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madelinemccoolname · 10 months ago

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Slime girl hrt

So, you’ve decided you’re a slimegirl. I’ve been on fluid replacement therapy, commonly referred to as slime hrt or shortened to frt, for five years but I haven’t managed to find a decent guide on the effects I’ve been experiencing anywhere on the internet. So I’ve decided to make this little guide for anyone who might still be on the fence. Keep in mind obviously I don’t speak for everyone and other goorl’s timelines might look a little bit different based on like genetics or something.

0-6 months

• For the first 3 months the effects are, I’m told, similar to estrogen’s first couple months, you’ll notice for sure your skin getting softer, your face might round out a bit, but the most you get are the side effects

• I personally was not prepared for how thirsty I got, I had heard about it but you really don’t know how much of your body isn’t liquid until you’re replacing all of it

• At 4 months is when I noticed my skin and body were moving kinda differently, tho this got the most pronounced at 6 months

• At 6 months all of my skin rippled like the surface of a pond whenever anyone touched me or like if the wind started blowing

• My joints got a lot more flexible, and my elbows and knees became double jointed (don’t do this too much)

• My hair didn’t get tangled overnight anymore

• My finger prints went away

6-12 months

• Here’s where the real magic starts, I got a lot thirstier for one and specifically had cravings for gatorade, I think this has something to do with slimegirls being partially salt water, but it could also be the food coloring in it (this is a joke about me drinking a lot of light blue gatorade and then being light blue)

• On the subject of color my skin got a sort of blue tinge to it, and most notably got completely see through by my 8 month mark

• The changes start from the thinnest part of your body and goes in towards your core, so even by 5 months your fingertips might be completely clear

• This next part is partially why I wanted to make this guide, so obviously your body doesn’t liquify at the same rate all over, for me this meant I was able to see the muscle in my upper arms if I looked through my fingers, this is both normal and something you’re going to have to get used to as you continue your journey

• Your toes are also going to turn at the same rate, this will probably be your first experience with lint getting in your slime bits, you don’t need to worry about your bloodstream getting infected with sock but regularly picking out bits is good hygiene and something you wanna get into the habit of

• My hair officially finished it’s transition into one solid shape, it still had defined follicles but if you tried to grab a strand of hair the rest would try to come with it

• People also started to ask me who dyed my hair, please note it’s always funny to say “it’s the way Goo-d made me” in response to this

12-24 months

• This window is larger than the others because all you’re going to notice from now on are the big changes

• Avoid tanktops past 14 months, your arms should be entirely translucent at this point and while having a buncha stuff floating around in my goo is kinda gender for me, people generally do not like to see slightly dissolved organs and ribcage

• 14 months was also when I noticed that my arm bones had entirely disappeared, my leg bones were also just barely holding in there, moving without bones was so freeing

• if you ever want anyone you know to stick their fingers in your slime, now’s probably the first time anyone's willing to stick their fingers far into your arms and legs, try to get them to wiggle their fingers. if they’re really adventurous they’ll stick their whole arm through to the other side, which still makes me a little squeamish

• Now that we’re at the part where I was mostly slime, we should probably talk about slime color. I’m going to dispel this misinformation, there is no way to find out what color a slimegirl is going to be before she starts transitioning. Some people say its eye color but that’s a lie. I am naturally a blue slime girl but my eyes pretransition were green. To dispel another myth you can dye yourself with food coloring, so you don’t even really have to stress about it

• By 18 months the only part of me that wasn’t slime was my head, the skull takes the longest time to dissolve because you’re doing the skull and all the organs in there all at once, see the human body really really wants to keep the brain safe, so when your brain gets the signal to get rid of your bones, it just does it all at once

• Some people say their eyesight got better, tho that seems to be anecdotal (mine stayed the same sadly)

• 18 months is also when I started experimenting with my shape. This was probably the most frustrating part of it for me, shapeshifting your goo is like a muscle, the more you do it the easier it’ll get. If you want a specific shape, spend enough time in it, and it’ll become your default shape, though you’ll never forget your original shape.

