#and i am so going to hell for how quick my brain took the sound out of context x_x

[willsimpforanyone]

Thinking about how Percy Jackson would react if his shy girlfriend is a totally freak on bed with him,like she makes HIM,Percy Ego Jackson,whimper like a little bitch and he is so shocked.

also now thinking about this like men whimpering first of all is my shit

men who don't expect themselves to whimper and then their partner does something and they can't help but let out this pathetic, whiney little noise???!??!??!?!?

percy 'saved the world 5 times by the time he was 16' jackson is 100% a whimpery submissive, no one would ever guess because he has the 'she ordered no pickles' energy when y'all are out and about but all you have to do is push him onto the bed with a smirk and he's all puppy-dog-eyed looking up at you with his lips already parted, breathing a little hard and feeling like his jeans are too restrictive already

[assortedcriminality]

snippet #3

Contains: blood (not much), knives, violence

Civilian’s eyes fluttered open, their vision intensely blurry. Blinking a few times to clear it up and wincing from a sharp pain in their temple, they raised their head. Instantly they startled, letting out a yelp as a figure came into focus across from them—staring right at their face.

“Awake at last,” the person drawled, tapping their fingers on the table-the table? 

“W-wh…” words failed Civilian immediately, their mouth refusing to cooperate. Their brain hadn’t yet caught up with their surroundings, but they were pretty sure they were sitting up. Why would they be sitting up? Who was the person on the other side of the table? Where-

“I’m sure you have quite a few questions.” The stranger’s voice interrupted their train of thought. “But I have some rather more pressing ones for you as well.”

Another wave of hurt came from Civilian’s head. They reached up a hand to steady themself, ignoring the stranger, but felt something…wet. With some hesitance, they took it away. It was covered in blood.

“I’m sorry about that,” the person said in a tone that didn’t sound very apologetic. “My employee was a little rough. But it was a necessary precaution, as I’m sure you’ll soon understand.”

Civilian tried to respond, to ask what was going on, but their voice wouldn’t cooperate. All that came out was a dry, rasping cough that shook their whole body. 

“I’ll give you a minute to recover,” said the stranger. They shifted through a pile of papers on their side of the table that Civilian hadn’t noticed before. Their pen jotted a few quick notes down on one of the sheets while Civilian took a deep breath, trying their best to ground themself. They couldn’t panic. They had to stay focused. If they couldn’t figure out what was happening and didn’t manage to escape on their own… well, Lover had insisted on them having that tracker in their phone.

“Wh-where am I?” They finally managed. Their voice was hoarse, as if it hadn’t been used in months. Hell, they didn’t know how long they’d been out. It was possible. Unlikely, sure, but possible. God, I really, really, really hope not.

The stranger smiled and wrote something on their page. “The Agency, of course.”

Civilian blinked. “The-the Agency? Like… the hero agency. For people with actual superpowers? What?”

“Most people with actual superpowers, as you say,” the stranger corrected. “There are always those who slip through our fingers and dedicate themselves to villainy. That’s what I’ve brought you here to discuss.”

Their head pounded. “Who are you?”

The stranger’s grin widened. “Why, I’m Superhero. I thought that was quite obvious.”

“S-Superhero?” This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. They’d eaten spicy food last night and were having a bad dream, that’s it. Why would Superhero, of all people, kidnap them? They weren’t a hero, not even a sidekick. Sure they had powers, but the Agency only took first and secondary powered individuals. Civilian’s tertiary power, the ability to calm others with their singing, was good for helping Lover relax after a long day at work, but not so much for fighting crime. 

“Yes. Now then, Civilian, I wanted to ask you something…” Superhero flipped through a file, pulling out a photograph. “Do you know who this is?”

Civilian raised an eyebrow, wincing when they found it hurt to do so. Of course they knew who it was. The picture was of Supervillain, the most notorious criminal in the city. They had evaded the heroes for years, stealing from every important figure in range and causing destruction with their powers of invulnerability and telekinesis. In the photo, they had their hands raised, floating in front of a smoking skyscraper. A team of heroes were surrounding them from all angles, but they wore a confident smirk, as if they knew something no one else did. “That’s Supervillain.”

“Indeed. Now—“ Supervillain took another photo from their folder and slid it across the table. “I believe you know this person?”

Civilian started. The image was of Lover, wearing a suit in a restaurant. They appeared to be meeting with a business partner, as they often did. “Why do you-“ 

“Answer the question, Civilian,” the hero interrupted. “Do you or do you not know this person?”

“I-I do,” they stammered. What did Lover have to do with this, whatever ‘this’ was? “But-“

“Everything will become clear in just a moment.” Superhero withdrew the photo and placed it back in the file. “You and this person, Lover, have been dating for over three years. Is that correct?”

Civilian stared at them. “I…yes. That’s right.”

“And you work as a performer?”

“Yes. I’m a-a singer.”

The crimefighter scribbled something and glanced down at a paper. “And Lover, they’re in business?”

“Real estate,” they said numbly. “But why-“

“All in due time,” Superhero said without looking up. “Real estate,” they chuckled quietly, giving no explanation. “And you met them when?”

Civilian shifted in their chair. “A little under four years ago. I was doing a show at a restaurant. They came up after, gave me a tip, complimented my voice…”

“And you lived happily ever after,” Superhero finished for them, flipping through a few more pages. “You live together, yes? An apartment building off 57th?”

“How do you-“ 

“Nice apartment for a real estate mogul, isn’t it?” they cut in. “Penthouse and everything?”

“They work for a very successful-“

Superhero closed the file with a pronounced slam. Their expression was incomprehensible. “You want to know why you’re here, Civilian?”

Civilian, caught off guard, nodded. 

The hero folded their hands on the table. “I want information on Supervillain.”

Their head was spinning. This was all so confusing, so wrong. None of it made any sense. Why would Superhero kidnap them—violently, it seemed—and think they knew any more about Supervillain than the Agency? “I don’t know why you think I can help you. I don’t know anything about them. Please, I don’t know what you did to me, but just leave me alone.”

Superhero tilted their head to the side, a pitying expression forming on their face. “I know you know, Civilian. Don’t make me do something I don’t want to.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” they snapped, standing up. They were done with this. Clearly, Superhero wasn’t the person everyone thought they were, all shiny and moral, placed on a pedestal by the whole city. “But I don’t want to hear it.” They stormed over to the door and were about to throw it open when their body froze against their will, hands slamming to their sides. 

“Sit,” Superhero said. 

Civilian’s eyes widened in horror as their legs began to move back towards the chair of their own volition. They’d never seen Superhero’s powers used before, never imagined how terrifying it could be. The ability to control others with their mind, used to easily dispatch criminals without any need for bloodshed. They struggled to no avail as their hand reached to pull out their chair. Superhero’s face was full of mock disappointment. 

“Now then,” the hero said as Civilian was forced to sit down again. “Let’s continue, shall we? We were talking about Supervillain, weren’t we?”

Civilian couldn’t speak. They couldn’t move. They were trapped in their own body, unable to do anything but move their eyes. 

“Please don’t continue your naive stubbornness,” they sighed. “I’m afraid I don’t have the patience for it. Tell me what you know. This is your last chance.”

“I don’t know anything,” were the words that shot out immediately, before Civilian even realized they could talk again. “Please believe me, I don’t know-“

“Civilian, dear.” Superhero shook their head. “I’m sorry, I just can’t believe you when I know you’re dating Supervillain.”

Their breathing stopped. “What?”

“Supervillain, Lover…” the hero shrugged. “One and the same. I mean, it all seems quite obvious now. I simply can’t trust that you didn’t know.”

A laugh burbled up in Civilian’s throat. “You can’t be serious. Lover, a master criminal? That’s ridiculous. You have the wrong person. Lover doesn’t even have powers.”

“So you’re telling me you’ve never noticed anything off about them? Like the way they never seem to get injured, even everyday things like paper cuts and little bruises?” they asked skeptically.

“They’re just-just lucky, I guess.” Come on. Anyone could avoid injury just by being careful. And besides, just because Civilian had never seen them get hurt doesn’t mean they never had been. 

Superhero’s eyebrows rose. “Lucky. All right, how about the way they’re gone from dusk to dawn with no real explanation? Or how we’ve witnessed them meeting with Villain, a known criminal, under the guise of making a real estate deal?”

Civilian shook their head vehemently. “No. No. No. You’re wrong. You’re wrong. It’s all just a misunderstanding. They’re not like that. They would never break the law like that, put people in danger.” Their voice rose. “You don’t know them.”

The hero let out a snarl, their face contorting, rising half out of their chair. “You know something. I know you do. You will tell me.”

“I don’t know anything!” Civilian yelled, standing up again. Superhero seemed to have forgotten to keep controlling them. “Leave me alone!”

Superhero rose to their full height, sliding their chair back. Their expression was murderous. They put a hand on the edge of the table and slammed it to the left, making it crash into the wall. Civilian let out a yelp, hastily stumbling backward as Superhero approached.

“St-stay away from me,” Civilian said, hands outstretched. Their back hit the wall. Before they could move, Superhero’s hand smashed into the brick beside their head. With their other, they pulled a knife from their belt. Civilian froze, terrified eyes meeting the hero’s furious ones.

“You do know. You know everything. And I will drag it out of you however I need to,” they growled. “I don’t even need this knife, though it would be fun. I could make you jump out of the window. I could make you stab yourself in the heart. So I suggest you tell me what I want to know. Now.”

Tears began to slide down Civilian’s face. “Lover isn’t Supervillain, I don’t know anything, I swear, I don’t know—“

Superhero’s knife slashed up in a flash of silver, cutting a bold line across their cheek. They cried out, more tears mingling with the blood that immediately began to stream down their chin in a thin, steady line. 

“How dare you,” they demanded, managing to glare the supposed hero down through their pain. “Everyone parades you around, saying how amazing and great you are, and here you are torturing me.”

A sinister smile formed on Superhero’s face. They angled their knife on their captive’s shoulder, starting to slowly dig in with the tip. Civilian bit their lip, determined to be defiant. “No one ever needs to know. Give me what I want, and I’ll stop. Simple as that.”

“I…” they trailed off, gasping as Superhero dug their blade deeper into their shoulder. “Don’t know… anything.”

“You lying bi—“

BOOM. The door fell flat on the wooden floor, sending up a cloud of dust. Bricks clattered to the ground, loosened by the force. Superhero whirled around, knife still held tightly in their fist. A tall figure stepped into the light, clad in a dark gray supersuit and a black mask that covered their features. A mask anyone in the city would recognize. 

“No,” Civilian breathed, forgetting their pain.

“Supervillain,” Superhero drawled. In a flash, they turned momentarily to seize Civilian’s wrist and pull them forward. They were too frozen to struggle as the hero’s arm wrapped around their waist and the knife was placed on their pulse point, forcing their chin up. “How nice of you to join us.”

Civilian held back a sob as Supervillain’s masked gaze slid to them. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. They hadn’t believed it for a second, not through the hero’s insistence. They had never doubted their partner, not ever. They’d never had a reason to. But now…

“Lover.” The name was less than a whisper on their lips, but the villain still flinched.

Superhero glanced down at their hostage. “You really didn’t know?” They gave an exaggerated sigh. “Well, I suppose you were somewhat useful. Now…” They faced Supervillain with a triumphant expression. “Turn yourself over to me, or I slit their pretty little throat.” 

Supervillain’s finger twitched. It was an almost imperceptible movement, unnoticeable had Civilian not been watching them a hawk. A wicked blade, about twelve inches long, sat in the air in front of Superhero’s face. It was as if it had appeared out of nowhere. The hero stiffened.

“Release them. Now. Or I kill you. They’re innocent, they have no part in this.” Their voice was both familiar and unfamiliar, deeper and a little raspier than usual. 

Superhero sneered at them around the blade. “They lost their innocence the second they started dating a master criminal. They’re just collateral now.” They increased their pressure on the knife, causing a thin line of blood to bead up on the hostage’s neck. “You’re fast, but are you fast enough? You might kill me, but you’ll be too late to save them.”

Civilian trembled in the hero’s grip, staring at the criminal’s motionless figure. They didn’t want Supervillain—Lover—to kill Superhero, no matter how terrible they were. They didn’t want to watch Lover do such a horrible thing, accept that they were capable of murder. It was the right thing for Supervillain to turn themself in, but Superhero was corrupt, possibly unstable. Civilian didn’t want to see them win either.

“Fine.” Supervillain’s blade clattered to the ground. The criminal held out their hands to Superhero. “Take me. Just let them go.”

The hero grinned. They stepped away from Civilian, offering the knife to them handle-first. “Hold this for me, love. For insurance.”

For the second time, their hand moved of its own accord. To their horror, it grabbed the knife and placed it on their neck again. They were frozen like that, not even able to speak. Supervillain’s shoulders tightened. The hero drew closer to them, taking a pair of thick power-suppressing handcuffs from their belt. 

“I can’t believe all it took to bring in the mighty Supervillain was a little mouse of a civilian,” they said, grabbing the criminal’s left hand roughly and forcing it into one of the cuffs, securing it with a loud click. The hero lifted their head and smirked at their masked face. “Ridiculous, isn’t it?”

“Quite,” Supervillain murmured. Their captor continued speaking, but it wasn’t Superhero they were looking at. Instead, they gazed past at their partner’s ashen face, the blood matted in their hair, running from their cheek and shoulder. That’s when Civilian saw it. The subtle twitch of the villain’s finger on their uncuffed hand. The dusty brick that seemed to appear out of nowhere, hovering just above Superhero’s head. The hostage’s eyes widened. The hero hadn’t seen the movement, they were focused on their monologue, convinced they had already won. Civilian couldn’t say anything, couldn’t warn them. They weren’t even sure they wanted to. 

The brick came down. Superhero collapsed to the ground mid-sentence. Civilian dropped their knife, backing away. They watched as Supervillain knelt and unclipped a set of keys from the unconscious hero’s belt. They chose a silver one and unlocked the cuff on their left wrist, letting it fall to the floor with a clatter. Only then did they look up at their partner. Soundlessly, they brought a hand to their face and slipped off their black mask, revealing the features beneath. Lover’s eyes met theirs. 

“Civilian, I’m so sorry—“

“Save it, Lover,” they said, voice trembling. “You lied to me. You’ve lied to me from the day we met. You’re a villain.”

Their pain was obvious on their face. “I know. It’s my fault you’re here. I’m so, so sorry, Civilian. I never meant for you to get hurt.”

“I was going to get hurt anyway!” they burst out. “No matter what happened, you were going to hurt me. Maybe not like this, but did you really think you could hide who you are forever? Why did you do this?” Their voice broke. “Why would you do this to me?” 

“Because I’m selfish,” they said. “And I love you. I loved you too much to tell you, and I was too selfish to let you go.” 

“Is that supposed to make me forgive you?” Tears began to well up in their eyes again. Their head pounded. “Because you love me, you think that makes everything okay?”

“Of course not.” Their voice was full of anguish. “It doesn’t make up for it. Nothing does. I don’t expect you to forgive me. I would understand if you hated me forever.”

“Lover…” Civilian put a hand to their forehead. The room was spinning, lightheadedness sinking in. “Lover, I don’t—“ 

Their knees buckled. Lover was there in a millisecond, catching them gently and holding them upright. Their head fell into Lover’s shoulder. The villain examined them with concern. A sheen of sweat stood out at their hairline. Their breathing was shallow and laborious. 

“Civilian. Civilian, are you all right?” they asked. 

“It-it hurts,” they whispered. 

Their partner’s eyes widened. “You’ve lost more blood than I thought. Your adrenaline’s kept you functioning all this time.” They placed a hand under Civilian’s knees and lifted them up into their arms. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“I want to go home,” they mumbled.

Lover gave them a sad smile, starting out of the empty door frame. “So do I, my love.”

So do I. 

word count: 2948

[lostintransist]

The Real Problem With The Trolley

Coffee Shop Meet Cute | Part 3

Part 1 here. AO3

Kyle, as he introduced himself all those weeks ago, took all of twenty minutes to decipher your phone number and send a text to you.

>Would have taken me longer, but humming the ABCs tipped me off.

You read the message from the drop-down menu, not daring to open it and let him know you’ve seen it.

You weren’t bold. Kyle was gorgeous, and frankly, you were plain. You were pleased to be plain, let that not be misunderstood. Avoiding some of the nastier interactions with men but also never being singled out at the club or at a party would always be the curse/blessing of your face. Thinking it over you decide that stereotypes exist for a reason and that you would treat this like a woman in every port kind of situation until proven otherwise. You would chat with him and discuss philosophy and life but would let it go no further than friendship.

>Where did you learn to sign?

His second message appeared while you had been trapped in your thoughts. Taking a deep breath as if you were about to plunge into an icy lake you click reply from the menu.

<Something about the ABCs requires me to hum no matter how old I get. And I learned at uni. HBU?

When the message and reply box disappear you tuck the phone into your pocket and focus on the job you are being paid for. The buzz against your ass makes you jump. Quick bastard replied already. Rolling your eyes you ignore the tug in your brain to check your phone. You refused to get reprimanded for ‘looking at your phone excessively on shift’. Your manager was an asshole who couldn’t cut it at corporate and got sent back down to manage a store.

The shift passed in the slowness that only a retail job can manage. The journey home, thankfully just a single bus ride, gave you time to dip into Kyle’s messages. You cleared chats and videos from friends before opening his.

>Learned with the rest of my team. We use sign a lot on jobs and during training to communicate.

>Why do you study philosophy? Sounds like you’ve finished uni at this point.

A few hours later he sent another message.

>What are your thoughts on the trolley problem?

You reply to his messages out of order but figure if he isn’t smart enough to match them up keeping up a text chain would be harder than you cared for.

<I think the trolley problem misses the big questions.

<I am done with uni, graduated last spring but can’t find a job that cares about the paper I paid for.

< I like using my brain, feels like a good way to fight back against all the evil I see.

His reply comes in as you are stepping into the flat you share with your three other roommates.

>What questions should we be asking about the trolley problem?

You pause after shutting and locking the front door, shoes, and bag still on.

<First off who the hell owns these tracks? Secondly, how the hell did so many people get tied to them? Don’t tracks get checked regularly for safety?

You slip off both shoes and fire off one more message.

<It seems like we are so focused on who gets to live or die in the trolley problem that we aren’t asking who put us in that situation in the first place.

With that, you lock your phone and set about the task of showering and finding something to eat after your long ass day.

Coffee Masterlist | Masterlist

@soldierservant I didn't know if I was going to make more of this but since I did I figured I would tag you once and if you want to get notified when more of these drop you LMK.

[lacy-oh-lacy]

Ghostface Fetish ･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Scream Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Amber Freeman x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.7k

Summary: You have an unusual fantasy but luckily your girlfriend is the perfect person to indulge you. i.e Amber fucks you in a Ghostface costume.

CW: CNC, rough sex, under-negotiated kink, Dom!Amber, roleplay, degradation, fake knife, oral on strap-on, strap-on called a "dick", graphic language, you and Amber being freaks

You stepped into your bedroom and shivered. Fresh from the shower, the dampness clinging to your skin turned icy at the sharp drop in temperature inside.

What the…? 

Your question answered itself once you spotted the open window letting the frigid night’s air in.

You groaned. You could’ve sworn you closed that.

Your cami and sleep shorts left your skin exposed to the chill that had crept in. Knowing your girlfriend was coming over soon you wore as little as possible and now were apparently being punished for it.

