeared into the throng of well wishers, Mark retreated to his phone to text you:

Mark- Baby, I wish you were here. You- Me too. Mark- Nothing is the same.

When you didn't immediately reply, he tucked his phone away. He sat in a chair and stared off into space, really trying his best to appear grateful. Cold hands fell across his eyes like a blindfold, leaving Mark to utter a long, "Uhhh..." But something in his voice changed when he breathed in. He could smell your perfume, and he began to feel happy. He got up and turned around, not stopping to speak because he was so choked up. Mark hugged you, pulling you into his arms, so happy that his only birthday wish had come true.

Renjun: It felt like an ordinary day, only Renjun knew that it wasn't. It was his birthday and he was another year older, maybe not as wiser. He got off work and came home to an empty apartment, the silence really hammering in the idea that he was growing old. He stalked across the room, checking his phone again for a message from you. When there were zero messages, Renjun let the loneliness creep in. He went into the refrigerator to grab a drink but stopped in his tracks when he heard a noise coming from his bedroom. He moved slowly towards the room, looking around for a way to escape if he had to. "I have a weapon." he called, looking down at his empty hands. Pushing the door open and stepping back to peek around, he saw you sitting on his bed, holding a lone cupcake with a candle in it. "Oh." he said, flicking on the light. At once, Renjun tore across the room and went onto his knees, burying his face in your lap. "I know I'm a little late." you said. "But I couldn't let you end this birthday without you knowing that I'm going to be here for as many years as you'll have me." He wouldn't look up at you from your lap, so you called his name softly. When he did finally look up, his cheeks were stained with tears that he tried desperately to wipe away. "I'm fine," Renjun said, quickly. "I'm okay. Don't look at me." You grabbed his face and kissed him. Renjun got up off his knees and sat beside you. He closed his eyes, made a wish and blew out the candle. "I didn't think you would come." he said. "Life feels empty without you." You hugged him and kissed him again. "I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere."

Jeno: For the weeks leading up to his birthday, Jeno had been dropping hints about how he wanted a lowkey celebration. He had said, "Nothing too loud. Only me and you, maybe my parents. No friends. No singing happy birthday. Nothing too traditional." You smiled prettily at him, your feet in his lap as he massaged them. He gave you a look that was supposed to translate that he was serious, but you knew Jeno a little too well. Days before his birthday, he pulled you aside. "You're not planning anything, right?" he asked. There was fear in his eyes and something that intrigued you. "No," you said. "You said you didn't want a party." On the day of, Jeno was losing his edge. He walked around the apartment as time ticked by, looking in places for mishidden balloons or decorations. You had even caught him fishing for information with Jisung, whom Jeno knew would break sooner or later. "You told me you didn't want a party." you said, crossing your arms. "Were you lying to me?" Jeno looked at you, blinking his eyes a few times and said, "No." You smiled and walked slowly to the front door, whipping it open and letting Jeno's friends and family pour into the apartment. When you and Jeno were alone for even a second, he wrapped his arms around your waist and whispered a sweet "Thank you." into your ear.

Haechan: "I don't want to go inside." he said. He pressed the hot phone against his ear and looked up and down the street. All of his friends had gone ahead of him into the restaurant, their moods uplifted by Haechan's birthday celebrations. "You have to go insi-." you said over the phone, your voice breaking up. Haechan leaned against the wall. He could feel himself choking up. He was sad when he heard you couldn't make it to his birthday dinner, but he told himself he would be okay. Once June 6th rolled around, he realized what a mess he had become. "I just wish you were here." he whispered. "You're supposed to be here with me." The agony in his voice was hard to conceal. "Donghyuck, baby." you said, your voice sounding the same as his. "Please try and have a nice time. You can call me when you get in and we'll video chat, okay?" Haechan agreed and hung up the phone. Taking a deep breath, he trudged into the restaurant, keeping his head down. When he made it to the back room where his birthday celebration was being held, the air began to feel different. Haechan looked up to see that you were standing right in front of him. "Surprise." you said. "The flight was last minute and I-" Your words were lost as Haechan flung himself into your arms, muffling out the sound of your voice.