• 24 months is the last point I want to cover, by 24 months I was 100% liquid, the heavy viscosity from early transition leads to something closer to a liquid jello. I can detach parts of my body and then move to replace it, and I can reabsorb the parts I leave behind

• Clothes should rest just on the surface of you, though I know a lot of girls just change themselves to look clothed (probably more than you think ;)

• Suspenders and heavy cardigans break surface tension for me, luckily that's also a cute look so sometimes I match my cardigan with overalls for an aquarium effect on the overall straps

• This was also when I stopped breathing and going to the bathroom

• Some people report “knowing” when certain parts of their brain turn into goo, I didn’t experience that but it certainly could happen

Things I didn’t know where else they would fit

• I feel like a lot of this post was mainly dry, so in the interest of avoiding having a dry slime girl post, this section will mostly just be slime things that brought me joy

• I love speaking in slime puns, I keep a little book of slime puns and slant rimes just in case the slime arises that i would ever ooze some

• Being out in the rain or being out on a windy day is so much better when you can feel your entire body move in the wind, in particular go out on a rainy day without anything on, and lay down on the ground, the rain rippling through your entire body is heavenly

• Speaking of weather, when I first noticed I was refracting light on a sunny day I almost started crying, I felt so pretty and right :)

• I said I stopped needing to use the bathroom, but I still do siphon off some goo once a month. Mostly this is to get out bits of trash that accumulate and also because it feels exactly like taking a shower after a hard sweaty day’s work

• Speaking of bits, get a powerful magnet and metal shaving and you could probably waste a whole day just moving metal shavings through your body

• This might be a bit late in the guide for this, but when my arms finally turned I pulled a great prank on my at the time girlfriend by sticking my hand into a blender (do not do this if you still have bones, or value your girlfriend not being really really mad at you)

So that's all you need to know before starting frt, becoming the slime of your dreams is a difficult and beautiful process. I know a lot of what i described here might be frightening but if it sounds enticing at all know that it’s worth it.

#hrt that makes you slime #slime girls #slimegirl #slimegender #slimegirls #slime girl #fantasy hrt #creative writing #my writing #writing #slime #the writer's poorly disguised transition goals #slight body horror #transgender #goo girl #goo #monster girl

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jello-chennie · 1 year ago

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relationship hcs!

✧ pairing izuku, katsuki, eijirou, shouto w/ fem!reader

✧ genre/tw fluff ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

✧ a/n check out my masterlist!

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ izuku ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

isn't at all sure about how he pulled you

but he did and he isnt complaining

would absolutely love a kind soul in his partner

he swoons anytime you do little things to take care of him like if you know he has a pretty busy day, even if you're busy too, you go out of your way to make him a cup of coffee or tea and you always seem to get it just right

or whenever he's super focused on something the past few days and starts getting a little scatter brained, he'll forget to eat

if you're in ua, you'll share your lunch with him (which he will deny at first, but when you start pouting at him, he cant say no)

if he's a pro-hero and working, you take him out to lunch on his break

doesn't matter how far into your relationship you two are, he's always getting flustered by you

despite that, he's always trying to make you laugh (even if it means dying inside from embarrassment)

izuku cannot formally confirm or deny whether or not he may or may not be intentionally getting a few extra bumps and scrapes just so you can take the time to gently and lovingly bandage his wounds

loves it when you cut his hair for him!

even when you mess up (his chest will hurt a little with embarrassment whenever he's out in public, but only a little bc you did something for him, and he loves that more than anything else)

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ katsuki ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

totally would end up in a relationship in which you are his polar opposite

everyone is confused

but it totally works!

you're super shy and sweet, and hes audacious and a little abrasive

he pulls you out of your shell and makes you become less of a doormat, you reign him in a bit and round out his sharper edges

when he takes you to meet his parents, it doesn't fly past him that the two of you have a dynamic that reminds him of his parents

which pisses him off to no end bc that means he truly is his mother's son

he's become his mother

bakugou doesn't form close relationships easily, and is definitely an all or nothing kind of guy

once you're in, you're locked in

it doesn't take him very long to start fantasizing about marriage and kids once you officially become a couple

he is you're personal chef

and once you both enter the workforce, he takes extreme pride in making your lunch for you

can and will enter a silent competition with the significant other's of your coworkers for who can make the best bento

probably makes a social media page dedicated to making cooking videos in which he posts aesthetic af videos of him making meals for you

"pro-hero dynamite is famous on the internet for also being a gourmet chef!"