You shut the window -for sure this time- and grabbed your phone to text said girlfriend but stilled. She had beaten you to it.

‘On my way <3’

Weird… That was sent almost an hour ago and you didn’t live that far away. You pushed away grim thoughts of Amber’s car skidding off the road, it was more likely she took a detour to get gas or something.

Actually, it was most likely she just thought better of coming. 

You were shocked she’d even agreed to it in the first place. ‘Too good to be true’ was your initial thought. 

See, everything had been going great with Amber, but ever since that stupid confession that one too many beers had coaxed out of you you’d felt a distance between you and her. Like she was trying to make some kind of decision you weren’t privy to.

Probably trying to decide if she really wanted to date a freak that kind-of, sort-of, had the hots for Ghostface.

A pebble of worry in your stomach suddenly turned into a boulder when a rustling sound came from your closet.

…That sure as hell wasn’t the wind.

Nailed to the spot by fear, you stared wide-eyed at the door. Your rationale fleeing before you could think to.

Everything was perfectly still and silent for just long for you to wonder if you imagined it, and then the door burst open.

You screamed -even before you recognised the figure coming at you as Ghostface.

They were too quick. You couldn’t even guess how you could escape before they had pinned you to your wall, knife raised above you.

It was over. You were about to become the next Casey Becker. How was that for karma?

Instead of the knife, what pierced you was the sound of a familiar girlish giggle and your brain sparked back to life.

“Amber!?”

She yanked her mask off and suddenly you were staring at your girlfriends grinning face. “Finally! I thought you’d never come in here.”

You were frozen, mouth as agape as the one on her mask before anger overpowered you.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Her smile didn’t falter at your outburst. “What’s a matter? I thought you were into this.” Her teasing tone was low, dripping with allure, the way it did when she came onto you.

“This is a really sick joke.”

Her usually sweet smile was twisted by the sadistic gleam in her eyes. “Oh, but baby I’m not joking.”

The knife you now realised was plastic trailed along your chest, circling the hard peak of your nipple before you knocked her hand away.

“Amber, I’m serious-”

“So am I.”

She blocked your attempt to get past her, pressing you to the wall. Her hips met yours and you finally noticed it. The bulge of her strap-on under the cloak. 

Oh… she really was serious.

Your heart skipped a beat. Your eyes jolted to her darkened ones. “Woah, hold on… are you saying you want to…?”

“Fuck you like a serial killer? Uh huh.”

That sentence nearly knocked you over.

“W-why?” 

“This is a fantasy of yours right?”

“Yeah, I guess… but- I thought it totally freaked you out.”

Her gaze softened. Affection overriding lust for just a moment. “You could never freak me out. I was just surprised...” Her smile grew so delighted she almost looked crazed. “really surprised.”

Then she began to grind softly against you as she continued. “So, what do you say? Be my helpless victim tonight?”

You told yourself to say no. That you knew the fantasy was wrong and you didn’t even mean to tell her let alone ever act it out. But fuck, you really wanted to say yes. So you nodded, timid but sure.

 “…As long as I make it to the sequel.”

You saw just a flash of her wide, victorious smirk before she was pulling you into a deep kiss. The force of her lips could bruise you but you couldn’t care less, happy to submit to her. When she pulled away she went straight for the mask, hiding away her perfect face once again.

“Don’t forget your safe word, Baby. Cause you’re not dealing with Amber tonight.”

The uncharacteristic darkness in her tone sent a chill up your spine but you throbbed between your legs.

In character, she stalked around you, knife raised in warning. “You know… it would be a pity to kill someone as cute as you. Maybe we could come to some kind of agreement instead.”

You nodded eagerly. Letting just a bit of nervousness sink into your expression. “Anything. What do you want?”

She laughed. It was a cold and patronising sound. “You know what I want.” With strength you didn’t know Amber had she pushed on your shoulders, forcing you to your knees.

She pulled her strap-on free from the cloak so it hovered right in front of your mouth. Playing reluctant, you turned your head away from it, thrilled to feel a fist in your hair pulling you back.

“Nuh uh.” She reprimanded. “Don’t go doing anything stupid or it’ll be more than my dick rearranging your guts.”

She held your head in place as she pushed past your lips. You felt just a slight discomfort at her size but there was no time to adjust before her dick was pumping back and forth. Your eyes reflexively watered but you tried to suck her as best you could, bobbing your head once she let it go.

Amber cooed at the sight of you. “You look so fucking pretty. Bet you were hoping I’d stop by, huh? Hoping I’d let you choke on my cock?”

You moaned around her. The words stroked a fire inside of you that only grew when you looked up into the sunken eyes of her mask. You squeezed your thighs tightly together to resist the urge to reach between them.

How the hell could Ghostface using your mouth as their own personal fleshlight turn you on so much?

“You know who dies first in horror movies? Little sluts like you.”

You couldn’t respond while she was mouth-fucking you but as she pulled her wet cock free you looked defiantly up at her. “I’m not a slut.”

For a moment she stood still, you’d bet that under the mask Amber was raising an eyebrow at the challenge. “Oh, no?” She gestured with her knife to your shorts, “Take them off. Underwear too.”

Despite your smart mouth you did as you were told. Amber snatched your panties out of your hand when you finished and you briefly wondered if she was going to gag you with them. She didn’t, she just took a moment to inspect them.

“So… If you’re not a slut, then why did you get so wet while sucking my dick?”

You flushed indignantly. “Go fuck yourself.”

With careful strength Amber shoved your upper body onto your desk, forcing you into a bend.

“I’d rather fuck you.”

She knew she didn’t have to hold you in place, your body was always more obedient then your mouth. You kept your head down and ass up, presenting for her as she pulled back. She just stared for a moment, like she was seeing your pussy for the first time. Her gloved fingers spread your lips apart and your face burned in shame at her make-believe voyeurism.

Her hand left but before you could bemoan the loss of contact her cockhead rubbed teasingly along your wet slit. Back and forth while you whimpered beneath her.

“Aww, you want me inside of you? Then beg me to fuck you like the whore you are.”

Your pussy clenched around nothing. If she didn’t fill you up you might actually cry.

“Please…”

“Please what?”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Please fuck me like a whore.”

She chuckled, hands bracing against your hips. “Well since you asked so nicely…”

Amber plunged into you with a speed and force you weren’t ready for, as violent as a stab.

“You’re so fucking helpless.” You heard through your moans and gasps as she pounded into you again and again. “I can just do whatever I want to you.”

Your insides burned in the best way, on a knifes edge between pain and pleasure.

“What are you?” She demanded, voice breathy and obviously worked up.

“I’m your slut.”

“Yeah… My good little slut.”

The praise shot liquid heat through you, that knot inside of you tightening quicker than ever before. You clenched around her and cried out, “Fuck! I’m close!”

Her thrusts somehow got quicker, her every inch slamming into you at a breakneck speed as bliss overwhelmed you, your orgasm hitting you like a fucking meteor.

You were trembling when Amber slowed to a stop. Her hands on your hips and the cock buried inside of you were the only things keeping you standing.

Between your hammering heart and the aftershocks of your orgasm you felt like your whole body was throbbing as she gently pulled out. Your sensitive pussy aching at the sensation.

You staggered back and onto your bed, soon thereafter joined by Amber. You hadn’t noticed her taking the mask or strap off, apparently your post-orgasmic haze temporarily blinded you.

She stroked the hair from your face to assess you with concerned eyes. “Hey, are you okay?”

You tried to laugh but were too out of breath. “Yeah.” Better than okay actually.

She wrapped her arms around you and you leant into her, trusting her to keep your limp body upright.

“Damn, Amber… Where the hell did that come from?”

She laughed into your hair, a more sweet and gentle sound than the cruel ones that had come from behind the mask.  

“I guess you’re not the only one with a Ghostface fetish.”

A/N: I probably made Amber softer than I needed to in this lol but I have some darker stuff for her coming soon.

[bella-rose29]

Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - part 4

Christmas Eve, and the day of the party.

once again I maintain the idea that lockwood has his tea as a Cameron special (for absolutely no reason, they've just merged into one being in my mind)

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: swearing, family members being mean, lockwood never put his pyjamas back on, I should mention now that they're 18 for plot and ethical reasons, mentions of body image issues, innuendos?

series master list

(image credit to @sxnflowersa_tv on pinterest)

When Y/n woke up the next morning, her first thought was that she was cold.

Her second was that she was in a double bed and not her usual tiny single in Portland Row, and the third was panic at seeing her boss shirtless.

Lockwood's blanket had slipped at some point in the night, and so when she sat up and stretched she was met with the sight of him sleeping soundly in the armchair, his pyjamas folded neatly on the small table next to him. How he wasn't freezing to death she wasn't sure, but then Lockwood had never made sense to her. One minute he was all smiles and charm and then the next he was saying something completely opposite into her ear, and she was left to figure out which version was the real Lockwood.

Today would be difficult, and they had to come to some sort of understanding if they were going to survive the hell that they would soon be entering.

Lockwood didn't look comfortable at all, with his neck at an odd angle and his legs curled up underneath him (he was bound to get pins and needles when he woke up), and Y/n felt the smallest pang of pity before a knock sounded on the bedroom door.

"Are you two awake?" Her mother questioned, likely wanting to know if they wanted tea. Y/n clambered out of bed and leaned against the door.

"Uh, I am," she whispered. "Lock- Anthony's still asleep."

"Right, well do you think he'll want a cup of tea? I'm heading down to make a pot now."

"Oh, yeah. He has it weird though, with sugar and honey."

"I'll pop those on the tray, then, and he can put in what he wants."

"Thanks Mum." She heard her mother shuffle and head down the stairs, knees clicking as she went, and turned back to look at her fake boyfriend. "Fuck," she said, a horrible realisation dawning on her. Lockwood couldn't be in the armchair when her mother brought in the tea, or she'd wonder if they'd had an argument. Walking over, she gave his arm a quick prod.

No response.

She tried again, harder this time, and when he stirred a little she cheered internally. "Lockwood?" she whisper-shouted, giving him a proper shove.

"What? What is it?" He was bolt upright almost immediately, scanning for any signs of danger and reaching for Y/n. "Is everything alright?"

"Uh... yes," she said slowly. "Mum's making tea, and when she brings it in you can't be in the chair or she'll have questions." She stared down at his hand where it was grabbing her pyjama top (an old oversized t-shirt), his knuckles white. "You... you can let go of me now, Lockwood."

"Oh. Right." He retracted his hand, but not before letting it hover in the space between them for a few seconds. He stood up, the blanket falling, and Y/n immediately turned around.

"Why are you naked?!"

"I am not! I got hot in the night so I took my pyjamas off! I still have my pants on, thank you very much!"

"Well put your pyjamas back on!" she shrieked, pressing her hands over her face (despite still having her back to him) and desperately hoping she could delete the image from her brain. She had thought he'd only taken his top off, but since he wore matching pyjamas the pile of clothes on the table had looked like one thing, not two. She could hear him hopping around while he attempted to quickly pull his trousers on, and after a minute or so he cleared his throat.

"Alright, I'm dressed." Y/n turned around slowly, scared that he was joking, and sighed in relief when she realised that he wasn't. "Such a drama queen," he muttered under his breath, clearly not wanting her to hear as he looked to his left with a red face.

"I am not a drama queen, Lockwood. If anybody is the drama queen it's you. Now get in the bed." She pointed at it, glare on her face.

"If you wanted me to sleep with you you could have let me do that last night," he smirked, and she threw a decorative pillow at him.

"Just get in the bed, Lockwood." She went to grab a second pillow when he wriggled his eyebrows at her, and he quickly stopped and pulled back the covers. When he was finally settled she climbed in next to him.

"Y/n."

"What?"

"You should probably come a bit closer." He wasn't wrong, since they were as far away from each other as they could get, but she stubbornly refused to cosy up to him when she didn't need to just yet.

"Hang on." She'd spotted the blanket still crumpled on the floor, and hurried to pick it up just as she heard her mother coming up the stairs. Chucking it over the armchair she rushed back to the bed, pulling the duvet over her just as the door opened.

"Fuck's sake, come here," Lockwood whispered, harshly tugging on her arm and then wrapping his arm around her waist. "Ah, good morning, Emma!"

"Morning! Just got some tea for you here," she put the tray down on Y/n's bedside table and paused for a moment as she took in the two of them in the bed. "How did you sleep? Hopefully you feel rested enough for today?"

"Oh I slept beautifully, thank you." Lockwood beamed up at Emma, and Y/n wondered if she knew that his fingers were stroking the skin of her stomach under her top where it had ridden up.

"I'm glad to hear it! Well, I'll leave you to it!" They both smiled until Y/n's mother was out of the room, but as soon as the door clicked shut behind her they shot away from each other.

"I hope we never have to do that again."

"We'll have to do it tomorrow morning, darling."

"Nobody else is here, you don't need to keep calling me that."

"Ah, yes. Sorry, Schmoopie."

"I hate you. I'm going to poison your tea." She was getting the mugs ready now, adding extra honey to one and pouring in the water over the tea bags.

"And I will happily drink it."

A few minutes later (she'd had to let the tea stew for a bit) she poured in the milk and handed over his mug.

"Did you add in the sugar?"

"Yep."

"And the honey?"

"You watched me do it, Lockwood."

"Right, yes. I did." He was quiet for a moment, staring into the contents of his mug. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she replied, mild shock running through her at the sincerity of his gratitude.

They drank their tea in silence.

~~~

"So, just to recap, there are around fifty people coming over today?"

"Yep," Y/n said through a mouthful of cereal. "All extended family members and close family friends and their families. I've been thinking about it, and as much as it pains me to say it I think... ugh," she scowled into her bowl. "I think you're right abo-"

"Ha! Finally! I got you to say it! About what?"

"If you'd let me finish, you would know, idiot."

"Oh, yes. Sorry."

"I think you're right about needing to do a big speech to everyone all in one go about..." she gestured between the two of them vaguely, "us."

"Ah. Yes, it would save a lot of time, wouldn't it?"

"Hm, it would. And then we only have to remember things once really."

"Remind me again what the story was?" They were sat in the kitchen, the only ones up other than Y/n's mother (who was upstairs getting things ready).

"What was 8 months ago?"

"Why 8 months?" Lockwood frowned over his second mug of tea that morning.

"Because that's what I told Steph last night."

"Oh. Uh, April I think? There was that one job we went on in March, just the two of us. We could stick pretty close to the truth then if we used that as a death scare that made you realise that you couldn't possibly live without me."

"Wasn't the story that you realised you were hopelessly in love with me one day and asked me out, but I refused multiple times until eventually I gave in to get you to shut up?"

"Well, yes. But I just think that- morning, Stephanie." His smile was clearly forced, and Y/n realised with a start that she was beginning to be able to tell which of his smiles were real.

"Morning you two. Hopefully you didn't get too frisky last night after that adorable kiss under the mistletoe!"

"No, we-"

"Well, a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell, Stephanie," Lockwood smirked, and Y/n rolled her eyes at his interruption. Her cousin was lapping it up, and after a few minutes the kitchen was filled with various members of Y/n's family as they all filed in, bleary eyed and reaching for tea and coffee. They would have to figure out their story while they got ready for the party, since they definitely couldn't get details straight with so many people in the room.

"Morning, Squeak," her brother Will murmured as he sat on a stool next to her at the counter. Y/n scoffed at the nickname, but there was nothing resentful behind it. "Sleep alright?"

"Yeah, did you?" He nodded in response as he started shovelling mouthfuls of cereal in, the bowl nearly spilling over with the amount of food in it.

"Lover boy didn't give you too much grief last night, did he?"

"No, he was alright."

"Hey, if you need a break at any point today come and find me, yeah? I'll fend off any inquisitive relatives."

"Thanks, Will." He was only a couple of years older than her, being the third youngest of her brothers, but Will liked to act as though he was the oldest of all of the L/n siblings. In fairness Tom was eleven and Sam and John who were thirty and twenty-eight respectively were rarely home or in contact with her, and she didn't have as much of a bond with them. Olivia was a year younger than Y/n, but since they had shared a room growing up they had fought consistently over the years about completely irrelevant things and barely talked outside of gatherings.

"Anytime. I think me and the boys were gonna take your lover boy away at some point to give him the proper talk, so if you can't find any of us later that'll be why."

"Please stop calling him 'lover boy', Will," she grimaced, not noticing Lockwood come up behind her.

"But I am your lover boy, darling." She whipped her head around to see Lockwood leaning against the counter next to her with a soft smile.

Weird. She'd thought he would be smirking instead.

Will snorted, then tipped his bowl up to drink the last of the milk. "You two," he said after he'd finished, "are quite possibly the most sickening thing I have ever seen."

~~~

"Is a suit too much, do you think?"

"Maybe leave the tie," Y/n called out from the bathroom where she was getting changed. She had long since pulled on the burgundy dress, but not knowing when Lockwood would be in a state where she could walk out meant that she had spent the last five minutes staring at her reflection in the mirror. She was absolutely certain that multiple people would make comments about her figure, or compare her to Stephanie, or both, and she was dreading leaving the bathroom. Then there would be the comments about her job, and how being an agent was a terrible choice and she should have gone into full-time education instead.

"Y/n? You can come out when you're ready."

She sighed shakily, taking one last look at herself in the mirror above the sink before unlocking the door and stepping out.

Lockwood was in one of his usual suits, pink socks poking out from under his trousers, and he was just sorting out his cuffs when he looked up and froze. When he still didn't say anything Y/n's mind started racing ahead to all the different possibilities.

"I look awful, don't I? I'll get my jeans and jumper and get changed, give me a minute."

"No!" Lockwood shouted, his arms outstretched. He hesitated, then spoke again, and his voice was back to how it sounded when he was being an arse. "No, don't do that, just... you look fine like that and we'll be late if you get changed now."

"Oh. Alright." She frowned, wrapping her arms around her midriff as she inspected Lockwood's outfit. "Wait, don't move," she called out when he went to move. Y/n walked over to him, then reached up to straighten out his collar. It had been sticking up, so she smoothed her hands over it to right it, letting them linger on his chest afterwards. He wasn't moving, and she was quite sure that he wasn't breathing either, and when she looked up at him she realised that she was holding her breath too.

They hadn't been this close since they kissed the night before, and then they'd had an audience.

Now it was just the two of them, alone in the room.

"Y/n?" Lockwood asked, his voice slightly hoarse.

"Yeah?" Had his face moved closer? Suddenly she could make out the individual colours in his eyes and was able to count the freckles on his cheeks. He licked his lips, tilting his head slightly to brush his nose against hers, and she felt her eyes fluttering closed.

"Are you two nearly ready? Emma needs help getting food and things ready for the guests!" A loud knock accompanied the shrill voice of Y/n's Aunt Linda, and the pair of them sprang apart, clearing their throats and avoiding eye contact. Y/n marched over to the door and wrenched it open, plastering a smile on her warm face.

"We're ready! Anthony? You coming?"

"Yeah, just... I'll be down in a minute, darling. I just need to use the loo." He flashed the two women a smile, then disappeared into the en-suite. Y/n could have killed him for leaving her alone, but maybe that was for the best given what had just happened.

