#NO! NOOOO! PAST ME YOU WERE NEVER MORE WRONG!!!

[shivapvoid]

im never coming back to this piece what was i thinking

[merryfortune]

feeling bloody sick

Written for the Rarest of Rare Pairs Fic-A-Thon Amnesty Era

Prompt: Fire Emblem Fates: Beruka/Camilla/Selena - One falling sick and being taken care of by the other two

Title: feeling bloody sick

Ship: Beruka/Camilla/Selena

Fandom: Fire Emblem Fates

Word Count: 1,898

Rating: T

Warning: Choose Not to Warn 

Tags: Mid-Canon, Polyamory, Menstruation, Teasing, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

   Beruka did not get sick.

   Sickness and whatever caused it were rightfully scared of Beruka, like everyone else ought to be as well, and that was why Beruka did not get sick.

   Of course, having a sound mind helped. She didn’t do foolish things like not washing her hands properly or standing too long out in the rain. And yet, despite continuing on as she always had with this point of pride somewhere over her shoulder, she had finally done it.

   She had gotten sick.

   And the symptoms were nothing less than baffling. 

   She was hot and cold. She was sweaty and clammy. She felt as though she had been stabbed through the gut and all she wanted to do was curl up and die in some little hole with a blanket over her. She was so ill that if she tried to sleep, she couldn’t because the pain was distracting but she was so tired, too. She could fall asleep at any second but the call of the void blared within.

   What had happened to her? Beruka analysed her past few days for what might have gone wrong but nothing came to mind. She hadn’t interacted with anyone sick nor eaten anything foul. It had come out of nowhere and affected her and her alone.

   “Selena… please…” Beruka murmured, curled over on her bed. “I… I think its my time. I trust you and Camilla to do it quickly.”

   Camilla laughed at the dramatics. This whatever it was Beruka was afflicted with was bringing out a totally new side of her and it was kind of adorable.

   “You just need to drink more water.” Selena insisted.

   “Noooo, that makes me want to pee.” Beruka whined then huffed.

   “You need to go, don’t you?” Selena asked, reading through the lines.

   Beruka nodded shyly.

   Selena sighed. “I’ll help.”

   Good thing, too, Beruka was wobbly as she crawled out of bed and almost hit the floor once she was on two feet. Selena supported her and Camilla opened the door to the ensuite. 

   They gave Beruka some privacy and waited.

   Then.

   She screamed.

   “Camilla! There is blood!” Beruka howled. Suddenly full of life and panic, just like the death rattle of a dying animal, really. “There is blood in my urine!”

   Camilla and Selena, on the other side of the door, exchanged a look. Part of it surprised, part of it amused. Either way, tinged with concern.

   Beruka hobbled over and banged on the door. She was let out as her unflappable expression was anything but.

   “There is blood. In my urine.” Beruka reiterated with distress.

   “Oh, sweetie…” Camilla cooed.

   “Are you… on your period?” Selena asked with her face scrunched up.

  “My period?” Beruka echoed back like an owl. “I’ve never had my period in my life. I-I’ve always assumed I was barren.”

   Camilla hummed thoughtfully, “Or maybe, you’re just a late bloomer.”

   “A very late bloomer.” Selena repeated but with a more dubious tone.

   “You had a hard life before becoming my retainer. Food wasn’t always on the table, you slept in tents and slums. To say nothing of the work that you were doing… Perhaps that delayed your periods until now.” Camilla theorised then laughed. “It’s kind of sweet to know that you feel so subconsciously safe with us, actually.”

   Beruka paled, puzzled.

   “That could be true, actually.” Selena agreed as she folded her arms. “My periods were spotty when I was twelve, and that’s normal since that’s when I first got them but, um, when that big disaster happened when I was around seventeen-eighteen, they all but dried up. Only resuming after we had recovered.”

   “I see.” Beruka chewed on the anecdotal data with much consideration. Her brows furrowed and she put her hand to her chin.

   “Come on, dear,” Camilla sighed with a small smile, “let’s not worry about it too much just yet. Let’s get you back to bed, let you rest up some more. Here, Selena and I will go and fetch some creature comforts for you. A hot water bottle, maybe some chocolate.”

   “Yeah.” Selena agreed.

   Beruka’s expression turned foul. Her? Get taken care of by her mistress and her fellow retainer? The idea of it made her stomach turn- oh, no, actually that was probably her period. How mortifying either way, however, and becoming the ultimate proof that they were right. She needed to go back to bed and rest up.

   “Allow us.” Selena said with grabby gestures of her hands.

   “Fine.” Beruka said through gritted teeth.

   It was disgraceful but she allowed herself to be manhandled by Selena, and Camilla too. They helped her back to bed but having a name - or revelation - to her ailment made it more manageable somehow. She felt more awake and alert than before, when she had been begging for a mercy kill over it.

   How embarrassing. Now Beruka was hiding under the covers for all new reasons. She knew she still wasn’t going to get to sleep a wink but orders were orders. As indulgent as they were. So, she laid down and rugged up, blanket to her chin as she stared across the room to the doorframe where Camilla and Selena stood.

   “We’ll be back soon, sweetheart.” Camilla bade her.

   “Understood.” Beruka croaked.

   They closed the door behind themselves and the wait was crushing. The dull stillness of the room numbed Beruka’s mind with boredom. All she had to focus on was that thrum of the stomach cramps which had yet to recede. She tried different positions to alleviate the hurt but all of them violated her conventional wisdom of how to deal with an injury. The more bunched up she was, the better she felt.

   She closed her eyes. Slowed her breathing. That helped somewhat as time passed at a glacial speed. The headache that had been lurking eased up at that and yet… Curiously returned when her ears pricked on the sound of footsteps: the paradoxically delicate clunk of armour and the stamping of a petty child in leather. No guesses as to who when the door to her room opened again.

   “We’re baaaack.” Camilla sung out.

   “And we have chocolate.” Selena cheered smugly.

   “Gee, thanks.” Beruka rolled her eyes.

   They returned to her bedside with an entire basket of goodies. A cursory glance through the contents that weren’t obscured by Camilla or the cane weaving of it, Beruka saw the chocolate and hot water bottle she had been promised. As well as sanitary napkins and some spare pairs of underwear.

   “We spoke with one of the physicians and they raised some alarm. The pain you seem to be in isn’t normal…” Camilla lamented as she sat down next to Beruka on her bed. “But they also said, it might just be because it's your first, hard to say without more of a known pattern.”

   Beruka groaned. She had decades of this to “look forward” to and that alone tortured her half as much as her damned by the gods, good for nothing uterus. Awful, just awful. She clutched her belly and raked her fingers through the flesh until it hurt good.

   “In the meantime, let’s get some pain killers into you.” Selena said.

   “Thank you…” Beruka said.

   She swallowed more than just her stoic pride on that one. She uncurled and wriggled up, allowed herself to be doted on by her partners. Beruka drank water with a mix of herbal powders. The taste was bitter but she was the last person to complain about that. Though, the fact that a cube of chocolate was offered next helped the medicine to go down.

   Camilla took far too much relish in getting the opportunity to personally hand feed Beruka. Beruka saw what she was like with her siblings, she would be needlessly cruel to deny Camilla her affectionate nature at a moment like this.

   “I hope you feel better soon.” Camilla said.

   Beruka exhaled through her nose and settled into her bed. She was now flanked - or more gently, spooned - by both Camilla and Selena. Her mistress to her right and her fellow retainer to her left. The increase in shared body temperature was going to make Beruka melt with the excess of pampering didn’t first.

   Camilla caressed Beruka’s face, wiped sweat off with her axe-calloused fingertips. She smiled and played with Beruka’s hair. Beruka went around in circles in her mind between hating it and loving it. She thought she had long since calcified any need for this sort of thing but Camilla was her greatest weakness: hence why she needed to be protected. Ugh, it just made Beruka want to get better soon yet there were more days of this until normalcy resumed for a moon’s cycle.

   “Is there anything else we can do?” Camilla asked.

   “No, all my needs are accounted for.” Beruka replied.

   “But if I had to guess,” Selena teased and poked out her tongue, “you are probably worried with how we’ll go with you taking a back seat to your duties, correct?”

   “Correct.” Beruka confirmed.

   “Don’t worry, I’m more than capable of picking up the slack.” bragged said and her hands snaked downwards, she took Beruka’s hand and started playing a game on them akin to ‘this little piggy’, “You concentrate on getting better. We’ll concentrate on everything else.”

   “Heh. Thank you.” Beruka said.

   “Never change, Selena.” Camilla laughed at the attempt of rivalry.

   All three of them knew the bond that united them was nothing quite so tumultuous but old habits broke hard. Still, Beruka appeared somewhat assuaged by that. She sank back into her bed, closed her eyes, and her expression changed: became as serene as it could be for someone like her.

   Beruka exhaled slowly and she drifted off slightly. Perhaps even dozed. Her head lolled to the side.

   “I think it's time for us to take our leave, Lady Camilla.” Selena whispered.

   “Me, too, Selena.” Camilla whispered.

   The two women were careful to dislodge from Beruka’s side so as to not disturb her. Though, her head nodded further to her left than before.

   Camilla leaned in and pecked Beruka’s temple. Beruka’s lips twitched. Camilla reared back and Selena did the same.

   “Thank you…” Beruka murmured.

   “Eeek!” Selena squealed.

   She bolted straight back. Her back straightened and the last hair on her head raised as her eyes went wide. Her arms turned to iron bars in front of her chest in having been ambushed like that - and by Beruka saying something nice, even! How dare.

   All whilst, outwardly, Beruka looked fast asleep.

   “What…?” Beruka sleep-talked. “You… you think I don’t… sleep with one eye open?” She yawned.

   “Get proper rest, Beruka.” Camilla told her. “And when you do feel better, don’t forget to clean up with what we gave you.”

   “Will do…” Beruka snored.

   Selena eased up and she put her hand on her hip. Camilla gave her a gesture and she nodded. She extinguished the candle nearby and that helped the room to darken despite the hour of the day. She also drew the curtains tighter for Beruka’s benefit as Beruka yes, still heard all these things.

   The swish of the fabric, the taps of footwear on the wooden boards but still. She appreciated it deeply in her hour of need and moment of weakness. Though by now, the medicine was kicking in by now but ultimately, she still felt bloody sick.

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

Oh. Just read your post about child reader for characters who are traumatized and my first thought was….reactions for a child reader who is considered to have some form of disability and doesn’t fit in in general society, befriending the circus troupe and them hanging out with said child, before realizing they have friends their age who are considered “normal” by their standards and that these friends and their parents actually help and care for disabled child reader like it’s the most natural thing in the world and can even lightly joke about it with the reader.

Like, if the readers friends were questioned why they go so far to help and include them, they would just say something like, “but they’re our friend. Isn’t that what friends do?”