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ eijirou ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

kirishima would definitely fall for someone super fem presenting

he works out all the time and has all these muscles solely for the purpose of carrying things for you

and carrying you

afterall, that's what a real man does

will stop and buy all the pretty things he sees in store that remind him of you

likes it when you stick some of your cute stickers you make him take you to the mall to go buy onto his gear

is tickled pink by headlines that show up the next day like "red riot big sanrio fan?"

has matching sanrio keychains on his phone case with you

loves to sit and watch you do your makeup

will sit next to you and ask you to explain it to him

kiri will never say no when you ask to put it on him

after all, what kind of man would have his masculinity threatened by a little makeup?

besides, it's not like he can say no when you look up at him with those big, pretty eyes, and the cute, hopeful, little grin on your face

that would be just wrong

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ shouto ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

one of the types of people i see shouto falling for is someone who is a bit of a spitfire

someone who is caring, compassionate, and understanding

someone with endless amounts of kindness in their heart, and a little wise, but relentlessly brazen

he both loves and admires them, and falls for their personality

i see shouto taking little bits and pieces of his partner's personality, and they are ultimately responsible for shouto becoming a little more outspoken

shouto is someone who would become a teeny bit obsessed with his partner

you officially have a shadow once you get together bc he will have no problem following you everywhere, and wanting to hangout with you all the time

isn't at all nervous about having you meet his dad, bc shouto knows that if endeavor starts pissing you off, you'll find a way to respectfully tell him to fuck off without missing a beat

you're also super smart and emotionally intelligent, so when his family life starts to become particularly messy at the moment, you're right by his side helping him navigate

shouto loves you for being his lover and his confidant, constantly there for him with open arms and advice that's strangely wiser beyond your years

once shouto's dad stops being crummy, endeavor actually comes to respect you

shouto's mom and sister love you, and the three of you gossip like school girls

which makes shouto a little jealous when he feels left out

shouto's the kind of bf to get jealous of the cat that he wanted but ended up liking you more

won't say anything, and will spend all day pouting in a corner some where

you have to give him ton of affection to make it up to him

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piratefishmama · 4 months ago

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Just ONE chance | Part 1

Eddie Munson was only certain about one thing in his life, and that was that it was supposed to end in his twenties.

But it didn’t.

Thanks to a very dedicated swimsuit model with first aid training, a kick up the backside from Wayne, and a solid year long stint in rehab, Eddie Munson did not die at 23 years of age, when he fell, system full of drugs, into a pool head first from the pool house roof and didn’t QUITE stick the landing.

His head hit the edge of the pool, dyed the water a sickly red.

He still had the scar, he knew he was infinitely lucky that that was ALL he had, but that scar remained forever, buried beneath the mass of curls atop his head where they’d had to operate to reduce the swelling. A terrifying reminder that life was fleeting, and fragile, and god he could have died.

He could have wound up paralyzed, he could have wound up permanently disabled needing round the clock care, could have wound up as ANYTHING but perfectly healthy. Doctors said he must have had some kind of exhausted guardian angel looking out for him because a miracle was really all they had to describe it as.

Eddie gave a toast of apple juice to the terribly drab ceiling of his private hospital room, thanked his mother who’d long since passed for her life saving help because honestly who else would it have been, and then, after that kick up the backside from Wayne, not that it was needed but it was appreciated, he proceeded to fix his life.

Of course, the rockstar life wasn’t easily fixed, but he was a man on a mission. A man with a life he realised that he actually wanted to live.

