#because that would mean admitting they fucked up

[bananonbinary]

okay. everyone here, stop. forget about ai, forget about art, forget about copyright and plagerism. forget the wider context of this debate and focus in on this argument.

explain to me, from the start, how "lazy and incompetent" are morally bad things that aren't rooted in ableism. use your fucking words, and spell it out, in clear terms, that you think that people who struggle to do a task are doing so out of some personal character flaw rather than admit that sometimes people have shit going on that isn't fucking about you.

I'm going to say the same thing that I said when everyone was talking shit about "weaponized incompetence."

It is not your place to judge what someone else is or is not capable of. it's just not. you have no fucking idea what invisible disabilities they might have. "no disability actually prevents-" yes it does. sit down and actually look around, everything you find easy is hard for someone.

even if they totally don't have any disabilities at all, it still doesn't actually matter if people get accommodations they don't "need." partially because attempting to gatekeep who "really" needs help can only hurt disabled people, but also because. it doesn't matter. it's not hurting anyone.

laziness, as a concept, is not fucking real. it's just not. laziness is a diagnoses that looks at outward behavior (this person isn't doing what I think they should), and refused to acknowledge the actual internal reasons behind it. it is inherently dehumanizing and enormously self-centered. people do not self-sabotage for no reason. I have never in my life met someone who isn't doing something that they want/need because they...what, want to annoy me personally? even people that i think are doing objectively wrong things, it's not because they're evil, or stupid, or lazy, it's because they have shit going on that they are handling poorly. "they simply aren't putting in any effort" is a symptom, not a fucking cause.

we are talking about art. funny pictures and words and whatever. there is no moral imperative to make it "correctly." you can dislike it, you can even argue against it ("its plagiarism," "its bad for the environment," whatever the hell you want), but don't fucking imply that people who do not meet YOUR threshold of protestant fucking work ethic are somehow morally inferior to you. if you're going to argue about something being bad, pick an argument that isn't fucking bootlicking. work ethic isnt real. hard work is not virtuous. easy things are not sowing evil in people's hearts or whatever the fuck.

"oh sky you're overreacting that's not what they meant-" the person above me literally said in clear terms that sentence structure, vocabulary, and expressing yourself "adequately" are skills only someone lazy and incompetent would struggle with. AND that it's "not fine" to not be able to cultivate those skills. just say you hate mentally disabled folks and go.

PS just. all of my complete rage at seeing the words "lazy and incompetent" aside, this just...isn't true at all. you guys are not doing yourselves any favors by IMAGINING what the beloathed ai artist is probably like and then shitting on him. talk to people that actually make ai art. ask them questions. some people are making shitty art, just like some traditional artists. but some of them actually are very skilled at what they do and spend a lot of time on it. just because it's *different* skills doesn't mean the skills aren't *there.* i certainly wouldn't even know where to begin with a project like @infiniteartmachine.

PS PS the original example of chatgpt and education is irrelevant to the discussion of ai art. like, yeah, asking a robot for the answers prevents you from learning, which is bad when you are explicitly trying to learn and build those skills in school. its not bad like, conceptually. the more equivalent argument would be that it'd be fucked up to submit ai art to a still life class. which is true, but not because AI Art Bad. its just grossly inappropriate and kinda ridiculous in that context.

[pazzispizookies]

— — GUARDED — —

Hey pookies!! I really can’t believe that you guys are so into this series!!Soo… Don’t kill me. Angst needs to happen sometimes, the story couldn’t be all fluff 🫣. I’m so sorry pookies. Be kind ik this isn’t the best🫣🫣

Live reactions are desperately needed!! Love you!!

Pairing: Hopkins transfer Azzi x Hopkins Paige

“Paige, what the hell was that?” Azzi shouted as soon as they were out of her house, her words slurring together.

Paige didn’t look back, just leading her to her car a few more feet away.

Once Paige had them next to her car, she finally turned around to face Azzi.

“Az..I just, I couldn’t see you kiss her like that.” Paige admitted, now a little insecure.

What she did was irrational. It’s sure to be the talk for a few weeks, and Ash would surely say whatever she felt like.

But the way Azzis looking at her, it’s something that makes her heart sting.

The soft lighting coming from the near by streetlight casting over her in the dim warm night.

She’s gorgeous.

“You couldn’t let me?” Azzi huffed out, crossing her arms.

Paige looked down for a second, the feeling of Azzi being mad at her is one that she never wants to feel again.

“Paige. Look at me.” Azzi commanded, watching Paige look at the ground.

she lifted her head up slowly meeting her gaze.

It was full of anger a second ago, but now it’s clouded with confusion, and hurt. The sight makes the blonde swallow.

“What the hell did you care? Why did you get to act all jealous after you were the one fucking flirting with another girl!” Azzi shouted, her words laced with hurt.

Paige took a step forward, “Azzi, I wasn’t-I just”

“You just what? Got bored?” Azzi cut in, tears swelling in her eyes.

Paige wanted to wipe away her pretty tears, knowing she was the one to cause them to spill.

“Az…that’s not fair.” Paige said, her words small.

Azzi scoffed and pinched the bridge of her nose, “I’m an idiot. Really it’s not your fault. I was just stupid to see that clearly you dont give a fuck about me.”

“Are you kidding me Azzi?” Paige shouted.

There were a lot of things Azzi could say, but lying like that wasn’t one.

Paige cared for her more than anyone she’s ever met.

Paige fucking loved her.

“Azzi! You can’t be serious. I trusted you with everything, of course I fucking care about you, hell—I’m pretty sure i’d do anything for you.” Paige yelled, her words coming out broken now.

“yeah well, then why the fuck were you with another girl Paige.” Azzi asked, her words smaller now, hurt showing.

“I only did that because I saw you talking to some guy- and I thought, I just thought-maybe I was wrong.” Paige answered.

“what guy? Christain? Paige.” She let out a huff at the memory, “Paige. That’s an old friend, he’s like practically married, I was only at this fucking party for you. I was looking for you when I ran into him.”

Paige felt gut creep into her at Azzis words.

She was wrong.

She messed everything up.

“i didn’t- I didnt know that.” Paige mumbled out.

Azzi studied her, the way she made herself little, the way she was avoiding eye contact.

“of course you didn’t, you didn’t ask. Instead you went to another girl.” Azzi added,

Paige looked up to meet her, hesitant for a second.

But fuck it.

“Azzi, I was only paying that girl half a fuck of attention because it hurt me so bad that I couldn’t be mad that you were talking to that guy. Because you aren’t mine.”

Azzi’s breath caught, the lump in her throat becoming more apparent. “What?” She breathed out.

Paige shrugged and adverted eye contact back to the ground.

“No Paige, I need you to tell me what you mean.” Azzi said, making sure the girl heard each and every word.

“Azzi, I mean that since the first time we hung out- no not even. Since the first time I fucking talked to you, I wanted you to be in my live forever. I want you. Ive wanted you since I fucking met you. And I’m stupid to think someone like you could feel the same way about me. I mean just look at you…your..perfect.”

Azzi’s stoamch flipped at her words.

She liked her too.

she felt the same way.

They were both to stupid hurting each other to see it.

She pushed up, closing the gap between her and Paige,

“I’m gonna kiss you now, Okay?”

Paige looked up at her, inches away, back pressed against her car, she barely nodded before Azzi closed the last few inches between them.

It started slow, the kiss full of questions.

But when Paige sighed into it, everything became clear.

all the hurt, the confusion, seemed to melt in the moment.

Azzi tilted her head to deepen the kiss, to which Paiges hand found their place on her waist, pulling her ever closer.

Paige cupped Azzis face in her free hand, her thumb brushing against her damp cheek, wiping the remnants of their fight.

Their breaths mingled, warm and shaky, as they pressed closers into each other.

It was a collision of emotions-fierce and gentle all at once.

Azzi let herself wrap her arms around Paige’s neck, pulling her in, never wanting her to go—losing herself in Paige.

The kiss was electric, igniting a spark the had been buried beneath their anger. It was a promise, a release, a a new beginning.

as they finally pulled away, their foreheads resting against each other, the silence spoke volumes.

They both knew the kiss had changed everything.

“Az..” Page whispered soft and breathy.

Azzi felt the warmth of the word between them,

“Let’s go home, Okay?” She asked Paige.

Paige nodded, but she didn’t move, not wanting any space between them ever again.

Azzi pushed off of her, moving to the passenger side seat.

Paige stood against the door for a second, the emotions she had all conflicting each other.

She breathed out, making sure she was sober enough to drive.

She was, everything seeming more clear then ever in that moment.

**

Azzi sat in the passenger seat, one leg tucked to her chest. Her head was pounding, but her heart was racing even more.

Paige looked over at her starting the car, “By the way, I can take you straight home. But I am home alone tonight if you wanna crash,”

Azzi looked over at Paige, her tousled hair, her cheeks and eyes a little red, concern in her sight clear, “I’d rather stay with you,” she said barley above a whisper,

Paige smiled, then nodded, “Okay,” She said starting the car,

***

The buzz of the car was like a lullaby to Azzi, mixed with her overconsumption with alcohol that night, she drifted off shortly.

Paige glanced over once she heard her breathing even out.

Azzi was knocked out cold,

Paige was left alone with her thoughts.

The night had been a lot to process, anger, hurt, and something else between them.

They’d kissed, not a peck. But they’d kiss with more passion then Paige had ever kissed anyone before.

It ment something, it ment that they were crossing the line of friendship, and there was no taking it back.

But it also meant something terrifying, Paige was letting herself be vulnerable, letting Azzi into a part of her no ones touched.

But it was Azzi,

The girl whos seen through her since day one.

So maybe this wasn’t the worst thing they had done, it might have just been the best.

***

“Az? We��re here.” Paige said, opening the passenger door.

She had parked the car as close to her house as she could so Azzi wouldn’t have to walk far.

She stirred awake, “5 more mintues…”

Paige couldn’t help but smile at the girl, “cmon,”

She tugged on Azzis arm, leading her out of the car,

Azzi stumbled all the way up the stairs to Paiges room, barely noticing where she was.

“Just…Lay down for now, we can talk later, okay?” Paige mumbled, guiding Azzi down on her bed.

Azzi barely open her eyes, but her grip on Paiges hand was strong.

“Can you stay?” Azzi whispered,

Paiges heart felt like it couldn’t take anymore, “Of course, Pretty girl”

Azzi smiled lightly, tiredness taking over her,

Paige kicked off her shoes and tugged her blanket over both of them,

Not sure of how comfortable Azzi would be laying next to her, she stilled a little in bed,

But Azzi wasn’t anywhere near uncomfortable, moving her head immediately on Paige’s chest, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“Your hearts beating fast,” Azzi mumbled into her,

Paige looked down at her head, laughing softly, “yea. It is.”

Azzi sighed, closing her eyes, difriting off quickly, moving impossibly closer to Paige.

Page felt at peace.

She wasn’t sure what was going to happen in the morning, if Azzi was gonna regret it.

But for now, the girl laying on her was the only thing in the world that mattered.

Paige found her phone, on the nightstand, turning off the lamp next to her.

She unlocked her phone and sent a text to Caroline,

Paige: hey.

Caroline: funny hearing from you, whats up?

Paige: …umm, Azzis with me tonight, just letting you know

Caroline: I figured, but Paige?

Paige: Yeah??

Caroline: She was hurt, I’d not really know whats going on between you too, but be careful. Don’t hurt her.

Paige: Yeah, I know. I’ll do my best. I promise.

Caroline: Okay, and just a warning, your little scene is causing a few people to talk.

Paige: Figured that’d happen, I dont know how Azzi will feel in the morning, just try to shut down rumors as much as you can, just say we got into a fight or something?

Caroline: l’ll do the best I can, goodnight Paige.

Paige: Night

She locked her phone, putting it down and starring back up at the ceiling.

She felt Azzis breath on her bare torso, the warmth buzzing through her.

Her eyelids became heavy, the alcohol finally taking over.

With that, she closed her eyes.

***

Azzi woke up in a panic,

Last night…..

She kissed Paige.

And Ash.

and Paige took her home…to her house.

Now she was asleep next to her.

Azzi looked over at the blonde hair, she always looked so soft in the mornings, so pure.

But she had to get out. She couldn’t deal with this. Not now.

She scrambled for her phone, the pounding headache making it hard,

But once she found it, opened it and hit call, .

Looking over at Paige again, knocked out cold.

The panic hit worse.

Paige probably just felt bad for her, Right?

She was so experienced with girls,

why would she want Azzi?

Caroline picked up , “Hey…? What’s up.”

“Car, I need you to come pick me up now,” Azzi said in a shaky voice.

“W-what? Why? Did something happen?” Caroline asked, now jolted out of her peace the morning brought.

“I’ll explain everything, just come?” Azzi asked again.

“I’ll be there in 5.” Caroline replied, already standing up.

Azzi ended the call.

She didn’t think this through,

She let herself go to far.

Kissing Paige?

How stupid could that be.

Paige wouldn’t want her like that.

Paige couldn’t.

Because Paige deserved someone who was comfortable with being in love with a girl.

She didnt deserve this. The mess Azzi was.

The kiss seemed to linger on her mouth, the same way she could felt the ghost of Paiges touch on her waist,

Get the places where she put her capable hands,

It was too much.

It was too real.

***

Caroline got there as fast as she could, sending a text to Azzi.

Azzi looked over one last time at Paige,

She couldn’t look at the sight, it made her heart ache.

But Azzi couldn’t let her hurt the blonde, she didn’t deserve that.

It was all too much to process.

She practically flew out to Carolines car, getting in the passenger seat immediately with shaky hands.

Caroline looked over at Azzi, the pure emotion in her eyes.

Without saying anything she took off towards her house,

“Do you wanna talk about it..?” Caroline asked hesitantly, eyes on the road.

Azzi couldn’t hold it in anymore, the tears came out.

Pouring out.

She was mad, frustraction, hurt but healed.

Everything all at once, pouring out of her,

“Oh Az..” Caroline whispered, pulling the car over.

She parked the car on the side of a quiet road,

“Azzi? You need to talk to me.” Caroline said, voice barely audible.

Azzi sat curled up in the seat, her knees brought to her chest as if to protect herself.

She couldn’t talk, didn’t even know what to talk about.

“It’s just..it’s all too much car.” Azzi breathed out, hands shaking slightly, the same hands she wrapped around Paige last night,

Caroline brushed a strand of her out of her slightly damp face, “What’s too much Azzi? I need you to start being honest with me.”

Azzi finally opened her red glossy eyes to look at her, “ I feel….I-I don’t know. I’m so scared.”

Caroline met her eyes, “What are you scared of?” She whispered out, keeping a grounding hand on Azzis arm,

“Paige. She makes me feel…to much.” Azzi said, her breathing evening out slightly.

Caroline’s breath caught slightly, she knew something was going on between them. But hearing Azzi say it aloud made it real.

“To much?” Caroline responded, making the girl continue.

“She-I just feel this way, I fell for her, as stupid as that is. And seeing her last night with another girl-it hurt me. And we aren’t even dating- if she already has that much power over my emotions already when we’re not even..together. Then I cant-I can’t even think about being more with her. It’s too risky.”

Caroline took a second to process what Azzi had said. “Az..it sounds like you feel a lot more for her then a little crush.” She brushed another strand of hair off Azzis face, “you need to understand you both hurt each other last night, she got hurt too. I know it’s scary, but if you feel this strongly over her already…then maybe it’s worth risking your emotions for.”

Azzi looked into her eyes, the words were true. Caroline was right. But that didnt stop the fear in her heart. She couldn’t let herself get hurt. She liked to control things, and Paige was an uncontrolled force.

****

Paige woke up up groggily.

The taste alcohol and the past night heavy on her mouth,

Azzi.

Azzi.

her eyes burst open.

She wasn’t there.