"Come on then," Linda said, and ushered her downstairs.

~~~

Everyone was busy doing something, and everything was in complete chaos.

"Oh, that can go over there. Tom, don't put that in your mouth, please. No, over there, Ben. Tom! Not in your mouth! You're eleven, this shouldn't be difficult! Boys, please stop mucking about and do something useful! Over there- oh for god's sake, give it here!" Y/n's mother snatched a plate of food away from her husband, rushing between the kitchen and the dining room that was through the open double doors off to the side. The whole area would be brimming with guests in less than thirty minutes, and things were still being put out. "Oh, you're here, that's perfect. Where's Anthony? Never mind, no time. Here, you can put this next to the thingy there!" Luckily Y/n had grown up with her mother's distracted way of talking and knew exactly what she meant, taking the opportunity to run away from Linda.

The next ten minutes followed the same pattern of being handed things and told to put them in various spots on the table, and Lockwood was nowhere to be seen for any of it. Y/n was starting to worry that he'd flushed his skinny beanpole of a frame down the toilet.

"Where's your boyfriend, Y/n?" Stephanie asked, sidling up in a stunning silver dress that looked as though it had been painted on her.

"In the toilet. Are you gonna help, Steph?"

"Oh, you're... wearing that again?" she asked, ignoring Y/n's tired request for help. "Didn't you wear that last year? You've put on a bit of weight since then, haven't you!" She let out a laugh, and Y/n brought her arms around her stomach self-consciously for the second time since putting on the dress. Maybe she should have ignored Lockwood and got changed anyway. At least then when people complained about her outfit she'd be more comfortable in her own body. "Well, personally I think you should get it let out a little, Y/n. You do look awfully-"

"Beautiful?" a voice questioned from Y/n's right, and after a second someone else's arms were around her waist, pulling her back against a warm chest. "She does look stunning, doesn't she?"

"Anthony," Y/n breathed when he spun her around to face him, his hands holding hers tightly. He was smiling one of those private smiles reserved for the people he cared about, small and gentle, and her heart jumped in her chest.

"I... I suppose," Stephanie said, sounding confused. It was so typical of her to not think of her cousin as anything other than a way to make herself look better. Y/n barely noticed when her cousin drifted off, or when her brother picked up his camera and took a photo of the two of them framed by the lights that had been draped over the doorframe, since all she could focus on was the feel of her hands being held by Lockwood and the way he was looking at her.

"Aww, aren't they just adorable!" Y/n's grandmother Jean said loudly, catching the attention of everybody nearby. Apparently half of the guests had arrived on time (of course the one time that happened was the time she had to pull off a huge fake dating stunt), because the kitchen and dining room were packed with people. Murmurs of assent travelled around, and Y/n could hear a few people questioning who the tall young man next to her was, and suddenly her heart was plummeting rather than jumping, and she felt sick.

"Hey," Lockwood whispered, still smiling at her. "We can do this, alright? It's only today and most of tomorrow, and then we're back in London. It's really not that long when you think about it."

He needed to stop being nice to her, because it was freaking her out.

One minute he was saying she looked fine and not seeming to care much about what she looked like, and the next he was declaring that she was beautiful and stunning with such sincerity that she couldn't help but think it was real.

"So this is the boyfriend Linda told us about, huh?" one guest asked.

"Um... yes," Y/n replied, moving closer to Lockwood and curling into his side, trying not to look too stiff and petrified when his arm came around her side. "This is Anthony." She gestured up at him, feeling increasingly uncomfortable about the fact that around thirty people all had their eyes on her, and any one of them could work out that this relationship was a farce and completely destroy any good reputation that she had amongst her family.

"How did it all start? Go on, give us the story!" somebody called out.

"Yeah, we all want to know!" exclaimed a different voice. "Y/n/n's never had a boyfriend before!"

Y/n shared a glance with Lockwood, and he opened his mouth to speak.

part 5

Tag list (I think this is everyone): @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @locklyebrainrot, @locknco, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife

let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the tag list! <3

[wh0refornikolailantsov]

Kaz Brekker x Reader

Taylor Swift Exile

Angst Vibes xx

I GOT YOU, TRUST ME I GOT YOU WITH THIS ONE. LIVING IN MY BRAIN RENT FREE. Also I lowkey love doing the song themed content with Kaz it makes my brain go brrrr

Leave Me With Ghosts - Kaz Brekker

Content Warnings: Canon Complaint Dysfunctional Relationship Portrayal. Angst. No Happy Ending. Second Choice Trope. Not Beta/Proof Read.

Apparently Happy Kaz Content Doesn't Seem To Be In My Drafts.

I can see you standing, honey

With his arms around your body

Laughin', but the joke's not funny at all

Kaz watches the way you're sat on the edge of a wall, hand on Jesper's shoulder, laughing away as he talks, all emphatic and dramatized gestures as always. Jesper spins one of is guns, faking a trigger pull to illustrate the story he is telling. Kaz knows none of you have spotted him yet. You lean across Jesper to pull something out a brown paper bag Wylan is holding, and you're quick to bring the pastry to your lips as you continue to smile at the two of them, Wylan cracking some kind of comment, laced with disagreement at Jesper's story. You look so comfortable at this distance, and Kaz does not doubt your acting is bested only by his own.

And it took you five whole minutes

To pack us up and leave me with it

Holding all this love out here in the hall

Kaz can hear your laugh, and it sends him back, to a quiet night in the slat, while you're explaining all the things you needn't and he is listening to the sound of your voice anyway. He should've been playing closer attention, at the time he thought it was to the work, but now he realises what he should have been playing closer attention to, was you.

I think I've seen this film before

And I didn't like the ending

You're not my homeland anymore

So what am I defending now?

You know Kaz is just out of sight, you've gotten used to the ways in which he makes his silence so loud. You're choosing to ignore it though, focus on your friends and the sound of their laughter, bringing out your own. If Kaz has something to say, he can come to you for it, you're done going to him, done seeking him out only to get yourself hurt for it. You knew that mistake was on your own hands, you'd reached for Kaz knowing he had told you how unreachable he was. You had hoped, you had hoped far too much, that maybe he was just saying those things to save you the fight you'd have to put up for him, and you'd put up a hell of one. But you couldn't keep it up. You had to choose you, even if it was crushing you.

You were my town

Now I'm in exile, seeing you out

I think I've seen this film before

"You're being watched like a hawk right now," Wylan says, face turned away from Kaz, the fear that he could hear him even at this distance Kaz could hear anything and everything Wylan might say.

"Or a crow," Jesper counters, pushing his hands in his pockets. "We can all tell you are avoiding him, you know?"

"Apparently he can't," you respond. You tap the pads of your fingers together.

"Oh, he knows," Jesper says, grabbing Wylan's arm.

"Oh, don't you dare," you start but Jesper is already guiding Wylan away, coaxing him from your presence with sweet talk and a wink. "I hate you," you mouth to Jesper and he just blows you a kiss before turning his back and dragging his boyfriend off down the street. Leaving you alone.

I can see you staring, honey

Like he's just your understudy

Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me

He watches Jesper and Wylan leave, and he knows they all saw him, you push back on your heels, and it's your tell that your waiting for him. To get it over with, to come out with it, it's your way of making it clear that he is coming to you and not the other way around. Your stubbornness makes him half proud, and half nervous. The kind of nervous that burns the throat and makes his skin twitch. His approach is slow, subtle but he knows you won't buy it for a moment.

Second, third, and hundredth chances

Balancing on breaking branches

Those eyes add insult to injury

You look at him and that quiet voice in the back of his mind is screaming, all those not so quiet desires. All those things he would rather not feel, all those things better kept buried. Everything he thought he was long past, rising as quickly as the waters in his mind the moment he is near you. How can being so close to someone fill him with such waves of wanting, and fear at the same time. It's a weakness to want something to badly that you reach for it, despite knowing what that might do to you. Kaz Brekker learnt that well enough, and that is a mistake he does not want to make again.

I think I've seen this film before

And I didn't like the ending

I'm not your problem anymore

So who am I offending now?

Kaz's eyes on you makes you want to scream, but you bite your tongue. You have loved Kaz longer than he has known you existed, you have watched him in his longing, in his regret, in the time that he waited for someone who wasn't coming home. You loved him in all of it, but he seemed only to love you in her absence, and even in that you know he would never let himself. It's not that you blame him, you understand his love for her at least, how could you not? Not loving her would truly be a worse crime you often think, but this strangeness between the two of you is a cruel torture you never asked for.

You were my crown

Now I'm in exile, seein' you out

I think I've seen this film before

So I'm leavin' out the side door

Kaz intended to be the first to speak, and Saints knows you wanted him to be, but you feel like you're waiting for wars to end watching him try to find the right words. "What do you want Brekker?" you ask.

So step right out, there is no amount

Of crying I can do for you

All this time

"I don't want anything," the words taste like regret as Kaz speaks them, and before he can find the right words to fix them the poison sets in.

"Of course you don't," you sigh, "I don't... I don't have the energy for this, or the time, or quite frankly the strength." You throw your arms up, exasperated, you want to cry, you feel like you might, but you won't not for Kaz, not again.

We always walked a very thin line

You didn't even hear me out

"Why can't you be honest? With me? With yourself?" You ask. You know the answer, you both do, but you ask as if he might, for once just be clear with you. You hope, and it's foolish to hope, but you do anyway, that this once he might just say the words. "Things would be so much easier, Kaz, if we were just honest with one another."

"Honesty isn't my currency," he says, looking at where his cane rests against the floor. "Secrets are."

(you didn't even hear me out)

It was never going to be the distance between you that hurt, but the way he looks at you and you watch the moments before he remembers who he is looking at, and who he isn't. A love that was always at arms length was something you could happily live with, something you have found yourself wanting. But the second best, the constantly wondering if each day could be the day he remembers her enough that forgetting you is not even an intention, just something he does on instinct.

You never gave a warning sign

Kaz is trying to ignore the barrel around him, trying to be present, attentive, if only for this, but his city is calling and he knows you see it in the way he shifts as he stands. You can never take the barrel out of the bastard, even if you somehow got the bastard out of the barrel, but he is intent on staying exactly where he is, in every manner of the phrase.

(I gave so many signs)

You worry everything will end up leaving Kaz alone, but then again a part of you is convinced that is what he truly wants, what he has always wanted. With no one to care for him, to hope for him, to want for him, he can be what he made himself into, with no remorse for what that means to those who love him, because there would be no one left to love him. You wonder if maybe that is truly his endgame, if someone can really want to be that alone. Or if the only company he ever really craved is gone and now he sees no value in anything, you don't doubt that's the easy answer.

All this time

I never learned to read your mind

"I'm weak for you," Kaz's mind screams at him, "weak for the sight of you, for your company, for the moments that we have never and will never have, how can you still not see that?" He says nothing, he just watches you, waiting for you to turn away, as you should, as you have to do.

(never learned to read my mind)

"Say something," your mind screams, but you won't ask him again, you won't beg for something from Kaz Brekker, you won't beg for answers, for attention, for anything. You can't.

I couldn't turn things around

"I will not wait for you to realise that you could never love anyone but her Kaz Brekker," you say. Kaz cannot help it, his blank expression slacks and he looks confused. Part of him is tearing at him, begging him to tell you "you're wrong, you're wrong," but he stays silent. For you. Because it's better this way. Better if you hate him, better if he doesn't hurt you anymore. "I know you well enough to know you never loved me, and I don't think you could, even if you wanted to." Lie. That lie is burning into his chest but he stays stiller than a corpse as he watches you turn. "This is better for you, this is better for you, it has to be," he tells himself over and over trying to drown out ever other piece of reasoning, every other option, trying to push it under the waters and keep it there, drown out all his own wants until there is only this choice, the choice he is adamant is for you.

(you never turned things around)

Your back is to him and you have to ask, you have to or you'll think about it every day. "Kaz Brekker, do you wish to be so unhappy, is it a choice, or are you truly that lost?"

'Cause you never gave a warning sign

"To drown in sorrow is more fulfilling than suffocate in pleasure most days," he says, and it might just be the last piece of honesty you can pull from him. And you are not push it further.

(I gave so many signs)

So many signs, so many signs

You didn't even see the signs

"Was that everything?" You ask and even that feels like too much of a branch, a last opportunity for him to say something more, words he will never say about things he will never really mean.

"No, it was nothing, and the everything still hovers just out of reach, where I suppose it belongs," Kaz sighs. "I suppose it is."

[poppitron360]

tbh i find you annoying but thats just my opinion. you're allowed to do whatever the fuck you want. good for you. my own opinion - based on petty standards and prejudice and a bit of jealousy - is not a reflection of reality and should not affect you. keep having fun.

also please don't block me because you're posting about something i like and it's not very well known and i just needed to get this out because id explode

… Okay?

This ask is fascinating to me and I have SO MANY QUESTIONS. Imma disect your comment like a lil bug real quick, if that’s okay with you?

If it doesn’t affect me why did you tell me? Like what was the purpose of telling me that you find me annoying? What validation does that give you?

Like you took all that time and effort to 1) seek out my blog 2) read enough of my posts to come up with a REALLY REALLY GOOD BURN LIKE WOW THAT IS SO CLEVER 3) Click on the ask button 4) write this comment 5) CHANGE THE FREAKING FONT- Like you went through the whole process of highlighting that line of text, clicking the “minimise” AND the “strikethrough” buttons and THEN 6) pressing send and you didn’t stop to think ONCE “hey… why the hell am I doing this?”

It always baffles me when people tell me these things like they think I’m not already painfully aware of it. Like I know that I’m annoying to some people THAT’S WHY I’M HERE!!! I have found the one community of people that find what I’m saying interesting!

I’m not posting for YOU I’m posting for THEM. You think I give a shit what you think about me? Are you THAT self-centred? Maybe my posts aren’t tailored to you, and that’s fine! Not everyone is making content specifically for your consumption, and might just be marketing to a different audience. If you’re not pickin’ up what I’m puttin’ down, that’s okay. Maybe I’m just not putting it down for your specific needs.

You know, before I joined Tumblr, a comment like this would have sent me SPIRALLING. But now I’ve realised that there is actually a place and a people to whom I am entertaining. I just gotta find the right audience.

One of my favourite inspirational quotes ever is by Einstein and it’s that “everyone is a genius, but if you judge a fish by it’s ability to climb a tree, it would think itself an idiot” or words to that effect. Yeah- my talent for spinning Leo Valdez round my brain like a candy-floss machine until it eventually turns into content isn’t necessarily “fun at parties” or useful for getting a job or good for… y’know… anything applicable to the Real World™️ but here I’ve found where I CAN put it to good use! And a year ago I didn’t have that.

Before Tumblr, my lil fishy body was struggling ‘er way up that tree. Here, I’ve found my ocean!

Not sure where this metaphor is going in relation to the topic of you finding me annoying… I guess fish me doesn’t feel like such an “idiot” now that I’ve found where I belong? Like I know that my talents are niche but SOMEONE likes ‘em. Actually quite a lot of people like ‘em, judging by my follower count. And I didn’t get this far by just having a cute cat pic as my pfp, but by actually building my skill and working hard! And I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished. SO FUCK YOU!!! HUZZAH!!!

I’m aware of how much of an asshole I sound like, but honestly? I am proud of myself. And my girl deserves her moment.

I feel a little bad responding guns-ablaze bc your hate comment was legitimately kinda nice and considerate?

But Also- how weird is this as a hate comment? Like you’re being insulting but you’re also saying you like my stuff? Geez, it says a lot about you that you can’t even send anon hate correctly.

If you wanna keep reading my stuff, go ahead! You just either gotta power through whatever weird complex you have about me, or just don’t read it. I don’t really see what good sending me this ask will do. Whatever gripe you have, put it aside. Like how I put aside your lack of capital letters in that comment, knowing that my stupid obsessive thing with Grammar shouldn’t affect how I treat other people, and that that is my OWN problem to deal with.

I’m being silly here. I’ve just never had the confidence to roast my haters before. I’ve never had haters to roast (online, anyway) so forgive my overzealousness. If you couldn’t tell- I was a theatre kid and still am…

In all seriousness, I like how self-aware you are that you’re being prejudiced and jealous. And I’m kinda curious as to what specifically you’re jealous of? But that’s just to boost my own ego.

I’m aware that I can be a little intimidating sometimes, particularly in a written form of socialisation. I like grammar, okay? I like rules and guidelines and careful, creative choices to show emotion and how you can break the rules in certain ways to give depth and nuance to the character and find the pattern of letters and characters to communicate what you’re feeling over a written format and-

If you couldn’t tell by all the fanfics I write- I also have a passion for writing.

Also, what specific prejudices? I’m genuinely intrigued. Is it specifically based off of one of the protective characteristics (under the 2011 Equality Act)? Or is it more just the way I behave? Or is it something I said? Like don’t be shy I don’t want vague I want DETAILS!!

And I realise that me writing a whole freaking dissertation on your comment just PROVES your point that I’m annoying but I. Don’t. Care. I’m having fun. I can’t help that I have a lot of Thoughts And Feelings about things. It’s just how my brain works. Also, it is currently 1:23am where I live, so brain go brrr. If you made it this far, anon, I salute you! Thank you for taking the time to hear me out even though you think I’m annoying. That’s honestly a good quality to have. Here, have a sweet 🍬

And I know that that was… intense, to say the least. Oh BOY do I know that I can be intense. But genuinely- GENUINELY- I’d love to sit down and have a discussion with you on this because it truly fascinates me how other people perceive me. And, if you’re comfortable coming out of anon (if not, that’s fine) I’d like to learn more about why you think these things. Not necessarily so that I can change- but it’d be a great opportunity to see what I can learn about myself through what you think at me. I know it seems like I’m mad- I’m really not! I’m just captivated by the world and how others look at me.

Anyway, thanks for hearing me out, and I hope to have good conversations with legitimate constructive criticism in many posts to come! Never stop being passionate. Just maybe direct your passion to something more positive. Thank you so much for the ask, this was a really good thought experiment for me.

[rj-orion]

"Found You." A short story by me!!

"I found you!!" I screeched at my sister as she emerged from her not so amazing hiding spot, "I always finding you! You suck at this game!"

My sister scoffed and rolled her eyes, momma says she'll see her brain one of these days, "You only find me because I let you!" Not a chance, she's just bad at hide and seek. Even if she's older than me.

"Nu-uh! Prove it! Hide really *really* good a-and I'll still find you!" She agrees to my terms and I start counting.

"60 seconds!" She tells over her shoulder as she runs away.

That's all it took. Just 60 seconds for my sister to disappear. I remember that day like it just happened, even after 20 years. I closed my little eyes and started counting, I wasn't that good at numbers yet, but I am now. I had visited our old house as soon as I got my investigation licence. Our parents still lived there, so it was nice to see them, but I was on the job.

I searched her old room, and mine. Mom and dad refused to change them at all. There was a thicker layer of dust on her stuff then there was on mine. I read her notebooks, her journals, her old computer still worked too so I searched that. Nothing all that useful though.

Siera wasn't very secretive, she told me everything, and told our parents even more. She couldn't lie if her life depended on it. That was fact.

I searched the house more than once, twice, even three times before deciding to move outside. Looking at the backyard made me feel way too big; this yard used to feel like a jungle when I was 7.

I started walking around the graveyard of painful bittersweet memories, grimacing with a sad smile at the place I had found her last. I had always felt guilty for telling her to hide again. She didn't have to listen to me, but she did. 'That's what big sisters do', she said.

I tried to think how she would think; where would I go, as an 12 year old, to hide from a 7 year old.

My first thought was the treeline, but police and dogs and even helicopters had gone over this forest maybe a hundred times so I decided to rule that option out.

The next thought was the cliffs. We lived in the mountains, no 7 year old would go to the cliffs...

So that's where I went.

The woods were thicker out here, like they didn't want to be walked into. Strangely enough; it got thinner as quick as it had gotten thicker, and the woods were normal again, albeit a little quiet.