Corroded Coffin hit fame early, they struck what initially appeared to be gold at some back ally dive bar in Indy, a guy, a fancy embossed business card, a label, words of promise like roses hiding thorns. It was all flashing lights and good times at first. They were thrust upon massive stages to crowds mostly paid to be there to make it look ‘packed,’ label never told them that, they’d told them they’d put their material out on the air and people had responded well, half-truths really. They had gotten the music out there, but the people hadn’t really come until those packed venues hit the magazines.

Everyone wanted to be part of the next big thing. The up and coming next big name in the music industry, already selling out shows!

They were stars, they were famous, they were puppets on strings being pulled this way and that, given alcohol and drugs and thrust into the limelight to dance a jig that’d keep them relevant, not for their music but for their mess.

How very entertaining a human can be when they’re not fully coherent, when they exist purely to make a mess of themselves.

He’d lost himself, his bandmates lost themselves, and only through him not dying did they finally realise that somewhere along the way things had gone so terribly wrong, only then did they finally realise that those perfumed words said in a dank bar back in Indy those years ago, were just well masked poison all along.

They spent two years of their lives after Eddie emerged from Rehab, two years and frankly way too much of the money they’d risked their very lives to earn, to free themselves from the web of legal bullshit their label had ensnared them in.

But they were free. Sure, some of their old material was lost, claimed by their old label, but a quick rerecord, few changes here and there and a solid re-release under their own, self-made label, Corroded Records, well. They weren’t too worried about the future after that. Sure, their old label attempted to slander them online, tried to spread awareness of how they’d paid their earlier audiences to attend shows, but the real fans didn’t care.

The real fans hit back just as hard.

Used that fancy lil internet gizmo everyone now seemed to have to spread awareness on the frankly abhorrent practices their old label had engaged in, practices they hadn’t only used on Corroded Coffin, but several other smaller, younger, vulnerable members of the entertainment industry.

It was a long hard slog to the top full of pains, addictions, rehabilitations, and recoveries. But finally, they had their footing. They were making new music. They were comfortable. They were happy.

It was a brand new, quickly evolving world, and thanks to those new world advancements, thanks to home computers, laptops, smart phones, tablets… the internet, they very quickly found they had a way to get their creations out to everyone from the comforts of a home studios while they figured themselves out post nightmare. Dove into their roots, rediscovered themselves, thrived.

But survival didn’t come without its downsides.

Eddie Munson… hadn’t died at 23 years of age, but that didn’t mean he’d gotten to live straight away afterwards. Even as a clean and sober man, there were things he hadn’t done, things that’d just… taken a back seat on the list of priorities while the years had ticked on by during their long haul trek to creative freedom.

Life had taken a backseat. For him at least.

Gareth had found himself a girlfriend, and now fiancée in a girl they’d known of back in high school, but had only recently reconnected after they found out she was a back up dancer in one of their new music videos. Once Head Cheerleader, now professional dancer Chrissy Cunningham, the reunion had been adorable, and aired on TV in ‘behind the scenes’ footage.

Jeff had had an ongoing thing with the backup drummer they’d taken up at a gig when Gareth had broken his arm a few years back. Never having been able to talk about it publicly thanks to their old label.

And Dougie was engaged, fell ass over tit for their lawyers assistant, thankfully it was mutual. Their relationship was a whirlwind but soulmates were supposed to be like that.

Eddie was thrilled for them all, really he was but no matter how much he’d realised he’d wanted to LIVE after nearly dying… he still hadn’t really lived at all. He was still just… Eddie Munson, now thirty something rockstar. Single, sober, and honestly kind of sad.

So sue him if he watched a few slice of life things on the internet every now and then.

The bands accounts were thriving nicely with him at the helm, he got the hang of itquickly enough, adapted well as the technologies advanced, so much so that people accurately guessed very early on that it was him running the channel himself, rather than a social media professional. It was a nice distraction! Kept him busy, allowed him to watch silly little videos and find the occasional fan being adorable in their mentions, he loved his band accounts.

But his private account was his favourite.

Because of her.

He’d found her videos on the camera app within a few hours of signing up the bands account, and very quickly made a private one just to follow hers.