Gah. Basically what they needed as kids 😭🥺💕

noooo haha don't make me cry- XD

Fuckin’ ‘ell, make ‘er cry, why don’t y’?! It’s so difficult for her to swallow down any visceral reaction about this, because… well… it’s true. That kind of support was what she and her family needed and didn’t get when they were younger. (In some ways, they still need it now.) While there’s a part of her which automatically distrusts the situation, worried that your friends and their parents are trying to take advantage of you in some way, the part of her that still has hope wins out. This is a wonderful things that’s happening, and she’s happy for you. Even though she’ll try to help you as best she can, it’s a relief that other people with possibly more resources want to help you, too.

Lord, God, it’s… times are changin’, ain’t they? This is the first time he’s seen someone like you being really, truly accepted by people in ‘normal’ society. Not only that, you have friends who understand that you might have some limits, and their parents understand too, and… they help you. They help you without looking down on you and they treat you like a person, not some half-a-person like the world treated him and his family. It warms his heart more than he knows how to express. That’s it; all your other friends get rides on his back just like you do!! He’s just… he’s glad that even when he can’t be there to help you, you have other people.

Wow… would y’ look at that? That’s somethin’ else! They’re very impressed by the ease with which these other children and their parents have just… taken you in as one of their own. Even Freckles themself was a cheerful and somewhat carefree child despite their circumstances, but this is on a whole other level. You don’t ever need to worry, because you’ve got them and your other friends and their parents to look after you. They all love you, and Freckles is over the moon to see you having good relationships with so-called ‘normal’ people. To them, it means that things in society are getting better. You’ve got people behind you to give you plenty of support… and, for the record, Freckles is delighted to be one of those people!

Well, well, now… that’s a sigh’ f’r sore eyes. As if ‘e’s ever seen anythin’ like that before. The discovery hits him like a punch to the stomach, except in the best way possible given how hard emotions always hit him. For their whole lives, he and his family were cast out from the world because of the things that were supposedly ‘wrong’ with them. Then here you are, with so many people who care about you and they don’t think anything’s wrong with you. They just see a person, not someone who’s missing parts or too big or too small or whatever it is. Around you, he just smiles… in private, the first time it actually fully registers with him, he cries. He didn’t have that sort of thing when he was young. You do. The future is going to be better than the past he grew up in, thank God.

That’s… incredible. It’s like nothin’ ‘e’s ever seen before, ‘n’ thank God f’r it. He doesn’t even have a word for how it makes him feel, although he’s never really been a man of many words anyway. To see other people treating you so well, as if there’s not a thing that’s out of the ordinary about you, tugs at his heart. For most of his family, it was unavoidable; they were all so physically disabled, nobody could pretend something wasn’t off about them. He’s almost moved to tears when he realizes that you have other friends, ‘conventional’ people who treat you like one of them… because you are one of them. The world is getting better, bit by bit. He’s honored to be a witness to it, firsthand.

Fuckin’… wot… is ‘e seein’ wot ‘e thinks ‘e’s seein’?? Honestly, he finds it hard to believe, even though he wants to believe it. People like that don’t really care about people like you — people like you, people like him. His family know what it’s like. None of them ever had such overwhelming support; what is it about you that people want to accept you like that? He doesn’t understand that it just so happens, your friends and their parents are good people. He never ran into any good people, not the way you have. He’s happy for you, of course, that he and his sister don’t have to be the only ones who are nice to you… but he also can’t help being a little jealous. What you have is something the little boy he used to be aches to have had.

(Oh, (Name) has such good friends! Can you imagine?) Well… no, he can’t really, Donne. He wishes he could, though. The only way Snake can even sort of imagine it is to think about what he has with his family. If he’d met them all earlier, he might have something similar to what you have. Even then, nobody in ‘normal’ society would have taken him in like your friends and their parents have. To see these people treating you like just another person, without any kind of inclination that they think you’re different in a deeply terrible, irreconcilable way… it’s almost healing to a part of him. While he’ll always happily support you and be your friend, he’s relieved that he isn’t your only friend.

Goodness, it’s almos’ unthinkable, ain’t it? T’ see other people jus’… bein’ ‘appy t’ be with y’. She’s so used to thinking something is wrong with her and her family, even though you knows there’s not, that she’s terrified when she first sees these other people around you. A big part of her believes they’re hurting or exploiting you in some way. When she sees that isn’t the case… she’s shocked. These people just take you as you are? Differences and all? It doesn’t bother them? Much like her brother, she has some envy about it… mostly she’s happy for you. If you’ve found other people who accept you, who give you help and love without being patronizing, she’s glad. Your life will be better for it, and hopefully, you won’t have to suffer the way she and her family have.

[ask-missparker]

Take me back to the night we met…

~ This is basically dialogue section back and forth hehe

For AU context: Mia and Liane were an absolute duo, never seen without the other and shared history. But somehow due to an accident of misunderstanding and lack of knowledge, they fell out…even though they both still care about each other.

~~~~

“Why didn’t you tell me you and Parker were close before?” Cassie asked sipping tea.

Liane sighed, “It’s in the past…”

~~~

“Do you even know my cousin?” Rochelle asked chuckling.

Mia nodded, “She’s one tough cookie..”

~~~

~~~~

“Hi.”

“Hey..”

——————

“Lia what happened to you?”

“I messed up…”

——

————

“I swore if I ever got off this road of just being a single designer..I’ll do something with my life, Mia..”

“And you did..you’re a very clever gal, you saved others like a bird set free..”

———

Liane saving their fellow citizens and glance at Mia who smiles at her kindly.

———

“You’re Liane Felton, worlds greatest artist…”

“And I was your first save..”

——

“You know your much more than that, Mia. You’re strong and stubborn..one of my favorite things about you..”

“And here I thought you were sick of my stubborn attitude.”

“Nah, it keeps me grounded..”

“And on your toes..”

The two laugh.

———

Mia knock on her door holding a tub of ice cream. Liane grins leading her inside.

———

“I guess our past is behind us..”

“It did when you left without saying goodbye.”

“Excuse me?!”

“You hear me, you left. You kicked me.”

————

———

Sitting on the bench discussing an idea together and bickering over the topic until they’re done.

———

“Lia.”

Liane turns around smiling, “Oh my goddess! You’re back!”

——

“Miss Felton..”

She smiles at her, who was standing in the doorway.

——

“Hands off bitch!”

Mia looked up after being shot and a blast of purple fire broke through the bad guy.

——

“Oh, Miss Mia look who survived?”

She turned around sighing in relief as grinning, “Oh thank goodness, you’re back!”

———

Modeling dresses together and bouncing off ideas, while late night snacking.

———

Mia dragged Lia away from a late night sewing session and chuckling.

“Noooo! Five more…” She yawned, “…uh stitches to do…”

———

———————

———

“I don’t trust your new friend Selena, Liane..I mean she’s kind and sassy…but she’s snarky..”

“Oooh someone jealous?”

“What? No! Haha I just think you should be careful.”

“Okay I will, but I don’t see nothing wrong with her.”

————

“What is wrong with you?! I can’t even imagine why you would do think that!”

“I don’t know what you’re even saying!”

———

“You’re sold me out?”

“I could never!”

———

“What’s all of this? Liane think about this. You’re not thinking straight here..”

“I’m not?! You’re the one who moved on to takeover a damn mission without consulting me..”

“I never took on any mission!”

“Selena was right.”

————

———

Cut to scenes of screaming, crying and throwing hands in the air then one of them leaving…

—————

~~~~~~~

~~~~

“I wish I could back to the night we met or fix things…” Liane replied calmly.

Cassie smiled, “Only time will ever tell..”

~~~

~~~~~

Was i watching a lot of multi-ship and multi-friendship video on YouTube recently? What? Noooo…i could not help it hehe

Let me know what you guys think!

Tags: @ask-starrk @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre @wizzzardofoz @thechoooooosenone @rickb-chaos @luna-d-marsh @marvelsfavoriteuncle @elzabeth-stark @sci-fi-lexcon @jackiequick @blueboirick @gcthvile @aidanxsophxoxo @meiramel @trulysummersprivate and etc

[rita-repulsa-ke]

The end of the road

"Noooo," Eve agrees. "Pretty low odds. But there's got to be a chance, right? That we stop and we talk and it doesn't all turn to shit? That we rip off the masks and you don't find me boring and I don't find you an abomination?"

Eve and Villanelle on a drive at night. Things that didn’t happen or maybe did.

It is night and Villanelle is driving down an unfamiliar road, Eve asleep next to her, curled like a pillbug, head cradled against her own arm. On either side of them, the world has dissolved into undifferentiated void. Except for the occasional distant stars of headlights, slowly resolving into flares that hurtle past without comment, they could be the only people in the world.

It starts like this. In Russia, Eve asks, “Come with me. Just the two of us.”

"Okay."

They steal Konstantin’s car and they drive and drive and drive. They stop, get petrol, road food, pee—Eve has to pee so often, she may have a disorder—but they don’t really, meaningfully stop.

They don't talk much, either. Too many possible wrong combinations of words. Eve fiddles with the radio, sings along loudly to the songs she knows and softly to the ones she doesn't. Villanelle looks out the window, then fogs it with her breath and writes out messages on it.

Help me. VxE Hi, Eve

Eve glances over at the last one and laughs. "Hi," she says, then glances over a few more times, but Villanelle doesn't know what to write next. She changes the radio station instead, practices mimicking the regional accent of a particular host, repeating each phrase a half-second behind, which always drives Konstantin to madness. Eve doesn't comment, doesn't stop, keeps driving.

It gets dark. Eve asks, “Do you want to drive for a while?”

"Does it bother you to drive at night?”

“No,” Eve says, then, “Yes. Does it bother you?”

“No."

Really, she’s never given it much thought. Now it feels like something she can do, something far less fraught than stopping.

As she takes the wheel, though, she finds she does like it. She likes the quiet and the dark and the way she can pretend there is no bloody past trailing behind them, no looming, uncertain future where they will be forced to use words and that will probably ruin everything.

She watches Eve, twitching in her sleep, and tries to name her own desires.

Some of them are easy. Fucking. Killing. The simple, everyday ones.

There are others. She has no idea what they are.

All at once, she isn't certain Eve is really here, that she is really here, that this is really happening, that they have run away together at all. She reaches over, pinches Eve hard and even though she did it, still jumps when Eve shrieks, clatters awake, all flailing arms and hands and head and feet, more besides, Eve is a person capable of flailing every part of herself when startled.

So that's something she's learned about Eve.

"What?!" Eve says, dark eyes blown wide, the same eyes that looked up at her from against a refrigerator, on a road, in a bathroom, the ones that keep appearing in her dreams.

"…I wanted to make sure you were real."

Eve thinks about that. "Normally, if you want to check something is a dream, you pinch yourself," she points out, but she's relaxing, uncurling, accepting that the immediate danger isn't happening yet. She yawns, big like a snake, capable of swallowing an egg whole. "Where are we?"

"Russia?"

She watches Eve work through some geography in her head. “No,” Eve says. “I don’t think we are. Not anymore.”

Maybe they aren't. They could be, though. All these wide-open, empty roads between places remind her so much of her homeland, hours of driving between towns, nothing on either side but the press of the dark.

"Oh. That is good. I hate Russia."

Eve looks at her with open curiosity, and it occurs to her for the very first time to wonder what exactly it is Eve wants from her.