It's about midday when I realise I'd been walking for a while. I didn't know the woods were so vast back here; I thought I'd surely have reached the mountains by now.

I paused to take note of my surroundings; trees, weird rock, more trees, a small puddle from the recent rain storm, more trees.. it felt like it was going on forever. I checked my watch to see how much longer I could be out here and–

"What the hell.." I muttered, confused. My watch said 8:45, the exact same time I had walked into the woods back at the house, "Goddamn smart watch.. I probably don't have good connection.." I sighed heavily and shook my head, figuring that I'd just need to judge it based on the sun.

I was about to keep walking when I heard what sounded like a woman's voice far out to my left; against my better judgement and my knowledge I yelled out a simple 'Hello?', only to get silence in return. I shrugged and kept walking, it was most likely a bird.

I kept hearing that woman, she sounded like she was getting closer the more I walked and she sounded like she needed help. 'Shes on my path, why not check it out..' I found myself thinking. And then I found myself walking a little faster; an uneasy feeling started to settle under my skin. Like the unhinged and more deranged cousin of goosebumps.

Then I was running. I wasn't sure what started it; the birds started getting really loud, a heard something big run through the forest–probably a bear–and then, all of a sudden, everything went still.

No more birds. I stopped running, almost tripping. The only sound was 2 pairs of ragged breathing. Mine, and...

A felt a gust of hot air on my back and the smell of rancid, rotting meat fill my nose. I quickly turned around to see—

There she stood; 15 feet tall. Her hair was the only thing that distinguished her. Long and deep, deep red. Her other features were...long gone. Her skin was replaced and stretched over a lengthy, bony body, and it had blackened to the colour of obsidian.

She didn't have a face anymore. In it's place was a long, uneven and cracked, pale white skull. Branch like antlers shot out from either side of her head. This wasn't my Siera anymore, but still...

"I found you, again.."

[spyroid101]

Hortus Infernal: “She loved me, once...”

...So one day I apparently got the rabid need to write some Angst & Hurt/Comfort, and my brain decided “Today, you’re making this Jestdeer cry on BOTH sides of their face!”

Sooo...Here ya go, spontaneous stream of consciousness Hortus Infernal Banban AU oneshot... that just might end up just COMPLETELY non AU canon by the time Banban 4 actually comes out and we see these characters in action. Who knows?! I’m just rolling with what makes the brain go brrr~

Warnings for abuse and injuries. 

Nothing too detailed, but... they’re there, so take care.

"Ss-so you... escaped..." The Jester rasped. "I'mmm not... s-surprised... You're... much too clever for her... Much too..."

You felt a cold knot coil in your stomach at how the room was splattered in the black ichor you'd long come to know made up these demon's blood...

All coming from that... that damn Jester, that had been the biggest, most annoying pain in your ass for the past who knows HOW long. Their once intimidating seven foot tall stance now looking so incredibly small, all crumpled pathetically in the corner of the room.

"I know... You can laugh, if it makes you feel better..." They kept an eye locked on you, only displaying the forever smiling right side of their face, but the true tone of their voice was clearly the whimpering tones of the left side, that they seemed desperate to try and hide against the wall. "...Unless I'm... not even fit enough to be used for malice..."

"What...?" You finally manage to find your voice. "What happened...?"

This- this didn't feel like something Toadster would have done, at least, that wasn't the impression you'd gotten from the short time you'd known him.

One of the other demons you'd just released from containment, maybe? As revenge for helping the Queen in getting them locked up? Was Banbaleena on a bloody rampage, or either of the Nabs? Hell, maybe even Tarta-?

"She wasn't... In the explaining mood..." The Jester's voice cut through your thoughts. "But seeing as... you're here right now... I have to assume, I'm just a failure, as usual..."

"...'She'...?" The light bulbs were starting to flicker on in your head, and you wished you could just rip them out of the sockets and smash them against the floor.

Bouncelia? She- she did this, to her own-?

"Why...are you here...?" Their voice sounded shaky, like they were afraid of the answer you'd give.

"I'm- I-" You desperately tried to get your now even more frantic thoughts back in line. "She still has Castor. I- I need to go back and-"

"Right...The Stolas... Of course..." The Jester's voice quavered, but quickly, they forced the more upbeat voice of their right side to take over. "W-well, as I assume you-you're in a hurry, you're in l-l-luck!"

Slowly, shakily, as if they really, really didn't want to, they stretched out their feathered wing.

"Th-the self healing's almost done h-here, ss-s-so..." Their trembling got worse, as they further pressed their left side into hiding. "With...it out of commission, my mobility will be decreased... a-a good... forty-eight percent! More than adequate!"

"Wh-?"

"A n-new break will... will take a good... few hours to re-mend..." They took a steadying breath. "If I... might be so bold to request: just a single... quick, clean break at the elbow joint? It'll still do the job-"

"NO!" You exclaimed in horror, that knot in your stomach now tossing and turning, as if it were trying to claw up out of your insides.

"...Fair. I am not... in any position to make demands, after all..." They mumbled, sounding defeated as they finally dropped their gaze from you. "G-go on, then... However you wish-"

Whatever else was said, it was lost as you suddenly turned heel and sprinted out of the room.

God DAMN it, it had to be some kind of trick! A trap! It just- HAD to-

And yet, feeling as if you were on autopilot, you found yourself snatching up any loose tarp and cloth you laid your eyes on, even managing to rip down one of the Queen Bouncelia banners, before returning to the room.

They only gave you a momentary glace, before averting it again.

"...I won't retaliate, you needn't bother with restraints-"

"That's not-!" Your gut clenched as your raised voice caused them to flinch. "...I'm not looking to hurt you..."

"Then just what... are... you doing?"

A part of you... was asking that yourself.

All the same, you found yourself kneeling beside the Jester, one of the cloths bundled up in your hand. Slowly, steadily, you pressed it up against one of the still seeping gashes on their side.

"Oh, shi- did I just make it worse?" You asked as their body tensed.

"I- No?" They said, voice full of weary confusion. "I-If you're trying to-"

"I'm not." You restated, firmly.

"...No." They finally repeated after a pause, once again going slack. "Just... reflex."

You nodded, and went about securing the cloth in place.

"You know these will eventually heal on their own..." They mumbled. "You're wasting your time..."

"No, I'm not." You said, grabbing another cloth. "Now, let me see your-"

"If you don't plan on running on ahead without that Stolas, you are." They reiterated, a soft growl to their voice. "Human, if you give her time to get her plan of attack back in order-"

"Your face." You interrupted. You couldn't stomach getting talked out of this now, you just- you couldn't. "Let me see your face."

"...It's right here." They stated flatly, widening their sharp toothy Cheshire grin.

Good. The damn deer being a pain in the ass was more familiar territory to you.

"Funny. Really." You rolled your eyes. "I mean your whole face, c'mon..."

You reached out, touching your fingertips to their chin, gently coaxing them to turn their head.

They hesitated for a moment, before relenting, finally letting the left side of their face be seen.

The left side's eternal frown was twisted into a pained grimace, black blood leaking down from the lips, as well as their nostril. Their eye was practically swollen shut, what little bit of the sclera you could see blackened by being bloodshot, as tears streamed down their face.

"God..." You couldn't help but breathe.

"Not like it was ever my good side." They teased. Or, at least seemed to try to. Their heart wasn't in it.

You swallowed thickly, urging yourself to stop gawking and keep moving as you softly pressed the cloth against the left side of their face, slowly and gently wiping away the blood and tears.

You paused, as they let out a sigh, and leaned their head into the touch, before going still.

For a moment, you began to worry they'd just blacked out, when you suddenly noticed the pinpricks of tears now also starting to from in their right eye.

"...She loved me, once, you know..." They whispered. "Whenever she smiles, I remember that... But I suppose after several lifetimes, the humor starts to fail..."

You felt yourself start to shake. From sorrow or anger, you weren't completely sure...

For damn sure, you were feeling BOTH.

"That... That doesn't excuse... this..." You managed to speak past the lump forming in your throat. "Nothing... Excuses this..."

"...No, I suppose it doesn't..."

A few more seconds of silence pass, until you feel their hand nudge yours. Taking the cue, you allow them to take hold of the cloth, so they could take control of cleaning their own face.

"If you were just... doing this in order to try and acquire an ally... I'm sorry to disappoint you..." Their eyes avert yours. "The pact that was made... The part of me she holds in her possession... It's a strong one. When she calls, I have no choice but to answer-"

"It's fine, don't worry about it." You answer, firmly.

"Then... even though I won't lie, and it will only waste your time, and sabotage your efforts..." They pause, as if struggling to truly decide if they should continue. "If I might request... Sit beside me... just... for a bit longer-"

"Of course."

You don't even need to give it a second thought, and quite frankly... you could use the rest yourself, as well.

As you gingerly sat down besides them, you briefly wondered how close they exactly wanted to to sit-

"Woah-!"

-When that was pretty much answered for you, as they leaned over, completely resting their head atop of yours.

"I'm... very tired, human..." They mumbled.

"Yeah, I- I can tell..." You squirm a bit, attempting to make the position at least a little more comfortable for you. "So, uh... Since we're apparently getting rather... close, I suppose I should ask... You got a name?"

"Of course."

You wait, expecting them to elaborate...

...They do not.

"Uhhm... Gonna... let me know what it is...?"

"Ahh, you meant a name here... In which case, not really, no."

...And they fall silent again.

"You're, uh... Going to have to elaborate." You raised an eyebrow. "Like, I should know what I could call you... besides 'Stupid Deer', and all..."

"A true name." They give a little raspy snort of laughter. "We all have true names. True names have power, and no Demon is stupid enough to give them to the Summoners. So, they decide what they wish us to be called during our contract... Or, did you actually think a denizen of Hell reigned terror under a name like 'Banban'?"

You're glad their position doesn't allow them to see the flush that flashes across your face, because... yeah, you maybe... kinda...

Absolutely did...

All the same, your lack of answer seems to give all the answer they need, as they let out a few more chuckles.

"Either way..." They continued. "They'd only summoned her, and my pact is what dragged me along. They had plans for her, and not me, but still I was there. So they just... labeled me as her Jester, and left it at that..."

"I see..." You mumbled. "Guess that... doesn't really help me figure out what to call you, though, huh?"

The only reply they give is a soft hum. ...

...Okay, the weight leaning against you was really starting to become an issue.

You squirm and try to find some way to properly brace yourself, without either toppling over completely, or pushing on any of their wounds. Your efforts seemed to go unnoticed, as the Jester neither made comment, nor moved to try and assist you.

You eventually give up, resorting to try and, politely, push on their chest in hopes that they'll back off just a bit-

...When you noticed... something... missing...

It took you a moment to really pinpoint it, but the complete, cold, stillness under your hand...

...There was no heartbeat.

While you wouldn't be shocked if some of these creatures could still function without a heart, every one you'd had extensive contact with so far had possessed a heartbeat!

Castor, all the Fiddles flying around, Tarta, even Nabnaleena-!

'The part of me she holds in her possession...'

It's at that moment , your memory draws back to Queen Bouncelia, and the staff she'd held, the way you were able to hear a pulsing coming from within the ordainment at the top...

"Your heart..." You spoke your thoughts aloud. "She... has your heart, doesn't she?"

"...A powerful pact, indeed..." They finally spoke again. "One I made in a lifetime when I was young, mortal, stupid...In love ... That has stretched on in every single lifetime since, and will continue, even after this is over, however the outcome..."

You silently mull over their words, allowing them to sink in...

...And fuel your resolve.

"No, it won't." You state, firmly. "I came here to get my child back, yes... But I don't plan on just leaving you all here like this, either. I'm... I'm going to help. Castor, Seline-"

'Banban?'

Your voice falters on the name... Honestly, you're still not sure how trustworthy he truly is...

...But that was going to be a mental dilemma you were going to have to sort out another time. For now, you just knew none of them deserved to have this fate.

"-I'm going to figure out how to get you all home, so... that means I'm going to help YOU as well, pact and all..." You pause. "...Somehow."

The Jester finally stops leaning on you, pulling back to be able to see your face, forms of a quizzical expression managing to come across both sides of theirs.

"You are...endlessly perplexing, human..." They chuffed. "I hope you don't find me not holding my breath rude... but the thought is a warm one, all the same."

"I mean it!"

"I know you do..." They turned their head once again to hide away the left side of their face, to be sure you clearly got the smile. "And... for whatever I may be forced to do next... Just know there isn't any malice in the actions I take."

You nod in understanding, and the Jester seems satisfied with that as an answer.

They then proceeded to move to stand up. You almost find yourself protesting, seeing their legs shake like a newborn fawn's, but its only a few moments before before they get it under control, and stand back up at their full, towering, seven foot height.

Seems they were right, the wounds healed up on their own... but you still hoped you'd helped make the experience at least... a little more comfortable to put up with...

"Now, then..." They said, reaching a hand down in an offer to help you up as well. "I've already taken up quite a bit of your busy schedule, and you've got quite a few beings depending on you."

You accept the hand, and stifle a gasp at just how effortlessly they manage to hull you up to your feet, singled handed. You're reminded, once again, just how strong these creatures are...

...And try your best not to think too hard about how strong Bouncelia must be in comparison, in order to be able beat the Furfur down to their earlier, frightened, broken state...

"...Actually, one thing before you go..."

Suddenly, the Jester used their grip on your hand to pull you in, super close, leaning their head down, you felt their cold nose touch your ear and-!

A... whis...per...?

A single word was spoken. To you, and you alone. You knew it was a word, but at the same time, it was like sand, your brain struggling to grasp and make sense of what exactly it was, sending shocking flashes of hot and cold through your spine, every time you came close.

...No, no. It wasn't just a word.

It was a name!

"J-Ja-" You attempt once again to enunciate what you just heard, only to be shushed by a finger pressed to your lips.

"Hey, don't go just spreading that around now, okay?" You nod, still unable to get your brain to form other words, and the Jester frees your lips again. "...It's not more powerful than my pact, it won't be able to save you from me there... but, if you're still insistent on going back to the Kingdom for your Stolas, and on the... slim chance should you somehow survive and make it further down... and the need truly arises..."

"I'll call..." You say, finally starting to get your words back.

They give your hand a small squeeze in acknowledgement, before finally letting go.

"Now, I do believe you have a little Stolas to rescue~" They said in a singsong voice, preforming a little bow. "Best of luck to you, human~"

"You, too." You say, before turning to book it out of the room.

Your task list had just grown quite a bit more complicated, now having to add "Figure out how to break an ancient pact" to the pile...

...But if being a single parent for four years hadn't stopped you from dealing with an ever growing laundry list of disasters before, this new development certainly was not going to be the thing that finally broke your streak!

[oopsallfanfic]

Chapter 23: Moving Day

A/N: This chapter contains suggestive imagery. Also sorry for being super late, my month has been crazy weird. We're going to U.A. this next chapter, so stick around to see how that goes.

Katsuki may have been more excited for you to have your own place than you did, he even helped you unpack your things. He watched you as he opened a box, your hair falling in your eyes and your lip tucked in as you focused on your work. You were trying to get the frame on the wall to be straight, but no matter how many times you shifted it, the poster always seemed to be crooked. You dig in your box of useful tools hoping that something would help. As you rummaged, Katsuki looped behind you and removed the frame to see that you had been attaching the flat hook to the lip of the frame rather than the bracket or thin wire provided.

“(Y/N)…” Katsuki sighed. You hummed at the sound of your name, still rummaging through the box. “Hammy,” He called for you once again. You turned to see him holding the poster to his chest and pointing at the two ways to hold the frame, “This is how you hang it, dumbass.”

“What do you mean? I hung it on the bracket, why the hell did you remove it? I was just about to fix it,” holding up a roll of tape.

“I took it off 'cause you can’t hang a damn poster without my help,” He took the wire and dangled it on the flat hook the nail kept on the wall.

“I can too asshole.” You huff and watch as he easily hangs the poster and adjusts it to make it straight. He steps back next to you with arms folded over his chest, a cocky smile plastered on his face. 

“See-“ he’s cut off by the punch you land on his shoulder. He chuckles lightheartedly and rubs the spot.

“I could have figured that out easily,” You grumbled.

“I guess having the 2nd best overall grades isn’t much if you need #1’s help with hanging a poster.”

“Are you forgetting I beat you in Chem?” You stuck out your tongue and looped around him to the mirror propped against the wall. 

“That’s only because you had to study outside of class for your quirk,” he snapped. 

“So you admit that I’m better?” You hammered the nail into the wall where you wanted the mirror, adjusting the hook as needed. 

“At chemistry,” Katsuki rolled his eyes as he bent over to pick the mirror off the floor. 

“I’ll take it,” you shrug, and step back. Katsuki put the mirror on the hook and stepped back with you, throwing an arm casually over your shoulder. You looped an arm around his back, pulling him close to your side.

Katsuki’s touch was more comfortable to you now. When the two of you first started dating it was still hard for you to wrap your mind around the fact that the snarky asshole you had kept at a distance was actually sweet and caring.  His touch had felt strange at first in a subtle way but now he was more tame. It was weird to use that word in this context but it was the best way you could describe his attitude change when it came to you. Fortunately, he didn’t change how much of a smart ass he was, a key factor behind why you liked him.

“This feels…” Katsuki searched for the right word in his mind.

“Domestic,” You provided. Looking over to him you could see the red in his cheeks as a look of disbelief spread across his face.

“I am not domesticated!” He scoffed.

“I didn’t say domesticated,” You retort.

Before you could explain yourself, Katsuki primed his fingers and aimed for your sides. His fingers expertly poked and prodded at your sides as you tried to swing them off, cackling with fits of laughter as he tickled you. His attack was relentless and you did the only thing you could think of with the minimum oxygen getting to your brain. Run. With a final sweep of your hand to smack Katsuki’s own, you were able to retreat to your bedroom with Katsuki in pursuit right behind you. Before you could turn to shut the door, he closed the distance in a few quick strides. You backed up quickly to avoid getting caught and hit the back of your foot against the mattress sitting on the floor. You tripped over the soft surface and fell back on the naked mattress, Katsuki took the opportunity to straddle your hips and attack from above. He barely gave you any time to breathe before he hopped on top, as he towered over you the only thing you thought could help you now was to plead. With closed eyes, you struggle between breaths to place your palms together and croak out please, once you did though you could feel Katsuki’s weight shift above you. As you slowly opened your eyes your breathing returned to normal. Katsuki still straddled your hips when you looked up, his chest heaving from his own fits of laughter and a smile plastered on his face.

“Little shit,” You smirked and punched his side softly.

Katsuki breathed an airy laugh and held the spot you punched him as he rolled off of you.

The apartment your grandparents found you was nicer than you expected. The building was only accessible by the main entrance, except from emergency exits of course, and had a doorman most hours of the day. A call box was situated in the mail room, the only publicly accessible space, and a set of locked glass doors separated the two rooms unless activated by a tenant. The space itself was comfortable for one, a small genkan area with a shoe cupboard and a shelf alcove above it, a toilet space with a large sink surface, and a wide tub in the bathroom. Your bedroom was even larger than your parents’ back home, albeit more empty than theirs. Though the bed you found yourself on took up a decent amount of space. Spreading your arms across the width of the bed you were hardly able to touch either side of the large squishy surface. When the news was official, your father allowed you a small budget to help decorate your apartment which you promptly sunk into a nicer bed and sheets. Your grandparents had even offered a few pieces of furniture from a hotel they were refurbishing, so the apartment was set with plush modern pieces. Thankful was what you felt for the generosity of your grandparents and father's aid, but you still couldn’t feel quite comfortable in the place you’d call home.

“Your place is pretty close to campus,” Katsuki’s voice brought you out of your thoughts. His tone was suggestive as he continued, “Maybe I’ll spend the night sometime.”

“Oh?” You turned to face him, his head propped up in his hand as he stretched across the length of the bed. “Pray tell, what exactly would we do during these little sleepovers?”