Was it weird? Was it a little stalkerish? From the experience could he possibly understand where some of his own fans were coming from when they stalked the bands socials? All of the above, yes.

But he’d found a goddess on his very first real adventure into the internet. He figured he ought to be cut some slack!

Stevie was her name, or Stephanie, but she never went by Stephanie. He found out very quickly that she was a mother through her morning makeup videos where she ranted about PTA mothers, from what he heard, Sally was evil and her potato salad was garbage.

He would have been more than happy to just watch. He followed the account on his private one very early on, and he’d have been content to just simply watch, swoon in silence, appreciate every little mole he could see on her without ever doing anything about it. He’d had crushes as a kid, he wasn’t a stranger to unrequited attraction, or even completely one sided attraction cause the other person didn’t know you exist, so it didn’t matter to him that she would never really know he existed.

He didn’t even comment on her videos. Liked them sometimes, but he’d never commented. Even on the one where she let slip that she’d been single for a while. He remained respectful.

That was… until the lunch videos.

Specifically, the little teddy bear thing she did with the rice.

He didn’t know what it was about that specific video, he’d watched a few of her cute lunch videos before, the sushi was adorable although not to Eddie’s taste, the ramen pots? Genius, Eddie had even tried to do that himself a few times, although the ‘soup’ never tasted half as good as hers looked like it would be, the little fruit animals? He actually, for a moment, genuinely wanted to eat fruit!

But he still kept his words to himself.

But that little teddy bear… nestled in a cushion of healthy greens with a small pot of home-made sauce on the side, it hit Eddie in a way he couldn’t really explain, he wanted that. Wanted someone who loved so hard that they went out of their way to make cute lunches for the person they loved the most. He wanted… the domesticity of it all. She didn’t just have what he wanted. A life. A lived life. She was what he wanted.

Everything about her, that he knew at least, that she was smart, creative, full of love, beautiful, but also pretty damn feisty if her inspired rants about Sally and her potato salad were anything to go by. He wanted her.

He typed a comment, hit send, closed the app, and turned off his phone. Certain that that would be it, she’d ignore his personal account, as she ignored everyone else, he’d get the urge out of his system, he’d feel sad for a little while after the inevitable ignoring, and all would be well.

If only he’d have just looked at the account he was on, before he pressed send.

Maybe it’d have protected his poor front door from the abuse it suffered a few hours later when Dougie finally realised he was at home, because really out of all four of them, Dougie really was the only one with the solid arm strength to really beat the shit out of his front door.

“EDDIE, OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!” Or the vocals to reach him all the way up in his bedroom where he’d very maturely burritoed himself after turning his phone off.

It’d been up for hours. Had he not turned his phone off, he’d have known immediately, because it wouldn’t have shut up, there were over fifty thousand likes on his comment already, over six thousand replies to it.

And the first video on his for you page was someone REACTING to it.

There were screenshots circulating. Stevie hadn’t replied to it, everyone ELSE had, but she hadn’t, deleting it wouldn’t do anything, but he did it anyway. The damage was done, the spotlight was lit and aimed. It was only when the others managed to get to his place and get him seated on his comfy couch, that he finally asked the most important question. “What should I do?”

“Well… we could blame an imaginary social media guy” Gareth offered, already expecting the following, “tell everyone it was just an oopsie?”

“Nah, everyone knows Eddie mans the account” from Jeff. “Maybe we just… silent treatment it, let it blow over?”

“That’s not exactly fair on Stevie though, is it?” Chrissy piped up from where she’d perched herself on the arm of the chair Gareth was sat on. “She’s been thrown into the spotlight here and some of your fans can be kinda… intense.”

“She’s an influencer though, being in the spotlight is like her job.”

“Uh, no, Dougie. She’s not.” Chrissy argued “nothing she does is sponsored, she’s just… popular, and Eddie’s just given her a lot of unwanted attention. Eddie… you really should address it. Either say you were joking if you were, or… I dunno, own it. Be serious about it.”