She doesn't ask. She is worried to ask, to learn too many true things about Eve, to resolve Eve from interesting enigma to real person. Real people are almost all boring, a series of levers and switches she is forced to pull to get what she wants.

Eve is an asker though. She wants to know. "We're going to have to stop eventually," she asks, broaching the forbidden. "What then?"

"I do not know. This was your idea. What's the plan, Eve?"

She likes the shape of Eve's name in her mouth, the way it uses her lips and tongue and throat in combination to form the sound. Having said it once, she finds she wants to say it again.

"No plan," Eve admits. "I have no idea what I'm doing. I mean, objectively, this is insane." She's wearing a delighted, delightful grin as she says it, vibrant, vital, excited by her change in circumstances, and maybe what Eve wants from her isn't entirely about her at all. "I don't know what happens next. I shouldn't be here. I really shouldn't be here with you." She sobers, glances at Villanelle out of the corner of her eye.

"Why are you?"

"Because I can't stop thinking about you," Eve says. "Because I want to know where the road goes."

"This one?"

"Our road. You and me." Eve says, hands behind her head, wild smile back on her lips.

"It probably does not end well."

"Noooo," Eve agrees. "Pretty low odds. But there's got to be a chance, right? That we stop and we talk and it doesn't all turn to shit? That we rip off the masks and you don't find me boring and I don't find you an abomination?"

It doesn't seem likely. The odds are bad. She has things about her life she likes that will be ruined if she runs away with Eve Polastri like a bad romance movie where they never have to show you what happens after the credits roll.

In Russia, Eve asks, “Come with me. Just the two of us.”

Villanelle tries to imagine it, what would happen if they left together. All she can come up with is a long, endless road in the dark, with a very slim chance at the end.

"Does it bother you to drive at night?” she blurts.

"No," Eve answers at once, followed by, "Yes. Does it bother you?"

It is a stupid way to make a life-changing decision. But all at once, she wants to know what who Eve is as a person, on the infinitesimal chance the result is more exciting than the mystery. She wants to find out what happens at the end of the road.

"Okay,” she says.

They steal Konstantin's car and drive and drive and drive. When they finally, really stop, it’s Eve who asks, "What happens next?"

Before either of them can answer, the credits roll.

[yallemagne]

So, I was clued in by several references to Micheal Myers that the movie my brother was making me watch was a Halloween movie and, having never watched a single one, I went to the Wikipedia to catch up. I figured out through getting through all of the Wikipedia synopses that the film I was watching was the final one! Amazing.

Spoilers. Also, trigger warning: I hate slasher films. Not for moral reasons, so slasher nuts can put down their pitchforks. I just. Blech. But this film had a silver lining.

EDIT: I misspelt Allyson's name bc it was misspelt in the subtitles.

For a moment, at the beginning of the film, I thought maybe they were referencing Mikey as a horror movie icon, but that was not the case. I had been tricked-- HOODWINKED -- into watching a film from the Halloween series. But I couldn't walk away now!! I already sat down!!

I didn't care about the kid. Honestly the sheer amount of blood and also the weird way he fell took me out of the scene. I was half like "was this staged by the kid, too?"

Corey was already giving me vibes of an anxious teen who messed up in the past, and like this was the only chance he has to show he's a good guy, and like that was the reason he was panicking so hard in the attic? Anyway, whomp whomp. This is why you don't bully someone with anxiety in a horror film, kid.

Time skip, he gets bullied by some high schoolers and JAMIE LEE CURTIS appears to the rescue! The band kids are mean to her, so maybe they deserve-- just kidding lol. I'll call her Laurie from here on, she offers boyo a knife to fuck up the car. Wahoo.

His hand is messed up and Laurie's granddaughter is a nurse, what can go wrong? Introducing a young woman to a male main character in a horror film has neeeeeever led to predictable and blegh-y deaths ahahahah. But I was wrong in thinking she would be killed for making premarital eye contact, so that's neat.

And then someone makes premarital eye contact with Laurie and I'm like noooo oh he's gonna die too? seriously?? I don't even know this guy. But the writers did not hate me today.

Let's skip, so Corey gets thrown off a bridge because he called out someone's daddy issues and is pulled into some weird... sewer cave? I don't know what it is. I don't think Mikey did it, but I'll get to that. Corey wakes up and gets strangled by Mikey, but then he starts getting flashbacks to the worst day of his life, which I guess is symbolic of his mental break.

ONE LITTLE TANGENT. I hate how horror films villainize the mentally ill. And how apparently being mentally ill gives you superpowers. Maybe I should get evaluated just to see if I can raise a barn on my own. I know someone may scold me like "it's not black and white, there's no ableist messaging inherent to this genre, there is no war in Ba Sing Se", but you are wrong, bye.

Corey gets away but the homeless man I predicted would die jumps him and oh look. He's ~crazy~ too. But I guess he did not receive an official diagnosis because he does not come back to life after being killed. Also, I think maybe this guy is the one who dragged Corey into that place because of his obsession with Mikey, but that's minor.

Corey tells Allison he's a murderer. I was... pleasantly shocked they didn't start making out immediately. But she still stayed with him. And I wasn't fully paying attention because of my reading, but I seriously thought she knew he was doing even more murders, but apparently she... didn't? Even though they were people who inconvenienced her?

Corey meets Allison's ex and then lures him into Mikey's lair. Mikey gets knocked down and Corey yells at him to show him how to kill people. Mikey's like "okay shit" and stabs the guy a few more times than necessary just to make sure Corey understood. I was kinda cheering about boys night because that is exactly what this was.

The boys kill a doctor who was mean to Allison and the woman he's sleeping with, and I was like SERIOUSLY?? MOVIE??? I caught up in the Wikipedia and saw that apparently, the woman got a promotion because she was sleeping with him... but that's still killing a woman for having sex. Oh well. Also, the eye contact between the woman and Corey was weird, I thought, am I missing something here?? Eh.

Laurie confronts Corey, and she's so badass, and I love her so much. Tells him to back the fuck up. He refuses and tells her to go apeshit. OHHH DUDE. You do NOT WANT THAT. She literally vanished, and I was like "TOLD YOU SO BOY". I knew she wasn't gonna kill him right then, but I kept making *teleports behind you* jokes.

Since Corey is a wuss, he calls Allison up because he knows Laurie is gonna get his ass. Allison argues with Laurie that Corey isn't evil, and at this point, I genuinely thought she was gaslighting Laurie because HOW DOES SHE NOT KNOW??? But she truly didn't know that her boyfriend was JD.

Corey shows up at Mikey's hidey hole and they have a silly little tussle. It's so fucking funny. The boys are having a little wrestle! It's so silly. Corey steals Mikey's mask so he can be Mikey (his own mask wasn't cool enough) and kill a bunch of people. His stepdad is collateral damage, and I groaned so hard at his death. That man teleported into the bullet. Had to look away from the yucky ew because I don't trust my unconscious mind with gruesome imagery.

Laurie is amazing she is so cool. Corey tries to get her but she fuckin GETS HIM. She's so fucking badass I love her. Laurie is my bias.

Corey does the "if I can't have her, no one will" again and does a self-stabby to frame Laurie bc he knows he has his official diagnosis and he'll come back to life. In the meantime? Mikey has come to take his mask back. He permanently kills Corey by revoking his blessing (that's what I got from it at least) because no one kills his sister but him!!!

Laurie is fucking GREAT SHE FUCKING YES MAN. The foreshadowing of the exploding microwave and like boom man. I was cheering GET HIM LAURIE GET HIM. He tries to get rid of her hand, she says "no sir I like that hand". She gets his mask off, and he's like "nooo you know how insecure I feel without the mask >:((((". So many knives. I mean so many knives get put into this man. He can fit so many. One is in his hand and he RIPS HIS HAND IN HALF to choke her after she slit his throat. I don't know how effective choking would be with a hand that fucked up but oh well.

"Do it pussy," she says as she's getting flashbacks to every previous movie, and I'm so happy I watched none of them and just this one. It's all I need. Allison comes in and slits his wrist. I was groaning. "Come on, you think that will work? What next? Is the blood gonna start seeping back into his cuts?" But apparently bloodletting keeps him down for a while.

Cops show up, "Micheal" "He's dead" "Not dead enough", THANK YOU ALLISON I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.

There's this big procession of cars, everyone's there. We cut to several faces that would be familiar if I watched anything else in this series. I was like "oh my god it's just like End Game. Everyone's here and I don't care"

BUT GUESS WHAT? THEY THREW MIKEY IN THE SHREDDER!!! No fake outs, no Mikey getting up and murdering an entire town, HE WAS SHREDDED!! YESSSSSSSSSS! BEST MOVIE!!

I was a little bit in doubt. It's a slasher film, after all.

Allison tells Laurie that she believes her that Corey was bad now bc she just watched Heathers and took some notes.

There was a knock on the door or a ring of the doorbell, I don't remember, and I'm like "better not fucking be Corey, he got his privileges revoked".

It wasn't, it was Laurie's boyfriend. Oh yay. That man didn't die.

Okay. My attitude towards death in slasher films? I just like when unimportant characters aren't killed for the sake of it. It pleases me because it subverts my expectations. With films like these, you can only really trust that a character will survive if they are a murderer, which bores me. I like innocent randos living against the odds.

They cut to every room in the house, and I know that it was to show "look at all these rooms that were destroyed, now they are back to normal" but... Laurie... please move. Also I was expecting Mikey in any one of those rooms, but there was only his mask kept as a trophy, I assume. WHAT THE FUCK SHRED THAT, TOO. The continued existence of the mask is sequel bait, I know it's literally called "The End" but I have trust issues.

So? Pros? Okay, loved Corey and Mikey's relationship, it was funny. Just a couple of rowdy boys tussling in the sewer cave. Laurie is my bias. THEY SHREDDED MIKEY!!!!! YESSSSS!!!! Cons? I CAN IGNORE THEM BC THEY SHREDDED MIKEY!!!!

[bobbiworks]

Beyond the Bell's Chimes | Part 46

The air was thick with tension as Jiwoo brooded over the growing awkwardness between her and Eunseok. The school gates, once a place of shared smiles and casual conversation, had become a silent divide. Eunseok's sudden withdrawal left Jiwoo perplexed, and as the days turned into weeks, the gap between them widened.

One day, while Jiwoo was drowning in her thoughts at her desk, her sanctuary was disrupted by the lively entrance of Suyoung. With an infectious energy, Suyoung grabbed Jiwoo and shook her awake, determined to bring life back into her friend.

"Jiwoo! Bestie! It is time for us to party!" Suyoung declared, her enthusiasm in stark contrast to Jiwoo's gloom. However, Suyoung was the only one who could break through Jiwoo's somber mood.

"I don't want to party," Jiwoo groaned, expressing her reluctance. "I want to be buried deep below."

But Suyoung wasn't one to give up easily. "Oh come on! She is going to take us to her family vacation house in Jeju! Just imagine how rich you must be to bring your friends to Jeju? Of course, you must be sooo rich!"

Jiwoo sighed, acknowledging the opulence of Sohee's gesture. "I am sure Sohee will enjoy it."