***

Azzi sat in her bed with a tub of ice cream and a notepad, along with a pen.

Caroline offered to come spend the day with her, but Azzi need to think alone.

She took a bite of her ice cream, appreciating the quiet of her room.

The wrote on the paper.

Pros. Cons.

It was silly, but a list has always helped her get thoughts organized when she couldn’t on her own.

Pro 1. Paige made her feel

Con 1. Paige made her feel.

This wasn’t going to be easy.

**

“Hey Paige..” Caroline replied, answering Paige phone call.

“Where- where did she go?” Paige replied, frantic.

“Back home, she needs…some time.”

Paige ran a hand over her face, wishing she could just talk to Azzi. “Fuck. I just, I need to talk to her.”

Caroline sighed. “Paige. she’s not ready, it’s too much for her right now. She scared.”

“Scared? Scared of me?” Paige laughed out, but it was humorless. The thought of Azzi being scared of her was the most painful thought she’d ever have.

“Scared of what you do to her.” Caroline replied.

Paige swallowed, Azzi was scared of her feelings. She knew she wasnt fully comfortable with her sexuality, but she thought they felt the same. After that kiss, there was no way she didn’t.

“She’s being stupid.” Paige returned, hurt clear in her voice. She was lashing out.

“Stop before you say something you regret Paige. I’ll see you tonight at practice.” caroline said ending the call.

The silence rung out through her room,

she still had to see Azzi today.

She needed to get her shit together before that.

Paige stood up, seeing the bed half made were Azzi was resting just an hour earlier.

She could still smell her soft vanilla and lavender perfume on the sheets, the smell haunting her memories filled with last night.

The way Azzi stepped foward to kiss her, then pulled back this morning.

It was confusing, but one thing was clear.

Paige needed her stable in her life, she couldn’t stand this. Knowing Azzi was upset with her. It was something she couldn’t handle.

She needed Azzi.

Which was scary, but the thought of not having her was even worse.

She moved lazily towards the bathroom, turning on the shower. Hoping to wash away the emotions seeping off of her.

She stripped her outfit from the party, undoing her hair that was half tied up, the same hair that Azzi ran her hands through.

She felt her eyes sting, biting back tears.

Stepping into the shower, the warm water hitting her skin.

She stood there.

Just…thinking.

Azzi needed something stable, She needed Paige to be stable.

So if that’s what Paige had to be. She was going to.

During one of their many heart to hearts during the past week, azzi had been honest with her, saying she ran when she was scared, often ending up hurting people with it.

Paige was hurt, but Azzi couldn’t run from her.

***

Ater two hours her list was done.

The pros outweighing the cons.

She took the paper and crumpled it up.

Throwing it across the the room.

She was wrong, she had ran like a little kid scared of themself.

It was wrong of her.

She knew that.

But fuck. Paige was different.

The way she looked in her eyes like she knew everything Azzi was thinking.

The way she touched her gently, but the weight of her hand still strong.

The way she fought for everything, the way she kissed her back last night.

The way she ripped her away from Ash.

It was everything.

Paige was everything.

With that came the cons,

Paige had the power to hurt her.

she could leave Azzi at anytime, and she didn’t know if she could handle that.

Not having Paige in her life would mean that Paige couldn’t leave her life.

She had to see her today.

She had to see the blonde hair her hands were running through last night,

The soft pink lips she kissed last night.

She had to see the eyes that could see through her.

But then another thought came.

What if Paige didn’t care she left that morning?

What if she didn’t want her as much as she said last night?

She was drunk.

Only time would tell.

***

It was 6 pm.

Paige sat in her car.

Practice started in 20 minutes. Or at least was going to, Coach canceled due to the boys breaking one of the hoops.

She got there early. actually finding the queit of her car calming.

she was going to talk to Azzi still.

She had it all planned out.

****

Azzi sat in her bed,

She had gathered herself enough.

She needed to talk to Paige.

She had it all planned out.

***

Paige was going to talk to her, going to explain everything. Lay out everything so Azzi could see that she wasn’t unreliable.

She was ready to come at every question she could ask, ready to fight for her.

She opened up her phone just out of habit, clicking on instagram.

Then she saw it.

Front and center, 30k likes, posted by @Basketballdrama

“Paige Bueckers and Azzi Fudd caught kissing after party?!?” The picture read,

A blurry photo of Azzi and Paige pressed up against her car.

Kissing.

Page starred at her phone in disbelief, her heart racing as she scrolled through her feed.

There it was-a photo of her kissing Azzi,

Her mind racked with questions. How did this happen? Who took the picture? The realization that this photo, was really out there, hit her like bricks.

She felt panic wash over her. This wasn’t just a hidden prombelm for her and Azzi, now it was out for everyone to see.

Azzi.

Azzi would see this.

How would she react?

Paiges stoamch churned at the thought.

As she tried to process everything, her thoughts spiraled.

She knew she had to talk to Azzi , but how could she explain this?

would Azzi understand that this wasn’t something she’d every think of happening. Paige felt lost, caught between losing Azzi and the chaos of the internet’s reaction.

All she wanted to do as protect Azzi , but now it felt like everything was slipping through her fingers.

**

Azzis heart dropped as she opened instagram, her eyes widening in horror at the photo that filled the screen.

There it was-her kissing Paige.

Panic surged though her veins, and she felt like her whole world was curling in on her.

This was the last thing she wanted out in the open.

her mind raced with thoughts of what people would say.

people would talk surely, try to get every bit of drama out.

What if her family saw it? The idea of being outed to everyone made her feel sick.

She was struggling to breathe, the function feeling harder to do every second.

Starring at the photo on the screen, her eyes burning.

This felt like a nightmare come to life.

She squeezed her phone tightly, now standing up to pace her room.

She cursed to herself, the thoughts louder and louder in her brain.

People knew she was gay, people knew kissed Paige.

She knew they would talk, drag her name.

She knew people would makeup lies, she knew it would be worse with them being on the same team.

Their coaches would know, teammates would know. Everyone in the fucking school would know.

She should have never kissed her.

She should have never fallen for her.

Should have stayed focused on things more important.

Not a stupid girl.

because that’s all Paige has ever been.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Take it All Off

Evan “Buck” Buckley x plus size!fem!reader

You show Buck your new outfit and he’s more than happy to show you how much he loves it.

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) body worship, body insecurity

Thanks @the-witty-pen-name for giving me this idea!

You check yourself out in the mirror, turning this way and that, admiring what you look like in the little number that you bought. It somehow looks even better than it did in the dressing room. The top is definitely more low cut and revealing than you would usually go for. It’s a pretty green color and laces up in the front. It shows off more than you usually would, but you have to admit that you love the way you look. Especially paired with the jeans you also just bought.

They hug your body in just the right spots and now you can’t wait for Buck to get home, knowing that he’ll love your new look. He loves you if whatever you want to wear but you know that he especially loves when you wear something tight, the way the fabric hugs your curves. It never fails to make him want to take you right then and there.

You hear the front door open and you tighten the laces to give yourself more cleavage then try your best to put on a flirty face as you see Buck enter the room in the reflection of the mirror. His eyes widen as he gets a good look at you and you continue to fake flirty faces at him.

He marches over and grabs hold of your arm, turning you around to face him. His eyes rake over your entire body, lust filling them as he does so. He doesn’t know what the occasion is, but he’s not going to question it. He thinks you look fucking hot.

He was already hard beyond belief from the photo you sent of the outfit while he was at work, but now he can barely hold it in any longer seeing you in person. He’s got to have you and he’s got to have you right now. He’s going to worship every inch of your body, to show you just how much he loves it. Especially because he knows that you need reassurance sometimes.

“Fuck,” is all he’s able to say as his eyes travel back up to your cleavage. “I mean-fuck-” He’s at a loss for words and your cheeks heat at what you assume is a compliment.

“You like it?” You ask and his eyes travel back up to yours, giving you a look as if to ask if you’re serious.

“Love it,” he replies. “Let me show you how much.” There’s no way you’re going to say no to that. He sits at the end of the bed and helps you straddle his waist, his hands resting on your waist, his favorite place to hold onto. Your arms warm around his neck as he pulls you in for a kiss.

He’s warning you up like always, being gentle before getting rough like he knows you like. You’re the one who always takes it there but he loves giving you the control. He just wants his girl to be happy and he doesn’t care what he has to do to make it happen.

“I’m going to fucking worship you,” he whispers against your lips. “Gonna show you just how much I love you. All of you. Because as much as I love that top, honey, it has to come off.”

Your cheeks heat at his words and he pulls you in for another kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist tightly as his tongue flicks into your mouth. It plays with yours and you can’t help but moan at the feeling, needing him now more than ever.

He continues to kiss you as if his life depends on it as he unlaces the top, going as slowly as possible, wanting to savor your kisses as he does so. Once he’s got it all undone, he pulls back as he pushes it off of your shoulders, the thing falling down your arms and clattering to the floor.

Buck takes a moment to take in your now bare chest. He’s always so taken aback by how absolutely beautiful you are, almost like he’s looking at you for the first time. He always feels like the luckiest man in the world and he can’t believe that out of all the men on this earth, you chose him. And he’ll never take that for granted.

He leans you back just a touch as his hands rest against your bare back. He leans down and pressed feather light kisses to your shoulder, peppering it with them before making a line of them across your chest to the other shoulder. In between, he whispers compliments into your skin, wanting you to know exactly what it is about you that he loves so much.

“Your skin is so soft,” he says as his lips find their way to your neck, tilting your head to the side so he has more access. “And you smell so good.” He takes a deep breath through his nose to get a whiff. “I love when you spray your perfume on my clothes.”

“I’ll do it more often,” you reply as he buries his face into your neck.

“Please do.” He presses another kiss to your neck and another and another before he goes in for a hard suck, making you gasp before melting into him. He knows how much you love when he leaves his mark on you.

He continues to lick and suck on your neck as your hands rest on his shoulder blades. And when he bites down, you let out a loud moan as your fingers curl, your nails digging into his back. He’s holding back a smug smile as he hears how good he’s making you feel.

Your back arches into his as he bites down again and again, making you moan over and over until you can’t take it anymore, orgasming as he gives you one more bite before pulling away.

As Buck picks you up and carries you over to the bed, you know that this is far from over. And you’re happy to let him do anything he wants to you. For once, he’s in charge and you’re looking forward to lying down and taking it.

His hands go to unbutton your jeans and he pulls them down your legs with a little struggle but he eventually gets them off, followed by your panties which both end up in a pile on the floor. He takes a moment to take in your naked body before taking off his own clothes, throwing them to the side where yours have been discarded.

Before you get a chance to look at him, he places himself on top of you and takes your hands in his before kissing your lips. This one is more gentle than the others but it still makes your head spin, especially when he smiles into it because you make him that happy. You really can’t believe you found the perfect man.

Just when you’re getting into it, he pulls away and goes back to kissing your body again, whispering more compliments into your skin, making it heat.

“I love your stretch marks,” he says as he lets his fingers dance along the grooves of the ones that line your hips. He tells you this all the time but feels the need to every time he thinks about it because he just wants to assure you that he loves you just the way you are. “I know you don’t, but I love them. They not only give you character, but they make you you.”

You can feel yourself tearing up and it makes you feel silly considering what you’re about to do but you can’t help it. Buck always knows exactly what you need to hear. He wipes away your tears then pressed a kiss to every single stretch mark he can find and you can’t help but feel yourself tear up again, knowing for sure that this is the most you’ve ever felt loved in your life.

When he comes back up, he peppers your face with kisses, letting you know that you can cry if you need to, wiping the tears away as you fall.

“I just love you,” you tell him which makes him smile before he leans in for yet another kiss.

“I love you too,” he replies and when he pulls back to look you in the eyes again, he knows that you’re ready. He goes to reach for a condom but you’re quick to stop him and he hopes that he hasn’t done something to upset you.

“I don’t want to use one. I want to feel you. I want it to feel more intimate.” He smiles again as he leaves the condom on the bedside table. Neither of you have ever done this before but you have to admit that it feels freeing.

You both watch as he gets inside you-just the tip so you’re not overwhelmed-and he slowly starts to thrust. The whole thing feels so foreign but you both have to admit that feels so good.

Buck’s pace picks up just a bit more and the fact that you already look like you’re close encourages him to go even faster, even harder. You’re already coming undone, feeling like you could come apart any second. And Buck’s encouraging words are definitely helping.

“You look so pretty, angel. Sound so pretty. Make some more sounds for me?” His hands grab hold of your hips, nails digging into your skin as he goes even harder, pounding into you again and again, his sweet words contradicting his movements.

You can feel him, all of him and you’re sure that he’s never been this rough with you before but you definitely don’t hate it. You love that he doesn’t feel like he has to treat you like you’re fragile. Just because you’ve felt insecure in the bedroom before doesn’t mean that you don’t like it rough from time to time.

“That’s it, just like that,” Buck encourages as he watches you moan again and again. You buck your hips against his as your hands move up to his shoulders. He catches you off guard when his hands slide underneath you, maneuvering you so he can get even farther inside, and you whine, tears pricking your eyes again as you can practically feel him in your stomach. “Look at you. Taking all of me so well. Such a good girl for me.”

You know this is going to be the shortest you’ve ever lasted, but you can feel yourself getting progressively more tired as his thrusts get more intense. Your orgasm is approaching as your eyes start to get heavy.

He’s still going as you reach your peak, knowing that you don’t have any more in your, feeling your body getting lip. So as you’re coming down, getting progressively more tired as Buck pulls out, you don’t even have the energy to move when he starts to clean you up. You just lie there as he cleans himself up.

And when he comes back from disposing of the towel, he helps you get into the bed where he pulls you to him, bare skin against bare skin. He kisses you again and again as his fingers dance lazily along your back before you both eventually fall asleep in each other’s arms, thinking that you’re the luckiest people in the world to have each other.

[formulaonecrumbs]

hello again :) how about an angst where oscar and reader are high school sweethearts, but the reader starts to notice that fame is beginning to get to oscar’s head and during yet another one of their arguments, he ends up implying that the reader is a gold digger who’s only with him for the money and fame. this hurts her deeply, especially because she’s been by his side long before he even had a shot at making it to formula 1.

how fucking dare you?

Oscar Piastri x high-school sweetheart!reader

summary: oscar lets fame get to his head and accuses reader of being with him for the wrong reasons. it breaks everything.

warnings: explosive argument, accusations, swearing, heartbreak, breakup, angst with no comfort, oscar being a dick.

A/N: not proof read SORRY. i made it as angsty as possible. if u wanted a happy ending for this WHOOPS. this is what u get it 🤷‍♀️ enjooyyy!!!

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

they weren’t always like this.

once upon a time, it was easy. gentle. warm. she was the girl sitting cross-legged in the garage, watching him tighten bolts on his kart. the girl who brought him slushies after races and kissed the grease off his cheek. the girl who stayed up late to quiz him on school stuff he’d missed because of training, who snuck out just to lie under the stars with him and listen to him dream.

he used to say things like “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

now he barely looked her in the eye.

everything had changed. slowly at first. one shift at a time, so quiet she almost didn’t notice. the silence between texts getting longer. the way his smile felt more like a photo than a feeling. the way she had to ask to see him, like she was some fan trying to schedule in a moment.

but it all built up. and now it was spilling over.

“you’ve been so fucking distant, oscar,” she snapped, standing in the middle of his too-clean apartment, her voice already shaking. “i don’t even recognize you anymore.”

he barely glanced up from where he stood near the kitchen island, arms crossed. “maybe that’s because you only liked me when i was failing.”

she blinked. “what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“it means,” he said, sharper now, “that maybe you just liked feeling needed. liked being the one who got to play the part of ‘the supportive girlfriend.’ maybe it made you feel important.”

her heart cracked right down the middle.