Jaemin: You never knew what he was thinking, could never really rouse great emotions from Jaemin. It bothered you a little, so when it came time for his birthday, you made it clear that it was an event you had to miss. Only then, did Jaemin show a sign that he might be holding some feelings in. "My birthday?" he asked. "Why not?" You played with the hem of his t-shirt. "Well," you said. "I have plans that day." You looked at his stoic face, trying to read it. "Okay." he said, smiling brilliantly. "That's okay. We can do something after." A few days before his birthday, you wondered if surprising him would make him happy or not, or if lying to him was really the right move. Of course you would attend his party. You watched him all the time, just waiting for him to ask you to please cancel your plans, but he never did. On the day of his birthday, you got a text in the morning, so out of the blue. Jaemin wrote that he missed you. You replied that you missed him, too. You were dying inside. At night, before the party, you showed up at his dorm to completely ruin the surprise. Before he could speak, you said. "I told you I couldn't go because I wanted to surprise you, but I feel guilty about it and I can't lie to you anymore. " Up until then, you had shut your eyes tight. Jaemin's voice made you open them when he said, "I know. I was waiting for you to give in first." Your shoulders dropped. "You knew the whole time that I was planning on doing this?" you asked. Jaemin grabbed your arms and pulled you to him. "Yeah." he said, kissing you. "I win."

Chenle: "I want five hundred balloons. All metallic." Chenle said. "And a parade where I'm held into the air, but Haechan has to be holding me up. I want everyone to look at me like I'm a king. I want them screaming my name, and I want Stephen Curry... Are you writing this all down?" You looked at your boyfriend with sadness and said, "You're not going to be home on your birthday." For a second, Chenle had forgotten. When he remembered, his face fell. "A shame." he said. Weeks after that talk, you had planned to make it to wherever he was. It didn't matter that he was in another country working. You got on a plane after him and you followed that boy, using all of Dream and their manager to secure the perfect birthday gift. After he had gotten done his schedule, Chenle was taking his mic pack off and weaving his way through the crowd of people on set. Mark put his hand on Chenle's back and guided him in another direction. "You're wanted, man." he said. Fearing he was in trouble, Chenle asked why he was wanted, but Mark didn't answer. He walked with his friend anyway, allowing himself to be pushed through a crowd of people just trying to do their job. When he realized it was just a makeup artist that needed him, Chenle breathed a sigh of relief. He ducked down lower to let her work on his face, his eyes glazing over. "Are you having a nice birthday, Chenle?" the makeup artist asked. Feeling his heart strings tug, he looked into her eyes. It was only then that he realized it was you. Chenle backed up and opened his mouth wide. Jaemin, from beside you, handed you a few metallic balloons. "I know it's not 500 hundred balloons but-" you said before Chenle swept you off of your feet.

Jisung: You were on the phone with Renjun, frustration in your voice mounting. "This is not the way things were supposed to go, Renjun." you said. "I'm freaking out." The traffic was moving too slow, and your heart was hammering in your chest. For Jisung's birthday, you had the most brilliant plan, but it had backfired badly. You were supposed to phone Jisung and tell him your train was running late, and you didn't think you could make it to his party. When the prank was fulfilled, you would come out of hiding and show him that you'd been there the whole time. The only flaw in the plan, was that Jisung took it to heart, and vanished from his party when he first got your call. You were on your way to the train station with the hope that he would be there waiting for you. "I'll call you when I find him." you said, flinging yourself out of the car. You ran into the station, pulling the mask tighter to your face. You walked briskly through, spinning around to look at all of the people traveling. You were almost ready to give up when you saw Jisung standing by himself, looking lost, with his hands folded in front of him. You ran to him, your shoes drawing his attention. You hugged him and said, "I'm so sorry. My train wasn't running late. It was a joke. I didn't think you would come find me." You were nearly hysterical but Jisung was calm. "It's okay." Jisung said, hugging you tighter. "The only thing that matters is that I get to spend my birthday with you."