"Come on. You need to get yourself connected to nature. Maybe, you'll get to feel a new blossoming romance…" Suyoung's words hung in the air, and instantly, Jiwoo's thoughts turned to Eunseok, of all people.

"NOOOO!" Jiwoo screamed, drawing the attention of curious students. Suyoung, surprised by the outburst, couldn't help but grin mischievously as she realized something was up.

"Soooo, what does that even mean, Ms. Shim Jiwoo?" Suyoung whispered to her friend, who had retreated into her shell. Jiwoo's low grumbling only fueled Suyoung's amusement, knowing Jiwoo was embarrassed about something.

"Suyoung," Jiwoo slowly lifted her head, giving her best friend the saddest puppy look. Her voice was tiny, and Suyoung couldn't resist treating her like a baby. This vulnerable side of Jiwoo was rare, and Suyoung savored the moment.

"What is it, baby girl?" Suyoung cooed, fixing Jiwoo's hair.

"I am going to tell you something, but promise not to tell a single soul," Jiwoo said.

"I promise! So that means no Sohee, no Seunghan, no Miyoung unni?"

"Not. A. Soul," Jiwoo warned, setting the stage for a secret that would soon unravel.

...

"Oh my gosh! I did not notice!" Suyoung gasped, her eyes widening in disbelief as Jiwoo spilled the details. Jiwoo, feeling at her wit's end, couldn't endure the situation without confiding in Suyoung. She needed her best friend to understand why she wanted to skip Miyoung's birthday.

"So this person has never talked to you," Suyoung mused. "Even if you are his secretary, he has never spoken to you directly?" Jiwoo nodded. "Indirectly?"

"Not a chance. It's like he doesn't acknowledge my existence at all. It's been weeks, Suyoung!" Jiwoo explained, recounting everything from the day he got sick and stayed at her house to the recent incident when they were attacked by thugs. "I think he's really upset."

"Well, he is how he is," Suyoung sighed. "Maybe he's keeping his distance because he knows you're not happy with him hanging out with you?" She paused, "But even now, that he's not talking to you, you're so bothered by it."

"Yes, yes," Jiwoo nodded.

"Ji, is it maybe… just maybe, you know? Like, like him again?" Suyoung asked, holding Jiwoo's hands. "I know you have a past with Wonbin, but it's been four months. Anything can happen in a month, how much more for your case?"

"It feels wrong," Jiwoo replied.

"What makes you feel wrong?" Suyoung inquired. "You can tell me anything, you know? I won't judge."

"I told Wonbin that if we are destined to be together, fate will do its work," Jiwoo replied, anticipating Suyoung's reaction. Suyoung bit her lips, trying to suppress her discomfort from Jiwoo's words.

"God, that really feels wrong," Suyoung snickered. "I did not know you'd be this hopeless romantic."

"Where was the 'I won't judge you' phrase?" Jiwoo shot back, watching Suyoung burst into laughter. She didn't care if people thought she was crazy or questioned her close friendship with Jiwoo despite their opposite personalities.

"I'm sorry, but come to think Ji. You can't possibly wait for Wonbin forever. You both broke up on good terms," Suyoung explained.

"He is my first love," Jiwoo sulked.

"I read from a book that you will experience three kinds of love in your lifetime." Suyoung held up three fingers. "The first love… obviously, it never dies, but it doesn't mean you're going to be loving that person forever. Perhaps, that kind of love makes you feel young when you remember."

"Second love?" Jiwoo asked, engrossed in Suyoung's words.

"Second love is when you experience the best of all the best and the worst of all the worst," Suyoung replied. "It's like the almost perfect love that could kill you… but in the end, you'll be stronger than ever once you move on." Suyoung said. "The last love? I really want Sohee to be my last love." She sighed.

Jiwoo chuckled, "You sure are so in love." She patted Suyoung's head. "I am happy for you."

"I know," Suyoung grinned. "The last love is your home. Your strength and just… when you see that person, everything just makes sense. You'll withstand everything no matter what it is."

"It sounds beautiful, but can we experience all three though?" Jiwoo asked.

"I'm not sure, but we sure can. I'm sure you'll find the man for you," Suyoung sighed. "Aigoo, my baby is growing up."

"What the hell, I'm older than you," Jiwoo chuckled. "But thanks, Su. But still, I'm not sure what to do with him."

"Him? You mean him him?" Suyoung asked, to which Jiwoo nodded firmly.

"It's so easy! You can do this." Suyoung pulled Jiwoo close to whisper in her ear. Jiwoo's eyes widened in shock, and she playfully hit Suyoung on the shoulders.

"Why would I do that?! No! Never! If he doesn't want to talk to me, then fine. I won't talk to him either," Jiwoo huffed.

...

"Seunghan!" Suyoung shouted as she and Jiwoo walked towards the indoor court where Seunghan and the other boys were engrossed in a game of basketball. Jiwoo was actually hiding behind Suyoung, following her friend's instructions.

Seunghan called for a timeout when he noticed the two girls and sprinted towards them. "Hey! What's up?" he asked, noticing Jiwoo hiding. "Ji? What's wrong?" He immediately moved to reach for her, but Suyoung stopped him.

"Wait! I want to show you something, okay?" Suyoung asked, piquing Seunghan's curiosity. Sohee noticed them talking and joined in. "Sohee! Glad you're here. Jiwoo will show you guys, and I want to see your most natural reaction."

"What is this all about?" Seunghan asked, aware that Suyoung often did weird things, but having Jiwoo involved was a new twist.

"Okay, show them, Ji." Suyoung said, and Jiwoo slowly stepped out from behind her.

Unable to escape Suyoung's plan, Jiwoo had undergone an instant makeover in their classroom. Loose curls adorned her hair, her eyes sparkled with a dreamy pink, and her lips were painted in a matching shade. She looked like an entirely different person.

"Whoa! Amazing!" Sohee clapped, astonished by Suyoung's transformation. "She looks like a different person! It looks good on you, Jiwoo!"

"Thanks," Jiwoo shyly replied, then turned to Seunghan, whose jaw dropped while staring at her completely stunned. Jiwoo blinked, waiting for him to say something, but he was too shocked.

"Thanks, Seunghan!" Suyoung laughed and went to drag Jiwoo away from the court. Seunghan didn't even budge when they left, not until Sohee hit his arm.

"Whoa, wait… What just happened?" Seunghan asked, rubbing his head. Sohee gave him a teasing look. "What?"

"You said you don't have feelings for her?" Sohee laughed. "Damn, you shut down when you saw how pretty she was."

"Shut up." Seunghan pushed him, annoyed. He got exposed, but he couldn't deny the surprise he felt seeing Jiwoo that way. He paused for a bit, covering his red cheeks. He couldn't shake off that image of her from his mind. "Stop it, Seunghan…"

...

"Poor Seunghan," Suyoung sighed, fixing Jiwoo's hair. "He must have recalled his feelings for you again."

"It's funny," Jiwoo said, watching Seunghan's reaction and feeling a twinge of sympathy for embarrassing him.

"Seriously, boys will be boys. That's how you tell if someone likes you or not," Suyoung explained, sensing the need to share more wisdom with Jiwoo before they finished high school. "Come on, let's go."

"Where are we going?" Jiwoo asked, but Suyoung continued to drag her to various places until they stopped by the auditorium where classical music players were rehearsing. "What are we doing here?"

"Eunseok's here," Suyoung revealed, knowing that Eunseok managed the musical club alongside Miyoung. "For someone whose parents are classical music enthusiasts, Eunseok has to manage the musical club just like his brothers did before."

"Are you forgetting something?" Jiwoo whispered. "Your cousin is here too!"

"Of course, I am here." The two girls stood frozen as they heard Anton's soft voice from behind. "Nobodies aren't allowed here, except Jiwoo-noona."

"Excuse me? I am not a nobody," Suyoung snapped, but Anton completely ignored her and went on to flash a smile at Jiwoo as he held her hand.

"Are you here to watch me play?" Anton asked, his voice soft when speaking to Jiwoo. He seemed to erase everything around him whenever Jiwoo was near.

"N-No, actually," Jiwoo stammered, but it didn't affect Anton at all as he started pulling her towards the stage. Eunseok, seated in the front row, heard the commotion upstairs, saw Suyoung following Anton, who was pulling Jiwoo. He had to do a double take to see Jiwoo. She looked so different, but then he remembered—she did not want to be bothered by him.

"Aren't you going to do something?" Miyoung asked, but Eunseok ignored her, pretending to focus on the musical sheets. She sighed and went to greet their friends. "Hello, what brings you girls here?"

"My girlfriend's watching me practice," Anton replied, but Miyoung, familiar with him through Suyoung, didn't believe a word he said.

"Well, Anton, why don't you go to your seat and get ready?" Miyoung suggested, but Anton stayed put, holding Jiwoo's hand more firmly.

"You must be kidding me," Anton scoffed with a smirk. "You didn't even check if I'm part of this piece."

"Anton, watch your language," Jiwoo snapped, disliking how Anton spoke to her friends or anyone else.

"It's okay, Jiwoo," Miyoung smiled, though it only fueled Jiwoo's anger.

"I'm sorry, unni," Jiwoo dipped her head, and Eunseok, standing from his seat, considered getting in between them, but instead, he walked the other way as if he hadn't seen them. Jiwoo sighed, tugging on Anton's hand this time. "You. Follow me."

"Ji…" Suyoung tried to stop her, but Jiwoo knew it would only annoy Anton if Suyoung joined them.

"It's fine. He listens to me more than he listens to anyone here," Jiwoo said in defeat, even glaring at Anton, who smiled sheepishly behind her. "Come on, Lee Chanyoung."

...

Eyes were fixated on Jiwoo as she dragged Anton down the hallway. Anton, the most popular student in the school, was known for his looks, intelligence, talent, athleticism, and impressive background. Jiwoo couldn't fathom why he would mention her as a reason for transferring to this school. People had started talking about her since Anton spoke of her all the time.

"Ji!" Seunghan, returning from playing, spotted them, but Jiwoo signaled for him to stay back. Despite appearing like an angel with her makeup, Jiwoo was furious.

Jiwoo led Anton to a quiet spot by the garden beds. She tried to release her hand, but Anton held on.

"Anton, please," Jiwoo sighed in defeat. "I want us to talk properly this time. You know I hate the attention."

"I know," Anton nodded, his voice returning to normal.

"Why do you hate Suyoung so much? She's your cousin," Jiwoo inquired, wanting to address the underlying tension between Suyoung and Anton.

"The fact that she is my cousin makes me hate her," Anton replied, leaving Jiwoo certain there was more to the story.

"Fine. That's personal," Jiwoo conceded. "Why me? Why do you like me so much?" Embarrassment filled Jiwoo as she asked, but she was growing tired of Anton's antics, which only fueled the hate she received from others. She had enough problems last year, and this year, she just wanted to get through it.

"Because you are real," Anton replied.

"If I am real, what about the others?" She questioned. "And what about you? You only talk normally when you are with me but completely different when you are talking with others."

"I don't really care about the others," he admitted. "I grew up focusing on achieving that goal. I don't care how many will get hurt; I want to win."