“Were you joking?” Jeff stepped a little closer, into Eddie’s space, crouching down a little to his level. “Was this just little Eddie talking? Or—or were you serious? Like, she’s hot, don’t get me wrong—”

Gareth snorted, cutting him off “you think she’s hot?”

“I’m gay, Gare, I’m not blind. Eddie?”

“…An if I were serious? Would that be okay? I could hear a but before Garebear interrupted.”

“But, she does have a kid, right? She comes with a real little human being, kids are fragile, impressionable, opinionated, and rockstar lives aren’t kid friendly most of the time… I know we’ve cooled it down, and I know you’re great with kids, Ed but… are you prepared to like… have one? Like a whole ‘this is one I made earlier’ little kid with its own pre-built personality that you’ve made zero contributions to?”

“I made zero contributions to you shits too and yet you turned out alright” Eddie sniped right back, a little more defensive than he really had any right to be. “If it weren’t for me hunting this lil chubby cheeked fuck down after his first hellfire he wouldn’t even be here!” Eddie motioned to Gareth, who squawked in objection

“Hey! I’m neutral here leave me out of it!”

“Do you not think I could take care of one?” Eddie ignored Gareth completely, eyes on Jeff, who shook his head without any offense taken from the outburst.

“I think you’d be great at it, I’m pretty sure you’d be like, the first choice for godfather if any of us had kids, but I’m asking you… are you prepared to take one on right now, even if they might not like you very much at first, if she’s interested? Because that kid will come with her, there’s no ignoring that.”

He didn’t even have to think about it. Even though the godfather thing was something he’d undoubtedly circle back to later, his answer was an instant “Yes.”

“Then own it. You have our support to use the account to make a public statement, however you choose. See where it gets you.”

His public statement was a picture, a black square with big white writing on it. Just a big ol ‘WHOOPS’, captioned “I regret nothing. Just ONE chance, sweetheart, just one.” And then he opened their DM’s in the hopes that maybe.

Just maybe.

She’d message.

Part 3

#Piratewrites #justonechancefictlet #Part 2 of 4 #minor Gareth/Chrissy #Eddie putting a lot of faith in a 'whoopsiieee teehee' right there

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th3-3d3n-g4rd3n · 4 months ago

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I’m dying scavenging the internet for more Carl grimes x fem! reader fics. I love the idea of wear the hat ride the cowboy. Maybe with the virgin trope if you write that. Love some smut! No Rush, get to it when/ if you get to it! ❤️

omg this is beautiful and you’re so sweet

(i had to write this twice because i forgot to save it the first time so i’m sorry it took so long 😭🫶)

☆彡༄

virgin! Carl Grimes x fem!reader

(reader and Carl are 18+) (i kinda pictured Carl being 18 and reader being like 22 but you can picture however you want)(suggested that the reader isn't a virgin)

cw: established relationship, riding, kindaaa subby Carl, I’m actually so unserious in the intro, dry humping, reader calls Carl cowboy, Carl is vocal and his parents are downstairs, premature ejac... he's very eager bless him, fem receiving oral

1024 words

☆彡༄

Carl Grimes is adorable. That’s the only word that comes to your mind right now, adorable.

His consistent smile, adorable. His random compliments throughout the day, adorable. His hugs from behind when he wants your attention, adorable. And, you KNOW that it should just warm your heart but for some reason, it’s warming somewhere else (if ya know what I mean…)

You and Carl were given the afternoon off so, you'd decided to read comics in his bedroom. You had eventually gotten a little bored (and bothered) so, what else to do but annoy your beautiful boyfriend?

Snatching his hat, you place it on your head and smirk up at him, sticking your tongue out. Jokingly, he rolls his eyes and says, “hey, careful. You know what they say?” You giggle at his response, “what do they say, Carl. Tell me” you reply, not knowing where he’s going with this, “wear the hat, ride the cowboy!” he chuckles.

You smile at his goofiness, before you got an idea.