“Well, I was thinking,” Katsuki sighed softly as he drew closer to you and slid a hand across the expanse of your stomach to rest. Skin crawling at the anticipation of another tickling attack. When you realize none would commence you welcome the arm sliding under your neck. Katsuki’s arm lay under your head, bringing the warmth of his body close to you. “We could do some of this,” He leaned over and brushed your lips gently. A rush of heat spread from your chest as he peppered your cheek with kisses, leaving a trail to your neck. As he approached the sensitive skin you could feel the tension in your groin grow, longing to be touched the way you read in so many fan-fiction’s. “And maybe some of this,” A soft moan escaped your lips as he pressed softly against your neck, Katsuki took that as a cue to continue. His teeth nipped at your lobes, and as your breathing began to grow heavier he moved a hand up to cup your breast then moved his lips down to your collarbone. Just as his hand began to squeeze, the jarring chime of your cell phone broke the hot and heavy atmosphere. Katsuki wasn’t phased, his hand still pawing at your tits and clawing your hair as his lips left subtle bruises against your chest. You slipped the phone out of your pocket quickly, the caller ID showing your grandparents were calling from their home phone.

“I got to take this,” Your voice was deep and breathy as Katsuki continued. The debate in your mind to tell him to stop was short-lived before you decided that the conversation wouldn’t be very long if you had any say in the matter. As you answered the phone, Katsuki smoothly pivoted himself to hold you between his legs again. His body bent down as he slid hands under your shirt to raise it and pepper your abdomen with kisses, his breath tickled your skin making you squirm between his legs. “Hello? Hi,” You say as best as you can, “I just got finished moving around some boxes, sorry if I sound out of breath.”

“Oh, don’t worry dear,” Your grandmother’s sweet voice over the phone would kill most people’s moods but yours was still going strong as Katsuki���s hands moved to your back to unclasp your bra. “This won’t be long, I just wanted to see if we could catch dinner this week.”

“This week?” You look down to see dazzling rubies flutter at you innocently as a hand stretches the bra against your body. The clasp was undone but the straps stayed in place under your shirt. Katsuki’s hand slipped under the restraint and rubbed the pebble buried underneath tenderly. “I start classes this week, but I’m sure we can meet sometime after I’ve gotten my schedule figured out.”

“Well I was hoping to see you Friday, I’m sure you can work that out since you won’t be in school the next few days after that.” You could tell by the tone of her voice she wouldn’t leave you alone until you decided on a day to meet her for dinner, though you really just wanted to keep feeling Katsuki’s hands run up and down your skin.

“Yeah,” Your voice breathy as teeth grazed your sides.

“I’ll write that down then, Friday at 7 pm. Be at the Aux Crieurs de Vin in Toyohashi, please wear something formal and be on time. Please call again soon, goodbye!” The line went dead as she finished her sentence. She seemed rushed near the end but you couldn’t bother with thinking about her quick call when a hand reached around your waist and squeezed your ass. You tossed the phone onto the floor and stripped your shirt and bra off in one quick movement, leaving your chest exposed.

Katsuki followed your lead and even went as far as rolling off of you to strip out of his pants. You mimicked his movements and stopped to stare at the plain cotton panties on your hips. He sensed your hesitation and began to sit up slowly, a hand touching your arm gently.

“We don't have to if you don’t want to,” There was a twinge of worry in his voice as he spoke, not sure if he had pressured you into something you didn’t want to do in the first place. 

“N-no, no,” You stutter and shook your head, “It’s not that, it’s just... I feel like maybe we should take this slowly.”

“I can get behind that,” Katsuki scooted closer to you and reached a hand across you to pull his shirt over your chest.

“Maybe we can just look at each other, ya know, naked,” You suggested, pulling the shirt back off of you. 

Katsuki hummed curiously as he watched you unceremoniously leap up and drop your panties. He sat up on his knees and took you in, every inch of exposed skin beginning to ingrain itself into his memory. You waved a hand at him suggesting it was his turn.

“Alright, alright,” Katsuki felt more embarrassed this way somehow, he knew either way you’d see him naked but being observed naked was different.

Katsuki stretched the underwear past his member and let them fall much like yours did. You studied the curve of his arms and legs as they ran into his torso, his chest was wider than you expected. Katsuki’s pecks led to a fairly thin waist and strong legs. His engorged appendage was even a little larger than you had expected. You’d only seen one penis in real life, it had supposedly been average, but you didn’t have anything to compare at the time. It was strange observing someone’s physical features so closely, but it made you feel more comfortable in the presence of his nakedness. You walked across the room to pull a blanket from a box, one of many your father sent along, and lay on top of the naked mattress. Katsuki followed your lead and slipped under the blanket with you, his arm being your pillow once more as he pulled you close. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise as his member prodded your side. His hips shot back at the touch of your body.

“Sorry,” He muttered, “It’ll go away, just give me some time.”

“No worries,” You said, scooting back into his body. No longer surprised by the stiff company between you. Before long sleep had found you in the comfort of Katsuki’s arms.

It was different waking up to someone in your arms, for one it was entirely too hot. You ripped off the sweaty blanket and spun around on your butt to slap bare feet against the cool wooden floor. The early spring morning shone pale pink and orange hues into the barren bedroom. You turned to see Katsuki rolling over on his side, still fast asleep even as the sun began to peak. You leaned over and ran a hand through his hair affectionately, making him stir in his sleep.

“Mom, stop, just 5 more minutes.” Katsuki gently whacked your hand away from him and turned to roll his back in your direction.

You stifle a laugh and stood to make your way to the bathroom. It was early for a bath so you elected to take a quick shower to rinse the sweat and grime from your body. Once you finished, you clambered out of the bathroom looking frantically for your robe. With a hand across your chest, you wandered from box to box trying to find the robe. When you made it to the bedroom Katsuki sat on the bed with crossed legs looking at his phone, the robe you were looking for gently draped over him.

“I’ve been looking for that,” You whine.

“Well, you found it,” Katsuki spread his arms wide, the robe pulling away to show his exposed body. Your eyes flashed down at his flacid penis out of morbid curiosity. What you saw was not what you had expected it to look like. What was an innocent peak at his junk turned into a full stare, leading Katsuki to wrap the robe around him tight as he could.

“Hey, don’t look that hard,” Blush colored Katsuki’s cheeks as he followed your line of sight.

“Sorry!” You pivoted and turned to your closet to hide the stifled chuckle, rummaging through drawers for underwear.

“It’s not that interesting, I can assure you,” Katsuki shuffled around behind you.

“What do you wanna do today?” You asked as you pulled up your jeans, “We have one more day of freedom before school starts, maybe we can go out?”

“Do you wanna go out?” Katsuki slipped his shirt over his head and made his way over to you.

“Maaaybe,” You said in a sing-song voice, then an idea popped up in your mind. “Or we can watch the Star Wars series!” You turned to see his hesitant smile, Katsuki’s eyes already glazed over at the thought of sitting through 6 long movies. “Or we can go out, it’s still early so we can figure it out over breakfast.”

“We have to go grocery shopping first, I don’t think you had anything in the fridge.” Katsuki pointed out as he made his way out to the kitchen.

“No, there shouldn’t be at least,” You slipped on your shirt and followed him. When he opened the fridge it was as bare as expected. 

“Well first task of the day: acquire groceries,” He said, promptly shutting the fridge. Katsuki’s phone rang from where it sat on the kitchen counter alongside his keys. He picked it up to see his mother’s caller ID, making him grimace. “I forgot to tell her I was staying out. She’s going to be mad for so many reasons…”

“I’ll let you take that then,” You said, retreating to the bedroom once more.

While you sorted through your belongings, Katsuki paced in the kitchen as he spoke to his mother. Or rather he bit his tongue as she chided him.

“You could’ve texted at least!” Mitsuki exclaimed on the other line, “I hope you didn’t do anything you’ll regret in the future-“

“Mom!” Katsuki whispered harshly.

“I’m just saying,” Mitsuki went on, “A lot of young couples have some happy little accidents that they have to raise.”

“Nothing happened, I can assure you.” Katsuki huffed irritably, “We unpacked her things and I fell asleep here, that’s all.”

“Okay,” She said in a sing-song voice, “If you say so. Just get home soon, we have lunch with your grandparents today. Remember?”

“Right,” Katsuki winced and looked back at your bedroom door where you were shuffling through your things and putting them away. “I’ll be home soon then.”

“Love you, I’ll see you in a bit,” Mitsuki blew a kiss before the line ended.

Katsuki shoved his things in his pockets and knocked on your door gently. You were unfolding a box to be recycled and setting it in a small stack on the floor. At the sound of him shuffling in you looked up from your task.

“Looks like I got to head home,” Katsuki said, the look of annoyance on his face told you he’d rather not. “I got to get ready for lunch with my grandparents.”

“Oh, okay,” You were a bit disappointed to see him go so soon but you understood, “Tell your family I said hello, and that I’m sorry for stealing you all night.”

“I’ll be back soon, maybe I can come after school tomorrow before going home?” Katsuki suggested.

“Sounds like a plan,” You smiled and wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into a tight hug. He kissed your head and held your hand as the two of you walked to the front door. Katsuki quickly shoved his shoes on and gave you another quick kiss before leaving.

[darry-rules]

Diplopia

“How the hell am I supposed to memorize all of this?” I texted my girlfriend.

Century-old floorboards creaked beneath me as I paced back and forth nervously.

“It’s gonna be fine,” she responded. “You got this.”

I sighed. It felt like a thousand rubber bands were wound tight around the base of my skull, slowly squeezing every last bit of meaningful focus out of me. I knew I had to do well on this test. Anything less than an 80% would surely get me dropped from the class and if I got dropped from the class, I knew that I would never end up becoming a paramedic. And if I never became a paramedic, I knew that I would never end up pushing myself. And if I never pushed myself, I knew that I would never end up amounting to anything. And if I never amounted to anything, I knew that I would spend the rest of my life forever regretting the courage I never had. So, yeah, no pressure.

“You’re right,” I lied, texting her exactly what I thought she wanted to hear.

I appreciated the support, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes you just want to be a sad sack of shit, you know? Plus, I don’t think she understood just how screwed I truly was.

“I got to hit the books, I’ll text you later,” I followed up with.

Realistically I knew that I probably had no more than two hours of good work left in me. I had been studying non-stop for the last few months and was on the verge of mental collapse. But I figured if I could get just one more chapter in today then I would at least have a fighting chance. So, grabbing my textbook, I took a seat at my desk and got back to work.

I was elbow-deep in dysrhythmia review when a loud bang suddenly pierced the silent stillness that filled my apartment. My heart skipped a beat as my brain fought to process this abrupt shift in auditory perception. The building I lived in was nearly one hundred and fifty years old so I had grown rather accustomed to its chronic creaks and cracks, but this was different. This sounded intentional. Assuming that it was nothing more than my shady downstairs neighbor though, I quickly brushed it off and went back to studying.

“A QRS complex with a bizarre appearance and a duration of 0.12 seconds or more signifies some abnormality in conduction through the ventricles. A bundle branch block is a type of intraventricular conduction defect involving impaired conduction from the Bundle of His to one or more of the bundle branches. A blockage at the level of the….”

A second bang rang out.

“For Christ’s sake,” I mumbled, slamming my book shut.

A seething sense of irritation swept through me as I got up from my desk. Not picking up his dog’s shit was one thing, but acting a fool a few days before one of the most important tests of my entire life was unacceptable. I was not about to let anyone, especially this asshole, ruin what I had worked so hard to achieve. I was going to pass that test even if it killed me.

Letting out another sigh, I staggered over to the bathroom. I wanted to make sure it was actually him before I did anything drastic. Plus, I had cannulated my foot an hour or so earlier in a procrastinatory effort to practice my IV skills and now had five hundred milliliters of normal saline compressing my bladder.

I listened carefully as I loomed over the toilet. My bathroom sat directly above his bedroom so I figured if I was going to pinpoint the source of the sound this was the best place to be. I didn’t get much chance to investigate though as three more bangs rang out in quick succession. Only, this time they were exponentially louder.

“Dammit,” I cursed.

To my surprise they didn’t sound like they were coming from the apartment below me though. Rather they sounded like they were coming from somewhere beside me. Shit, if I didn’t know any better, I would have thought they were coming from Claudette’s place, Unit 4.

I had lived next to Claudette for the last eighteen months and admittedly knew next to nothing about her. I knew she was a nurse, originally from New Orleans, drove a silver Jeep Renegade, and used lavender fabric softener, but that was about it. Outside of that she was more or less a perfect stranger.

Unlike the pain in the ass below me though, who had been running what sounded like a lawnmower off and on for the past few days, I never had any issues with Claudette. She was quiet, she was clean, and she kept to herself. In fact, prior to today, I hadn’t heard a single peep from her. Regardless, the bangs were very clearly coming from her side of the wall and I knew that if I didn’t do something, I would never pass my exam. So, after finishing up my business, I washed my hands and made my way out into the kitchen.

A large bay window adorns the far wall of my dining room. Sitting parallel to my kitchen table, it serves as the unofficial focal point of my sad little domicile. From it, you can see practically everything: the front yard, the parking lot, most of the side yard, and even the vast majority of Secretary Frazier Street. My buddies and I always joke that if shit were to ever hit the fan it would serve as the perfect sniper’s nest. One that would put even the Texas School Book Depository to shame.

So, taking my spot in front of the window, I peered out into the expanse of land laid out before me. I scoured the porch, the driveway, the train tracks, the neighbor’s yard, and as far up the street as I could, looking for any potential sources behind these bangs. But to my dismay, I found nothing. No Claudette, no shady neighbor, no wandering meth head, no mangy mutt, no feral tomcat, nothing. Nothing at all.

Defeated, I wandered back to my bedroom and took a seat on the bed. Two thick fleece blankets were stretched wide across the back windows, blotting out the afternoon sun and shrouding the space in a lair-like darkness. Looking around, I realized just how truly depressing the place had become. In the span of just four months, it had gone from a normal bachelor pad to something more akin to a medieval dungeon.

I pulled back the blankets and was met with the spectacular image of fiery red hills rolling across my backyard. Its views like this that remind me why people don’t leave this godforsaken place. You can take the boy out of the hills, but you can’t take the hills out of the boy.

It took me a few sweeps to finally locate the perp, but once I did, I knew exactly who it was. Standing directly in front of the dumpster, with her back turned towards me, was Claudette. Being the only black woman in town, it was more or less a dead giveaway. Her ebony skin and long black braids might as well have been alien features here in Whitesburg, a place whose name is ever fitting.

Speaking of Whitesburg, it is about as Podunk as you can get. Situated in the heart of coal country, it serves as the unofficial frontline of the war on the American Dream. A place where fentanyl, booze, meth, and poverty reign supreme.

The more I watched Claudette though the less typical townie I saw in her. She didn’t have the same slumped stance of a dope fiend nor the stereotypical shaky gait of a boozehound. Rather she stood perfectly erect and perfectly still. Frankly a little too erect and little too still. In her arms, she clutched a red bundle, one which she cuddled close like a mother might an infant. She stood like this for a whole minute straight. Two whole minutes straight. Three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine whole minutes straight without even the slightest flinch.

I took off my glasses and rubbed my eyes.

Since day one of medic school, I had been balls to the wall, foot on the gas, stressing hard over every medication dose, cardiac rhythm, and trauma protocol. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I had taken a night off and it showed.

I put my glasses on and looked back out into the yard below. My gaze zeroed in on the dumpster, but to my surprise Claudette was nowhere to be found. All that remained was a red sweatshirt that hung limply from its lid.

My pocket buzzed.

“Dinner is five minutes out, got your favorite,” a text from my girlfriend read.

A Crunchwrap Supreme, chicken quesadilla, and Code Red Mountain Dew. I was one lucky son of a bitch.

I was just about to text her back when a muffled voice rang out from somewhere back behind me.

“What are you doing, baby?” The voice yelled.

Living in a glorified slum, I heard random voices all the time. The voices of strung-out junkies, sleazy call girls, bratty kids, and pissed off wives regularly rattled the roof of my ancient apartment. But much like the boisterous bangs, this voice was different. This voice was riddled with panic. A primal panic that I hadn’t heard since my little sister almost choked to death when I was eight.

“Baby!?” The voice insisted.

Its pitch seemed to grow with each passing word.

“You hear me?” It called out again, pulling me back towards the kitchen.

Having relocated to the sniper’s perch, I could now see a candy apple red Dodge Durango parked in the middle of the driveway. One whom I could only assume belonged to the middle-aged black woman standing anxiously at the front door. Call it intuition, but I had a feeling she was looking for Claudette.

“For Heaven’s sake,” the woman scoffed.

Right then a blacked-out SUV turned onto Secretary Frazier Street, kicking up thick clouds of dust in its wake. It came to a rolling stop at the end of the driveway and a stocky redhead clad in a bulletproof vest and rainbow-tinted Pit Vipers stepped out. He muttered something into his radio before approaching who I assumed to be Claudette’s mother.

The duo exchanged hushed words before my attention was drawn back down to my buzzing pocket.

“Your Doordash order has arrived,” a text from an unknown number read.

“Fuck,” I groaned.

Talk about shit timing.

The familiar crunch of crushed gravel brought my gaze back up and I watched as Medic 25 and Engine 50 lumber on down the street towards us. Whatever was going on here was obviously much more serious than I had originally thought and to make matters worse, my dinner was now being held hostage somewhere out there amongst the growing mass of Letcher County’s finest.

”Baby, please! You are scaring us,” Claudette’s mom belted out.

My mind reeled as I tried to think up alternative routes. Usually, I used the building’s main entrance anytime I left the house, but considering this path took me right past Claudette’s front door, I was suddenly very wary to take it. But outside of dropping drown from a second story window I really had no other option. It was either take my chances with Claudette or have Hot Pockets for the fourth night in a row. And lord knows my GI tract needed a break. So, taking in one last deep breath, I made my way to my front door and grabbed the knob.

A faint scent of lavender filled my nostrils as I gripped its weathered brass. I don’t know if it was just because I was in the comfort of my own home, but something didn’t feel right all of a sudden. I had dealt with dozens if not hundreds of unruly patients over the course of my career, but for one reason or another I was dreading the thought of facing Claudette. I don’t know how to explain it, but something just felt off.

I turned the knob and pushed. My heart was beating out my chest at this point. Instead of finding my melanated neighbor though, all I was met with was mounds of mismatched clutter. I breathed in a sigh of relief. Heaps of clothes, piles of books, and stacks of cheap furniture lined the tight hallway that Claudette and I shared. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought that she was moving out, perhaps having been evicted given all the racket.

I held my breath as I weaved through the mountains of junk, doing my best to keep as low of a profile as I could. About halfway down the hallway though I came to Claudette’s apartment. Her door was wide open and a faint rustling oozed out. Despite my curiosity, I didn’t stop to investigate. I just kept moving forward, making a beeline straight for the stairs.

The weight of a thousand worlds was lifted off me the moment my feet made contact with the top step. I was almost there. Ten more and I would be home free. But before I could even manage to take another step, I was stopped dead in my tracks.

Standing at the bottom of the steps was Claudette.

I almost didn’t recognize her at first. Her greasy hair, saggy skin, and sickly stature made her look more ghoul than human. But I knew it was her because she stood with that same stillness. An awful stillness that sent icy shivers snaking down my spine.

“He-he-hello?” I stammered.

No response.

She just stared blankly ahead. Her fixed gaze boring a hole in the adjacent wall.

“Claudette?” I called out.

Still nothing.

I couldn’t tell if she was frozen in a catatonic state or just high off her ass. What I could tell though was that she was in bad shape. Like involuntary seventy-two-hour hold shape. I mean shit, I don’t think she even knew I was there and I was standing less than five feet away from her.

After some silent deliberation, I finally decided to just bite the bullet and walk right on past her. I figured that if she truly was having some kind of psychiatric emergency chances were that she wouldn’t even notice me. And if she did, I figured I could probably outmaneuver her anyway. So, with soft steps, I did just that.

I was past her and less than two steps away from the building’s front door when I first heard it.

“Don’t believe him,” a hollow voice whispered.

My legs went slack. Every part of me said don’t do it, my mind, my body, and even my soul begged me not to turn around. But being the mere mortal that I am, my curiosity ultimately got the best of me.

Standing in the same rigid fashion, with her gaze still stuck on the adjacent wall, was Claudette.

“What?” I asked with a noticeable crack in my voice.

She turned her head with an impossible slowness.

My hands began to tremble as I met her gaze. I never really got a good look at her the first time around, but now that we were face to face, I could see just how truly lifeless and marbled her eyes had become. Like those of a taxidermized animal, they did nothing more than reflect a carefully crafted illusion of existence.