"This is not a sport, Anton," Jiwoo sighed. "I know you are a good kid, but please," She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. Anton seemed to have only received criticisms in his life and compliments when he achieved something. "Take it slow, okay?"

Anton remained silent before he let out a deep sigh and stepped towards her, resting his head on her shoulder. "Jiwoo-noona, I'm sorry," he said.

"It's okay; let's do better next time, okay?" Jiwoo asked, patting his head.

"Go out with me," Anton boldly proposed. Jiwoo couldn't predict his thought process, but she knew he was very assertive. "I want you to know me more."

"I'm not planning on dating anyone right now," Jiwoo explained. "I'm sorry."

"You go out with Seunghan-hyung, too," Anton argued. "So, why can't we do that too?"

"Seunghan's my best friend; of course, I hang out with him. Going out means something different, Anton," she clarified, but his facial expression remained stiff. "Anton?"

"Hmm, how about after school?" Anton asked, eager to spend more time with Jiwoo. He didn't want to go home that day; being with her was more enticing. Jiwoo had allowed him to hang out with her, repeatedly clarifying that they were not dating. Nonetheless, it amused him to see her reactions. However, Anton found it challenging to express his emotions fully. His responses ranged from sarcasm to feigned niceness or appearing emotionless.

"I have to work after school," Jiwoo replied.

"I can hang out at the cafe," he suggested, a faint smile appearing on his face. Jiwoo noticed it, and Anton, realizing her observation, quickly reverted to a frown. "What?"

"You smiled," she pointed out.

"I always smile," Anton retorted, but Jiwoo shook her head dismissively and patted his cheek, a gesture that indicated he did well when he smiled like that. "It was just a small one."

"Maybe you can make a bigger one next time," she suggested with a smile. It was something Jiwoo naturally did. Since their first meeting, Jiwoo had been inherently kind and funny. She judged people based on their actions and personality rather than their appearance. It was a stark contrast to where Anton came from, where people interacted with him to ride on his success. His parents, proud and beloved, influenced his upbringing. Wanting to emulate them, Anton followed their example.

[stardustandtwilight]

I was tagged by @nejires-hado - thank you!! :D

What is your absolute all-time favorite idea you’ve ever had?

I don't think I can pick an absolute favorite, but one of them is my HP OC Elena fully hanging out with doggo!Sirius for months during the PoA events before she connects the dots and she's like 'holy shit that's not just a random stray dog'

Ooh, and also with PoA events, Emily and Lucius Malfoy having a little showdown after Emily's been questioned by the Ministry about Sirius's whereabouts and she calls Malfoy out on his bullshit.

Is there a question you’ve been asked in the past that really stands out to you and you still think about sometimes?

Hmm...not that I can think of

What is your favorite part of being a writer? Which parts could you take or leave?

I think my favorite part about writing fanfiction in particular is being able to play around with my favorite characters and not have to rely on the original authors to give me more. As far as what I would leave, I wish I could get rid of the part of my brain that gets anxious about getting validation (reviews/kudos/etc). I'd also like to leave behind the imposter syndrome.

What is your greatest motivation to write/create?

I'm not sure I can pinpoint one single motivation - as long as I can remember, I've just been telling stories to myself in my head and then one day I discovered that I could write them down.

What do you wish you knew when you were first starting out writing?

For the love of god, DO NOT use those stupid Mary-Sue litmus tests! Mary-Sues are fine, actually. Just don't worry about it!!

What is your favorite story you’ve written TO COMPLETION? Link it if you’d like and can!

Unfortunately, I've never finished a fic. 😩 But I really want to!!

What is your favorite out-of-the-box quote?

(from a modern AU PotC fic) "...are we seriously having a deep, philosophical conversation in the condom aisle?"

Which of your characters would you say has the most controversial mindset? Why do you say so and how do you personally feel about their ideals?

Mark Thompson (an OC from my main Twilight fic), simply because he's an abusive asshole and thinks he hasn't done anything wrong. I think if he had swallowed his pride and gotten therapy, it wouldn't have turned out so bad, but noooo. He had do it the hard way and screw up his life, and his wife and daughter's lives. He is, however, rather fun to write.

If you, when you first started writing, met you now, what would younger you think?

15 year old me: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU NEVER FINISHED EMILY, SIRIUS, AND ELENA'S STORY??

32 year old me: ...😅 look, on the bright side, you haven't given up on the idea and you're still doing what you love as an adult? Also, stop looking at those Mary-Sue litmus tests because they're bullshit

I tag: @jessicanjpa and @edwardskhakipants and whoever else feels like doing this :D

[jeanjauthor]

You know, I honestly thought I didn't have any connection to anyone who was modern-day Mohawk, just a vague link to a great-plus grandmother in the distant past...until today.

Because that's how I feel, too.

When I got my first official book contract, my editor Cindy wanted to ask if I was okay with not getting any royalties from the Library for the Blind audiobooks that might be made from my novels. (Specifically as library-loanable audio books that could be sent out on cassettes with a cassette player, or on CDs with a loanable CD player, etc, etc.)

Cindy said this with a tone that said she was hesitant to broach the subject, but it was clear it was not one of the most negotiable parts of the contract, and she stood ready to defend it.

I, however, immedately told her, "Oh, I'm perfectly fine with that, you don't have to explain it!"

Surprised, she said, "Oh?"

And I replied, "I saw for myself how valuable books-on-tape from the LIbrary for the Blind were to my grandmother, in the last years of her life when macular degeneration had wrecked her ability to read anything but the shortest of writings. It came on late in her life, so she never learned to read braille, so that was how she could still enjoy books, and old radio programs from her youth that someone had recorded and transcribed to cassette tapes.

"She looked forward to a new shipment of those audiobook versions and those archived broadcasts every single week. I am not going to block that kind of joy from people who want to check out my books from the library in a version they can actually access. On the other hand, audiobooks for the general public..."

"Oh, we definitely charge for those," Cindy agreed. "Though you'd have to do a massive number of book sales to justify the expence. The Library for the Blind folks pay for their own narrators out of like, donations and national grants and such, so it's not an expense we have to bear."

So that was that, on the publisher's end. When I took that very first contract to a lawyer who had a passing understanding of book contracts (actually kinda rare to find in the Seattle region), he didn't like that particular part of the contract, since it was basically robbing me of money as it meant I'd get no royalties...until I explained that I was fine with it, and why I was fine with it. And he realized that he had seen his friend's grandfather listening to books-on-tape, too.

So that's a connection I now have to a Mohawk (Kanienkehaka) librarian here in the modern day.

...I also want to point out that this attitude applies to comic books and webcomic stories, too. I was genuinely hurt by my parents actively discouraging me from checking out comic books from the public library. It was a story, too! But noooo, comic books were "...for losers who couldn't read! You aren't going to be a loser, are you??" (I want to clarify that this was NOT their exact words, but rather the impression their actions & attitudes left on me.)

(Aside from the parental Disapproval™ & discouragement, the other reason why I gave up on trying to read library copies was that the comic books were incredibly fragile and flimsy, and the stapled-on covers were easily separated from the main story pages, etc, so...finding an intact comic book at the library was a bit difficult.)

Anyway, this was how I grew up, until I realized my parents were wrong, and that comic book stories could be pretty damn great, actually. And now that we have access to webcomics, which included translated manga / manhwa / manhua (spelling variations, lol) from countries in Asia, stories that are incredibly good (as well as meh or worse ones), it's even more important for me, a fellow author, to speak up on their behalf, too.

Different ways of telling a story are all legitimate. There are things you can do in a novel that you cannot do in a movie, and vice versa. Things you can do with an audio book that are different from a graphic novel. Things in a live storytelling that you can get away with (adapting your presentation on the fly to keep your audience engaged) that you cannot do when it's supplied in a pre-recorded medium, and vice-versa (keeping the original story version intact & unchanged to preserve the original storytelling intentions).

They're all legit.

[txmxkis]

Rinii, what do you think kuroo would say or react when reader starts feeling self-conscious about readers body, like if reader asks "am i getting fatter" or "do you think im fat?"

ohhhhhh i did not plan to do this but this is something that is so personal to me

warnings. gn!reader, fluffy and probably cheesy as always, chubby!reader is implied but i tried to keep it as inclusive as possible, reader is insecure. again, apparently i can only write self indulgent things my bad

you were supposed to be ready to leave the apartment half an hour ago. you weren't usually one to be late to anything, in fact it made you incredibly anxious when you were. however, today your insecurity outweighed your need to be punctual, and you just couldn't leave while looking like this.

actually, today you couldn't leave looking like anything. pieces of clothing lay strewn across the room, hangers discarded on the floor next to the closet. you had tried on every single one, and still there were none that looked flattering on you.

"oi! are you ready yet? i mean, take your time 'n everything, but technically we're late."

kuroo's voice calling from the other room pulls you out of your thoughts momentarily. he never rushes you, which is something you appreciate greatly. it helps that he knows you well enough to know that you would never be late without good reason.

"is there something i can help with orrrr?"

you could hear his voice getting closer and you really didn't want him to see you in this state right now.

he pokes his head past the doorframe and makes a noise of astonishment.

"a tornado go through here while i was gone or somethin'? or are you just trying to spontaneously reorganize things again."

you roll your eyes at that second thing.

"noooo, i just can't decide what to wear. nothing looks good on me today."

he's standing fully in the doorway now, hands in his pockets as he raises an eyebrow and looks you up and down.

"then wear nothing, it looks great on you."

he smirks and you make a futile attempt not to crack a smile as you feel your face start to burn. suddenly you're even more self conscious, so you grab the nearest piece of clothing to hold in front of you.

"tetsurou, i'm being serious! we needed to leave like forty minutes ago and i can't wear any of these clothes without looking-"

you stop yourself just before you could say fat. you hate giving the word a negative connotation. there's nothing wrong with being fat, nothing that should make you feel like this, anyway. like you wanted to crawl out of your skin. usually you were pretty neutral about your body, on very rare occasions could even love things about it. sometimes, it all catches up to you, though.

all the whispers in your head that come from no one but yourself, degrading you and making you feel worthless because of how you look. logically, you know those thoughts are complete and utter bullshit, but it's so hard to continuously fight against them. today, you're slipping a little.

"i know exactly what you're thinking over there. something about your clothes not fitting quite right and that somehow it makes you unloveable."

you don't even have time to pretend to be shocked that he knows you so well before he just keeps on going.

"well i've got news for you, babe, i've never seen you manage to look bad. i actually think it's impossible for you or something."

for a few moments too long, you just stand there gaping at him. he takes that as his cue to walk towards you, remove the sweater that you've been using as a shield, and toss it off to the side.

"there. better."

you finally snap out of it and smack him on the arm, but before you can pull away, he catches your wrist. he brings it up to his lips slowly, and kisses right where your pulse is probably hammering away at the moment, locking eyes with you as he does.

how are you ever supposed to argue with him if he keeps stunning you into silence?

"i don't think you'll ever understand how much i love you, doesn't matter if you change physically or not. and it doesn't matter what you wear either, so can you pleaseeee put on something so we can go. we both know you'll look perfect in anything."