[dudeandduchess]

Kyojuro and “I like the way your hand fits in mine.” if you have the time and energy please. Thank you.

Hey hey, Ren!!! I hope you like it! ❤️‍🔥 I had this idea since a couple of days ago, and me and Biz just fleshed it out during a jam session. Now, here’s me polishing it for a fic. The prompt was just so perfect that I had to put it here. I hope you like it! 😌❤️‍🔥

***

Kyōjurō x F!S/O: Ramen Nights (Fluff, Modern AU, SFW Scenario)

Summary: Wherein Kyōjurō’s wife wakes up with a craving for ramyeon. Full domestic fluff.

Kyōjurō didn’t even know what time it was. All that he knew that was there was something shaking him awake. At first, his initial thought was to wake his wife up and run out of their apartment— with her slung over his shoulder— in case it was an earthquake. However, he was proven wrong, and really dragged from his sleep, when she called his name out in a whisper.

“Kyō? Kyōjurō?” (Y/n) uttered in a tiny whisper, all while moving her hand on her husband’s arm, to start poking his chest. “Kyō, wake up.”

He didn’t even want to open his eyes, and everything in his body told him to keep sleeping, but his wife’s soft pleas had him cracking his eyes open, all while he stretched his arm that she had been using as a pillow. “Mm? Yeah, baby? Are you okay?”

Instead of answering immediately, (Y/n) had to pause— both physically and mentally— as she made the mistake of looking too closely up at Kyōjurō. Even with how horrible the light from her bedside lamp made her look, it still made the blond look so handsome.

He was so close to looking ethereal, in her opinion. But she wasn’t going to tell him that; he already had a big enough head— especially with her entire family loving him so much. Deep down though, she still believed that he was the most handsome man in the world.

“(Y/n)? Is something wrong?”

At that, the young woman quickly shook her thoughts from her head— knowing that she would pick them up at a later hour. Then slowly, her lips quirked up into a small smile, as she made sure to give her husband her best pleading look. “I’m hungry, Kyō. I want some ramyeon.”

Her craving played right into her husband’s skillset too, which had her waking him up in the first place. Had she craved for anything else, she would have gotten up and done it herself, because for all of Kyōjurō’s perfection, he also had some flaws.

Like how he couldn’t cook anything except fried eggs, rice, and instant ramen. And that hadn’t been without months of teaching Kyōjurō how to do things just right— including cleaning the kitchen up spotlessly afterwards. Even Senjurō had been pleasantly surprised when Kyōjurō had made him rice and a fried egg when he came over to visit.

“Ramyeon is the spicy one, right? That Korean one you like.”

Slowly, (Y/n)’s small smile tipped up into a sweet grin, silently thanking the gods that she had such a kind husband. “Yes, the one that has the same name as your dad.”

“My dad… Shin…” The young man mumbled softly, before cracking a smile and turning so he could press a kiss to his wife’s forehead. “Dad ramen. That’s funny.”

It really wasn’t, but Kyōjurō was just so adorable that (Y/n) didn’t have the heart to tell him that. “With two eggs, okay?”

“I know, baby. And add green onions if we have them, as well as mushrooms,” The blond answered with a grin, as he reluctantly pulled away from his wife and got out of bed. However, even if he had already kissed her forehead, he still leaned down and brushed another kiss against the top of her head.

“I love you, Kyō,” (Y/n) bid gently, all while trying to bite back a blush and a flustered smile that wanted to make themselves known on her face.

However, her effort was all for naught when Kyōjurō answered, “I love you more.”

And with that, he slipped his home slippers on, before making his way to the kitchen to make her request. All the while, (Y/n) sat up on the bed and turned the TV on to keep her occupied while waiting for her midnight snack.