You sit up and straddle his lap, “oh yeah, Cowboy? You want me to ride you?” you say with confidence that you must’ve pulled from your ass because you have no idea where that came from (hehe). For a moment, his flushed face and unhinged jaw that the boy below you presents make you think that you’ve made him uncomfortable. You consider getting off and just walking away, taking the embarrassment and probably never talking again. That was until he starts shaking his head yes rapidly.

His hands latch onto your hips, “are you being serious? Like, is that an actual offer?” You giggle a bit at his enthusiastic tone, "yeah... If you want me?"

"Hell yeah!" he shouts with wide eyes, to which you have to cover his mouth, "as much as I love your enthusiasm, stay quiet, Carl", you chuckle a bit to yourself at the situation, "your parents are downstairs," you remind him. His mouth drops to an O shape and he smirks in realisation, "oh shit... yeah."

You both sit there in silence for a minute, making sure that nobody was coming upstairs. When you hear nothing, you take the initiative to start moving your hips on top of his, catching him by surprise and making him sharply moan under the change of friction. You clasp your hand over his mouth oncemore, quickly realising how vocal the boy would be.

It doesn't take long before the boy's chest is heaving up and down, his lightly freckled face had been flushed with a deep scarlet. Of course, you promised that you'd ride him so, you couldn't have him cumming too soon. Stopping your movements, the needy boy whined from the loss of friction however, he stopped complaining when you took your top and bra off. He once again freezes in position, unsure of what to do. Since you knew he was a virgin, you took pity on his cluelessness and decided to give him some help, taking his hands off of your hips and placing them on your breasts to which he quite literally squeaks. "Don't twist your panties, Cowboy. Just take them off." You lift your hips and gesture to his jeans.

"Yes, Ma'am" he said, hardly above a whisper - unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans and, pulling them down and off before looking back up at you like an innocent puppy. God, he really drove you crazy.

Luckily, you were wearing a skirt so all you had to do was move your panties to the side before slowly sinking onto his dick. It was so annoying that his parents were downstairs because the erotic whine that emerged from the man below you was hot enough to make you almost cum on the spot. Unfortunately, it was muffled by your hand since you already knew what to expect from your vocal boyfriend.

"God, you look so pretty like this, Cowboy" you tease him. All he can do is look up at you with glazed-over eyes, cherry cheeks and swollen lips, continuing to moan behind your palm - already sporting a fucked-out expression. When he started bucking his hips up into you, you knew he wouldn't last much longer but, you didn't mind, I mean you knew he was a virgin so, you weren't expecting him to last long anyway.

"shit, shit, shit, 'm gonna-" he mumbles quickly before you feel his body tense and squirm beneath yours. You slow your movements, letting him ride out his orgasm before stopping fully. "That was so fucking hot, thank you.." he whispers to you, "you don't have to thank me, Cowboy. You're so cute."

He hides his flushed face in your neck and places soft kisses at the base of it. That was before he had a realisation, "you didn't get to cum, did you?" he said whilst wearing a lightly guilty expression. "No I didn't but, it's okay, I promise"

"No, it's not. Don't worry, I'll take care of you!" he smiles at you innocently before grabbing onto your hips, flipping you over, stripping you of your skirt and undies and lowering his face to your cunt. "You really don't have to, Carl it's oka-" you're cut off by the eager lapping of your clit, making your head fall into the mattress below you.

He was surprisingly skilled to say that he'd never done this before, keeping his mouth trained on your clit, sucking and circling whilst raising his calloused hands to your thighs and massaging them, before taking his right hand to insert a finger into your hole skillfully and, taking his other hand to your breast and massaging it like he was prior.

This time, you were the one having to cover your mouth due to being the centre of his attention. He inserts another finger and starts curling them in and out, hitting all the spots that you'd never been able to reach on yourself before.

Soon enough, you feel the knot in your stomach become undone and, your body spasms under his gentle touch; he watches you release on his fingers and listens to your muffled moans in awe.