"ugh, fine! but you get to help me pick."

he rubs his hands together with a devious grin, and you know he'll be grabbing the most revealing thing he can find. you know him well, too, after all.

"something appropriate."

"awww, damn."

[sanjisblackasswife]

“MMAHMB” Luffy x Black!Fem Reader (FLUFF)

I got this idea from reddit

Bad Summary: For the past 6 months Luffy has been telling you 6 letters everyday wanting you to figure out what it means and it’s been driving you crazy

CW: Just cheesy fluff fr, a kiss ig, Reader is Mentioned to Have Locs

“Man?”

“No.”

“Mom?”

“No.”

“Make?”

“No!”

“Well i dont know Luffy gimme a hint!”

You both got lost in the jungle the crew decided to scope around and while searching for a clear path to follow Luffy called you over to see what he carved in the tree and it was a poorly worded

MMAHMB

Right on the bark, you look to see his happy go lucky smile and ask the same daily question,

“What does it mean.”

“Guess!”

“I CAN’T—!”

You have tried to come up with every possible word but the only one you’ve guessed right was “me” but that wasn’t the first word.

“Can i get a clue.”

“No.”

It was like a never ending game of hanged man, except no confirmation that you are right or wrong or close to the answer.

At one point you’ve asked for help but it made Luffy so whiney and upset so nobody tries to give you aid in your time of need.

“Give up?” Luffy teased now wrapping himself on your back as you walked, luckily he was always light as a feather so carrying him was never an issue with him holding onto you like a Koala.

“It’s been MONTHS Luffy of course i give up!” Your shrug your arms out groaning in mental exhaustion from your menacing boyfriend, he just giggles to kiss your cheek before pointing forward

“Okay fine! You suck at riddles Y/N..”

“Shut up and tell me!”

He lets out an airy chuckle and stares off for a moment in thought as you kept walking as Luffy played in your locs, you can feel him twirl it and even put one on his lip like a mustache making your lip curl into a grin,

“You should show me sometime how you got your hair like this i like it alot….so soft—“

“Luffy tell me what the letter mean bro.”

“OH RIGHT HEHEHEHE!”

He lets go of your hair to grab your cheeks, his slightly dry lips right on your ear to.

“PSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPPSPSPSPSPSPST!”

“EW! WHAT?!” You swat his hands away and rub your now drool filled ear, “Luffy you play too damn much!”

“Hahahahaa! Okay okay! Fineeeee.”

Doing attempt 2, you felt reluctant, but you still leaned into his touch, his hand now covering your opposite ear and other hand cupping your other, he breathes are slightly shaky, possibly from excitement.

“You ready?” His tone a little more sincere and genuine, you nod impatiently, “okay…”

“Y/n…”

“Oh look we’re here! We found a path!”

Almost as if someone robbed you of seeing the One Piece, your heart sank and in an instant you got a headache. You felt Luffy’s bodyweight off of your back, but you couldn’t even look at him. You just held your face, nearly about to crouch down.

“Hey…what’s wrong you hurt?” Luffy tilted his head and tugged your arm to show your eyes.

“Noooo Luffyyy.” You pouted, “tell meeee what the letters meeeeeaannnuhhh?”

Luffy’s slight frown turned into laughter as he wrapped his arm around you to hold you on his side and run to the nearest tree.

You were so defeated and annoyed you just laid there practically dead on his side with the most irritated look on your face, of course Luffy didn’t care he was too busy carving…

MMAHMB

“Marry.” Luffy had his finger on the first word and looked at you,, he wasn’t necessarily smiling, but he had a very hopeful look on his face.

“Me.” He pointed at the next letter and with each word your eyes grew bigger.

“And.”

“Have.”

“My.”

“Babies.”

It took you a moment to register what he said,

“…marry me and have my babies…”

“No! Marry ME and have MY babies, y/n!”

You were dumbfounded. Clearly these past 6 months he haven’t been trying to,

“…are you proposing to me?”

“Well.” He said helping you stand you back up, brushing your clothes that have seemed to been dirtied by leaves while running, “kinda. We can’t get married now but this is my promise to you!—

“You will marry me and have my babies!”

You felt your heart and face warm, he was so confident and proud to finally reveal his little secret to you you started to blank out on his rambling.

“…and you should have all boys! When im pirate king I want an all boy crew to teach! Not that i don’t want any girls, I do like you, Robin, and Nami—-“

“Luffy!” You snapped him out of his thoughts as you touched the poorly carved tree. “You mean that?”

“Duh, why would i lie.”

You smile at his shrug, grabbing his neck you kiss this boy, making him smile. He grew to adorn your kisses, he grew to adorn you, which is why he knew and meant what he said,

“I love you, Luffy.” You mumble on his lips getting another laugh out of him before he throw his hag on you.

It was such a weird yet cute way for him to propose, you never really had many romantic moments like this with Luffy, he just isn’t a romantic guy, he does things out of impulse and what he thinks is right and you knew that so you wasn’t too surprised this was how he would profess his love to you, so what can you expect from a guy like him.

He’s Luffy.

And he loves you.

[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

[moonsplit]

HIIIIIIIIIIIIII

i was wondering if i could request some fluffy or angsty toh hunter×gn!bard!reader headcannons.

that's the overall request, but if i can get a little specific, i would like if you'd include something about the reader being an actual half witch half human, maybe they get angry/sad because everyone uses the term half-a-witch as if it's something to be ashamed of being.

seeing hunter being so appreciative of willow in for the future made me get back into my hunter brainrot and honestly your fluffy hunter hcs were one of the only good hunter×reader work i could find here, i got SO SAD when i realized that was the only work you had published, so here i am, begging for more.

anyway, thx byeeeeee!

↠ "Half-a-witch, huh?" ↞

* pairing ↠ TOH - Hunter x gn!bard!reader * word count ↠ 881 * tags ↠ fluff, soft angst,

* notes ↠ This is the biggest compliment ever omg!! Thank you anon :D

You had a rough time growing up, hearing everyone use what you were as an insult

"Half-a-witch" this and "half-a-witch" that

It wasn't fun having everyone berate and doubt you for it either

People with better intentions would praise you for basic spells

Things you learned in grade school

Even if it did take you a bit longer to learn, they didn't have to treat you as if your existence was weird and wrong

Joining the bard track at Hexside was a choice you'd never regret, but some days people would get insufferable

As if using an instrument was "easier" than spell circles and didn't take even more training and practice just to get right

But noooo, the only thing easier than the bard track was potions, clearly

Meeting Hunter for the first time was certainly.. an experience

Why was this guy camping out at school?

The Boiling Isles was unique, sure, but as far as you knew there weren't many people living in the hidden areas of school

He stumbled over his introduction before running off, you chasing after him

Through a series of convoluted events, you got wrapped up in everything

It started with Hunter, you bringing him snacks and trying to pry any information from this weirdo you could

But, well, the whole school got covered in illusions

You managed to run into him and Gus, the three of you joining forces

Music was useful after all, while Gus could see through the illusion, you could use what was essentially echolocation

The panic attack he had.. wait-

He was the freaking golden guard??

Okay, okay, more important things to think about

But still, pretty important revelation that you're definitely gonna ask about later

And.. the day of unity? It was a sham?

You learned so much in the past day it was hard to digest

You went home, sulking into the familiarity of your bed

And the next day, or, next few days- leading up to the day, you joined the CATS, and their plans-

You were too deep, even if you didn't want to help, which you did, you also probably had a target on your back from being seen with Hunter

When the day came, you were shaken to your core

Everything was happening so fast, so many people to their knees-

Not to mention you were in the freaking human realm

You had been told by your mom that she managed to wander through a door, getting trapped in the demon realm

So you'd only ever heard stories of rain that was cold, the lack of magic..

You had always wanted to see it, your other parent had too- but the two of you only ever got stories from your mom

The victory of it was overshadowed by the fear

Everyone was badly injured, only one of you had been here before, and oh yeah, let's not forget to mention, you had no way of knowing what happened after you left!

It was high tensions for everyone

You spent the months growing close to the group, particularly Hunter

He was the first person you had made your friend, it was only natural you gravitated towards him

You ended up spilling your life's story to him, just a smidge

He listened as you told him about your parents, a brief complaint about "half-a-witch" sending him into a rant

"That insult is stupid, you have some of the most unique bard magic I've seen despite being half human! Luz beat me in a duel with her glyphs, and she's not even half witch, Willow's plant magic is seriously powerful, even-"

He cut himself off, faltering and putting his hands back in his lap. "Sorry."

He shook his head, when you tried to get him to keep going. Well, that was alright- baby steps, I guess.

"You think my technique is unique?"

"It's similar to old wild magic, your spell circles- were they plant or construction? They could both be useful with bard magic now that I think about it..." he trailed off, mumbling as he tried to work it out in his head.

"You saw those? I thought I was subtle! They were so tiny too,"

"It's my job to be observant, I'm the Golden Gua-"

It went silent

Hunter fiddled with his hands and shirt.

You put a hand over his own, causing him to flinch harder than you had seen someone flinch before and push your hand away

"It's okay, it takes time."

"How long is this going to go on? I can't take it."

Neither of you had an answer, of course.

Sure, you guys were safe- relatively, at least

But you couldn't stay in the human realm with no way back

And neither of you had gone through what Hunter was going through

You didn't even know the full extent of it

You spoke up after a few moments of pure silence, save for breathing

"I don't know, but I'll stay by your side. If you'll let me."

"I think I'd like that. Is that weird? That feels weird?"

"Nah, I think Luz made a bet on it though."

"A bet on what?"

You shrugged. "Who knows? It's Luz."

If you could capture the snicker that came from him for eternity, you would.

[bowieandqueen11]

Looking After A Sick Roman Roy Headcanons

Request: hey there! could you please write hcs/a fic (whatever you prefer) where roman is sick and reader takes care of him? your dating hcs about him give me life crying and sobbing, sobbing and crying

Darling noooo thank you I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you cry :’( Anyway here’s some more of our favourite rat boy he’s so sad to write for I love him

(I do not own Succession or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @gerri-roman.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

I’m honestly really torn between Roman being both a whiny boy, and becoming extremely introverted and retreating back into his shell when he’s feeling sick. It’s a sorrowful mixture of him both needing and craving some kind of attention, someone to just be fond of him for once in his life and fear. The kind that makes it difficult for him to ask for someone to care for him without hearing the voice of his father ringing in the back of his head, taunting and scolding him for being weak and unmanly. In that same vein, he’ll call you up to come over, but then acts aloof and bratty because he’s too afraid he’ll get the wrong kind of attention. 

He’s just always waiting now for that kick.

You have to guide him past all the mocking, and crude jokes to actually make him feel warm, and comfortable, and safe. You have to, because I genuinely in my heart don’t think he’s properly capable of taking care of himself. He was never taught to. His parents only bothered with him when they could take something from him.

I mean, he’s spent his whole life being told he was sick by the people who were supposed to love him most, so he always feels like he deserves it, that it’s only right that he’s physically sick too.