“don’t fucking do that,” she said, her voice cracking. “don’t act like i was never there for the real you. i’ve only ever wanted you to win.”

he scoffed. “funny. doesn’t feel like that lately. feels like all you do is complain.”

she took a step back, hands curling into fists. “i complain because you treat me like a stranger, oscar. because i wait days for a reply. because you forget our calls and cancel our plans and talk to me like i’m a fucking burden.”

he didn’t answer. just looked away.

“say something,” she begged.

“i don’t know what you want me to say,” he muttered.

“i want you to admit you’ve changed. that this has changed. that you don’t even try anymore.”

his jaw clenched. “you think this is easy for me? you think i’m just out here living the dream with no stress?”

“no,” she said quietly. “i think you’re out here forgetting who you were before it all. forgetting who stood by you when nobody else even knew your fucking name.”

and then he said it.

the words she’d never thought would come from his mouth.

“maybe you’re just here because of who i am now.”

the silence after was suffocating.

her chest felt like it had caved in.

“what?” she whispered.

he didn’t repeat it. but he didn’t take it back either.

“are you fucking serious?” her voice rose, cracked, broke. “you think i’m some gold-digging fame-chaser? me?”

“i don’t—”

“no. fuck you. don’t you dare backpedal now. don’t you dare twist everything we’ve ever had into that.”

she was crying now. cheeks flushed, hands trembling. “you really think i’ve stayed through all the lonely nights, the stress, the distance, the fucking silence, because i wanted money or attention? i’ve been in love with you since you were that nervous fifteen-year-old with calloused hands and a stupid crooked smile who thought he wasn’t good enough.”

he looked frozen. guilty. but still didn’t move.

“you don’t get to rewrite history like that,” she said, her voice quiet again. dead even. “you don’t get to make me the villain just because it’s easier than admitting you fucked up.”

she grabbed her bag, wiping at her cheeks as she moved toward the door.

“you don’t even see it, do you?” she whispered. “you’ve been gone for a long time, oscar. this version of you… i don’t love him. i don’t know him.”

she turned the doorknob.

“wait,” he said finally, voice small.

she paused.

“i didn’t mean it.”

she closed her eyes. “yeah, you did.”

then she left.

he didn’t follow.

he just stood there, surrounded by everything he thought he wanted.

and none of it felt like home.

THE END :>

[leashybebes]

Idk, maybe it is a little odd but "♟: Patching up a wound", if you want :)

may i offer you a little superhero au in these trying times? don't blame me, blame lou's goddamn superman jawline

"Buck, I'm sending someone to your apartment," Athena says, with no preamble.

"Uh…what? Who?"

"Don't ask questions. He needs stitches."

"He needs stitches? Shouldn't you send him to Hen or Chim or - or a hospital?"

"What did I just say about asking questions? Hen and Chimney aren't options. He should be with you in fifteen minutes. He'll have equipment, but get your first aid kit just in case."

"Wait, Athena - "

"Bye, Buck."

The night is as dark and quiet as it ever gets in downtown LA. Buck paces up and down the loft a couple of times, never straying far from the front door. Which is why he doesn't hear anything to give him any warning before there's a single, loud thump from the balcony, followed by a groan that's audible even through the closed glass.

By the time he gets to the door, a figure is pulling itself to its feet, using Buck's outdoor furniture for help.

What the fuck, Buck thinks, but opens the door anyway.

"Athena send you?" he checks.

"A lot of men fall from the roof onto your balcony?" A deep voice asks, sounding pained. What the hell has Athena gotten him into?

"Fair," Buck says, and hurries to get one shoulder under the guy's arm, hauling him further upright and helping him stagger inside.

In the light of the loft, he can see that the guy has some kind of cowl covering most of his face, just a strong jaw where a bruise is starting to blossom and a cleft chin and a pair of pink lips set into a firm line. The cowl is the same dark blue as the rest of his outfit which is some kind of…jumpsuit maybe, with flashes of silver at the wrists and - hooooooly shit.

"Holy shit," Buck breathes, unable to help himself. "You're The Pilot!"

"No autographs, kid."

"Athena hates you!"

"Sergeant Grant and I have a complicated professional relationship," The Pilot says, while Buck bites back approximately a million questions. "She said you would be able to help."

"I mean - I haven't actually given anyone stitches before," Buck admits. "But I've watched Hen and Chim - I work with them, they're paramedics - I've watched them do it like a hundred times. I don't know why Athena didn't send you to one of them…" he says, fishing a little.

"Long story," The Pilot says, and Buck helps him get seated on one of the kitchen stools. "You were closer."

"Okay," Buck says. "What's the damage?"

"Knife got through a couple of plates in the suit."

"Wait, this thing is armor plated? That's so cool!"

"Glad you approve. Here." The Pilot pulls at a previously invisible join in his suit, revealing a long gash across his ribs. It's bleeding sluggishly, not too deep, but the skin around it is angrily red.

"That might get infected," Buck says, chewing his lip.

"Need you to clean it. Please."

"Okay," Buck says. "Do you want some water?"

"That…would be great, actually."

He drinks from the glass of water Buck hands him while Buck works on cleaning the wound. He tries his best to be gentle but the guy doesn't even flinch. Which, of course he doesn't. He's a literal superhero. There is a literal superhero in Buck's loft and he can't help it anymore.

"I've seen you before," he says. "On scenes. I'm a firefighter."

"I know."

"Athena, right, of course." Buck washes his hands again and gets what he needs from the first aid kit.

"Before we get started, can I ask you a question?"

The Pilot shrugs. "You can ask."

Buck takes a deep breath. "Where do you get your suits? And why do you do this? And can you really fly? And what's your real name?"

Through the gap in the cowl, pretty blue eyes blink at him. "That wasn't a question. I can't tell you where I get the suits or what my real name is. I can fly light aircraft and helicopters but I can't fly fly. And I do this because people need help, and I can help."

"That's so cool. My name's Evan Buckley, by the way."

"Hi, Evan Buckley." The Pilot's lips curve into a smile for the first time. "Great to meet you. Now can you stitch me up before I bleed on your floor?"

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute - Kid's Story - 5

Source for pic

Imperfect 5 🔞

Word Count: 4531

Tags and Summary can be found here.

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Notes: It seems like every new chapter I post from this story has a NSFW warning. Do I regret it? Not at all... But then again, and I can't stress this enough, let's just enjoy these chapters for a while!

Here's a Spotify Playlist I created for this story if you want to check it out!

Masterlist

Divider by @cafekitsune

Kid: Come over, Sparkles. I want to show u smth.

The text comes after lunch, at the time you usually show up at the garage. Kid must’ve realized you were a no-show and sent you the message. You don’t answer, ghosting him so he understands you’re still slightly pissed at him, but just the fact that he reached out means that he wants to move on. 

You actually consider not going because things with Kid are becoming frustratingly weird. You’ve been flirting since the first day you met, but it’s clear that all this tension needs an outlet. And if he’s not willing to let the attraction run its course, then it’s bound to explode. 

Plus, you still don’t know the exact reason he pushed you away yesterday, other than the lame explanations he provided. 

So, is it wise to be standing outside the garage in the middle of an infernal heatwave when you already know you won’t be able to control yourself near Kid? 

Probably not. 

But here you are. 

The air outside is stifling. There’s not even a hint of a breeze, and the newscaster recommended that the population remain indoors unless it was absolutely necessary to leave the coolness of your home. Is it absolutely necessary? 

Not at all. 

And yet, here you are. 

Because your reasoning is neither rational nor enlightened where Kid is involved, a heatwave would be no different matter. There’s a yearning inside you for this man that you don’t quite understand. Frankly, you don’t even want to give it too much thought, afraid of it being more real than what you’re willing to admit. 

You’re dressed in light clothes, thin material, and a lot of exposed skin, yet sweat is already dripping from your nape to your back, from your temples to your neck, and into your cleavage. It’s unbearably hot.

The garage gate and door are both closed, and you hope that inside, the air feels cool and fresh instead of damp and smothering. You quickly realize that it’s only wishful thinking when you push open the scalding hot steel door and are greeted with nothing but a waft of warm air. 

“Kid?” you try, ignoring the churning sensation in your stomach.

“Back here.”

Closing the door and taking a deep, calming breath, you walk towards Victoria, dropping your purse on the nearest workbench and reveling in the slight drop in temperature. You’re casually wiping the sweat accumulated on your neck when you see him. Kid is leaning over the open hood of Victoria, loud music blasting in the garage, and two fans blowing hot air around. 

He’s fucking shirtless. 

Denim jeans hang low on his waist, and his back muscles bend and ripple as he tweaks something inside the hood. He’s glistening with sweat, beads dripping shamelessly from his damp hair to his broad back. When he turns, the world tilts, and you stop breathing. 

You’re ogling. You know he’s going to tease you for it, but you can’t tear your eyes away. 

Most of the sleeveless shirts you’ve seen him wear allowed you to glimpse the extent of the scar that runs from his neck to his chest. What you didn’t know is that he has another one running from under his pec and across his stomach, disappearing into his jeans. 

How far does that one go?

And holy fucking shit, this shouldn’t come as a surprise, but he’s freaking ripped. All beefy, robust muscle with broad shoulders and defined everything! 

You have to swallow hard so you don’t drool, curse, or both, but Kid’s not teasing you for all the ogling you’re doing. He’s ogling you back. 

“Fuckin’ hot, eh?” he mutters, not a drop of amusement in his deep, rumbling voice. 

“Torrid.” Is he referring to the weather?

Are you?

A few charged seconds pass, but neither of you moves to alleviate the tension, so you speak. “What did you want to show me?”

That about breaks the spell, because Kid blinks twice, and then his shit-eating grin makes an appearance, making sure the kaleidoscope of freaking, stupid butterflies living in your stomach takes flight all at once. 

The hell? Why butterflies? Up until now, all the ‘stirrings’ had been located in your lower abdomen, or even lower than that. Butterflies in the stomach mean something else. Something you don’t want to face at the moment, so instead, you force your legs to walk forward when Kid moves to the side and points inside the hood. 

“We’re givin’ Victoria her heart today.” Your mouth slackens, and you let out an elated whoop before rushing the rest of the steps. Sure enough, inside the hood stands a beast of an engine. It’s so big, it looks like it barely fits. Tubes twist and turn from its sides like veins giving it life, and sure enough, it does look alive. Like a breathing, living part of Victoria. It looks powerful enough to roar on its own. 

“It looks good!” You wish you could add something, but you don’t know the first thing about engines, anyway. 

“Sweetheart, it looks better than good. It’s fuckin’ epic. This right here is a 426 HEMI V8.” You raise your brow, but the way Kid is talking about it must mean it’s a hell of an engine. “Loud as fuck, capable of makin’ the ground shake when ye start her up.”

You nod and smile, and Kid realizes he’s losing you. “It’s a powerhouse of a fuckin’ engine.”

You nod again and let out a strained chuckle. “Okay, okay, I get it.” You don’t.

Kid grunts. “Imagine this. Yer at a bar, drinkin’ a few beers–”

“Cocktails. I might be drinking cocktails if I’m at a bar. And who’s with me–”

“Don’t matter!” Kid sighs, his thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose as you stifle a laugh at how easily you always manage to rile him up. “Yer drinkin’ a few cocktails,” he grunts, “and a guy sits beside ye. He looks nice, a smooth talker, buys ye another drink, slowly tries to win ye over.”

You nod, biting back the amusement and the witty words, just to see where he’s going with this. 

“He’s okay, basic. That’s yer base engine. Finishes the job, don’t impress, yer not gonna call him back.” Kid winks, and you snort, leaning your hip against Victoria so you can stare at him. 

“Now…” Kid’s chuckle turns devious. “This mean motherfucker right here is the one that demands yer attention. He’s not nice, not even much of a talker, let alone a smooth one. He intrigues ye, impresses ye.” Kid leans over, the musky scent of his sweat overpowering the metallic scent that usually accompanies him. You have to force your eyes to remain locked with his instead of dropping to his lips. 

“He not only finishes the job, but makes sure ye finish first.” Kid’s eyes do drop to your lips, and your breath hitches. “And second… and third. Ye’ll definitely be calling him again.”

Somehow, you find your voice amid the suffocating heat - an impossible task since his words travel straight to your core. “So, your engine is the dangerous boyfriend you don’t bring home for the holidays?”

“Aye.” Kid’s breath fans your eyelids, and you catch a glimpse of his twitching hand. “And he’ll ruin all the other engines for ye. No other will measure up.” His jaw ticks and his throat bobs. “He’ll wreck ya.”

Fuck. You’re not talking about engines anymore, are you?

“I still want to try it…” you breathe out. As soon as you see Kid flinch and something dark cross his eyes, his body language already anticipating that he’s about to put distance between the two of you, you bite your lower lip in regret. Then, instead of giving him a chance to deflect and escape, you pivot. “Let’s hear it purr, then.”

He watches you for another moment with that unreadable expression in his eyes, then nods, pulling away and breaking the spell. 

“Grab yer panties, they’re gonna wanna drop.” You can’t help but chuckle as Kid sits in the driver’s seat, the leather creaking slightly and adjusting to his weight. You can’t take your eyes off him, though. His prosthetic hand wraps around the steering wheel while the other one finds the gear stick, wiggling it to neutral as his leg muscles tighten, pressing the pedal.

Then, his hand rises to the keys in the ignition, and he makes eye contact, a cheeky grin commandeering his mouth, though something darkens his gaze as his eyes meet yours. When he flicks his wrist and Victoria awakens, the whole garage trembles. 

It’s loud. It’s powerful. She’s a beast, just like he said she’d be. 

Kid presses the gas pedal down a few times, and you can practically feel the heat bursting from the engine. Her roar envelops you and sends a shiver down your spine. Her heart is beating to life, and fuck it, yours is right there along for the ride. 

“Ye hear her purr?” Kid gloats, his eyes darkening even more as he takes you in. 

“That’s not purring, Kid. She’s a beast trying to escape its enclosure.” Your hand makes contact with Victoria, and it trembles, sending shivers up and down your spine. You’re in awe. “She’s perfect.” 

Kid is still watching you, but his grin falters, and he lets out a curse so low you barely make it out. He turns off the ignition and gets out, stopping beside you, his frame towering over yours.

You look at him with flushed cheeks. Watching Kid handle Victoria like that was way more arousing than you thought it would be. With a shaky inhale, you press your thighs together to try and alleviate some of the tension there.

Kid notices. Of course he does. 

He grins again, closes the hood, and takes one step closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. “Told ya ye’d drop yer panties.”

You can't focus on anything else now. There’s only Kid and the smoldering intensity of his eyes. Victoria feels warm to the touch, but it's nothing compared to the raging fire that's consuming your very being. 

“Kid.” His name comes out of your lips like a prayer. A whisper of a word, a plea. 

He hesitates, his eyes piercing you as his throat bobs. His hand is on Victoria's hood, and it's inching closer to yours. There's a battle somewhere inside him; you can see it clearly. His body inches closer to yours in agonizingly slow movements as his lips form a scowl and the lines between his brows tighten.

Then your hands touch. It's electric. 

Kid closes his eyes for a brief second and exhales deeply. “Fuck it.”

Both his hands find purchase on the back of your thighs as he lifts you up and sets you down on Victoria's hood. Then his flesh hand curls around the back of your neck, fingers entwining with your hair. Your breaths mingle, and he lets out a guttural noise, trying to hold on to any semblance of restraint. 

He can't. 

His lips crash into yours with longing and desperation, drawing a whimper from your mouth. Your hands grip his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped indents on his skin. More. You need more. 

Kid slots himself in the middle of your thighs, and you wrap your legs around his waist, bringing him even closer to your core. You both groan at the touch as it sends shivers up and down your body. His fingers curl around your hair, and he grips it, tilting your head so that he can deepen the kiss. 

A flick of his tongue and a nibble on your lower lip have you panting, allowing him to explore as he takes your tongue in his. Your palms find taut, hard muscles, firm to the touch, and hotter than a furnace. When his prosthetic hand cups your breast, you roll your hips and grind your cores together, melting into another whimper. 