After all, she didn’t want to miss out on another one of hers and Kyōjurō’s ‘Ramen Nights’. Safe to say that it was a common occurrence in their household, that’s why it had gotten a name in the first place. And it was during those nights that she got to spend time with her husband— without life getting in the way and cutting their time short; as the world was already asleep, and they were free to just bask in each other’s company.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for Kyōjurō to cook her ramyeon; coming back to their room with it in a bowl paired off with only one set of chopsticks.

They were so used to that song and dance that (Y/n) immediately turned the TV off, before hitting the switch for Kyōjurō’s bedside lamp— illuminating their room even more— before she set off to wait for him to sit down by the end of her bed. And once he was all settled, she gingerly climbed onto his lap— wanting to straddle him, but settling for sitting sideways instead.

“Made with extra love,” Kyōjurō whispered as he handed the bowl over to her, all before pressing the gentlest of kisses against her cheek. “Just for you, baby.”

“Thank you, Kyō,” (Y/n) uttered sincerely, giving him a peck on his lips in return— and also earning the most adorable blush on his cheeks. Even after five months of being married, and two years of being together, he never ceased to be so cute whenever she caught him off guard.

After that, all conversation between them stopped; it was just the two of them enjoying each other’s company— with (Y/n) taking turns feeding Kyōjurō too. They were in their own little bubble, and it was obvious that they loved it there; judging by the tiny smiles and the lingering kisses that they shared every once in a while.

“This tastes even spicier from your lips,” Kyōjurō whispered after pulling away from one such kiss. He even made a show of licking his own lips, then winking at his wife— which was totally worth it when she started giggling like a teenager. “You make it so spicy, baby.”

“What would I have ever done without you, Kyō?”

“You don’t have to think about that, since I’d have always found a way to meet you,” At that, the young man took the empty bowl from his wife’s hands and set it down next to him on the bed. Then he wrapped on arm around her waist, as the other one wrapped around one of her hands— which she had set down on her thighs.

Slowly, he brought the hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to each of her fingers; before rubbing his thumb over her knuckles in an effort to soothe her. “After all, you’re my soulmate.”

(Y/n) felt her tears prickling the backs of her eyes at that, but she blinked in the hopes of keeping them at bay. She didn’t want to ruin such a good time with the waterworks— even if her pregnancy hormones were the one responsible for her being so emotional.

Seeing that, Kyōjurō brought her hand back up to his lips, before tightening his grip on it. “Have I ever told you how much I love the way your hand fits in mine? Like you were made just for me.”

It was a clear ploy to distract her from her tears, but it only served to make her heart melt even more for her husband. “You’re too perfect for me, Kyō.”

“You’re wrong, baby. You’re the one who’s perfect; my perfect wife.” Those words didn’t fail to finally have the waterworks running; (Y/n) could even feel her face scrunching up into one of her undesirable crying expressions, so she quickly wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck— even burying her face against his skin.

“I love you.”

Instead of pulling her away to check on her, Kyōjurō brought his arms up and wrapped them tightly around (Y/n)— even rubbing her back as she kept on whispering her words of love for him. He would be crazy to even turn her away, when he loved every single thing that she was saying; especially adding in the fact that she was pregnant with their first child.

Kyōjurō could only hold her closer to him, before pressing a kiss to the side of her face, before grazing his lips by her ear. “I love you the most, (Y/n). I’m never letting you go.”

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Michael After Midnight: The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

When I was younger, I hated this movie. I hated it because it was so different from the books, it changed so much, blah blah blah. Little did I know back then that this is exactly by design. Douglas Adams was not a man content with doing the same thing twice, and liked to spice up each adaptation of his work with new things and changes. Add onto that the fact he actually worked on this movie prior to his death, up to and including writing some of the screenplay… Yeah, I was getting mad at the author for doing what he wanted. With all this knowledge I revisited the movie as an adult, and…

It’s honestly not that bad.