When you walk through the door into his apartment, you have to try and gently shove him off because he immediately prowls over and tries to drape himself over you any position he can. By the time you manage to shrug off your coat and hang it up on the rack, he’s already slinked off to roll up into a ball on the sofa. He’s a pitiful sight, with his head tucked on top of his knees and arms wrapped tightly around the Prussian blue dress shirt he’s still wearing, albeit crumpled. He’s sniffling, and you can’t tell if he’s caught a cold, or if the red-rimmed eyes also mean he’s been sitting here, alone and crying.

You call Connor straight away, excusing yourself to his second bathroom for a minute, just hoping for some expert advice from the older brother. He had to think for a moment, but in the end he finally manages to mumble out that when Roman was feeling a bit down when he was younger, that he used to stay up with him all night and try to get him to eat something.

‘Just-just don’t leave him. Please. He doesn’t do well on his own. Thanks Y/n.’

When you come out, he tries to play it off. ‘It’s just a stomach thing, no biggie’, he mumbles out from behind his knees. Yet you refuse to take that for an answer, instead scooting him over on the sofa to plonk down beside him. When your knee bumps against his thigh, he tenses, but finally looks up at you from his little burrow with wide, tired, anguished eyes.

I think he would take great comfort in being all moochy as he lays his head down on your lap with a body wracking sigh. He shuffles, until his ear rests between your thighs, and as he closes his eyes he pretends that no - this isn’t intimate, it doesn’t feel nice, he doesn’t need this - until you start playing with the loose fringes of his hair. He has to swallow down the natural instinct to swat your hand away, instead just trying to relax his hunched shoulders and focus on how his spine shivers every time your finger nails graze his scalp. He wishes he could stay in this tender moment forever, even if he believes he’s playing it cool.

You pretend not to hear the little whimper that escapes from the back of his throat.

Don’t tell him in the morning because he’ll just guffaw at you, but he does manage to fall asleep against you, if only for half an hour of bliss. He rolls over so his eyelids are facing you at some point, and it nearly leaves you breathless when he seeks out your fingers in his sleep and entangles them, resting them under his chin. For the first time in a while, he looks peaceful. No worry lines clouding his forehead, no scowl sitting on his face, no biting his bottom lip or worrying about being perceived as a fool. He feels sheltered, secure, and you can tell. 

For once, he looks like any other guy. Just resting in the arms of the one person he actually has truly trusted, and loved, during his 34 years on this earth. He sleeps past daybreak for the first time since he was ten years old, and his father made him wake up and help set the breakfast table every day for a year, in punishment for squirting him with that water pistol.

The next day, you even manage to drag him into the bedroom to rest and recuperate. He’s still so sleepy, though, that you have to help him unbutton his shirt and change into his white pyjama top. The whole time he just keeps staring at you with a twitch on his lips, a soft smile daring to grace his sweet face. He glances down languidly at his feet any time you try to catch him in the act, in an almost embarrassed display.

I mean of course he has a spare set of clothes kept here for you to change into as well.

When he tumbles face first into the bed, you take the opportunity to go and try to heat up some chicken soup in his intricate looking kitchen.

‘Can you put spaghetti in it?’ you hear him shout from the bed. ‘Mum used to break up noodles and put it in canned soup when we were kids.’

You don’t fail to miss the mumbled ‘and when she was home.’

You don’t now whether to laugh, or break down crying when you re-enter the room and see him sitting at the edge of the bed with the duvet wrapped tightly around his head, watching old cartoons from the television secured against the far wall.

Let’s be real you have to feed it to him spoonful by spoonful. Any time you start to move, whether it’s to go pour him a cup of water, or to put down the spoon and bowl on the bedside cabinet, he starts winging and making fistful, grabby hands with a mockful expression. ‘No, no no, you have to stay’, or ‘I’m sick, you’re supposed to look after me’, is all you hear as he collapses down on the sheet dramatically in a cloud of duvet and blankets.

You know deep down that he’s only pretending to be annoying. In truth, he really does feel better when he’s in your company, but he’s been scorned and ridiculed his whole life for admitting such feelings. They’re so repressed, he only knows how to express what Roman Roy truly does feel through his own humorous brand of scorn, too much like his father and yet so little as well.

He does annoy you by making you fluff the bed pillows about a thousand times, though.

I feel like he’d get more affectionate when he’s ill? Kind of like he finally realises he’s hidden away from the world and can let loose a little. It surprises you when you jump under the duvet next to him, and he snuggles down into your side. He allows his head to droop down onto your shoulder, and just when you think he’s drifting off again, you feel him lean over and press a slow kiss against your shoulder blade. He does it so tenderly it feels like a drop of rain falling against your skin, yet it’s so unnatural it burns like fire as well.

I mean he’s still Roman Roy though, so he gets antsy and bored after a couple of days. To try and cheep him up, you play kids games around the apartment with him. Things like hide and seek, where you finally find him folded and squished in the bottom of his wardrobe, and he’s giggling like a mad hyena with his hands covering his eyes when you open the door. Or indoor bowling, with empty loo rolls and oranges, and he hops on your back like a little whooping frog when he gets a strike.

Let’s be real is he really sick or is he just using it as an excuse to spend time with you away from the watchful eyes of his family and the stress of the company-

Roman doesn’t want his family to know that he’s ill, but they find out from Connor anyway. Kendall comes to visit him with a cup of broth he picked up from his favourite café. Shiv sends a basketful of muffins. Even Marcia asks an assistant to write him a well wishing card. Logan doesn’t bother.

Touching on his mummy issues again whoop whoop, I think the only way he would be able to restfully sleep is if you read to him. The book choice doesn’t matter, but he likes to rest against your chest and move between gazing up at you with all the stars in the skies hidden in his eyes and back down to the bed, trying to wish away the tears that burn his eyes and stop himself from crying.

When he finally feels better and goes back to work, he goes back to his usual ways, but you can see an extra twinkle in his smile that he reserves just for you in the hallway. One step at a time to finally becoming a functioning human being, eh?

[astaroth1357]

Brothers Accidentally Make the MC Cry

Hello, this is the obligatory italics blurb that I have to put under my titles or else things look weird and it bothers me. Don’t mind the blurb. The blurb is a friend. (Though I could start writing pieces of a little story up here just to see if anyone even reads them… Hm…. Ideas, ideas...)

Warning: Angsty

Lucifer 

If he were being honest, he’d say that a part of him had always feared this would happen...

Lucifer likes to tell himself that he’s invincible, but everyday stresses can get to him just like anybody else. And like other people, he may not always act his best when he’s dealing with a full plate…

The MC hadn’t meant to make his day harder when they told him that they accidentally broke a lamp. It was a genuine accident! But Lucifer was still dealing with the fallout from another one of Mammon’s failed schemes, Satan had cursed all of his ties again, and Beel had eaten every scrap of food in the House… for the second time that week...

In comparison to everything else, a broken lamp was quite minor, but for Lucifer it was just the last straw and, for just a moment, he lost control…

His palm slamming against his desk hard enough to snap its legs and send it crashing to the ground. He scarcely knew what kind of look he had on his face, but whatever it was, he had made his human jump back in shock...

Really, it was silly for them to assume that he had gotten that upset over a lamp, but he saw tears starting to gather in their eyes all the same as they stammered out a quiet apology… 

It felt like an ice spike to the heart. Damn his temper… He really ought to have been more careful with them after… well, everything he’d done before…

He was quick to go over to them, catching their face with his hand and giving them the most sincere apology he could muster while wiping away their tears… Overreactions aren’t becoming of him and he hated to cause them pain… 

He, of course, took care of the lamp himself as penance and on the surface that seemed to be it (but to anyone paying attention, he had softened up on the MC considerably for at least a week. They probably could have sworn in front of Diavolo and he’d let it slide, he felt that bad about it...)

“I’m sorry, MC, I shouldn't have reacted like that… You haven’t done anything wrong, I promise… Please, there’s no need to cry…”

Mammon

Oh? What's that? His heart is now in a million pieces now...? Well, that seems fair…

He and the MC were out on one of his gambling nights and he was actually on a killer winning streak for once! Jackpots around every corner, he was rolling in it!

The MC had tried to convince him to just throw in the towel early, take his winnings while he had them and bail, but he wasn’t hearing any of it.

In hindsight, their insistence must have really shown how much the MC cared about him and wanted him to keep his earnings... but in the heat of the moment all he saw was someone trying to spoil his one night of fun.

To be fair to Mammon, it’s rather rare for him to lose control of his anger like he did. But when they tried to pull him away from the roulette table, he genuinely snarled at them and told them to get lost...!

Fortunately, he regretted his actions immediately after he saw the hurt in their eyes…

If their goal had been to get him to step away from the table, they achieved it. But only because he got up to pull them into a hug while stammering out apologies… Watching them actually shed tears hurt worse than any rope Lucifer had ever tied around him...

He spent the rest of the night away from the casino and trying to cheer up his human like his life depended on it... Seeing them in pain just tore him up that much.

"Ah, come on MC… I'm sorry, honest…! Please don't look at me like that, I'll do whatever ya want okay...? Just no more cryin…"

Leviathan 

Now thinks he's the worst, literally the worst. Lower than lesser demon spit. Lower than Cerberus' shit. Lower than… well, you get the idea…

Levi can get very… intense when things involving his passions are brought up. This can be a fairly endearing quality… but it also means he gets disproportionately impassioned about seemingly minor things.

Levi ended up snapping at the MC when they let him over-sleep one day. This wasn’t unusual for them to do as Levi’s sleep schedule was notoriously shitty, but they shouldn't have done it that particular day…

An item he wanted on Akuzon was going to go live that morning and he had to be awake to participate in the bidding. He had mentioned it to the MC the day before, but he blew past it so quickly they didn’t actually remember…

He found out that he missed the bidding after he woke up and he was pissed. Genuinely enraged that they didn’t remember to wake him up to the point that he was shouting and baring his fangs! 

… Really it was not a good look and he should have known better.

The look of fear and the tears gathering in the MC’s eyes snapped him out of it like a hard slap to the face, and somehow, it stung even more than that would’ve... It wasn’t long before he was crying along with them, practically begging for forgiveness...

He made it up to them by having a private showing of their favorite movie using a projector in the Planetarium, cuddling with them under a blanket while still, occasionally, muttering apologies under his breath.

“M-MC…? MC don’t cry…!! Please don’t cry, I- I’m sorry!! I… MC… I’m so sorry…”

Satan

Like Lucifer, he always worried this would happen and he hated when it finally came to pass…

He’d spent all his life learning how to restrain his temper, but it’s not a perfect science. There are the occasional times where the heat of the moment gets the better of him and he does something he regrets…

The MC had walked in on him one morning while he was fuming about Beel leaving the fridge empty again. It hadn’t been the first time they’d seen him like this, but this time he was absolutely furious.

He had told Beel again and again and again to get his snacking under control or to, you know, get up early and get more food so the whole family wouldn’t spend the morning starving but noooo! Mr. I’m Hungry never thinks about anything but his own stomach and then leaves whoever’s on kitchen duty to pick up the slack like some dimwitted muscle-bound meathead and THEN-!!