“Fuck,” Kid mutters against your mouth, and you pull him back into the kiss. You don't want to give him time to think this through, too afraid he'll push you away again. 

“Let go,” you whisper between rolls of your tongue, your hands expertly unbuckling his belt. Kid hesitates, pulling back, and you inhale sharply as your fingers tremble against the button of his jeans. 

Then he breathes, closing his eyes. When he opens them back up, it's all fire and desire again. Hands find the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and getting rid of it. His mouth sucks and bites your nipple through the fabric of the bra and you chant his name in a moan. He curses low against your skin, peppering bites and suckling on every bit of it, muttering in a voice so thick with accent so pronounced you can barely make out a sane word. 

You arch your back for a moment, melting into his touch, and then your hand slips inside his boxers. He grunts against your neck, and his hands tighten their grip on your waist when you squeeze him. He's hard as a rock, girthy and veiny, and you whimper with anticipation. “Kid, I want you.” Your words sound like a prayer again, like a hymn you want to sing over and over. 

“Aye, fuck, I want ye too.”

And any doubt you had about him pushing you away again vanishes as his hand finds its way inside the waistband of your bottoms. His breath hitches, and his words are like gravel in your ears. “Yer soaked.” You can only hum incoherently as his fingers stroke your core, pushing your panties to the side and pressing lightly against your throbbing clit. 

“Oh, God,” you moan loudly, tilting your head back and stroking him at the same rhythm as he fingers you. 

“Yer gonna scream my name?” Kid pants against your ear, and you barely register it. He's taking up all the space, his scent, his body, his fingers; God, his fingers. “Use yer words.” He pinches your clit with his index finger and thumb, and you cry out in pleasure. 

“Yes, Kid, yes!”

You're nearly there. The tension has been building up so high and coiled so tight, you know you're going to fall fast. Your head lolls forward against his shoulder as you let out a lot of incoherent words and pants. 

Almost… almost. 

BANG! 

“Fuck!” 

THUD! 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” 

CLANG! 

“Jesus Christ!”

Kid stops. You bite your lower lip, horrified. Then, you both look towards the entrance of the garage and freeze. Killer is covering his eyes with one hand, and the other one is outstretched, trying to find the garage door and knocking over gallons of oil, tools, and everything in his path. 

“For crying out loud, you two! Doors have locks!” His voice is about an octave higher than it should be, and he keeps banging into stuff until he lets out another string of curses and gives up. Opening his eyes, he finds the door and leaves, flustered, embarrassed, and stressed. Curses still flying about.

Kid groans and exhales heavily while you stifle your snickers against his chest. Unfortunately, the tension of the moment has dissipated in a cloud of comedic relief, but you know it won't take much to build it back up. 

Your eyes are still glinting with mirth when you look up at Kid, cupping his cheeks in your hands so he can look at you. 

Your stomach lurches and your heart nearly skips a beat with what you find there. Kid is withdrawn again. His eyes bear a detached coldness accentuated by the downturned scowl on his lips. You're already shaking your head before he even speaks. 

“This was a mistake.” Fuck. “It was the heat, the fuckin’ tension,” Kid grunts, running a hand over his face and handing you your top with the other. “We can't do this,” he hisses. 

There it is. He’s pushing you away again. 

“Why the hell not?” you counter, crumpling the top in your hands, demanding that he look at you while all he's doing is avoiding your gaze. 

“I told ye why before!”

“It’s not good enough! Don’t push me away, Kid…” You sigh. “We don’t have to commit to anything, and it also doesn’t need to be a one-time thing if you don’t want it to be. We can just take it one step at a time, see where it goes.”

Kid shakes his head, his eyes on your legs as he tries to find his words. “I…”

“Let’s just give it a go…” You place your hand against the hard planes of his chest. You mean what you said. You might be turning the order of things around and starting something at the end, but it’s okay. Kid doesn’t strike you as the type to commit to a serious relationship anyway. One step at a time feels like the right pacing. “What do you think?”

He sighs, his flesh hand raises up and hovers over yours. He seems conflicted, and for a moment, you believe he’s about to hold your hand in his, to let you in. But then he scrunches his brows, curses, and shoves your hand away from him. “I'm all dark, aye? Yer light! Yer good! I wreck things.” Kid disentangles himself from your legs, buttons his pants and belt buckle, and heads straight for the cabinet in search of a bottle. 

“That's not true.” Your words burn your throat as you slide off the hood of Victoria, following him. 

The bottle slams against the workbench with enough strength to almost shatter it as he turns to you. “Don't pretend to know me. Ye don't know who the fuck I am. What I'm capable of.”

You stomp towards him, eyes blazing with fury, the heat of desire replaced by rage. “That's not what I was implying!” Kid's jaw clenches, and his eyes lose a bit of their edge. “I'm the one who’s not like that! I'm not all light! Don't put me on a fucking pedestal because I don't care for the fall!” You dress your top with trembling fingers and can't quite tell if the prickling behind your eyes is fury or sadness. “God!”

“We can't happen,” Kid groans, taking a sip from the scotch. “It's too fuckin’ complicated.”

“You're the one making it complicated! What happened to fun?” But as soon as the words leave your mouth, you know without a shadow of a doubt that you don't want just fun. Somewhere along those lazy afternoons working on Victoria, you really warmed up to Kid. 

You like him. 

“We're friends, Sparkles. Let's not fuck that up.” There's a finality to his words, signaling the end of the discussion. You're fucking pissed. 

“Is that really the problem?” Kid doesn't answer you, his gaze hardens, and he takes another sip. “Fine.” Turning on your heel, you head towards the door. “I just think you're too much of a coward to give whatever we have a shot.”

-*-

Kid paces the garage back and forth. He tried to work on Victoria again after you left, but he couldn't concentrate long enough to do it. Your words echoed in his head like a beacon of clarity. 

A coward. 

A fucking coward. You were right, obviously. Every one of his hook-ups had been just that, hook-ups. Nothing flashy or big, nothing that makes him think or feel. Just a way to blow off steam. 

But you… Fuck. You make him feel everything. It's like you've clawed your way inside his chest and refuse to leave. It's like you're in every single thought he has, from the moment he gets up to the moment his head hits the pillow. 

He knows you're not just a fling. He understands that you're no simple hook-up. You're real. You're something so good he knows you're not for him. He doesn't deserve goodness. 

Not after what he did. 

Kid smashes the bottle of scotch he's been nursing against the far wall, not caring about broken glass or spilled liquid. His hand flies to his pocket, and his finger hovers above Killer's contact for a few seconds. 

He could vent. Killer is the best listener. But he's also the best at delivering hard truths, and damn it… Not tonight. 

He scrolls and frowns when he finds the contact he's looking for. He picks up after the third ring. 

“Well, well. Eustass Kid. It's been a while.”

“Cut the shit, Apoo. I need a location and the time it starts,” Kid growls into the phone, his hand busy tapping the workbench. 

“Motherfucker, you haven't called in months, and you think I can get you a slot, just like that?” Apoo snickers. 

“I know ye can. People pay good money for the show I put on.” 

He fucking hates Apoo. But he needs this, he needs him for this. 

“Fine. Midnight. Abandoned warehouse near the docks. You know the place.”

Kid doesn't answer in confirmation, he just turns off the call and throws the phone into the workbench. Gripping the edge of it with both hands, he lets his head hang, his eyes closing shut as the echo of your words blurs the edges of his mind. 

“Fuck!” Kid shouts, banging the workbench with his prosthetic hand and gritting his teeth. He allows himself another five minutes of mindless self-loathing. Then he grabs the keys to his bike and leaves the garage.

-*-

The first punch shakes him up. 

The man who delivered it is scrawny but as fast as a fucking mouse. Kid smirks. The pain from the jab spreads slowly across his jaw, rattling the bones in his head. 

It’s not enough.

The acrid scent of sweat is barely noticeable over the pungent tang of the iron - blood. For a moment, the sounds from the cheers drown out the echo of your words, and all Kid can focus on is the pain. 

“Finish him off, Eustass!” someone yells.

“He’s a fucking wimp!” another voice.

The crowd rounds up the blood-splattered ring. If, to some, the gesture might feel suffocating and overwhelming, to Kid, it’s just fuel to his rage. It’s exactly what he needs. 

The little mouse hits him with another uppercut, and Kid keeps grinning. He lets him have his fun, and it’s not until Kid feels like he’s not getting what he needs from this lanky piece of shit that he finally strikes. 

One punch from Kid, and it’s over. 

The crowd cheers, and Kid scowls. It’s not enough. “Next fucker!” he roars, and the crowd roars back with him.

They come and come again, sometimes in groups of two or three. And Kid finishes them off, one after another, until his knuckles are a raw mess of flesh and bruises; until his eyes feel heavy and his mouth is sticky with blood. 

He fights dirty. Not fair or pretty. He fights like a man who’s got nothing to lose - who already lost everything. 

And as the night wears on, he realises none of this is helping. He doesn’t feel better, he doesn’t feel relieved. 

He just feels empty.

-*-

“Why is he so stubborn?” You thank the waitress for the drink and then shove the straw into the plastic cup, ignoring the screeching agony it produces, sloshing the liquid around with it. 

Killer shrugs, his straw hidden behind the Metallica bandana he wears today, and you hear him slurping his drink before he answers you. 

“That’s the million-dollar question,” he mumbles with a heavy sigh. “I’ve known him most of our lives, and that’s a quality he was born with.”

You take out the straw and continue to stab the lid of the plastic cup as if it personally offended you. 

“I just don’t get it! He keeps sending me mixed signals. He pushes me away, but then flirts back. He doesn’t want to commit, but he also doesn’t want to have a little bit of fun. What does he want?” With one last stab, the plastic lid groans and breaks. You curse and shove the drink away, not really thirsty anyway. 

Killer leans back on the red plastic bench of the diner you’re sitting in. He was the one who called, but you started to vent about Kid the moment you both sat down. It’s like he knew you needed to talk. 

“Kid…” Killer seems to be gathering his thoughts before continuing. “He’s difficult. He doesn’t like vulnerability and avoids feelings like the plague.”

You grunt in agreement, having been a witness to his actions firsthand. 

“He’ll never admit it, but you’re good for him. I see it,” he lets out a small chuckle. “Hell, I’ve told him this.”

“Whatever,” you mumble and steal a fry from Killer’s portion since you told the waitress you didn’t want any. “He didn’t seem very interested in continuing whatever it was we started. I'm not even sure where we are in our friendship since I called him a coward. I’m so pissed at him.”

“He’s going to want to move past what happened without even addressing it. Next time you see him, it’s like nothing was ever wrong.”

“Wow, that’s healthy.”

“It’s how he always dealt with things. It’s his way of escaping, of avoiding.” Killer shrugs once but then pins you with his tantalizing blue gaze, your name leaving his lips softly, demanding your attention. “Don’t give up on him.”

The knot in your stomach tightens. You don’t want to give up on Kid, but does he want you to keep pushing?

“Why is he like this? He told me he was dark… that he wrecks things. What happened to make him think that?”

Killer turns to the window, watching cars wind by for the longest time. You keep stealing his fries, waiting for his answer. 

“I can’t be the one to share that with you. It has to come from him,” he says, and there’s a finality to his words that stops you from inquiring further, so you nod. “But he’s very hard on himself and doesn’t think he deserves good things. Prove him wrong, City Girl.” The small lilt in his voice tells you he’s smiling, even though you can’t see it.

You exhale deeply and snatch another fry. Killer’s shoulders shake with mirth as he pushes the basket of food closer to you. “So, you’re telling me I should just stomp inside the garage and kick some sense into his stubborn butt?”

“Yes. And if you’re going to actually do that, please let me tag along. I’d love a video.” You snort at his words and pop another fry into your mouth. 

“Prove him wrong…” you mutter, deep into your thoughts. This could go very badly. You know you’re already feeling much more than attraction for that stubborn man. If you keep hanging out with him, laughing and flirting, you just know that he’ll insert himself deeper and deeper inside your skin. 

If you keep trying and he keeps pushing you away… how long until he pushes so far that your heart breaks?

But what if he lets you in?

What if it works?

Tags: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @elysian-asphodel @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22 @kyllium @keiva1000 @chibinasuu @my-name-is-heartache @laidenbreecatchall @moldychefboyardeecan @dazzlingstarlight23 @bearg-bia @babyboofangirl @praline357 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @traffys-heart @cherileecore @violetmatcha

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[mostlymarvelgirl]

Dean Winchester's Type

Let's talk about it. Cause why not?

Dean Dean Dean. He's probably that one guy in every group who's always the funniest, and probably the most chill. Well, atleast on the outside.

He has always been the same. Personality wise. But yeah, he's more of someone whose personality has hardened over the years. Hell, for all he knows, he knows deep down inside he's still figuring who he truly is.

(And NO, I'm not referring to him being in the closet)

So when you meet him for the first time, he's probably gonna lie about who he is. (Cause he's a hunter and probably investigating a case duh) Definitely is type of guy who notices a lot shit but you won't be able to tell at all considering his way of talking. He talks very casual. Makes you feel free. Makes you feel like it's just a simple conversation. But he's just determining whether you're a threat or not.

He's good at what he does. Because he was taught that way? Yeah, let's bring in that.

He spent most his childhood being an adult who's responsible for keeping his brother safe while irresponsible father (trash) was busy hunting the thing that killed their mom. He spent most his time taking care and spending time watching his dad. Which would explain his taste in music, sport, interests and hobbies. He didn't get time or make friends of his own age. It makes sense as he didn't get any time for himself to let his own thoughts decide his opinions on his likes and dislikes. Narcissistic parent effect? Yeah, definitely.

Don't be fooled by his casual demeanor and openness.

He's openly affectionate because he never got it. But you decide to hurt it, yeah... you're dead. So strap in and get ready to feel all those feelings you've never felt because he loves and falls too fast, he knows it's his weakness. But he can't help it, so he may not express it vocally, but you can see it visibly though his actions. He forgives, but doesn't forget. He's very willing to bring his trust back in you if you betray him unknowingly or accidentally or by some mistake. But just because he does it multiple times as you betray him (yes I'm talking about Cas and his dumbass) doesn't mean he'll be fine. He's gonna be okay. But if you cross a particular line, yeah... you're truly fucked. Pack your bags and leave the multiverse.

Now, let's get all juicy into the details and bring in his horoscope.

His sun is an aquarius. Obviously you can tell he truly deep down loves a rebellion. Not out of being defiant. But for the right principles. His own principles. (Like how many time has this man sold his soul) As you see later in the seasons, when he explores his own interests, you'll see that deep down, he hates control. He wants to be free. He hates rules. And, he's always ahead. Even when you don't see it. He's well prepared. Always five steps ahead.

Now coming to his Leo Moon. This man loves and absolutely craves for recognition and praise. Growing up, no one ever appreciated this sweetheart. Deep down, all he wanted was someone to see him. To be appreciated. And if he does, he glows. Like you can see that smile and a cute silly acts randomly. That sweet outburst which make no sense. (To you, not him) His inner child feels satisfied. It shines and glows. He'll never admit he wants this. But trust me, he does. He's a total sucker. And if he's not appreciated? Uff, let's not go to a depressed Dean. He's gets all broody and starts drinking dumps his feelings down. Probably even punch a wall or look at baby Sammy pictures or pictures of his mom.

His Ascendant? Saggitarius. That Dean Swagger. Blue Steel (Dean's Version)? Yep, this is it. The reason he likes the road no matter how cramped it is, it makes him feel free. Unchained. Not tied to a place. If you'd seen his life with Lisa, deep down, Dean wishes to travel. Explore. Sure, he wants family and stuff, but he's more of an adventurer and prefers someone who doesn't take that away from him. Now, his carefree and sarcasm layer... yeah you might get distracted by that and miss out how much emotional depth he's got deep down. He loves honesty. He forgives easy. He's blunt. He doesn't how much it hurts. He wants the real picture. He will understand you and he forgives. He's deep down a total softie. Don't lie to him. Please, he's very considerate. He loves. Hard and fast. So be nice. And honest.