I could feel my pulse beginning to spike: ninety, one hundred, one hundred ten, one hundred twenty, one hundred thirty, one hundred forty, and so on. There probably wasn’t enough Adenosine in the entire world to bring me back down at this point, for it was becoming increasingly obvious that this was not your run-of-the-mill psych call. This was something far stranger.

Panicked, I spun back around and busted out the front door. Tripping and falling, I almost took Engine 50’s Lieutenant out with me.

“We looking for you?” He asked, helping me to my feet.

An army of concerned faces flanked him.

My chest heaved in and out as my brain somersaulted.

“No,” I finally blurted out.

Hearing this, the Lieutenant blew by me with profound indifference, a motley crew of firefighters and paramedics hot on his heels. I quietly slipped by them, still in somewhat of a shocked daze, and stumbled out into the front yard. It was here, amongst the growing convoy of emergency vehicles, that I eventually found my DoorDash driver and retrieved my dinner.

“Is my baby okay?” A familiar voice called out.

I turned to find the same woman from before watching me from across the yard.

I swallowed hard. I didn’t know what to say. Hell, I didn’t even know what to think. Whatever was wrong with Claudette was far beyond my paygrade. She needed a shrink or maybe even a priest, but definitely not some washed-up EMT barely making it through paramedic school.

“Yeah, she’s fine,” I lied, trying my best to hide my telling squeak.

A look of relief washed over her.

“Oh, thank God,” she exclaimed. “I thought I was going to lose her too.”

I felt my face twist.

“Too?” I asked, quickly realizing that my question was probably inappropriate.

“Yeah, her momma up and lost it back in ’98,” she admitted.

My eyebrows arched.

“I am Aneeka by the way,” she said, outstretching her hand. “Claudette’s aunt.”

I shook it and spent the next few minutes chatting with her. She told all about the supposed “curse” that plagued their family. Apparently, just about every generation since she could remember had experienced some kind of horrific tragedy. Her great-great-great-great-grandmother was a slave of Madame LaLaurie’s, her great-grandfather was strung up by a lynch mob, her father shot himself shortly after returning home from Vietnam, and her baby sister had spent the last two decades fighting crack-induced demons in a state-run psychiatric facility just outside of Lexington.

But despite all of this Claudette was said to be different. The light of her aunt’s eye, she was the one supposedly destined to break this awful curse. After all, she had a great job, a strong work ethic, a good head on her shoulders, and loads of promise. But that apparently all went out the window late last night when she started neurotically texting about “depraved doppelgangers” and “twisted twins”, swearing that her apartment was “haunted” and that she was “possessed”.

It suddenly all made sense. The banging, the cops, the hallway, her vacant stare, her unflinching stillness, everything. Despite what they may think, I had a sneaking suspicion that devils and demons weren’t to blame for their family’s unsavory history though, but rather it was largely due to the effects of mental illness and systemic oppression.

I was trying to find a polite way to excuse myself when the front door suddenly blew open with a familiar bang. Out from it poured a parade of first responders with Claudette sandwiched tightly in between them. From what I could see she wore the same lifeless look from before, one that now made a little more sense given her lineage.

The paramedics escorted her out to the ambulance while the Lieutenant convened with Claudette’s aunt. Right before stepping up into the truck though she stopped, swayed for a moment, and spoke with a toneless indifference.

“She lyin.”

I looked over at Claudette’s aunt.

“Look at her eyes.”

She returned a concerned gaze.

“That ain’t me.”

My mouth dried.

“C’est un diable.”

My stomach churched.

Then without any further explanation, she calmly climbed up into the ambulance and was gone, bringing an abrupt end to my wild afternoon.

I spent the remainder of the evening trying to study. After about two hours of mindlessly staring at my textbook though I finally threw in the towel. The motivation just wasn’t there. Plus, I knew I could use a night off. So, with seemingly nothing else to do, I popped a thirty-milligram edible, poured myself a stiff drink, and prepared for blast off.

I was standing at the end of my childhood cul-de-sac when I finally came to. Staring up at an oppressive grey sky, I watched as an old-timey helicopter descended upon me. Its wired frame swayed side to side as its single occupant, a James Dean lookalike clad in a Cold War era army uniform, looked down at me.

I squinted hard trying to make out his face. His chin was honed and angulated, cheekbones high and tight, hair slicked back and greased, and his 5 o’clock shadow was sharp enough to draw blood. For some strange reason, I felt like I knew this man, but for the life of me I couldn’t figure out how. Despite having no idea who he was, I felt oddly drawn to him. Almost as if I had known him my entire life. It wasn’t until I got a good look at his eyes though that I finally figured out why. Hidden amongst a paternal warmth were the eyes of my grandfather. The same grandfather that I had lost to cancer when I was eight and spent the rest of my life idolizing. Only this version of him looked to be stuck in 1952.

The moment I realized it was him a deep sense of longing set in. Nearly two decades worth of love and admiration came pouring out of me as hundreds of precious memories flooded my mind. Fat tears of joy began to stream down my face as the helicopter landed directly in front of me. I had so much to ask him and even more to tell, but what I wanted most of all was a hug, a hug that I thought was dead and buried long ago. But right as I reached out to embrace him, I woke up.

Orange beams of bright morning sun poured in through a break in the blankets. Despite the oppressive stench of bottom shelf bourbon that wafted off of me, I felt good. Focused, motivated, and thoroughly refreshed, I was ready to take on the day. Shit, I was ready to take on the year.

I sat on my front porch and took in fresh gulps of sweet morning air as I laced up my sneakers. Remnants of Claudette’s episode still littered the upstairs hallway. I had a feeling that it was going to be a long time before I saw her again. Putting these thoughts aside though, I finished with my shoes and took off on a long run.

My path took me up hills, across hollers, over streams, down valleys, and through thick sections of backwoods. While I ran my mind wandered in every which way. I thought of friends, family, work, and school. Israel, Palestine, the 2016 World Series, and even Kanye West’s infamous Hurricane Katrina video. But it was while reviewing the various doses of Midazolam that I first saw it.

Roughly a hundred yards up ahead of me was a small slender silhouette. Bathed in a deep blood red, it looked humanoid in almost every sense. I watched as its tiny frame bobbed up and down rhythmically against the brush and brambles. I couldn’t make out any specifics, but we looked to be heading in the same direction, venturing deeper and deeper into the surrounding forest.

I usually wouldn’t think much of this. I passed by people all the time on my runs: neighbors, farmers, miners, drivers, and sometimes even the occasional moonshiner. But not here. Not in this particular stretch of woods. This was one of the few remaining places left untouched by the tainted hands of civilization. It was a hidden gem amongst an over-constructed and undervalued world and one whose foliage was so thick that you damn near needed a machete to navigate through. Regardless, I continued on, eventually losing sight of the silhouette as I neared my halfway point.

A lone shingle hung loosely from the abandoned cabin that sat rotting away in the middle of the woods. I found this dilapidated relic a few years back and have used it as my turnaround point ever since. Stopping to catch my breath, I glanced around at its crumbling façade. I expected to find signs of a visitor: footprints, broken twigs, shifted soil, etc., but found nothing. The place looked just as undisturbed as the day I found it.

I was less than a mile out from my apartment when I caught another glimpse of something red up on the horizon. It had the same blood-tinted hue as before, only this time it seemed to be headed right for me.

The figure was twenty yards and closing by the time I finally recognized it for what it was. Standing four foot nothing and wearing a blood red “Louisville Football” sweatshirt was a kid. A boy to be exact who was probably no older than seven or eight.

Twenty yards later and the boy passed without incident. We didn’t exchange words, we didn’t exchange glances, we didn’t even acknowledge each other’s existence. We just walked right on by like two ships passing in the night. Despite our close proximities, I didn’t get a good look at his face. His hood was up and his eyes were buried in the ground below. Outside of the sweatshirt, really the only other identifying aspect was his obnoxiously sweet floral scent.

I was back inside my apartment and halfway up the stairs when it hit me. The sweatshirt. Blood red and lined with thick black trim, it was the same one that I had worn when I was his age. And when I say same one, I don’t just mean the same style, but rather the same exact sweatshirt. Like shared an identical burn mark right over the “Lou” same.

A heavy tightness filled the center of my chest. Things had gone from strange to downright creepy in the blink of an eye. I mean there was no way this was merely a coincidence, right? Regardless, I wanted no further part of it. So, without hesitation I bolted back up to my apartment and slammed the door shut.

I spent the next few hours fixated on the boy in the red sweatshirt. I tried anything and everything to distract myself. I read, I studied, I did pushups, I did sit ups, I watched tv, hell I even tried watching porn, but nothing seemed to take. I was obsessed.

But then, just as things couldn’t seem to get any stranger, a familiar bang rang out.

“Hello?” I called out in a forceful whisper.

The flowery stench of artificial lavender filled the cluttered hallway that I was now creeping down.

“It’s Patrick, Claudette’s neighbor,” I repeated, this time a little louder.

I tiptoed towards her door. It was still just as wide open as she had left it, only now an eerie stillness seeped out. I groaned. Either someone was messing with me or I was losing my goddamn mind.

I stepped inside and inched my way forward, clomping my feet in an effort to forewarn any potential occupants. I didn’t want to catch a paranoid pill pusher or schizophrenic Satanist by surprise, especially since there are enough ARs and AKs here in Whitesburg to fund a small army. Now I don’t know exactly what I expected to find, maybe a drug den or voodoo temple given her recent behavior, but it surely wasn’t this. Not the everyday run-of-the-mill subsidized apartment that lay before me.

A half-eaten bowl of macaroni and cheese sat rotting away on the kitchen table. Outside of the mess in the hallway, nothing really looked out of the ordinary here. There were no bloody pentagrams, no dirty needles, no belt-fed machine guns, nor even a single bottle of liquor in the entire apartment. If anything, the place just looked sad. So much so that it would have likely driven even the most sound-minded individuals mad as well.

I searched every nook and cranny of that God-forsaken apartment but didn’t find a single thing. No human, no demon, no cat, not even a freaking ant. I was about at my wit’s end. I knew that if I stayed here any longer, I would likely end up on the same floor as Claudette. So, I left.

Back at my place, I caught a rare glimpse of myself as I walked by the bathroom. I couldn’t recall the last time I had shaved, let alone bathed. My face was scruffy and grey, my eyes sunken and bloodshot, my hair frizzy and matted, and my clothes filthy and worn. If I was a cartoon character, I surely would have had little green stink lines wafting off of me.

I shed my soiled rags and jumped in the shower. The warm water did wonders for my grimy body, but little to ease my troubled mind. Like a dog chasing its own tail, my thoughts ran in circles around themselves.

I was all toweled off and pulling a dull razor across my face when I first saw it. Out of the corner of my eye, in the reflection of the mirror, I caught a fleeting glimpse of something red flash behind me. Before I could investigate any further though a sharp pain tore through my chin, pulling my attention back forward.

“Shit!” I cursed.

A thin river of blood streamed down my neck.

“Relax, Patrick,” I said as I balled up a tiny piece of toilet paper.

“It’s all in your head,” I assured myself, pressing the ball hard against my chin.

I let out a deep sigh before peering back over my shoulder.

Nothing.

I smirked.

I was officially losing it.

After finishing up my shave I threw on a towel and wandered out into the kitchen, putting on a fresh pot of coffee while I worked to calm myself.

“Caffeine, a shower, some fresh clothes, and I’ll be good to go,” I sang with feigned confidence.

A small part of me believed that if I said this with enough conviction it just might actually come true, but an even larger part of me knew that this was bullshit. I was headed in a dangerous direction and nearing a tipping point. Stress, paranoia, schizophrenia, demons, devils, whatever this was, it was winning.

The coffee finished brewing and I poured myself a cup. I took a big whiff of it before venturing out into my bedroom. Rich and nutty, it smelled just like the thing I needed. I put on a fresh pair of drawers and swung open my closet door only to be met with the crashing sound of shattering ceramic. Dangling in between my high school letterman and camo Carhartt was a blood red Louisville Football sweatshirt. A blood red Louisville Football sweatshirt with thick black trim and a familiar burn mark.

I froze. And by froze I don’t mean that I was just scared shitless, but rather I was legit frozen in place. Paralyzed: like couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t blink, couldn’t breathe. Hell, I couldn’t even feel the 150ºF coffee dripping down my foot. It was then that the banging suddenly returned in full force. Coming from every direction, it filled my tiny room with a deafening roar. If I could have moved, I would have run, spoken I would have screamed, blinked I would have shut my eyes, and breathed I would have held my breath, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything. I was frozen solid and at the complete mercy of…

I awoke in a cold sweat sprawled out in the middle of my bed. A familiar stench loomed thick in the air.

I sat up and rubbed my eyes.

“What the hell happened?” I asked out loud.

My head pounded and my stomach lurched. I couldn’t tell if I had just woken up from a nap or a full night’s rest. I could still remember the events of this morning, but now all of a sudden they felt strangely distant.

I grabbed my phone and swiped it open. “4:03”, stared back at me in big white print.

“Fuck,” I groaned.

I never slept in this late.

I was just about to call my girlfriend when my gaze was suddenly pulled back towards my closet. Tucked away in the corner, its door sat wide open, revealing its inner contents. And hanging by their lonesome in the middle of it were my letterman and Carhartt. No red sweatshirt was anywhere to be found.

I breathed in a sigh of relief. I guess it had just been a dream after all.

An incoming text rattled my phone. It was from my Uncle Jim, my mother’s brother and the current owner of my apartment building.

“Hey Pat, got some bad news. Claudette passed away last night. I’m going to swing by tomorrow and start cleaning up. You free to help?”

A frown creased my face.

A second text came through. This one from an unknown number with a 504 area code.

“He lyin.”

A lump began to form in the back of my throat.

A third came through.

“Look at his eyes.”

A fourth.

“That ain’t you.”

I could feel my throat starting to close. There was no way it was her. Even if Uncle Jim was wrong, I knew she wouldn’t have access to a phone. Cell phones are strictly prohibited in psych wards and there was no way she was out already. Someone had to be messing with me. It was the only explanation.

“WHO IS FUCKING WITH ME!?” I exploded.

I don’t know where it came from, but a blind rage suddenly tore through me.

“HUH, MOTHERFUCKER!?”

My face flushed.

“I AM NOT CRAZY!”

The veins in my neck began to quiver.

“YOU HEAR ME!?”

My vision blurred.

“FUCK!”

I opened my mouth to issue one last forceful proclamation, but was immediately met with…

It was pitch dark by the time I finally awoke. My sheets were now soaked and my mind was coated in a dreadful fuzziness.

“What is happening to me?” I cried.

Thick tears began to well up in my eyes.

A single bang rang out.

Something was wrong, very wrong.

A second bang rang out.

I needed help, serious help.

A third.

By this point, I was laughing hysterically. The line between fact and fiction had grown so blurred that I felt like laughter was my only remaining defense. Well, that and one other thing, but I wasn’t quite there yet. So, instead I picked up my phone and dialed.

“911, what’s the address of your emergency?” A hollow voice croaked.

I wet my lips.

“525 Secretary Frazier Street,” I said.

A fourth bang rang out.

Only this time it sounded like it was coming through the phone.

A fifth bang.

Tears began to stream down my face.

A sixth.

My mind began to crack.

A seventh.

“No,” I pleaded.

An eighth.

A hollow cackle spurted from the other side of the line before one last phrase was uttered.

“C’est un diable.”

And with this, my mind finally went. The few remaining shreds of sanity that I had so desperately held onto were pulverized into a thousand tiny little pieces. I closed my eyes and for the first time in my life I wished I was dead.

It was the faint scent of lavender of all things that ended up bringing me back around. I opened my eyes expecting to find myself back in bed, stuck in the same fucked up version of Groundhog Day, but instead was met with perhaps the most bizarre spectacle I had ever seen. Standing before me was me.

Roughly four foot tall and clad in a blood red Louisville Football sweatshirt with black trim and a burn mark right over the “Lou” was me. Only this me wasn’t the same me that I had seen in the mirror earlier. Nor was it even the same one that I remembered seeing over the course of the past fifteen years. Rather this was the me that obsessively read comic books, ate Doritos for dinner, and struggled with multiplication tables. This was the me that had yet to be kissed, yet to get drunk, and yet to be sullied by the crushing realities of life. This was eight-year-old me.

I stared at myself with dumbstruck eyes for what felt like hours. This was beyond crazy. This was beyond logical. This was pure lunacy. If it wasn’t for my eyes, I probably would have been scared shitless, but just like my grandfather’s, they expressed an ethereal sense of warmth that instantly melted my worries and wrapped me in a euphoric sense of love. One that echoed the sheer pureness of youth.

With trembling hands, I reached out to touch me. A part of me was hoping to feel something, to know that such a purity could actually still exist, but another part of me was hoping to feel nothing because I knew that if I did, life would never be the same.

My fingers connected and were met with soft, warm, skin. Like a shot of good coke straight to the dome, it filled me with an ecstatic sense of ecstasy. One that was so strong that I could have been standing in the selection line at Auschwitz and still been on cloud nine.

I leaned in to embrace myself. This was it. I was finally getting the hug I wanted, the hug I so desperately needed. But right as I felt my childish arms lock around me, I saw it. The warmth that had lulled me into this vulnerable state of trust was snuffed out right before my eyes and quickly replaced by a haunting sense of nothingness. The same haunting sense of nothingness that I had seen in Claudette.

I tried to break free, but it was no use. The harder I fought, the tighter my arms held. I was stuck, forced to gaze into the depths of my own crushing nothingness for the rest of eternity. So, I gave up. The months of unending stress, the days of psychological torture, and the complete utter lack of hope had finally done it. It had broken me for good. So, with a rare calmness, I grabbed the nine-millimeter from my nightstand, put the barrel in my mouth, and pulled the trigger.

“Tonight, on WLKY 32, a rash of unexplained deaths that rocked the small town of Whitesburg can finally be laid to rest as investigators have uncovered a methamphetamine manufacturing lab in the downstairs unit of a local apartment building. Located in the five hundred block of Secretary Frazier Street, the building experienced two suspicious deaths in the span of forty eight hours, prompting a thorough investigation by local authorities. A spokesperson from the Letcher County Sherriff’s Office stated that a search warrant conducted late last night revealed the illegal narcotics lab as well as an indoor generator that was being used to power the operation. Investigators believe that the generator’s toxic fumes leaked into the building’s upstairs apartments and played a major role in the tragic deaths of two of its occupants. No arrests have been made at this point. Officials are asking the publics help in identify a person of interest. Last seen leaving the apartment in question, witnesses describe the suspect as a young male anywhere between four and five foot tall and wearing a blood red “Louisville Football” sweatshirt with thick black trim and a burn mark over the “Lou”. If you or anyone you know has any information regarding the matter please call our crime stoppers number at (502) 893-3671

[goodlittlefangirl]

Hi there little babygirl

Have you been a good fucktoy today?

Yeah? You think so? Yeah well think again, have you been properly used yet? No? Oh dear, oh dear, we oughta change that, don‘t we?

Well let me just go ahead and spin that little wheel of yours, Oh, wow, we starting off strong with 5 edges, you touching that little clit of yours? Yeah, just like that my whore. Abuse that clit of yours, but don‘t you dare cum, we‘re sure as hell not done yet.

Desperate much yet? Your pretty little moans sound so cute. Louder!!! I thought you were a proper whore, good whores are loud, go on, be as loud as you can be! Time for some clit slaps, let me see ten of those. Slap as hard as you can. Say, „Thank you Mommy. I’m you’re good whore“ after every single slap.

Oh, you thought you‘re clit would get a break after this? No no no no no, you got the wrong idea. Go ahead, pinch that clit and twist it, 5 times you whore. That’s the furthest you can twist it? Now that’s just down right pathetic, go ahead, it’s supposed to hurt. Pfffft, here I was thinking you were a pain slut. Do turn a little further, just a little. There you go, yes I know it hurts, but it also feels so damn good, those sounds of crying due to the pain mix perfectly with your pleasured little moans you whore.

What a good whore you can be, you just need someone to tell you how to fuck yourself dumb, don‘t you?

Are you leaking? Aww that’s cute babygirl, your leaking all over your thighs, sorry, we can’t have that. Go ahead and get your panties up in there to stop the leaking. Oh wow, you took those so well. You did that really well, I‘m impressed.

Oh, you wanna cum? Haha, NO! Don‘t you dare you slut. You think you being so close is gonna change my mind? Yeah that’s a good joke. You know what you get for that? No touch at all, for, mhhhh, 2 and a half hours. Weird amount of time right, well, deal with it. Oh cute dumb little babygirl, leave your clit alone. Yeah that’s right, say sorry to Mommy. Put a timer on your phone, so it‘ll let you know when you can touch again.