When the MC tried to take his arm to calm him down, he jerked their hand away from him and roared right in their face. He may not be a lion, but the full sound of a pissed off demon could make humans have breakdowns all on its own…

Which was more or less what the MC began to do as he gripped their wrist, panicking while taking shallow, stuttered breaths…

Satan's anger left him swiftly and he let them go, only reaching out to touch them again when he tried to wipe the tears from their cheeks… He had to coo and beg for them to calm down, which was only so successful because he was fighting back tears himself… 

On a scale of 1-10 of the worse things his temper has ever done, he'd rank this a firm 200... He refused to touch them for about a week afterwards and it took a long time for him to trust himself again… He just didn't want to hurt them...

"MC?? MC…? M… Oh no… MC, I'm so sorry, I would never hurt you! I… I wouldn't dare… please believe me..."

Asmodeus 

Oh baby! Sweetheart! Love of his life!! No, please no… don't subject him to this…

MC and Asmo were out dancing and some witch came by to try and flatter him.

Now, Asmo is a flirt normally, but get a few drinks in him and well… Let's just say his love of attention overrides his better judgment far more often than it should and friends don't let friends go home with creepy witches.

When the MC told the witch to scram, Asmo was confused and, frankly, quite irritated. That lovely lady had been stroking his ego in all the right ways and his human just scared her off so rudely!

Under most situations, Asmo would have kept his cool better but the haze of Demonus made his tongue loose... which let the venom fly…

He couldn’t quite remember what he said. The words left his mouth so quickly that they slurred together on his clumsy tongue, but it must have been enough because the MC flinched away from him.

That hurt all on its own, but as he started to process the pain in their eyes… he had never sobered up so fast...

He had their cheeks cupped in his hands and were kissing away their tears within the instant. Though the loud music at the club should have drowned out his apologies, the MC could see it written all over his equally tearful face…

He pulled them into his arms and then out of the club shortly after, the fog of Demonus that plagued him just moments before had long left him and all he knew was that the MC needed to be brought home and cuddled… stat.

“M-MC…? I’m sorry was it something… did I…? I’m so sorry… Please don’t cry…!”

Beelzebub 

He really didn't mean to shout so loud… honest... 

Beel becomes a completely different person when he’s hungry. He’s not entirely to blame, as his hunger can get so intense, but he still can snap from time to time when he really doesn’t mean to…

It was right after one of his practices and Beel hadn’t gotten a chance to eat in a few hours by the time the MC came to grab him from RAD. That already had him in a bad mood, but practice hadn’t gone too well for him either… 

He honestly didn’t realize how sharply he snapped at the MC when they asked him how he was. The irritation and frustration of the day all hit him at once and he became much harsher towards them than he ever intended…

It must have been the shock of seeing ever-sweet Beel suddenly get so aggressive with them that startled them so. He saw a couple tears gathering in their eyes before they could hide them and his heart just sank…

The MC was picked up in a crushing bear hug before they even let out their first sniffle. Beel didn’t even have to say how sorry he was, they could feel it in every squeeze he gave them. All while he completely ignored the growling of his stomach...

Beel wouldn’t let them go until he was certain they’d forgiven him which, honestly, took a while. Mammon was the one to ask why he had carried them all the way back to the House like a baby but… well, he didn’t need to know, now did he?

“MC, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have shouted… Are you alright...?”

Belphegor 

Stubborn boi is stubborn and trying really, really hard not to crack right now...

That's not going to last long.

Belphie can be a bit of a brat and since he's the baby of the family so he's used to getting his way. He and the MC don't argue a ton, but when they do, he always digs his heels in and refuses to budge an inch on anything.

So what started out as a simple disagreement on how often Belphie would flake out on his chores turned into a kick-the-door-down argument over how much his laziness left the MC to pick up the slack...

It ended as all their barn burning arguments do, with demon-form Belphie sitting cross-legged on his bed refusing to look at them and the MC angrily pacing about the room until he cools off…

And then he heard it.

First a sniffle… and then a hiccup. Another sniffle then muffled whine…

Oh no… not this… Why are they crying…? They don't normally cry…

To his credit (or perhaps discredit), he managed to hold out for about two minutes before he finally glanced back at them. Seeing the MC wiping their tears all alone on the floor crumbled his resolve real quick.

The MC found themselves enveloped by Belphie's arms before they even noticed he got up. Naturally, he was pouting and trying to make it seem like "not a big deal or anything" but they could tell by the nervous twitch of his tail that he was hurting too…

Needless to say. Belphie started remembering his chores a lot more after that.

"Humans are so fragile… I didn't mean to make you cry, you know? I'll get things done just… Don't cry… please…"

[gaysimpsstuff]

can you write a drabble of s/o age regressing after a scary situation and maybe hawks or dabi (whatever you feel) hugging them and just general fluff and comfort? I totally understand if you don't wanna write this so no pressure!!

Yeppers! As someone who experiences something similar to age regression/ little space, this will be based on my own experiences

Genre: Hurt/comfort

Type: headcanons/drabble

Warnings: Age regression/little space, crying, Manga spoilers for Dabi's backstory, reader being adorable

Other: I'm not %100 sure if I'd call my experience 'little space,' it's something that only showed up in the past year or so. Also, I usually only go into 'little space' when I'm very happy or comfortable or I'm doing something childish, and even after talking to people who actually age regress, I'm not sure what to call my experience.

Fluff Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @mandalorian-baby-bird @waffleareniceandfluffy @catcherisvibin @thesubtlewhore @popcatx0

Touya Todoroki/Dabi-

I feel like he doesn't understand it at first; like mans has never even heard of people who age regress until he met you.

When you first mentioned it to him, he was so confused.

"Okay so- hang on what?"

The first time you actually do it in front of him he literally has no idea what to do, he's so confused and probably more scared than you are.

He has the best intentions, but he did lock you in a room and call Toga for advice when you started to cry.

When you got big again, you were pissed.

And reasonably so.

It took a while, but he eventually got used to your little space and figured out what to do when you did this.

There was a point where he tried to deny how cute he thought it was- you acting like a child and doing childlike things.

He uses it as an opportunity to atone for the things he did as a child to his younger siblings, and as a way to feel like he can actually take care of something.

"Y/n, I'm back!" The door swung shut behind him as he stepped into your apartment, looking around, he couldn't see you. The whole place was a mess, books torn off their shelves and even some broken dishes in the kitchen.

Dabi frowned, he'd seen your apartment like this a couple of times before, usually what happens when you absolutely can't take it anymore.

He peeked inside your room, finding you sprawled on top of the sheets with your clothes still on, fast asleep.

He wished you'd called him, he knew he told you he was on a mission and not to bother him but if you had called he would've dropped anything and everything to appear by your side to comfort you throughout whatever caused this. He crept into your bedroom quietly, pulling the blankets you had kicked onto the ground up and over your body, turning the lights off.

He sighed, grabbing the broom and sweeping up the glass from the broken plate, and throwing it away. He put everything back in its place, even vacuuming the carpet so it was nice and soft when you woke up.

He was just finishing wiping down the counters when he heard you coming out of the bedroom. He turned his head to see you waddling towards him, rubbing your eyes and yawning.

"Touya?" you murmured, looking up at him "What are you doing here?"

"I live here too, y'know, it's only natural I come here in my free time," he explained. He felt your arms wrap around him, face pressing into his back.

"Warm..." your voice was soft, and he had to stop himself from burying his face into his arms to escape from the pure ball of cuteness that was hugging him. "Wanna cuddle."

He glanced over his shoulder at you, finding you staring up at him with a pout on your face, oh yeah you were definitely in 'smol mode' as he sometimes called it.

"Wanna cuddle, hm? Sorry baby you gotta wait until I'm finished cleaning."

"Nooooooo" you whined, slowly sliding down his body until you were clutching his leg. "Want cuddles!"

"Just let me fini-"

"Do that later! Cuddles now!"

Dabi chuckled, pressing a hand to his face.

"I can't- I just can't you're too cute like this." He shook his head, laughing now. "Okay fine, I'll cuddle you ya clingy lil baby~"

"Yayyy!" you were on your feet a moment later, arms in the air, giggling "I wanna wear your coat!" you pointed at his jacket, and he chuckled again, shrugging it off his shoulders and flinging it onto your back, helping your arms into the sleeves that were just a little too big for your body.

He pressed his lips against your forehead, looking down at you, he only saw pure love and admiration staring back up at you.

He had to protect this little bundle of joy in his life, this human that made him feel so happy, he would never let anything bad happen to you. When you were big again, he'd ask you what happened, and he'd make sure you'd call him if you were ever stressed.

But he did like the adorable faces you made when you were little.

Keigo Takami/Hawks-

He's a pro hero, he's done his research; so he knows what 'little space' is before he meets you.

But I can promise the commission probably made it seem like something gross, but you're his partner, he knows you're not some horrible person, so maybe he understands age regression wrong.

So.

Many.

Questions.

Like constant questions- it almost feels like he's interrogating you, like seriously it's getting old, Keigo

But he's so precious you kind of have to answer his questions.

Like Dabi, he finds you acting little to be the most adorable thing in the world, sometimes he leaves kid's stuff around the house hoping to trigger your little space so he can hold you and play with you.

He thinks of it as practice for when the two of you have children

The one day Keigo has off, to regrow his wings, all he really wants to do it sleep. Just lay in bed, wrapped up in his blankets and just dream and nap and snore and do nothing.

But little ole you had other plans.

"Keigooooooooo!"

The blonde bird boy shot upright in bed upon hearing your distressed call. He sped down the hall into the living room, panicked, only to find you sitting on the carpet with a box of crayons next to you, a coloring book open, page half filled in.

You looked up at Keigo with wide tear-filled eyes, shakily holding up the blue crayon snapped in half. Your lower lip quivered as you whimpered.

"I-it broke!" you cried, "I'm sorry it broke, Kei!" Keigo melted on the spot, slightly annoyed that you woke him up for something so small, but also-

Holy fuck you were just the cutest thing in the world.

He hoped your only stress would forever be broken crayons.

"It's okay, Y/n, things break sometimes, you're not in trouble." he cooed, sitting down next to you and patting your head.

"But- but it broke!" you exclaimed, sniffling

"It still functions though, doesn't it?" He scooched the coloring book closer to you, and you pressed the pointed end of the crayon against the paper, coloring the smiling puppy dog's nose blue.

You lit up, a bright smile spreading across your face, you cheered, bouncing up and down and hugging Keigo.

"It still works! It still works, Kei!" he giggled, holding you close to his body and enjoying the way you laughed.

"That's right! There's nothing that can't be resolved!" He pressed a kiss to your cheek, but couldn't hold himself back from attacking your entire face with little kisses.

"Keiiii noooo that tickles!" you giggled, pushing at him gently.

"One more? Please, baby?" he pleaded, pouting a little.

"Okiii!" you sat up, pressing your lips to his, pulling back with a laugh. "Can I have a juice box?"

"Of course," Keigo's face softened, you were just too precious, too cute, to perfect.

He really did hope the only thing you'd ever worry about was the crayon.