Overall, he's very free spirited guy. He prefers someone who lets him explore the world. He doesn't like being tied down. As much as he craves affection, don't be overly clingy. He would absolutely will get annoyed. The last thing you wanna do is push him away. Sorry, but that's just the truth. So if you're someone who sees past his walls, someone who doesn't prefer overly clingy connection, honest, prefers deep connection (there's a difference between deep and clingy) and prefers free spiritedness... you're it. Go grab your Dean.

Now that we're done this... let's get to the spicy shit all you horny shits have been waiting for. Sex. How does he like it? When would it happen? Who would initiate it first? Who's freakier? At what stage of the relationship would it happen?

Now see, here's a difference. If it's a one night stand to blow off steam, he's gonna be freaky as fuck and be rough. Maybe soft. He'll be in full control. You can't do shit. He'll be respectful and hear you out obviously. But remember, he'll be incharge. This is the closest to what he gets a form if affectionate touch. He thinks this is only thing he doesn't mess up and is good at. Yes, he's insecure and seeks attention.

But when he gets into a serious relationship, it will be a few months or maybe days. Depends. Based on your preference, he'll ask you how or when you want it. Since, he's a good at reassuring, you might fold easy. He's good with comfort words. He knows and notices what you are insecure about. He will make sure one hundred percent that you fully open up to him before he makes love to you.

Now as for freakiness, he's a guy who's willing to try and give it a shot. He's open to suggestions. He's very open about what he likes and what he doesn't. He asks you. Keeps a note. He'd probably initiate the conversation after the first time you both do it. He loves to talk after sex. Makes him feel reassured. He wants feel that you both are at the same level of pace in thinking. And understanding. He would never do anything at all. To make you uncomfortable. Never. If it's a common kink and you don't want it, he just won't push it at all.

Sex for him is way to connect. It's for his reassurance. He will put your needs first. He will comfort you and give assurance. You will always feel like a queen and fulfilled.

So, in the end, he's a guy who wants love, freedom and explore. He gives and gives love and wants just appreciation and someone to understand him. Just the inner child wanting his freedom. Be a sweetheart and be kind and honest. And that'll be the best decision you'll make. So go grab your Dean today.

And that, is Dean Winchester's type.

Requested by the most wonderful Desi mutual @mahi-wayy

[ghostgirl-22]

Artrick seeing two lesbians making out that look like girl versions of them like almost identical, pats like "dude check it out, they look like us, its literally us" 😭

Dorks lmaooo i love this <3

i threw this in too cause you know pats just gotta feminize him a little.

CW: MDNI, NSFW, unedited though I’ll try to come in later and clean it up

—-

It’s an unseasonably warm Saturday night… one of those nights where it’s still 80 degrees at midnight. They’re in San Francisco and the streets are flooded with people. He’s starting to feel the effects of the weed gummies they took before they left Patrick’s hotel room while they stand line for some nightclub. It’s been disappointing watching all the groups with girls go in at a much faster pace but it’s still early.

“Is it like this every Saturday?” Art asks, gazing around the crowded streets. Everything feels just a little bit heightened now.

”Well it definitely was when me and Tashi were here,” Patrick smirks. He’s gazing at a group of guys shirtless in cowboy hats with sashes on, one of them with a white hat his sash says “Bride to be” all of them walking across the street towards a gay club called Town.

Art’s a little bit overwhelmed if he’s honest. He’s not ventured too far from Palo Alto. He tells Patrick it’s because he’s too busy with work and tennis and school but the truth is he’s kinda having a hard time making friends. He’s so used to Patrick being his built in companion. He never had to venture out alone. A new movie comes out and he doesn’t even have to ask… he just buys the tickets and even if Patrick isn’t interested he tags along. If one of Art’s favorite bands is touring his plans are usually… me and Patrick and whoever else wants to come. But Patrick is always a given.

At Stanford he doesn’t have that. Most of his teammates have other friends or developed friendships in their freshman year. He’s playing with mostly juniors and seniors. Tashi is a superstar who everyone knew or wanted to know from day one so she’s always busy.

No one is mean to him but he does often feel like he’s struggling to find a rhythm. He’s alone a lot of the time and every interaction just feels superficial or like he’s trying too hard to be liked… which is a bit exhausting. None if it comes naturally… and he knows he doesn’t make it easy for people to get to know him either. So used to Patrick who could often tell him how he felt before he realized it himself. Patrick does that He’s starting to realize a lot of the friends he has outside of Patrick he met because of Patrick. Like having him there makes it so much easier for Art to open up… to be… known.

Art can’t admit that to him. He already feels pathetic enough sitting on his hands waiting for Patrick and Tashi to be available.

“Dude,” Patrick says, bringing him out of his thoughts.

“Huh?”

Patrick gestures and Art follows his gaze… not sure what he’s looking at.

“You see that? Or am I just really high?” Patrick asks.

“See what?”

“Over there… our dopplegangers.”

Art blinks and squints. He doesn’t see anything and he starts to wonder if maybe Patrick is just really high and then… two people. One with curly blonde hair and the other with curly black, they’re even dressed similar to what the two of them would wear… both in jeans… one in a dark top with white sneakers and the other in a white t-shirt.

Art giggles a little bit. It has to be the weed because he’s not normally a giggler. He covers his mouth but then he has to laugh again. “We’re really fucking high.” Art says as the dopplegangers disappear inside the bar across the street.

“Dude we should follow them,” Patrick says. “Not in a creepy way…” he adds when Art raises his eyebrows. “I just wanna make sure we’re not hallucinating. Come on, why don’t we go over there? There’s no line.”

“Don’t you think there’s no line for a reason?” Art asks.

”Not everything that is worth doing just cause everyone else is doing it.”

“Huh?”

“What I mean is what if everyone was falling off a cliff, would you?”

”You’re stupid when you’re high,” Art grins.

“Shut the fuck up… you know what I mean. Come on,” Patrick snakes his arm around Arts dragging him away.

Art looks back forlornly at how close to the front of the line they’d gotten. But then the bouncer lets a group of 7 girls skip ahead and he shrugs. “Okay fine.”

The woman checking IDs at the entrance of the place across the street stares at them with a mildly confused expression as they hand her their IDs. Art is a bit alarmed that she can tell they’re fake. But she just waves them in with a sort of resigned look and he breathes a sigh of relief. It’s clear Patrick didn’t share any of his concerns. He walks inside like he’s been 21 for years.

There is a crowd but it’s not overwhelming. The music is loud but it seems like they’re setting up the stage up front for a live band. Patrick approaches the bar and orders two rum and cokes, Art leans in next to him. Patrick closes what’s left of the distance between them. “Dude there they are.”

Art turns to look. They’re a few feet away. Blonde leaning into the brunettes ear. Now that they’re closer Art realizes the blonde is a girl, he can see she’s wearing some kind of lip gloss and her eyes look like they're lined with a mascara or whatever girls use to make them pop. She’s smiling at the brunette grabbing onto… her?

The brunette is a girl too. Black curls falling into her eyes. She doesn’t have wild freckles the way Patrick does. At least not that Art can tell in the dim light of the bar.

”Maybe they don’t look as much like us as you thought?” Art says, smirking as Patrick hands him his drink.

“Yeah well…” he trails off as the not-so-doppelgängers start kissing each other. It’s an odd thing to watch because when you can’t see their faces they do kind of look like—

Art feels his stomach flip flop from the memory. Unable to look away, watching the way the brunette is cradling the blondes face, tongues slipping into each other’s mouths. She kisses like— like Patrick.

Art wishes he could stop thinking about that night in the hotel room in Flushing. He’s probably the only one still obsessing over it. Probably because they ended up together and he’s all alone with the memory. A little sick to admit the way he’s thought about Patrick just as much as Tashi ever since then.

He’s dragged from his thoughts by a sudden sharp nudge. it’s Patrick and Art realizes he’s been staring non stop and now their girl dopplegangers are sliding down the bar towards them.

“You guys are almost as cute a couple as we are,” blondie grins, clearly noticing the resemblance.

“I love when the gays come out to a lesbian bar.” The brunette adds and that’s the moment when Art’s slowed down weed addled brain realizes that nearly everyone in the place is female. He turns helplessly to Patrick cheeks slowly heating up with embarrassment and it’s clear Patrick’s just realizing it too but instead of looking properly ashamed…he starts grinning.

“Uh we’re n-not—“ Art begins to stammer his apologies.

”We’ve gotta support each other,” Patrick interrupts throwing his arm over Art’s shoulder. “Besides I usually call him my girlfriend…because he’s just so pretty.”

It’s stupid and Art rolls his eyes but the brunette laughs. “He is kinda pretty.” And the blonde grins, nodding in agreement.

“We’re waiting for our friends. You guys wanna join us?” Blondie asks.

And just like that it goes from odd and humiliating to sitting across from their doppelgangers (blonde Alicia and brunette Nikki actually) and trading shots while singing along to a live cover band. Patrick is just so fucking charming. Art wishes he had even a modicum of that charisma. A couple more girls join them. Surprisingly two of them go to Stanford. They even exchange numbers with Art promising to come watch him play tennis. He promises to go to one of their on campus theater productions.

Five minutes out with Patrick and he’s made friends easily. And that would be fine. That would be enough. But the whole night Patrick’s flirting with him like they’re together. Probably just trying to keep up the facade. It starts out as little things, cupping Art’s cheek, rubbing his hand on the small of his back. Calling him pretty, beautiful. Making the girls call him pretty too.

“God, Patrick,” Art mutters to him, barely able to stand it. It’s got his brain all fucked up (his body too, he’s been nursing a semi for the past hour, shifting to try and hide it from him). Not quite sure how he’s gonna recalibrate back to normal again after tonight.

Then at the end of the night when they’re just about to leave Patrick pulls him closer, an arm wrapped around Art’s shoulder, starts sofly talking in his ear in that gentle tenor “i love when you just go with it… like a good girl. Don’t think too much.”

Art shifts again as his cock fills out fully. Who knew how much he wanted to be Patrick’s good girl.

Patrick starts mouthing at his neck. So drunk. Still a little high. Low rumble of his laugh vibrating along Art’s throat. Laughing like he knows what he’s saying is stupid but he also knows it’s making Art crumble anyway.

Art shivers for the feeling and turns towards him. Faces so close they’re breathing each other in… lips just inches apart…and suddenly they're lips touch. Patrick’s arm still over his shoulder, lips so soft, tongue slipping shamelessly into Art’s mouth. Art hums and feels Patrick smile against his lips breaking the kiss.

Art turns away, heart pounding in his ears before Patrick directs his head back and kisses him again. It feels different than the hotel room. More deliberate. More… everything… everything that left Art tangled up in knots for months. He doesn’t know how long they kiss. Could be 5 minutes… could be an hour. He just knows he’s vibrating out of his skin by the time Patrick eases back. Fingers brushing along Art’s cheek. A little half smile spreading on his lips.

“Damn I’m supportive but save it for the bedroom boys,” one of the girls teases. And it’s only then that Art remembers where he is. Dazed he tries to laugh it off. The whole night feels surreal.

They say goodnight to the girls and they hop in a cab to ride back to Patrick’s hotel. “Nice job, I think you really convinced them,” Art says lightly, still trying to figure out how to come back from that.

“What about you? Are you convinced?”

Art feels his skin burning up. “Of what…”

Patrick laughs. “You think the girls are gonna go home and hook up?” He smirks.

“Dude. Oh my god.”

“What? I mean imagine it… our doppelgängers kissing… then you and I kiss. Our doppelgängers fucking… then you and I…”

“Oh…” Art feels his heart start to beat a little faster.

“That’s right…” Patrick smirks leaning in for another kiss, one hand settling onto Arts lap where it’s obvious he’s not calmed down. “Just go with it.”

[dexxxwrites]

「In the night」~

Sorry if it’s bad, it’s my first time really writing ･○･

You.

Sitting in your room, sitting against a wall. Because well what else are you supposed to do while you’re crying your eyes out?

No one else was awake (Atleast that you knew of.), so you go ahead and cry without many worries.

But little did you know that someone was listening. But not completely sure on what to do, or if he should even help you.

. . .

Minutes feel like hours as you continue to cry in what you thought was a private time. Until a knock comes.

Just once, and only once.

. . .

Bakugo. He was Katsuki fucking Bakugo, what was he doing outside his classmates dorm room at, what? 2:00am?

Well he didn’t exactly know either. All he knew is that he heard crying, and ignored it at first.

Until he heard whose room it was coming from.

. . .

You get up slowly and hesitantly, unsure of who it would be outside your door at this time. Wiping away any tears you had and taking a breath.

Thoughts running through your head, “Was I too loud?”, “Who could it be?”, “Do I look okay?”, “God I hope they can’t tell I was crying..”.

And with those thoughts circulating you walk to the door, and open it just enough to where you can see who it was.

. . .

At first, you thought your mind was playing tricks on you as you stare up at Bakugo with a bewildered expression. Him back at you with a scowl. Neither breaking eye contact.

One moment passes

Then another.

Before Bakugo breaks the silence by speaking in a low tone.

. . .

“Y/n. Let me come in.”

You look up at him for another moment then nod slowly and step out of the way. Still not fully understanding what he wanted, but not in the mood to argue.

Little did you know, that he was staring at you, not of anger or anything else. But he was seeing the puffy eyes you had, slight tear still on your cheek. The small pout of your lip.

. . .

After a moment of awkwardness and getting situated in your dorm. (You on the bed, Katsuki on your chair that was not in the best condition.)

You glance back up at him and then sigh quietly.

“So.. Bakugo what did you need to come in for..?”

A moment passes by with neither of you saying nothing. Bakugo wondering what he could say to not seem like a total weirdo for coming in this late.

“..heard something come from your room. Didn’t let me sleep. So I came to see what it was.. got that..?”

“Ah.. alright. Well sorry if I was being too loud. If that’s all you wanted to say then I’ll walk you out.”

Exasperated, you stand back up with a slight hint of annoyance in your tone. I mean who comes in at 2 fucking am to tell someone they were being too loud?

And if he heard shouldn’t he have minded his own damn business!

Then.. well the unexpected happens.

. . .

Katsuki stares at you for a moment then stands up and steps closer. Of course he sucked at comforting but he definitely wasn’t going to let this pass by without a word.

Not when you were crying.

“Why were you crying? And didn’t even try to say you weren’t.”

Leaning down to look at you better, then hesitating slightly as he put his hand on your chin and tilt it up.

Not wanting you to look away and even try to lie.

. . .

To say you were surprised would be an understatement.

Since when did Bakugo care about you? And why was he so insistent on knowing? (Although you’d never admit it, it was nice to know he cared this much.)

“Why do you want to know Bakugo? To use it against me?”

“No! ..No. I’m not going to use something like that against you. Just tell me idiot.”

Damn it, when he says it like that it’s hard to say no.

..well not really. But when it comes to Bakugo why would you say no? Especially since he never cares this much for anyone.

. . .

“Fine.. I just.. was feeling overwhelmed okay? Now can you at least let go of me?”

You shuffle a bit under his gaze, and touch. Glancing away for a moment then glaring weakly at him.

Tears beginning to well up once again (without your permission, how rude.)

Then once again, Katsuki surprises you.

How?

By pulling you into a hug.

. . .

What?

It takes you a moment to comprehend what is happening. But you don’t get much time to think about it before he speaks again.

“Come to me next time idiot.. I don’t care if you’re scared of me or some bullshit like that. I don’t want you to be upset like that alone.”