So I think the thing is it is very hard to adapt the dry, witty humor of the book perfectly because the narration is pretty impossible to keep in a cinematic experience. A lot of the funny bits of the book are just how the narration is, much like A Series of Unfortunate Events. Unfortunately, back in the early 2000s Netflix wasn’t around to show that you could keep in a humorous narrative character to maintain the integrity of the original, so they had to work around that. We do get a few bits of that charming Adams wit when the Guide (voiced by Stephen Fry, because really, who else could do it?) pops up here and there, but we don’t get enough if you ask me.

But that sadness aside, there is plenty to like (and a couple of things not to like) here. Don’t panic, though; I’m mainly positive.

Most of the cast is pretty perfect, if I’m being honest. Future hobbit and Wakanda’s token white guy Martin Freeman truly captures the loser everyman spirit of Arthur Dent perfectly, and Mos Def is funny and charismatic as his alien pal Ford. Bill Nighy and John Malkovich pop in for some brief and enjoyable roles as well. Still, there are two clear standouts of the cast. The first is Sam “Justin Hammer” Rockwell as Zaphod Beeblebrox. While it is a shame they altered his design a lot, the fact it was to let Rockwell not have to sit in a makeup chair forever so he could do his thing is well worth it. Zaphod is just as stupid, egotistical, vain, and hilarious as he should be, and Rockwell is clearly having a blast. The second is, obviously, Alan Rickman as Marvin. If ever there was a voice born to give itself to a suicidal, depressed robot, it was Rickman’s. And lets not forget that the suit performance of Marvin was done by everyone’s favorite little person, Warwick Davis. Marvin is just made of cool in this movie (even if he doesn’t think so himself).

Speaking of the suit, I have to say the practical effects in this movie are simply phenomenal. Since this was before CGI became the answer to everything, we have a lot of great sets, and what CGI we do get is used for funny things like having dolphins ascend into space or to have a whale hurtle out of the atmosphere to collide with the ground. The standout work is the Vogons, creations of the Jim Henson Creature Shop; they look as disgusting, repulsive, and alien as you could hope these poor poets and bothersome bureaucrats could.

Sadly, there are some flaws, especially the corny romance between Arthur and Trillian. Trillian herself is kind of the weak link, being played by the queen of Manic Pixie Dream Girls herself, Zooey Deschanel. Deschanel isn’t offensively bad or anything, but she just lacks the humor and charisma of everyone else around her. She’s not even really effective as a straight man, because she just doesn’t really react in an interesting way to the wackiness around her. I get that Adams wanted the romance in here, but it’s just hard to get really invested in it when one half of the characters involved are just incredibly boring. If I’m being honest, this is really the biggest thing holding the film back. It would be less of a problem if it wasn’t a core element of Arthur’s role in the story.

Still, I think I can let it slide. If we ignore the romance (which is hard to do) we stil have a very fun, funny, witty little film that is like a British version of Futurama, or perhaps even a nice blend of Futurama and Monty Python. Really, I think this wasn’t a movie that the kid version of me should have watched even with how much I loved the books; I just wasn’t ready for this. Now that I’m almost thirty I can truly appreciate singing dolphins, a sentient pot of petunias, Alan Rickman giving all the Vogons suicidal depression, the part where they turn into yarn, and all the other fun sci-fi wackiness on display here.

I don’t think this will ever be anyone’s favorite film, or even their favorite version of Hitchhiker’s, but for what it is it’s a perfectly enjoyable experience. It definitely feels like a labor of love that honors Adams and his legacy, and even if it has a few problems with the execution I definitely think it’s worth a watch now and then. The humor and most of the casting is on point, and there’s a lot of great visuals and practical effects. It will give you the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything (42), but you’re not going to find out what the question actually is here.

I guess, to sum it all up, this movie is… mostly harmless.