~~~~

Time is over? Congrats you did it, you can touch again. Oh you left those panties in? See, I told you you can be a good whore. What? You wanna take em out? Nope, forget it, leave them right where they are.

Is your pussy full? Yeah, feels good doesn’t it?

Go ahead give yourself 5 pinches, clit and nipples each. You remember your first clit pinches? Yeah? Do these exactly like that, turn a little further for me. Yes, there you go, those tears look so good rolling down your cheeks. Yes my pretty whore, you look so beautiful like this, and your doing so well.

Go ahead, slap your clit numb. Yes, 10 clit slaps. Yes just like that! Hit it as hard as you can! Damn, you really are just gonna listen to everything I tell you. Well, I am gonna have to have some fun with that. Go and grab your thoothpaste. What? Your legs are all shaky? Do I look like I care? For all I care, go and crawl to your thoothpaste, maybe your clit will get some friction on the floor.😈 Oh, there you go, now, put some of that toothpaste on your clit. Yes I know, it’s torture, but like, that’s the whole point you dirty whore, who doesn’t like pain with their pleasure? Especially pain sluts like you.

Okay, now that your clits all taken care off. How about we do something about those nipples? Yeah, you heard me right. Damn, how I wish you had some pretty clamps to put on your nipples. That would make you look so beautiful. I don’t think I’d be able to resist pulling on it. It’d just be way to inviting😈

Well, since we can’t do that 5 pinches for each nipple. Oh? You’re a quick learner! Yeah, twist them just like that! Yes! Who’s a good whore? You? Maybe.

I’m joking right now you are being a very good slut. You’re doing so well following each of my instructions. You’re so cute when you’re all desperate like this🥰 Just how much more will you be able to take before your brain just completely turns to mush?

I say, let’s find out!

Only a little longer

Woopsie, your wheel just said 5 edges for you. You want me to edge with you? Aw that’s cute babygirl🥰 Okay alright, I’ll do that fifth edge with you.

1

2

3

Done with your fourth? Okay drink a little something babygirl, you do have to stay hydrated.

You ready? Cause I sure as hell am.

Oooh, touching my clit feels soooo good. Would you mind sucking it? (Take the tip of your pinkie in your mouth and suck for all your worth) Good girl! Yes!!! Oh my god that feels sooo good. You suck like the little whore that you are. How’s your clit doing? Go ahead and touch yourself, we said we’d edge together. Yes, just like that, you’re doing so well! Go ahead push a finger inside you. What? Oh, I forgot😂 Your panties are filling you, well, how do you feel about a little anal? No? Oh you silly little whore. That’s not your choice. It’s mine and I’ve made it. Don’t look at me like that. If you continue…. No! Don’t you dare stop sucking!! If you continue looking at me like that you’ll get ten more edges. Oh? You don’t want that? Well then, get that finger up your asshole!

I love watching your eyes get all droopy like that. Okay, stop sucking for a sec, I’m gonna put my vibrator in me. You want one to? Forget it! That’s only for good girls who haven’t cum in a month. Pfft, as if you little slut haven’t cum in a month. You’re way too desperate and horny and slutty for that. Now why don’t you put that mouth to better use and suck my clit again? Oh babygirl, yes circle your tongue around my clit, ooh just like that. YES! What? No, I’m not gonna cum, who do you think I am? I‘m not a desperate whore like you!

Your on the edge? Good girl, can you stay there for a second more? No, don‘t stop sucking. Yes, take that finger out of your slutty asshole.

Oh, oopsie babygirl. I‘m so sorry my hand cramped up and I must have accidentally pushed the button to turn the vibrations up to the highest setting. I guess the vibrations combined with you sucking me so well were just a little to much. I‘m sorry, you’re face looks a mess. I didn‘t mean to squirt all over you. Sit up babygirl. Damn. You look hot like that. My cum running down your chin😍. Such a beautiful dirty whore. Yeah, that face deserves a smack. Of course I‘ll clean you up later. I made the mess, I‘m gonna clean it up.

Okay, you have been such a good whore tonight. I guess this is it for today then.

Just one final task for you. Oh, those puppy eyes, so cute😍🥰. Well you sounded like a little mutt at some points, so that seems quite fitting actually. Okay, ready for your final task?

Yeah? You think so?

I know my desperate whore. I don‘t want this to end either but we both have to sleep.

So go ahead for me and ruin for me, okay babygirl?

Yes, you‘ve been such a good whore, to be honest with you, best one I‘ve had in a hot sec, BUT, gotta keep you desperate you slut. Why on earth would I not want to play with you again tomorrow? So, tonight you ruin, and maybe tomorrow you‘ll be luckier😈

If you‘ve got other instructions of course do go ahead and do these before you ruin, you know why? I don‘t mind sharing you with whoever wants to use you. Cause after all? Aren‘t you just a free use slut willing to let whoever wants to have their way with you, have it, whenever, whoever, wherever?

😈

Little fun fact I thought you might enjoy, I did in fact squirt while writing this💦

Please, drink some water, why am I saying please? It’s a freaking order😈, go, drink a glass of water or else you won’t even get to ruin next time😈

This was so hot 🥵

[3d-visions]

False Lankum - Lankum

This was the first album I listened to from 2023 in full, I know, very sad, but starting this slightly different flavour of breakdown has really changed the way that I listen to music. And to be very honest, this was both a challenge and a catalyst. In the past, the way I have interacted with music has been flighty and obsessive, repeatedly listening to a singular song whilst neglecting the rest of the album. This is why (and it should come as no surprise to anyone who has listened to this album in full) that this was a challenging album for my short attention span to listen to, especially as a return to full length listening.

Don't worry, I'll set the scene for you. On Friday the 5th of April (I sound like a wanker, last Friday) I travelled up to the north of England to the thoroughly depressing city of Hull - it even feels awful when you say it, try it now, say it out loud, I'll wait here for you. Done it? Good, now keep reading - (probably because of the weird vibes of my family) to visit family and go and see Ed Gamble in York. When we arrived after a refreshing 10 hours of driving, I was promptly frog-marched into my grandparent's house. Soon enough I had the chance to skulk off, up the creakiest stairs in existence to a room I used to share with my brother and cousins. You know the feeling when you go back to a primary school that you went to as a child and remark 'oh it's all so much smaller than I remember', now make it derelict. Returning to that room without the accompaniment of childhood or people creates a unique sadness, so I did the obvious thing and blocked it out completely. And thus began my deep dive into the music of 2023. It's a wonder how, when surrounded by the accoutrements of your rapidly rotting childhood, you can become so engrossed in reminiscing about my last year of not being an adult.

Anyway, onto the actual album, I know I've talked a lot about myself, but this is for me and not you so… I discovered this album when I scrolled to the guardian's album of the year on their 'top 50 of 2023'. Of course, being the impatient little imp I am, I imminently popped my noise-cancelling headphones on and emersed myself in the traditional folk/ drone metal masterpiece. Disclaimer, I literally know nothing about music, I'll do my best.

'Go Dig My Grave' is the opening track of the record, and it begins with the piercing, melodic, unaccompanied vocals of Radie Peat. If I were to come across this opening in my casual music listening, then I would skip quickly as my puny, internet-poisoned brain would not be able to handle an eight and a half minute song. However, once I took a quick glance around the room, I was open to something new. Soon enough, the unnerving floating vocals are accompanied by disembodied notes that are eerily elongated and a monotone duet providing a spine tingling bass/ drone-y feel which I can only imagine is amazing live. The floating notes soon amalgamate into a cacophony of noise that seems straight from hell, the drone has become heady and metallic, almost screeching. Where the rest of the song is felt in your extremities the final few minutes are most certainly targeting the head, I can almost feel the continuous pitched drone in my temples. It brings with it the experience of a gig, like you can feel the music through the speakers, but without bursting an eardrum.

'Clear Away in the Morning' drifts seamlessly into the ending of the last track, continuing the high-pitched and swooping drone I am so fond of but introducing a melodic pendulum of noise accompanied by acoustic strumming. Despite the lack of vocals for the first two and a half minutes, the instrumentation manages to evoke the feeling of the ocean, of waves crashing against rocks. It feels 'of the Romantics' (getting use out of my English A-Level) and to me gives a definite sense of the sublime, it makes the listener small in the face of majesty, almost meditative. Even once the vocals begin, the track doesn't lose its sublimity, it's only enhanced by the harmonising vocals, which to me feel almost rapturous. Personally, it reminds me (yes, back to me again) of a day in November. I was walking back to my university halls, I could hear through the occasional 'einschwingvorgang' of thunder (there isn't a word in English that matches) lilting melodies from the cathedral, dipping in and out, the stained-glass windows illuminating the surrounding area with other-worldly light. Through the pounding of rain, I couldn't make out the lyrics I could only hear the harmony of the collective, I sat outside the cathedral for over an hour in the pouring rain that night. I could have just listened to this song because, same vibes.

'Fugue I' is the first of 3 interludes within the album that act as musical markers within the wide expanse of ocean that is this album, the swing of a lighthouses beam recalibrating the listener's position. This one brings a nice, yet definitive, end to the collective of the last two tracks. It gradually increases in pace until the abrupt ending, which heads into the next track.

'Master Crowley's' (haha, I fucking love good omens, Neil Gaiman <3) though jaunty in its use of sting instruments and its higher tempo beats feels constantly at risk of falling in on itself. It feels almost alive. The song has a real sense of movement, of some kind of behemoth lumbering along, the jig (idk if that's the right word) is placed on a soundscape of life. As we reach the halfway mark of the track, it shifts. We are taken down into the belly of the giant metallic beast and the jig is overpowered once again by the pendulum of noise seen in 'Clear Away in the Morning'. This track, due partially because of the lack of lyrics, takes the listener on a journey through the musical arrangements, for me this tracks creates the most imagery.

'Newcastle' is the song that my mother likes the most from this album and is comparatively (at least to its fugue mate) simple, though the layering and soundscape that surround the music provides depth, the real power of this song is Peat's voice. This track, I would say, is one of the most beautiful of the whole album. I feel bad because I don't have much to say about this song other than to just praise its beauty and gorgeousness. If for some reason you only listen to one song off of this album, then let it be this one.

'Fugue II' is the second of our three fugues and the shortest. Once again, it provides a nice bridge between the sections of music. The fugues I think are a bit more experimental than the full tracks. They provide a space to explore a newer sound. This one evokes a definite maritime feel, though that could just be me. The sprinkling of high-pitched tones brought to my mind the movement of metal chains at the docks, the constant cold pull of them as you heave them away from the sea. The screams and screeches of the rusting metal as they call back to the ocean.

'Netta Perseus' is once again a more acoustic number, but rather than the soundscape of 'Newcastle', the music here seems to swell and twist around the guitar. The sound as a whole seems more cohesive, the sounds are no longer just concordant but intertwining. Once you hit halfway, it changes into a wall of sound similar to 'Master Crowley's belly of the beast. The acoustic is attacked and taken over by the goliath of sound, strings weaving in and out of incessant drumming until the vocals come back in calming the sound back down. The lullaby like harmonies reach out and raining in the catastrophising noise.

'The New York Trader' is another fucking banger, it might sound like I'm hyping this album up too much, but it is genuinely just that good. This song in particular is far more closely linked to the music which I usually listen to. In preparation of writing this, I have done absolutely no research other than the short bit of information on the guardian's top 50 list. But this track sounds quite distinctively punk-y, both the lyrics and the sound feels quite a bit grimier, it displays a more intense sound with markedly more aggression which can be heard even in the strumming of the guitar.

'Lord Abore and Mary Flynn' another beautiful acoustic number, more of a ballad this time with gloriously rapturous restrained strings, and I am a fucking sucker for string arrangements. I'm going to talk a bit about the album as a whole. I think now, I would say that this album feels, more than anything else, like a labour of love and a definite unwillingness to compromise on a vision. This album, despite much of the lyrical content, feels quite celebratory to me. I'm not sure whether that celebration for me comes from a completely realised and unhindered creative vision or something else. Perhaps the complete harmony of the group, there is no pulling indifferent directions, this is clearly exactly what every member wants to be doing. I would be willing to bet that these people had been working together for years, the synchronicity and ease is so apparent throughout.

'Fugue III' Our final fugue, and our longest one, this track once again makes use of the high-pitched drone - at this point I can call it a motif right? But with an undercurrent of guitar, though after the seven minutes of melody from the last track, this one creates the most dissonance yet.

'On a Monday Morning' feels almost filmic in its execution, it has grand swells and mellow dips, I can't keep saying how beautiful this album is, just go and fucking listen to it. This album feels like a Magnum Opus, it feels definitive and powerful. The sound surrounds you and envelops you, once again to use the maritime metaphor, you are swept away to the sea during this record. It feels like less of an album and more of a dream, you transcend different realms and stories and become intertwined, yet it's not overwhelming, yes you have been swept away by the tide, but you aren't drowning. Don't worry, I've almost finished waxing poetic.

'The Turn' is the final culmination, a 13-minute culmination, it's joyous and definitive. It tells of a ship departing, as they are departing from this album. The occasional pick-ups of tempo and instrumentalisation create a (and I hate to use the word again) rapturous feeling, at the end of a truly amazing album which I'm sure will continue to live with me for a long time.

This is long and, and I doubt that anyone has actually read this far, but I guess if you have any recommendations, let me know or if you disagree with me or have anything to add (fr none of my friends know I'm trying to listen to everything from 2023). Also, if somehow you have read this and not listened to the album like literally wtf are you doing, go and listen to it.

[madraleen]

Bungo Stray Dogs - Season 3 A Commentary as Unhinged as the Anime but you know what, i'm not even sorry, the anime made me this way

-dazai had bandages on his face when he was in port mafia, and took them off when he joined the agency. what if by the end of the story he lets go of all the bandages, being his "naked" self. what then.

-dude, chuuya is so powerful

-smol dazai

-i'd expect nothing less from a dazai-chuuya first meeting

-15-year-old dazai is so subdued compared to present dazai. good thing miyano mamoru is a pro at that kind of nuance

-like, present dazai's default expression is :3. 15-year-old's dazai's is :<

-chuuya's fight scenes are sooo cool

-THEY'RE PLAYING ARCADE GAMES?!?! I HATE YOU!

-inside of me there are two wolves. one who appreciates bungo stray dogs, and one who goes insane for dazai/chuuya. but but, being with chuuya is the most animated young!dazai has been!!

-"the suicidal maniac wants to live" fits dazai to a T, chuuya gets it. and "i've come to think it's worth trying," dazai my love

-i will never get tired of chuuya yelling dazai's name, and also HANDS! THEY CLASPED HANDS! and things make sense! mostly! the naughty movie is behind us! (or in front of us production-wise, but. y'know.)

-so if chuuya is a vessel, does that mean he materialized as arahabaki's teenage human vessel?

-NO! THE SHEEP FUCKING STABBED CHUUYA?! i am so gullible, i was like, "oh, soul-searching, they're not that bad after all," but FUCKING STABBED?!

-YEAH YOU RUBBED RAT POISON LIKE THE RAT YOU ARE, YOU SHEEP JERK! YOU MADE CHUUYA CRY, YOU ASSHOLE! HE DIDN'T BETRAY YOU AND HE WOULDN'T BETRAY YOU, ugh i hate them.

-dazai perching on a rock, as one does

-to say that dazai is big-brained is an understatement. one wonders how insanely big-brained ranpo is, even, if dazai ISN’T their genius detective (well, dazai’s more of a tactician, isn’t he)

-the creation of artificial ability users by combining abilities with normal beings, that sounds like it'll be important at some point

-i'm actually smiling that chuuya found a place that he feels like he fits in, with the port mafia.