A beat of silence is there before the tears flow freely. (How you held back this long, I don’t really know.)

Lowering your head to his chest and slowly gripping the back of his shirt is almost an instinct you didn’t know you had.

This never happened, not between you and Bakugo. But you weren’t going to let it end now.

Not when you needed it this badly.

And unbeknownst to you, he did too.

. . .

Thank you for reading my first real post, I hope to get better over time! Please send me any advice if you feel like I need it ^^

[n0t-evenhere]

Back at it again at the Krispy Kreme, part three of the Star at night. Shout out to Shoya again for being my editor!

Before you read, this is a warning before the warning labels. This is legitimately considered dead dove according to the guidelines of DD. If there are ANY, and I mean ANY labels that you see that you know you CAN NOT handle. DO NOT READ! Take care of yourself. Seriously, heavy material is in this chapter. If you are still here, enjoy this chapter.

⚠️ warning ⚠️ dead dove 🕊️ , death, heavy themes of mental and physical abuse, use of unorthodox methods of punishment, attempted sexual assault (not Ray), manipulation, emotional unease, trauma, underage possession of alcoholic beverages, and alcohol in general.

If you personally need to take a break will reading, do so. The story will still be here. I promise, come back when ready if you need to. Enjoy the read.

“The Star At Night”

Part 3 “Loss”

The mask was held out for him to take. Its colors burned into his brain. FUCKING STEEL SHERIFF?! This had to be some kind of joke. Ray felt himself claw out past the Binary Star façade. Ray was supposed to be buried deep, wrapped up and lost in the light of Binary Star. This made Ray claw to the surface. Thoughts and feelings rushed to the surface like a dam that had broken and left damage as it went.

___________________________________________

14 years ago

Ray enjoyed the sun while he had it. Based on its position it was probably around three in the afternoon. The hottest part of the day but, hey, at least there was a cool breeze for a day in May like this. The brown sack of groceries held in his arm. He had to admit, having super strength was nice. Groceries felt like nothing. After exiting the store he even helped some old lady carry bags of groceries like it was nothing. Felt good. Ray looked down in the bag. The lady had much healthier stuff than he did. I mean, if Ray would choose he wouldn’t be one to drink beer in whiskey. Just an errand for his…dad. He practically gagged at the thought of that man being his father. He shouldn’t even have the title.

Ray was glad he walked instead of drove, that means he gets to be out of the house for longer. After all, he doesn’t hardly leave, he schools at home because the NAHA doesn’t want him out among other teens his age. Not sure if he’d get into trouble. Besides, the NAHA knew from a report given to them by the steel sheriff that Ray was still dealing with the repercussions of the southern war. He shivered at the thought. Thank goodness he was only a part time hero right now. He’d be stressed to the max. He liked it well enough. Being a hero. Then again, he was always nervous to do the wrong thing though. To mess up. What if he wasn’t the Hero the people wanted? What if he was a mess up? What if he wasn’t what the people needed.

Finally, Ray had made it to the little house that was a bit out of town. Away from prying eyes. He slow played it, walked at a slower pace, hey, the mail is probably here too. Might as well check that. The mail consisted of fan mail, bills, and other things that Ray didn’t really care about. With a sigh he moseyed on up the path to the door. That when a scream pierced through the air, muffled but for Ray, he heard it clear as day.

His blood ran cold, chest tightened painfully in his chest. Felt a little sweaty as his body grew hot. He knew what this meant, someone was inside fighting for themselves. Trying to get away from the hellish nightmare that was Steel Sheriff’s home. Ray felt stuck to that spot, he’s a hero. He’s done this before? Why did it feel so difficult? He knew the answer. Because when he played hero at home? There were consequences. He shook his head, that didn’t matter. Consequences or not…someone needed his help. The grocery bag dropped to the ground, glass breaking, the bag slowly soaking making the paper soggy. As Ray made bounding leaps to the door.

He burst through the door with fever, hurry. His eyes widened at the sight before him. He would think he’d be prepared for it but it’s still shocking every time. “I SAID ONLY ONE TIME! ONE!” The woman beneath Rick cried out as tears streamed down her face. She cringed as Rick kissed and prodded at her body. Her glossy eyes looked at Ray. Her face was bruised, left eye swollen shut. “H-help me. Please.” The woman whines making his heart drop to the floor. “SHE SAID GET OFF!” Ray screamed, rushing Rick, grabbing him by the shoulder tearing him off the woman. Rick flew through the air landing on the glass coffee table with a crash.

Ray knelt beside the woman. “Can you stand?” He inquired, taking the woman’s hand gently. The woman shook her head no. She was panicking, having a hard time trying to get her up. “YOU FUCKIN’ LITTLE BITCH!” Ticked yelled starting to get up. Making Ray panic a little. “It’s okay Ma’am. I’ll help you up but we have to be fast.” With that Ray stood up taking her hand with him pulling her up, before he pulled her along to the front door, making her stumble a little. The front door was still wide open. He pushed her gently out the door. “GO! GET SOMEWHERE SAFE!” Ray cried out, everything running on high alert. The woman stumbled down the walk way sobbing but still out of harm's way. A breath of relief was short-lived.

Rays felt his leg leave the ground as he felt himself being yanked back by his shirt collar. “Boy what did I fuckin’ say would happen when you get in my way?” Rick’s tone was dangerously low before he stopped eating Ray, throwing him against the ugly cream sofa. Before Ray could even get up Rick sat on him, straddling him, keeping Ray pinned to the floor. “What did I tell you? Say it.” Ray swallowed thickly. He hated this, hated him. He should just kill him. Wait…no. No, Ray shook the thought away. No, hero’s don't think like that right? They shouldn’t. A good hero doesn’t think like that. Ray couldn’t fight back, he had nowhere else to go, Rick had ingrained into Ray's mind that no one would take him either.

A tight grip on Ray’s hair snapped him from his thoughts, making him grimace. . “I’m talking to you. I expect a FUCKIN’ ANSWER!” Ray swallowed the lump in his throat as Rick released his hair and pulled a lighter and cigarette from his button up breast pocket. “You…you said that…if I…” this was humiliating. He didn’t want to do this. Even if he tried to keep his voice even, it didn’t work. “If I intervene I’ll take what’s left.” Rick nodded “Atta boy.” Rick took a inhale of smoke before pushing it back out in Ray’s face, making his nose wrinkle. “You ruin everything.” Rick said slowly. “Say it.”

Ray looked up at him, his eyes widening a little. Really? Why? Why was he like this? Rick suddenly pushed the hot cigarette to the skin on Ray’s upper arm. “SAY IT!” Ray cried out, “I RUIN EVERYTHING!” Rick smiles, “SAY IT AGAIN.” Ray shook his head, “Please I-“ his sentence replaced by a yelp. “I RUIN EVERYTHING!” Ray repeated. “SAY IT FOR ME AGAIN BOY! MAKE ME BELIEVE IT!” Ray yelled out in anger, his teeth gnashing, “I. RUIN. EVERYTHING!” Rick nodded, taking another drag. “That’s right. You do ruin everything. Now. Where is my whiskey?” Ray felt his heart sink. A numb feeling coursing through his body. “I…I dropped it.” He mumbled. “What was that boy?” Rick inquired credulously. “I dropped it.” Rick let out a humorless laugh. “Well, today isn’t your lucky day, is it Sun Ray.” Rick reared his fist back.

______________________________________

Present moment

The memory stopped, the horrid movie in his mind halted. This is it. Sure he lied, he wasn’t going to let these people go. However, he doesn’t remember one thing. Hershel’s special request. Crime rate was going up again. There was an example needed. To be made. He knew he could use Red Diamond to cut them down like he wanted to. After all, there will need to be a cover story so…needs to make sure to leave as little recognition of him as possible. Maybe killing them slowly won’t be too bad. A good release. Binary Star is put up for the next little bit of time. Leaving Ray, and ONLY Ray. He killed the man in his grip gruesomely before the group's very eyes. Just so they can see what’s coming to them. Ray smiled, “I’ll give you a head start. Fair enough? 10…9…get running, 8…” The countdown of the beginning of his hunt.

The countdown felt like a threat, no, worse than that. A promise of impending suffering. Carol and Sam ran at your side down the hall, the countdown of Binary Star feeling as if it was racing with you. “We have to get out of here somehow!” Sam cried out, breath ragged. “The front door is a no go.” Carol commented. That’s when the image of the map flashes into your mind. That’s right, that's it! “I got it! There is an employee exit in the locker room that leads outside! That’s our way out!” You say to the women running beside you. “Perfect, we’ll head-“ Carol stopped talking, only leaving labored breath and the ending of the countdown. “Zero. Countdown is up.” Binary Star called in a teasing tone down the hall.

“We need to hide, we have to separate. We’ll meet in the locker room.” That sounded like a terrible idea. Carol continued on, “One of us has to make it to the locker room.” The way Carol said it left a pit in your stomach. What? One? But what about everyone else? We can- no, I can’t leave anyone behind. You think to yourself. You love these people, they have been here for you for the longest time. You couldn't leave them. They were your family. “Hide!” Carol called.

You push forward, turning down the hall into the Greek exhibit. The room's lights were dim, white marble statues stood tall, historic gods and goddesses stood tall, some of the walls were lined with shields and weapons of all kinds, and stands with vases intercity designed. Footsteps scared you out of your short admiration, practically making you dive for cover behind the large “Venus De Milo” statue. That’s when he started talking. “You know. When I was younger, in my teen years. I used to imagine that people would make statues of me. Would treat me like a god.”

You peek your head around The corner of the statue, there he stood looking up at a statue you went familiar with. He wiped some dust off of it. “And they do. They just don’t tell you how…difficult it really is to be treated as such. The more you are seen. The less you are heard. Well, the fact is that, no one truly sees me. Not really anyways.” Binary Star chuckled a little. “Enough about me. I’d rather talk about you. You and your little “family” as you put it. I have to admit, you have an interesting family trade you have going on.” What? Family, how did he even know that? You never said anything about it? “I can read minds. Just how out of the loop are you?” He jests. That made this so much worse.

Binary Star took a deep breath. “Do you want to know something else? I have great hearing too. I can hear the sound of your heart. The fear. It is funny, two hearts almost beating at the same pace.” What did that even mean?! His words only made your heart beat faster, sweat forming on your brow. He knew you were there, so why did you keep hidden? Your thoughts suddenly were interrupted by the sound of a case breaking. That…wasn’t you. “Ah, someone made the first move. I was waiting for that.” He cooed.

Looking around the statue there stood Sam. Frozen in place, the vase broke to bits on the floor. She looked at you. Her eyes were not even trained on the figure stepping towards her. In a flash he ate up the distance snatching her up by her throat. “What to do with you hm?” He inquired to himself. “What do you think, (you)?” He was calling you out. He must have read her mind or something to get your name. “Ah, creative-“ he looks back at you. Who was now standing away from the statue, Afraid.

He looks back at sam. “Your friend here has quite the wild imagination. She’s thinking of all the possible things I could do to her. Only thing she didn’t account for is that I would use her imagination to think of something. Worse.” In that time of talking you panicked, you could just let Sam die like this. Not if you were there. Your eyes scanned the wall, there wasn’t much but you saw it. The metal throwing disk on the wall. With a tug it came off, you swung it around to throw it at him, hoping he’d drop Sam giving her time to escape. He caught it just before it reached his head. His head slowly turned to face you, a huge unsettling smile on it. “I like the way you think. (You).”

Those words made your heart drop to the floor. “NO!” You screamed as he took the disk and slammed it right into her face once. Just one hit and teeth fell to the floor, drop falling in droplets. She moaned in pain, eyes wide in shock. “SAM! STOP! PUT HER DOWN YOU BASTARD!” You scream, grabbing another weapon, a spear. It’s what you got. You’d use it. Just as you turned around to face him. It was as if he was waiting just for you to look. Sam was gagging, the disk set in her jaw. “Don’t be angry with me, you picked how she dies. Gave me the weapon with your own hands sweetheart.” With a sharp jerk of his gloved hand, Sam’s has fell to the floor with a sickening splatter. Making you drop your spear.

Another scream of horror escaped your lips. Binary star set her down gently, Adam took two wobbling steps toward you, reaching out. Her tongue hung from the absence of her lower jaw. Blood soaking her dark clothing and skin. Sam gurgled and choked before dropping to the floor with a thud. You could stop the tears that began to fall, that quickly turned into sobbing, the sobbing turned into throwing up. “Awww, don’t feel too bad. Her death was decently quick. Besides, kudos to you, you gave me some good entertainment so far.” You couldn’t stay. You couldn’t, you’d be next.

As fast as your legs could carry you, you ran down the hall with fever. Sobs are still wracking your body. The locker room was just up ahead. Not too far. Just as you passed the dinosaur exhibit, Carol came barreling out at the same time. Slamming into you. Her eyes widened. “(you)? Hey, it’s alright. Come here.” Carol grabbed you, pulling you back into the Dino exhibit, cradling you close. “No it’s not alright,” you cried. “I tired to save Sam and he fucking killed her with the disk I threw at him.” Carol attempted to sooth you. “Shhh, you did what you could. We can’t stay here though. We have to leave. Come on. Get yourself together.” With a nod. You follow her out your hand in hers.

Just as you two left the dinosaur exhibit, Binary Star was waiting right there for you with a smile. “Ah, funny running into you here.” Carol and you paused, before she shoved you right into his arms before making a mad dash down the hall. Leaving you in his arms in shock. She just…she just left you. She actually left you! “Mmm, maybe you aren’t really family.” You try to move from his grip, only for his grip to tighten on you. His head turning from Carol's disappearing figure to you. “How does that make you feel? (You)?”

It honestly made you feel disgusted. She was like your mother when you separated from yours. You trusted her. “Say it.” He said giving you a tight squeeze making you yelp. “DISGUSTED! IT MAKES ME FEEL ANGRY!” You cry out. “That’s what I thought. Let’s go pay her a little visit shall we? Maybe even have a little, heart warming chat.” His tone was anything but warm as he dragged you down the hall with him after Carol. Your fighting means nothing against him.

[cindyss]

my beautiful liar

chapter 4; after you inform Riddle about your choice, he helps you clean up the mess you had created, then you go back to his dorm to discuss the fake dating matter and eventually come to an agreement.

2.9k words

“I decided to agree to the fake dating thing, now I need you to help me clean up a mess,” you said.

Your sudden decision took him aback, but he didn’t let you comment. “And what if I said no?” he stepped closer. 

“Then I’ll kill you,” you snarled at him without hesitation. 

He raised his eyebrows at you and chuckled, “What gives you so much confidence you can even get close to me?” another step. 

“You don’t know anything about me, Riddle,” you barked at him. “Now, either accept my so generous offer or get squashed into fucking mashed potatoes.” Could you do what you said? Maybe not, but he didn’t need to know that.

“You know, i never really understood the hype about mashed potatoes, the texture is awful and the taste, ugh god,” he fake gagged, “I can’t fucking bear it.”

What the fuck was he talking about? “Riddle!” you hissed at him. “There is no time.” This time, you stepped closer. “I need you to agree to this and explain the prophecy more to me.” 

He came a bit closer so that your chests touched, “You think I fucking like this? No, I don’t! So stop fucking acting like I have a choice, because I dont. You wholeheartedly believe I enjoy being called the dark lord’s unwanted child, and loathed by the whole school? I dont, it sucks. But you have no clue, do you? Because you’re this perfect orphan who someone cares about everyone around her and only wants what’s best for them while still fucking taking things slolwy at her own pace. Just because your mommy and daddy are dead, you get treated like this fucking princess and-”

You slap him, then you push him away so that he is at least 5 feet away from you.

“I have no time for this, it’s a simple yes or no goddammit!” you spoke, or you may have shouted.

“Fucking fine, god you’re intoleralbe,” he sneered at you. “But what made you come to this decision anyway?” he raised his eyebrows at you, no longer being able to mask the anger and confusion.

You raised your pants a bit to reveal to him your wound, and his jaw fell open. Though, he quickly retrieved and spoke, “What the fuck! What happened?”

“Aragog happened. You were right, I was on the astronomy tower, and the creature crawled up to me. So I killed it.” You hated admitting he was correct, but you had no choice.

“Of course I was right,” he scoffed. “And you fucking deserved that.” he chuckled. You glared at him, thinking about charging, but you changed your mind as he kept speaking. “Anyway, I don’t believe you killed it. What if this is a trap?” 

“I killed it, I told you you underestimate me, maybe I should just kill you myself so we could give this prophecy a rest, huh?”

He scowled at you, then he said, “Fine then, let’s go see it.” 

“Aren’t you going to ask me if I need help with my wound you asshole?” he seriously was a massive dickhead.

“Look, I really don’t give a fuck, you know how much willpower it’s taking me right now to not absolutely fucking kill you? You’re so goddamn annoying and i hope you realize that someday.” 

Ouch, that fucking hurt. But of course, you would never admit that to him. Were you really that triggering? No one had ever said that to you, your friends never gave signs of finding you annoying, and Dean always seemed to enjoy listening to you.

Your teachers adored you, your classmates supported you, but why were Slytherins so mean?

You felt tears coming in, but you fought to keep them away. Instead, you rolled your eyes at him as you stepped out of the room, him following you.

As you passed next to all the fellow Slytherins singing and swinging around, you got glares from everyone as you walked with Riddle behind you.

You paid them no attention as you made your way to the door and left.

Why was everyone so obsessed with him anyway? Was it because he was the dark lord’s son, or was it because he was so handsome?

That you didn’t know, but what you knew for sure is that by the next day, word would spread that you were seen with Riddle, not only in Slytherin’s common room, but his room too.

Were you, the golden child, princess of your friend group, and leader of your class, not so pure after all?

“So where are we going again?” he questioned, still seeming not to believe your story.

“The astronomy tower, and I’d rather you don’t speak to me,” you said angrily, because what he said earlier had stung.

And you walked a little faster.

“If you’re going to be so arrogant why don’t you clean up that shit alone huh? You claim to kill it, for sure, you can clean it.” 

“No, I can’t!” you raged.

“Why?” he was trying to get on your nerves.

You spun to face him as he was now behind you, and you both stopped in your tracks. “Because I’m allergic to its blood!” you were fuming now, he was insufferable.

“Is that why your face is so red?” he wanted to laugh, but instead he just masked it with a smirk.

You didn’t answer him after that. You just turned around and kept walking.

As you finally made your way to the astronomy tower, stopping when you got to the scene, Riddle had to take a step back at the sight.

The spider was dead, right in front of you. It’s blood smeared on the walls, the floor, the railings. Aragog was swimming in its pool of blood right there, and you had to clean it.

“Holy shit, you couldn’t have done all of this,” he said surprised. 

“Well, I did, and absolutely no one helped, so are we going to get to work or what?”

You turned to look at him, but he charged at you, with his hands wrapped around your throat, he held you up against the wall, his leg shoved between yours. 

“Do not fucking lie to me bitch, I knew this was a trap, who’s helping you? What’s the plan here, because I’ve caught you. And, in case you’re wondering, I will not hesitate to murder you right here next to this monster.” his breath was hot and near your face.

As his fingers squeezed harder on your neck, making you feel dizzy, your brain foggy, and signaled for you to speak. Then, when you realized what was happening, you kicked him in his lower abdomen. And before he could recover, you punched him in the face. 

He threw his head back, groaning in pain as blood trickled down his nose.

“You judge too quickly, and you’ve clearly misjudged me. I showed you what I’ve done, and you still have the nerve to attack me?” you scoffed at him.

Why was it so hard to believe you could do something like this? People were so quick to judge and underestimate.

“How? You were so quiet last year, and all the years before. How did you transform what the fuck.” you could see the visibile confusion and irritation on his face as he glared at you.

“You are so goddamn stupid, I didn’t transform! I simply hid it from you, from your friends, my friends.” Was he serious? Transform? Who even says that?

“But why? Why do you put on this weird persona of being the quiet angel who only cares about her grades and friends? I mean, do you even know how many people would fear you if they knew you could throw a punch like that?” his gaze lingered on you, waiting for an answer, which you did not fail to deliver.

“That’s the difference between you and me. You want to be scary, and I want to be respected. And I can do more than just throw a punch.” You were not going to skip over his insult just like that, you had to prove your point.

“But why did you suddenly decide to start speaking, huh?” Oh, god. You were going to murder him.

“Fuck you, I told you to stop saying that!” Why does no one ever realize how offensive it is to say that? Or are they aware and just choose to do it to spite everyone?

“What the fuck do you want me to say?” he now grew more irritated, which you didn’t know was possible. He was still holding his hand to his bloody nose.

Deciding to be the bigger, more mature person, you spoke calmly in hopes of getting both of you to pipe down, “It is none of your business, okay, Riddle? Now help me clean this up, alright?”

For a second, you see him hesitate to bug you even further, but as you are both tired of the night, he decides to let go and just help with the situation. He wipes his nose with his sleeve, looks around at the scene, then speaks, “Okay, well, I’ll take care of the spider, you find us a mop or something. And a hammer, for the railing, you know.” 

You nod at him and go inside to try to find something to clean up. You sneak to the nearest bathroom and find absolutely nothing. You also search a few other rooms for anything, yet you see nothing. You go back to find Riddle, who has already taken care of the spider, apparently. 

“How did you do that?” you ask him, confused.

“Magic, wise girl,” he mocked you as you rolled your eyes at him. Then, he said, “Where’s the mop?”

“I couldn’t find any.” 

“Well, we’ll just have to use more magic!”

With that, you end up cleaning the scene in silence, and Riddle only speaks to tell you how he somehow resurrected Aragog well and alive in the forest so that no one would notice what happened.

Being the dark lord's son really did have its advantages.

After long, exhausting hours of restless cleaning, you finally finished, and it was around 4 in the morning.

“Well, that was quick,” he mocked. He thought he was so funny. Then he continued, “Well, let’s go back to my room so we can talk about the fake dating plan.”

“Now?! Are you crazy?” Your jaw dropped in both astonishment and annoyance. 

“No, but we have a perfect scene, we were seen together, it would only make sense.” 

You thought about it for a while before concluding that it was, in fact, the most reasonable thing to do. But you were not going to let him push his ego any further, so, “If you insist, but I’m coming up with the plan!”

“Like fuck you are!” he hissed at you, his eyes now barely open.

“Well, then, thanks for the help, but this is not happening,” you sneered at him.

“You are so goddamn stubborn do you know that?” he was growing irritated once more.

“You want another punch to the penis Riddle?” you spoke triumphantly.

“You don’t scare me!” he came closer, his eyes narrowing at you. He was right, you, in fact, do not scare him. Instead, he terrifies you. You knew that no matter how much training, he would still be ahead of you. 

“We are going to my room, to talk about our plan, got it?” he spoke in a firm tone.

You huffed and just nodded, surrendering. 

You made your way back to his dorm to find students sprawled out on the couch, some with their clothes barely still on, some who don’t even belong in the Slytherin house.

You even spotted Blaise lying on the floor next to the chimney with a girl cuddled in between his arms.

As you made your way up the stairs, you found Theodore’s door open, and he was lying on his bed with two girls on each side of him, both naked, gross.

Then, when you got to the familiar room of Riddle, he made you sit down on his bed, and while he sat down on some leather couch you hadn’t noticed before, which was a few feet away from his bed. 

“First of all, we need to find a way to explain our sudden interest in each other,” he said.

“Well, any ideas?” you spoke.

“We could say you were so obsessed with me growing up and stuff like that, and I just gave in because I felt bad, you know, like the gentleman I am,” he talked with confidence like he believed it would work. You stare at him with a blank expression, and he can’t help but chuckle, apparently, because he just bursts out laughing. 

“What the fuck are you laughing at, Riddle?” 

“Have you seen your face? You look fucking ridicoulous!” he says while continuing to chuckle. You fight the urge to punch him but you hold back and instead speak, “Be serious you asshole, you sound absurd. Me? Obsessed with you? Seriously?” 

Then, he steadies himself, “So what’s the plan, Athena? You can think of something better?” 

“Yes, I can, actually. What we will say is you’ve always been fascinated with me, obviously. And some secret thing happened, like, you saved me from some monster while we were both by the lake, yes, that sounds valid. Anyway, that would be so I don’t bruise your ego, and I realized that you, in fact, were totally smitten with me. So, at first, I rejected you, that’s why you were sitting with some girl.”

Riddle then quirked his eyebrows at you, “You noticed?” he says, and you completely ignore his comment and continue speaking,

“And then I came to my senses and realized how perfect you are bla bla bla. And we’ll say that the whole ‘we hate each other thing’ was to mask our interest.” You stare at him, waiting for a response or possible reaction. 

“Well, it’s not the worst thing I’ve ever heard. We’ll go with it, I guess.”

“Good,” you nod at him. “Now, I have rules.”

“So do I,” he says.

“Go ahead.” 

“First, I want to tell my friends.” 

“Absolutely not!” 

Just when you thought you could go for longer than 10 minutes without fighting, it happens.

“I trust them, and if we’re going to do this, you need to trust me. They can be so much help to all of this, their knowing is better than their not knowing. Plus, you can tell your friends too.”

You thought about it, you couldn’t tell your friends, you didn’t want to. First of all, they weren't half as understanding as anyone else. Second, you were sort of drifting away from them recently, but you wouldn’t tell him that. And with that, you were also mad at them right now. So for now, they had to believe it was real.

“No, I don’t want to tell my friends, but fine, you can tell yours. What else?” 

“We have to make it believable, so whenever we can, we need to be seen together. In the dining hall, classes, and the hallways. And also, as disgusting as it sounds, I need you to hug me and give me kisses occasionally.” 

Your eyebrows raise in shock, “What?! Why is kissing and hugging necessary?” Why did he need to make it more complicated than it already is?

“I don’t mean to be a flex,” he said with a smirk, “but don’t you see me around girls? I think it explains itself, you said it, we need to make it believable.” 

“I’ll think about it,” you scoffed, “now, for my rules. First of all, you need to give me privacy, I need my alone time, and space to think and study. Also, I need you to respect me and defend me at all times. After all, if I’m your girlfriend, and we’re trying to make it believable, that’s what you have to do.”

Surprisingly, he was listening with no interruptions. “Oh, and also, I am not going to be some slut toy you play around with. You are not allowed to speak to other girls or anything like that, because as I said, I’d really like to be respected.” 

"You sound jealous," he says with a smirk.

You chuck a pillow at him without saying anything, and he dodges it. You could've thrown the dagger in your pants at him; it would've been way more satisfying to watch the blood roll out of his throat, but he didn't need to know you have that yet.

“Okay, alright, I can do that.” Wow, he really did not mind any of what you just said, maybe this was going to be fine. 

“Now get the fuck out of my room, I need to sleep,” there it is. “I’ll meet you at the dining hall in a few hours for breakfast.” 

You stand up and head toward the door, but before you can leave, he interrupts you.

"Oh, and I hope your leg gets worse," he sneers at you.

You ignore him as you sneak out of the Slytherin common room and head to your own. 

tags:

@aur0ral1ghts @collectionof-cells @lovemiss-vale

[lloydfrontera]

Helloo (๑'ᵕ'๑)⸝*

How are ya? I hope yer doing well :D

Btw how do you handle llyod and javier bromance? I am currently rereading tged in preparation to read tcpsm but mann i forget how extra EXTRA bromantic they are and like whenever i read their interactions my heart feels as if it's being squeezed especially knowing the ending LIKE WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY AREN'T SECRETLY MARRIED ACKKKKKKKKK ᵢ ₐₘ ₛₚᵢᵣₐₗₗᵢₙ𝓰 _(:‚‹」∠)_

omg hiii!!

oh that's an easy question! i don't :)

there's a reason i've been here since 2022, these idiots drove me insane and i'm barely recovering from it! i have so many posts where i break down exactly why i think the ending of tged is Not Great so i won't bore you with it again, but believe me i've gone off the deep end about it more times that i want to admit.

it will never not rub me the wrong way that if either of them was a girl, there would be absolutely no doubt at all that they were in love with each other. hell, even by the in-universe requirements to marry lloyd, javier is the person who best fits the bill in the entire world. the only reason they don't end up together is because they're both guys and it's so fucking obvious it's a little maddening.

that being said.

i think their relationship in canon is incredibly compelling even if we leave aside romance. they love each other so much and there's literally no way to deny it because the devotion they have for each other is the backbone of the plot. without their relationship there's simply no novel.

they are each other's most important person in the whole wide world. they wanted to spend the rest of their lives at each other's side and if they couldn't then they gladly offered their life so the other could survive.

and spoilers for cpsm but they are so enmeshed with each other that not even death could really keep them apart.

i'm at a point where i genuinely think that adding romance to their relationship would just be like... the cherry on top, y'know?? what they have is already so fucking good, making them kiss wouldn't be so much an improvement as a nice add-on. good to have but not indispensable.

if anything i'm more mad at the fact bk moon insisted on giving lloyd an underdeveloped, rushed and unnecessary romance that took him away from his home, instead of letting him enjoy the life he worked so hard to have with his family. i'm upset that he seemed to think lloyd couldn't have a happy ending unless he was married to a woman, no matter how little sense it made for his arc and how little he seems to want that.

ANYWAY i love them dearly and someone needs to take my keyboard away before i expand on it lmao

[nakidoriii]

See You Later, Mr. President (Part 6)

Hawks x Fem!Reader Mini Series

FIND PARTS 1-5 HERE

Warnings: allegations of sexual assault, adult themes || MDNI

Art: Pinterest (if you know the artist please tag them!)

“Should we be on the same laptop or on separate ones?” You ask as you set up the webcam.

“Let’s just join the call together. Nothing to be worried about okay? No matter what, we will persevere.” Keigo states.

You give him a thumbs up, followed by a determined look on your face. You set the laptop on the kitchen island counter, making sure your background was clear. Keigo comes and sits next to you on the barstool, his hand planted on your thigh. You adjust the camera so that you both are in frame. You start the call.

“Good afternoon, Mr. President. Y/N.” Your boss says.

“Good afternoon.” You both say in unison.

“I’ve requested this call in light of the recent video that’s been circulating of you, Mr. President. We have some speculation that the woman in the video is Y/N. People are speculating that the actions in the video were non consensual. So let’s address the elephant in the room, is that you, Y/N?” He asks.

Your heart was beating so intensely, it was hard to think. All you had to do was be honest but you felt scared in the moment. It’s not that you didn’t want to clear Keigo’s name, it’s more so that the career you’ve worked your whole life for is about to shatter into a million pieces. Your breathing starts to hasten. Keigo squeezes your thigh as an attempt to calm you down.

“Yes, the woman in the video is me.” You admit.

“And was it consensual?” He asks.

“Yes.” You both say in unison.

Your boss lets out a sigh and begins writing things down.

“As you know it’s a violation of your contract to be romantically involved with our collaborator. You will be facing some consequences as any employee would.” He says as he continues jotting things down. “HR will need a week to go over and investigate your case. During that time, you will be on an unpaid one week suspension. All your accommodation that we pay for will be on hold as well. That means your employee card and hotel will be cancelled. If we decide to further employment you will have access to those things again.”

“May I interject?” Keigo demands.

You raise your brows in reaction to the change in Keigo’s demeanor. He was pissed. He couldn’t sit there and watch you get scolded when you are their best employee. You squeeze his thigh under the table, begging him not to say anything.

“Yes, Mr. President.” Your boss says

You look at him with pleading eyes, trying to stop him once again. He looks at you and then back at the laptop. He was going to do what he wanted.