-dazai has so much fun riling up chuuya, i can't. i've loved this arc of dazai going from resigned, disconnected and detached to the whimsical maniac that we know now, and from suicidal maniac to suicidal maniac searching for reasons to live, and i loved getting to know chuuya's past and how they met and ugh, okay.

-ONLY A DIAMOND CAN POLISH ANOTHER DIAMOND, GUH

-HELLO daisuke ono! i've been expecting you.

-"people are quick to believe they are thinking of their own will," too true.

-wait, so what is fyodor's ability?

-bsd scares me a little, 'cause it's so whimsical and fun, that when it gets dark, you're completely unguarded

-i don't trust dazai as far as i can throw him, and also, i trust him implicitly. how is that possible?

-i will slap your pretty face, dazai, stop being so cryptic and tell us what's what! (re: the masked assassin)

-i love the tidbits of how much ranpo cares for the boss, because they should have a special relationship if the agency was founded specifically to make use of ranpo's skills.

-DAZAI IS IN SURGERY?! i hate him and his stupid plans, i hate this man, i hate him.

-oh i'm sorry master mastermind dazai, did you not predict that all hell would break loose after you got shot and incapacitated trying to find information on fyodor THAT YOU CLEARLY ALREADY SUSPECTED i hate you

-i'm so angry at dazai, but i don't think i'd be angry at all if he'd been fixed by akiko or patched himself up. it's specifically when he was shown mid-surgery that i got so incredibly angry, which leads me to believe that i feel like that because shit got real and i love him too much to see him involved in that kind of reality. the introspection of emotional responses is a hard-learned lesson from aot, tyvm.

-the agency vs port mafia makes me so sad.

-for that you got stabbed! to get the "a certain criminal" hint that eventually helped ranpo figure things out! sigh dazai, i hate you. i love you.

-how is kunikida so intact after the grenade blast?

-what a great moment for tanizaki to shine

-"we only know how to protect people by hurting people." ha.

-AHAHA RAMPO TRAPPING CHUUYA IN POE'S NOVEL, I YELLED OUT LOUD "OH NO!" that's great

-THE RACCOON

-i'm convinced dazai is in the hospital because there simply wouldn't be any conflict if he were up and about

-DAZAI-AKUTAGAWA PAST CRUMBLES?!

-i love the relationships in this anime, i love them so much. akutagawa fighting kyoka AND being happy for kyoka for not wanting to die anymore and finding reason to live, because he’s been there. they're so human and complex

-HE LIVES! HE SPEAKS! HE IS ALLOWED! (dazai)

-the fact that dazai has bandages over his arms etc in the hospital. how. the IV is on the bandages.

-the ex-assassins/ex-criminals to non-assassins/non-criminals ratio of the agency gets more even with every season

-the anime: 12 years ago, in ambiance lighting. me, a hsr player: ...have they been hit by quantum or...?

-HE SPEAKS AGAIN! DAZAI IS ALLOWED TO EXIST! REJOICE!

-ahaha is natsume-sensei mii-chan?!

-"ability: i am a cat" ahahaha! i don't know how that relates to the author, i wish i did, but out of context it's funny

-man i love bungo stray dogs. it's preposterous, it's absurd, i love it

-dazai and his stray kids. he was like, "welp, i've had enough of this hospital, BYEEEE"

-the problem is, the moment i hear dazai's voice i smile. he could be reading the dictionary and i'd still smile.

-dazai: jump. atsushi, his actual kouhai: but... but… akutagawa, ex-kouhai, present enemy-ish: how far?

-"of course dazai-san would vanish and leave you behind!" FREAKING OUCH ATSUSHI! he's not wrong though. dazai is a tactician, akutagawa fighting the enemy that's in front of him instead of the actual target is a liability

-"anyone who questions dazai falls into a cognitive prison." agreed, akutagawa. agreed, signed, experienced

-YEAH GEE WHY WOULD DAZAI EVER PAIR YOU TWO I WONDER! NOT BECAUSE YOU'RE ONE OF THE STRONGEST DUOS OF THE 'VERSE OF ANYTHING! (akutagawa and atsushi)

-this season's eps are so packed with story that i feel like i've been watching three dozen eps instead of twelve

-OOOOH dazai was mistaken, NICE

-you know, usually i'd be like "hrrrrm, they can do that all of a sudden? they hadn't shown this ability before it became convenient to have it, humph," but in this case i'm like "HECK YEAH THERE'S MORE THINGS THEY CAN DO, JUST WATCH!"

-oh that's so cool, the baby strays' combined abilities in atsushi

-imagine being pushkin and facing off against the agency and port mafia combined, lmao bye

-FYODOR ISN'T THERE AND HE'S COMMUNICATING THROUGH MUSIC?! THAT'S SO STUPID HE'S SUCH A MASTERMIND OMG

-NO! dazai colluded with fitzgerald?? AHAHAHAHA this anime is insane, the allegiances are so fluid, i love it

-DAY, NIGHT AND TWILIGHT COLLABORATING

-again, i love that the major antagonists don't die and they're recurring or potentially recurring

-lmao what, someone save our boy chuuya from the damn book!

-aw atsushi my love, you're not incompatible with akutagawa, you're complementary

-ATSUSHI WENT FOR THE KILL with the condition of not killing on akutagawa, and also i absolutely love it

-oooh, atsushi reminds dazai of oda?? with akutagawa being past dazai-ish? i see i see, so just like oda taught dazai the strength in not killing, atsushi means to teach that to akutagawa, and dazai can see and understand and appreciate it because he's been there, that's beautiful

-it’s sweet how it alternates between - good guy natsume fostered the sworn enemies/best partners mori-boss duo, antagonist mori fostered the dazai-chuuya duo, and good guy dazai fosters the atsushi-akutagawa duo.

-i'd love a glimpse of chuuya going insane inside the book, we were robbed

-anyway so i love season three. probably?  that's the feeling i'm left with.

[machinesandman]

Vile wasn't surprised to learn that the other Sigma of this alternates timeline also covered things up. But for good or ill? Who knew, if they were unaware of motives yet. Recent discovery maybe? Perhaps their area moved along slower on certain events that always seemed so... Well, locked in place, for lack of better understanding. A part of the war machine almost wondered if he wouldn't prefer taking a step over to just exist in the other time for a while. Ah, but that would just make things more complicated and confusing. Not worth the hassal for either of them.

The older reploid slowly turns and adjusts his stance again, confident and prepared for the counter of his kick that had sent the other moving backwards from the sheer power alone. Good to know he was quick to guard despite the fake out. It was interesting that he hadn't gone to counter so quickly, already the strategist section of his brain flicking through the various possibilities. Ready to use any opening. Just as he did once against other hunters in far higher stakes matches.

And still did they speak, as normal as they could at least. Not at if they were about to start ripping apart each others armor to try and see just what lurked beneath it all, further differences between what their outward twin appearances may be hiding.

Cold and freezing to slow, terminal infected otherwise. That sounded only a fraction close to how it had been before the virus had evolved further. "That's how it started in my side, but it didn't last long. Extreme's no longer changed it, too virulent. And then it stopped melting or ceasing the brains or bodies, and began driving Reploids to madness, rage, and then full intelligence. Very quickly. I took enjoyment in the chaos for a while..." Who wouldn't? It was the perfect thriving environment for a war machine with a damaged electronic brain, that Sigma kept damaged and he never knew back then. "Now, it can work it's way almost anywhere-"

A swift movement, Vi closing in at a rapid pace that would not work for a side step. They were both far too good for that, no, only way out of that would be block- it's an upper cut! Defense was unwise, would stagger. Letting it connect just to get a hit back foolish. Not with another version of himself. Split second data and strategy flickered through his mind, while eyes scanned every inch of position. Evaluation complete.

Vile lunged himself upwards and back in an arc, as a burst of jets from his armored boots kicked on. Sending him into a backwards wide arc, not unlike a back flip away. The momentum sending him back down once the arc was complete, only for one hand to catch himself at the earth below and shove, thrusting himself upwards into the air, position right side up at the end of his weight shifting, now about 15 feet up. Hovering there in mid air. Boots hissing with the specialized jets that work along his dash boosters. "-And it's why I can't let you be without knowledge on how to fight us." The collective of maverick Vile's, he knew damn well what he was capable of.

"You say there is no cure, has anyone made any head way into trying? They said the same thing where I'm from. Here I am."

On cue of his words, a shift of energy coalesced across his right forearm. Taking the form of a purple energy shield of some sort, high in power output as it locked into place, unwavering. That arm took its position in front of his face, and legs threw back, the boosters and jets kicking into high as he rocketed himself right at Vi, intending on going for a full weight bash on that hard surface. Or at the very least getting the other caught in an impact shock wave if he dodged wrong. Vile may be carefully planning his moves to avoid putting the other completely down, but he sure as hell wasn't pulling his proverbial punches.

Vile said the cure used on him was a prototype, hadn't he? One part luck, one part brute force. Not the kind of lightning that strikes twice, and even if it could... what lurked in their worlds was far too different for sharing data to be of any use.

An everchanging and adaptable threat... Maybe I've got it easy. To think the virus that afflicted his alternate had a stranglehold because it never stagnated, always morphing into a new and dangerous form. Worse, Sigma changed along with it-- for this aspect, Vi can only feel mortified. To be haunted by someone once so trusted, tormented and manipulated... "Can't say I envy you."

Clearly this was the reason the other Vile kept a watchful eye on him. As if hoping to prevent the same gruesome, undying nightmare that plagued the older unit for years.

You must be clean if you've got a soft spot. Comforting, in a weird kind of way. "Sigma was the Commander for a reason," a begrudging agreement. "...he covered a lot up here, too. Can't say I know the motive." Not yet, but they'd only just started digging.

His other self changes stance, matches his energy as the twin weapon drops to the ground. They're speaking a very specific language now; the kind where they both let loose.

"You have yourself a deal."

Next to no warning before it begins-- and yet he'd expect nothing less. It's the same way he'd handled the rookies at HQ. The enemy won't give you a heads-up. Won't play fair. His visor HUD flashes a proximity alert-- of course you'd go for the bad side.

Vi ducks slightly to avoid the fist coming his way, only to realize the real intention almost too late. He braces with his now lower posture, having reacted too slow to avoid the blow-- but quick enough to keep from losing his footing. The hit sends him sliding back, but he remains steady. Don't lose your cool.

"The virus is completely lethal. No cure, only a few ways to slow it down. Cold environments... flash freezing... it's the only way to study it." For what little good it would do. "Protocol is to terminate infected individuals immediately." Even other hunters.

He rushes his opponent, keen to get his body moving. His own swing is an arc upwards, a right hook uppercut aimed for his alternate's chin. An attempt to get that helmet off as quickly as possible.

[lunaviee]

can i request where reader cant go to their match and they got angry which makes them say the word "i shouldve invite *ex's name*, she wouldve come." and reader reaction can be up to you! with rin and maybe chigiri? thank you so much and please stay hydrate! sending loves <33

OHHH MYYY GODDD ANONNN……..

the way i gasped so loud when i saw this OMGOMG

okay so, idk if you’re wanting PURE ANGST for this but like i’ll add fluff at the end anyway bc the more the merrier😇😁😁

OKAY SO UMM..i’m a procrastinator, it’s no secret. so uhh chigiris will be posted when i remember to work on it, sorry😭

“are you serious?” “you’re..kidding, right?”

chigiri hyoma and rin itoshi x reader (seperate) click here for chigiri’s

tags/warnings: angst to comfort, swearing, arguing, NOT PROOFREAD…

synopsis: if he’s so insistent on you being there to support him, why doesn’t he do the same?

a/n: i am SO SORRY this took so long </3 i got busy but this request is soo..chefs kiss i hope i did it justice😓

RIN ITOSHI—

the faint mumbles from the tv filled rin’s apartment as you made a quick snack to eat, knowing your boyfriend should be home any minute. you sat down on the couch to eat, turning the tv volume up as background noise while you looked out the window. it faced a gorgeous view of your city, along with a nice view of the sunset.

after some time, you were back in the kitchen to clean up a bit.

*click*

the jingling of keys indicated rin was home, a tad later that usual but you payed no mind to it.

“hey,” you smiled, “welcome home, how was practice?” arms wrapping around his neck as he set his bag down, taking his shoes off. his arm snaked around your waist to pull you closer to him, planting a kiss on your temple.

“eh, same as always. those lukewarm lunatics don’t know what they’re doing”

you hummed in response, rin pulling away from you to look you in the eye. he spoke again. “we have a game in a few days. you’re going, right?” it sounded more like a demand than a question.

“oh uh about that” you broke eye contact, a twinge of nervousness tainted your face. “i was given an extra shift at work so i’ll be swamped, i don’t think i’ll be able to make it, sorry”

his before softened gaze now pierced right through you, full of annoyance. “really? i thought you’d want to come to my games.” his arms left your torso and flopped to his side, lower back resting on the counter.

“i do! i always do..rin you know this, i go to your games when i can but lately i’ve just been more busy an-” you rambled.

he cut you off, “quit the excuses.”

“excuse me?” you replied, shocked at how his silver tongue was so quick to interrupt you.

“i get it. you’re busy. you don’t have to make up these half-baked excuses and try to make me feel better.” he moved from the counter, straightening his back and showing his full height, looking down on you as if you were less than him at that moment.

“excuses? rin, what the hell are you talking about? i’m being serious.” confusion swirled in your mind, what was up with him??

“you know, i never had these problems with *ex’s name*. she was always happy to come to my games. no excuses, no lies. every game, she was there. why can’t you be like that?” rin’s venom stained words singed into your brain, glints of annoyance pooled in his eyes. a twinge of guilt settled in his gut the minute those words spilled out of his mouth, but he payed no mind to it.

“what?” your eyes widened in disbelief, “are you fucking serious?”

how could he say that? sure, rin was petty and used bitter language when he was upset, but comparing you to his ex? that was a new low, even for him. after all of the crap you two talked about when mentioning both of your exes in the past, you’d assume he’d want absolutely nothing to do with her. right?

“why wouldn’t i be?” not once did his gaze leave your figure, was he serious? “she actually took my career seriously.”

you were beyond shocked, eyes narrowing as your brows knitted together. “invite her then.” you retorted. “maybe i will, maybe then i’ll have someone who actually supports me there.” he scoffed.

his words made your blood boil, eye twitching before you spoke again, “get out.” you gritted through your teeth, fingers fiddling with the hem of your (his) sweater as to not lose your cool.

“what?” he scoffed, not expecting such a response (he really should have, what was he thinking??)

“did i fucking stutter? or is your skull too thick to hear what i have to say. get. out.”

the strikers face further scrunched, yet not moving an inch. “this is my apartment. if you’re upset, then leave.” he brushed past you without a single regret as to what he had said, not entirely believing you’d actually leave, where else did you have to go?

“fine then.” you slipped your shoes on while dialing a number on your phone before slamming the door, leaving the rin to sit with his thoughts. you had much, much more to say, but the thought of having to stay in the same vicinity as you made your stomach churn.

who did you call? why, your best friend of course, who else would you trust with this information. sure, rin’s teammates weren’t bad people to open up to, but you needed someone who could understand your feelings through angry sobs and incoherent mumbles.

it was only a matter of time before you were sat on yours friends bed, angry tears burning your cheeks as you rambled on about how dumb your boyfriend was.

“break up with him” your friend mumbled, only half joking. “me personally, i wouldn’t stay with a man, nah, a BOY who brings up his ex when he’s mad..”

you lifted your head from the tear stained pillow to meet your friend’s gaze. “yeah but……ugh i hate when you’re right” your sentence ending with a laugh

“i’m kidding..kind of” she sneered “either way, screw him, ghost his ass until he comes crying at your doorstep”

“what??” you shot up from your position, now almost on top of your friend. she was faced you, a more serious expression painting her face

“seriously though, you shouldn’t have to deal with that shit [n/n], he has the be the one to apologize.” you nodded in response, good thing your friend had a bit more common sense than you did in that moment.

“yeah, you’re right, thanks”

“any time, now do you wanna stay here or are you good to go home?”

“i’ll stay here and bug you more”

“okay then” she laughed out, the two of you now laying on the bed on your backs, staring at the ceiling

• { time skip - two days later } •

the radio silence that came from rin was like torture, did he not care? not a single text or phone call, not even a message given from one of his teammates. it was hard to stay positive.

sure, he deserved the silent treatment, but he was your boyfriend. his company single-handedly made your days better. being separated because of a fight that he didn’t want to resolve was stupid.

your friend tried taking you out today to get your mind off of the situation. it was going well, up until you walked into your favorite cafe.

you were met with a face you were too familiar with. rin’s. his eyes widened in disbelief and he twitched, almost as if he was about to run after you. and so you and your friend took one good look at him and immediately left. if the argument was going to be resolved, it wasn’t going to be in a public cafe.

your friend pushed you by the shoulders as you both shuffled out of the doors, you pulling out your phone to find another place to go to at the same time.

“shit.” was the only thing that rin had managed to mutter out as he saw the two of you running away from the cafe. it’s not that he wanted to avoid you. it’s that he was ashamed. he was scared that nothing he would say would amount to enough of an apology for what he said.

rin was scared that this was the end of you two. his worst fears of losing the one person he knew loved and understood him were coming true and is was his fault. the past few days were filled with doubt and regret, his teammates even noticing his practices were depleting.

the rest of the day came and went, your friend dropped you off back at your apartment where you collapsed on the couch, left with your thoughts once again. you were about to just pass out on your couch and ditch work the next morning, like you have been for the past few days.

that was until you heard a frantic knock on your door, jolting you awake. your worried expression dropped to one of annoyance and bitterness; it was rin. but, he looked different. his usually blank expression was now one of exhaustion and hurt.

he’d been..crying?

your eyes widened in confusion, you opened your mouth to tell him to leave before he cut you off.

“i’m sorry” he blurted out

he was looking down to you, except it was much different than before. rin looked desperate, his eye contact only further confirmed it.

he reached his hand out to place it on your shoulder, hesitating. you opened the door to let him in, sitting on the edge of your couch next to each other.

“i’m so sorry [name].”

“i know.”

“it was stupid, you mean so much to me and i..i ruined it.”

“i know.”

“please, you don’t need to forgive me now i just…”

he paused. rin’s head moved to look at the ground.

“i just need to know you won’t leave me. you can ignore me for as long as you’d like and i’d understand. but just…please i need you back” he begged, small tears brimming at his eyes, what a rare sight to see.

silence fell between the two of you, but it wasn’t like the comfortable silences you’ve shared before. it was tense and awkward.

“okay” your voice was barely above a whisper, “i won’t leave you, i think we both know that” you say with a smile.

rin looked back up at you, eyes wide, full of hope and relief.

“but listen i…” the moonlight only further highlighted just how much the two of you had been crying

“it’s gonna take some time. that was really fucked up, you know that?”

“yeah..yeah i know. i’m sorry. you’re nothing like her i-”

“i know.”

the two of you were now looking at each other, faces flushed from crying and relief. the silence was comfortable again.

“let’s just..go to sleep, yeah? we can talk about it in the morning, i think we both could discuss better afterwards” you offered, leaning closer to the armrest of your couch as you were too tired to go to your bed

rin hummed back in response, laying on your chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. your hands found their way to his hair, heartbeats practically synchronizing.

“you know..i’m still not going to your game” you whispered, peeking one eye open to watch your boyfriend. he smiled, “i know” a laugh spilled out of his mouth before you both fell asleep.