“This whole thing is entirely my fault. I pursued her in hopes that your company wouldn’t find out. I mean look at her, she’s stunning.” You kick him hard as fuck under the table to redirect him. “In fact, we’ve been together for an entire month and in that month did her work fluctuate?” Keigo questions.

Your boss checks the work you’ve submitted in the past month. You’ve recruited the most kids for the hero program. He nods his head and says, “It’s improved. She had the highest number of recruitments last month.”

“And you’re penalizing her? Her heart is more in it than anyone else's. She really cares about the next generation and it shows in her work.” Keigo states.

“You’re making good points, Mr. President. However, I don’t get to decide her fate. It’s in the hands of the higher ups. All I was sent to do is let her know the consequences.” Your boss says.

“Give me their contact information, I’d like to have a word with them.” Keigo demands once again.

“I will send that over in an email. Regardless, Y/N’s suspension starts tomorrow. Plan accordingly and we will be in touch. You two enjoy the rest of your day.” Your boss says before he ends the call.

The band aid has been ripped off. You don’t feel as sad as you thought you would. Maybe because it hasn’t hit you yet? Keigo watches you to see your reaction. You two just stare at each other for a moment.

“Where am I gonna live?” You ask softly.

“You have two options: I’ll pay for your hotel or you can stay here. You’re not paying for a damn thing this week.” Keigo says as he comforts you.

“What? Noooo. That's so much, Keigo. I have some savings I can dip into.” You say as he pulls you into a hug.

“I got you into this mess. I am paying for everything. I wasn��t asking.” Keigo says as he runs his fingers through your locs.

“I’d rather stay at your place, that way you don’t have to pay for my living expenses. I’ll clean and cook in exchange.” You say looking up at him.

“You can sit on your ass the whole week for all I care. You deserve a break. You work so hard, Y/N. Let me do this for you, it’s the least I can do. If the company doesn’t want to show you your worth, let me show you it.” He pleads.

“You know what you’re so right…….fuck them!” You say as you go upstairs to find your purse. “I had the most recruitments last month and they wanna fire me just because of who I’m fucking? FUCK THEM!!! Let’s go to the hotel and get all my shit. You’re so right! I need to call Mira!!” You shout as you angrily call your best friend.

Keigo couldn’t help but smile. He’s relieved that you aren’t in pieces about this and that you know it’s just a load of corporate bullshit. He’d rather you be mad than upset.

“That’s my girl. I’ll wait down here. Gotta check some emails and make some calls. I’ll be ready whenever you are.” He shouts upstairs to you.

He sits down at his laptop and calls his publicist.

“Good Afternoon, Mr. President, how’s everything going?” She asks.

“We just got off the phone with Y/N’s employer. They’re putting her on an unpaid suspension while HR investigates.” He says while responding to emails.

“I’m so sorry to hear that. Give her my best regards.”

“Any updates on your end?”

“The public is creating serious allegations. We’ve scheduled you a televised PSA addressing them with several news media outlets in attendance. It will commence in two days from now. We will announce the PSA once you give us the greenlight.”

“Yeah, sounds good. Do you think the public will believe that Y/N is my girlfriend or do we have to stretch the truth a little?”

“Stretch the truth. The public might think she took hush money to play along so we have to really sell them on this relationship. You need to buy her a ring and say that she’s your fiancé.”

“Woooaahhh, as much as I would love that, I don’t know how she will feel about that. It’s only been a month.”

“You can make up any story you need to make it make sense, Mr.President. You’ve got two days. Brainstorm with Y/N.”

Keigo takes a deep breath and agrees to lie. He hates lying but yet again he has no choice. His phone starts vibrating during his phone call. He looks at it and sees that it’s Ochaco.

“I got another call. Call you later.” He says before swapping the calls. “Hello.”

“Hey Keigo, I was just calling to check on you. I saw the video...” She trails off.

“Did you? I’m so glad the camera got my good side.” He jokes, causing her to laugh. “I’m doing alright. This has just been a pain in the ass to deal with.”

“Let me know if this is prying but is that Y/N in the video with you?”

“You have great eyes, Urvavity. It is her. That was the day you and Ashido stopped by her hotel room. I was ‘Mister. Hottie’ or whatever Ashido said. We’ve been together for a month.” He admits.

“Ahh, that makes sense. I had a feeling you two were seeing each other but you both hid it well. I’m sorry this is being blown out of proportion. You deserve a happy ever after, Keigo. If it means anything, I will be a witness or speak at any conferences. Routing for both of you.” She says.

You come down stairs ready to go, hearing Keigo talking on the phone. You walk into the kitchen and kiss his cheek. You mouth the words, “Who is that?” He mouths the word, “Ochaco.” He puts the phone on speaker so you can hear and speak to her.

“I hope you’re not upset that I couldn't tell you, Ochaco.” You say as you wrap your arms around Keigo’s shoulders.

“Not at all, girl. I know your employers have some crazy rule in place so I get why you didn’t tell me. How have you been since the video leaked?”

You fill her in on everything: your one week suspension, the sexual assault allegations, and about them cutting your accommodations.

“That’s awful, Y/N. Just know I’ve got your back through this. I’ll hold it down at the organization since you’ll be busy, Keigo.” Ochaco says.

“That would be great. Don’t be afraid to call if you need anything.” Keigo reassures her.

“Will do! Same goes for you guys.”

He hangs up the phone and asks, “You ready to go?”

You nod your head yes and you head out to his car. During the drive you start thinking about your life and what the next steps are. If you lose your job, you’ll have to go back home. You’re still paying rent on your apartment there. What about Keigo? There’s no way he’d be able to move with you, he’s the president of the HPSC. Why stress about it when you know Keigo will say, “It’ll all work out. I promise.”

Once you get to the hotel, you collect your things and check out of the room. Keigo managed to not get recognized, just by putting on a hat and shades. During the drive back to his place, it seemed as if he wanted to tell you something. You place your hand on his thigh and say, “thank you for helping me get my stuff.”

“Anytime.” He says short. He’s clearly thinking intensely about something.

“Daijōbu desu ka?” You ask in the little Japanese you know.

He chuckles, thinking it’s cute you’re trying to learn more of his language. He lifts your hand from his thigh to his mouth, plantings small kisses on the back of your hand.

“I’m okay, sweetheart. I’m just thinking. I spoke to my publicist while you were upstairs talking with Mira and she thinks we should each deliver a statement during a televised conference. She also thinks we should say that we’re engaged.”

“Why’s that?” You ask.

“Her concern is people could think you were paid to stay quiet and play along. She said she wants to avoid any more misperceptions and honestly, I agree with her.”

“That does make sense…” you trail off.

“But it’s only if you want to. I only care about your happiness.” He says kissing your hand while he steers.

You take a moment to think. It’s not a bad idea. You want your words to hold weight when you make your statement and it’s going to take more than a “it was a drunk night out” speech. How is he going to navigate through all these questions?

“How did we meet?” you question him.

“At the corporate event your employer held last year.”

He was right. He did attend that corporate event. He spoke with the CEO the entire night.

“How long have we been together?”

“8 months. We were long distance but I would come to visit for a few days every two months.”

That checks out too. Before you relocated to Japan, Keigo would visit your workplace every two months to talk business with the owners. You couldn’t believe how he fabricated such detailed lies that he could back up with ease. You get that he was a hero that did spy work often but you weren’t aware that he was this talented at it. Matter of fact, you just realized you barely knew anything about him. You knew surface level things: his favorite food, color, etc. But nothing deeper than that. Who is he and what exactly has he been through?

“Any more questions?” He says intertwining your fingers.

“No…” You answer, deep in thought.

Keigo furrows his brows and shoots you a look of confusion. He felt your energy shift completely and he knew something was off. Why did you get all cold with him all of a sudden?

“Daijōbu?” He asks as places his hand on your thigh.

“Just overwhelmed is all.” There was some truth in that lie.

I love a good cliffhanger 😭 Part 7 is starting off smutty! Hope you all are liking the series. 4 more chapters to go! Comments and notes are greatly appreciated!

Taglist: @beautifulsandwichcrown @beabamboo @seijuroww @zinflo [open]

FIND PARTS 1-5 HERE

Please don’t alter or steal my writings. ©️

[chancedarling]

"I mean, yeah... I guess..."

Absolutely not. Even though he's sure that the secret he recieved was not about him - in that he doesn't lie about 'everything' - he lies about enough. Fuck these people. His life isn't for them to peruse.

"...I haven't heard anything so far that might sound like it's about me. And what would be gained by hiding stuff. I don't think there's anything that I would need to keep secret that badly. Like, sure I've done some embarassing stuff... But I doubt that would bother people here. So - yeah - I'd be okay about admitting it."

LOL. Liar liar pants on fire.

He does, however take the chance to look between the little strip of paper between Darcy's slender fingers and back to her face. Those puppy-eyes quite evident blinking in wide-eyed innocence before asking very, very quietly...

"Wouldn't you?"

Oh, the implication was clear from the moment the words left Darcy's mouth. That perhaps she might not be so open and honest about her secret. Whether it be this one or something else. Which also implied that the little astronaut here might really have something worth hiding. Ditzy Darcy really did just get more interesting by the minute.

But then Darcy is pulled back by his question 'why'? Of course, he doesn't correct her or let her know that - yeah - he's already worked it out, he just lets her continue until the end, spelling out his own suspicions with her words. At least, that one thing they can agree on, the sowing of discord among the ragtag populace. Just a few little pieces of paper and everyone was squinting, judging and suspicious. It really hadn't been hard to do at all - well played Flowr. One hand raises to his mouth as though to cover a mild shock about Darcy's revelation. That the idea would never have occured - though she does add a tidbit to the theory that hadn't occured to Chance yet - mix in the mundane secrets with the spicy ones. Validate a few and the rest had to be real, right? Nice work, little astronaut.

But then she laughs, as though she's brushing it off. As though the problem of secrets is hers and her's alone to solve. Spitballing about names of people who she might rule out. And he listens as she runs through them obviously dismissing each ons of her theories... it's not like couples didn't have secrets from each other - or siblings for that matter (not Chance and Cala though. One of the things that kept them strong and solid was the shared joy in each others - darker - delights). She finally mentions Lokni, and Chance just pulls a slight face.

"I dunno. The only time we talked, he was outside of Selin's hut when I showed up. Seemed to get real mad at me for just being there and then left without even knocking. Seemed a bit... Uh.... Weird."

Which - for a change, was actually the absolute truth. Of course, Chance had rather enjoyed the attempt at posturing, rather taking advantage of Lokni's clear defensiveness over the whole situation. That had been a fun little interlude.

And while he's not outwardly accusing him of anything, Chance does like to sow those little seeds of doubt here and there. And now seemed like the perfect opportunity.

However, when Darcy asks what he thinks, Chance decides it's time for curveball number two-o.

He doesn't waste his time procrastinating over who might be the owner of said secret.

"What if... Some of the secrets... aren't secrets at all?"

"I mean, like you said, if some of them turn out to be true, then people will assume they all are. So... Maybe some people had secrets shared that they wouldn't mind admitting to... To... Y'know... Validate or something. And the rest are just bits of paper with awful things written on them - but they don't actually belong to anyone?"

"What if people aren't owning up to a secret because... Well... There isn't one about them. And the... uh... meaner ones are just there to throw more shade and rile folks up, get them all suspicious over nothing? Like... We can't prove or disprove that they are ALL real... Y'know?"

Darcy tilted her head, watching Chance curiously for a few moments. "So what you're saying is that if it is a secret about you that you'd actually not want getting out - not saying that there is such a thing, but if there is one -, and yet it's on one of these little pieces of tape and the person who got it flat out asks if it's about you, you'd be totally okay about just admitting it's about you?"

Maybe the little bit of disbelief in her voice said more about Darcy than it did about anything else, really - cause she certainly wouldn't admit to a lot of things in her past, even if it was just in a simulation, while not every single person's immediate reaction would be to deny a secret. But the question was out there already, no taking it back, and really, people weren't openly coming forward left and right about what their secret was, so other people were thinking along the same line as she did to some degree at least.

And once she saw the tiny piece of tape that Chance got, her stomach dropped, annoyed at herself for insinuating that she'd lie about her own secret if it came down to it. Cause this little piece of paper in her hand... if it was about her, there was no way she would admit to it.

This was one of the worst ones, somewhere close below the one about murdering people. Then again, it could be about other people, too? It didn't have her name plastered onto it - and that was the fucking point.

Chance's words about missing the point was what shook her out of the spiral she was slowly going down and she reacted instinctively, without even really thinking about it as she looked up to him finally, "Oh, you haven't figured that one out yet? It's exactly that - to turn us against each other. To sow distrust. That's why there are different levels of secrets. Cause it's that much more easier to admit to an affair that doesn't even affect people around here or to something smaller and more embarrassing than anything. And once there's that confirmation that all the secrets are real, everyone else starts looking at each other about the shitty ones. About the ones that contain secrets where you don't want to be on the same beach with the person it's about."

Her mind was spinning, really - maybe she really shouldn't have spelled it out like that. Something she's been thinking about since she realized she wasn't the only one who got a piece of tape and especially since Selin told her what her tape said. About somebody being a murderer among them. Cause really, who cared about a little affair when a killer walked among them. But then again, if she didn't start theorizing, if she didn't solve something so clear and simple while she was holding that fucking piece of paper Chance gave her, wouldn't that make her more suspicious. Whether it was about her or not, if she just tried to bury it, he'd immediately suspect her, right.

Which also meant, after a small glance down at the tape in her hands, she glanced back at Chance, raising it up. "This is one of those people would absolutely not want to admit to and others wouldn't want to be on the same beach with. Somebody sees this and suddenly, it's that much easier to admit to an affair at work, right?"

And the big question, really - who it could be about. "God, all of these secrets really just make me feel like I am the worst at getting to know people cause I keep having no clue," Darcy chuckled, scratching her forehead. "Like, I figured out this entire beach, I should be able to figure some of them out at least, right? But nope. I have no clue and I feel bad for my first thought wondering if it's Adarsh cause the amnesia would be a really easy lie to hide basically anything." Okay, not first thought, but that she would keep to herself.

"I think it would be easier to say who I would rule out - you, for one. Nobody would actually get their own secret and if you did and this was yours, you just wouldn't show it around. Calamity is also out - there's no way to keep lying about literally everything when you have a sibling on the island and your stories would have to match. Too many chances for slipping up. Based on the same logic, probably Tej and Zaid are also out. Alex we all know really was a tv show host, so we know for a fact he is not lying about everything. And Akhila has to have an actual medical degree, otherwise somebody would have already lost a limb and we'd be in much worse of a case, so she cannot be lying about everything either. But the rest... well, most of them I'd still say that I cannot possibly imagine them either, like can you imagine somebody like, say, Lokni, lying through his teeth? Cause I really can't, but then we're back to square one on who it actually can be."

She overdid it, she suddenly got worried, but really, if she just didn't say anything, if she ignored totally logical things and didn't point them out, it would be a lot weirder. And it wasn't about her anyway, it was different. Her situation was different. (She tried to convince herself anyway.) "What do you think?"

[egophiliac]

A-anime?

you know, sometimes I forget that Twst is actually an isekai that starts with the protagonist getting run over by an inexplicable horse-drawn carriage. and every time I'm reminded is a delight because that's AMAZING.

also. look. okay. there's a lot of very fun stuff in the trailer but I am obsessed with that Crowley surprised pikachu face. me when I spend all my keys and gems literally hours before they announce overblot SSRs and drop the anime trailer:

[ricketycr1cks]

And if I say Mac grew up equating love to cigarette burns and absent fathers and getting told to toughen up, that Mac doesn’t understand love that isn’t conditional, love without equal parts hate or distaste, that never in his life has Mac understood earnest love, that even though Dennis isn’t trying to, he often ends up re-confirming this idea in Macs head, that love is hatred, that-