"Shit, I could see you do that 100 times over"

I HOPE THIS IS OKAY

i quite like this one but you guys lmk what you think

love u, eden

#smut #sub character #sub x reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes #carl grimes smut #twd #the walking dead

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olderthannetfic · 10 months ago

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Until I read the comments on that one post I had no idea the Bechdel Test was a joke and wasn't supposed to be a serious measuring stick by which you gauged if something was feminist or not. Everywhere I'd ever heard it brought up, it was brought up as a very serious thing, and it was a failure of media if it didn't pass it. I remember the debate about Mako Mori from Pacific Rim and if she was a character you were "allowed" to like as a progressive person despite the fact that Pacific Rim doesn't pass the Bechdel Test, the discourse, the discussion of if the director was sexist for not writing in another woman for her to chat with about non-men related stuff, the camp of people trying to insist that having a fully realized character arc and being as developed as any of the male leads = good writing even if she doesn't talk to another girl...

And I've also had the remark about my writing not passing the test, just not to my face. I searched my fanfic's name once, curious to see if anyone was discussing it outside of tumblr and AO3, and found a Tiktok complaining about it not passing the Bechdel Test. The top comment was "motherfucker YOU don't pass the test but we still watch your ass". I cackled and moved on, but neither the commenter, poster, nor I had any awareness this wasn't Feminist Media Critique 101 theory and was, in fact, a goof.

Right now there's a segment of fandom debating if Blue Eye Samurai is feminist since when Mizu and Akemi talk, they do bring up men, since, y'know. Women aren't considered people with rights in their era in Japan and thus it's something they mention instead of only talking about being cool girlboss badasses who never bring up gender. If something doesn't pass the Bechdel Test, a smug segment of the internet high-fives itself and congratulates one another on being More Feminist Than Thou.

They then get really angry if you disagree, even though by this metric, Sleeping Beauty (the original animated one, where Aurora has only 16 lines of dialogue) is more feminist than Blue Eye Samurai.

*DYING*

Okay, so, nonnie....

Dykes to Watch Out For (1983-2008) was a long-running comic and major piece of lesbian media. I grew up buying compiled volumes at the bookstore. To be honest, that kind of 90s-ish lesbian culture isn't really my scene despite me being bi, but it was very nice to have this slice of life-y somewhat realistic, occasionally somewhat parody, look at the queer communities around me. It's up there with Tales of the City for me in terms of being a window into a particular culture and time and place.

If anybody is interested in queer history, in addition to looking up factual info, I think a read of the complete Dykes would give a really good overview of how people were thinking about things and what issues came up a lot. You'll see things like Barnes & Noble increasingly putting feminist bookstores out of business in the 90s, attitudes towards porn in lesbian circles—all kinds of cultural issues of the day.

I drifted away as I got later in my teens and found more genre fiction I cared about, but at one point, this comic was a very welcome antidote to the glurgey coming out stories that made up a lot of the more realistic media.

Anyway, here's the comic itself, reproduced in its entirety because I think it's important to actually understand the context.

This is from 1985, so the era of Rambo, Conan, and Death Wish, each of which you can see being made fun of here. It's based on Bechdel's friend Liz Wallace's actual rule for seeing movies.

That's it. That's the origin of this whole stupid test.

"LOL, fuck 80s action movies". That's it. That's the joke.

The fact that blockbusters still routinely fail to pass in the 2020s is shameful, but that was never the point of the strip.

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mary-moongood · 1 month ago

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Transformers One: bad ending AU

This idea for a gay and angsty AU came to me during the ride home after Transformers One and today, a whole month after I saw it, I finally get to share it with the internets

WARNING: HEAVY SPOILERS FOR TRANSFORMERS ONE

Everyone who has seen the movie already knows what happened in the climax: D16 accidentally shoots Orion after he stands between him and Sentinel, his original target, and D lets Orion fall to his death.

But in this universe Megatron sticks to his good side one last time as he keeps Orion’s dying body from falling into the abyss. He pulls him back up and embraces him, apologizing over and over for having shot him and trying to understand why he didn’t let him kill Sentinel. Before Orion can say anything though, his body turns gray and he goes limp. That’s when Megatron falls to the dark side. He blames Sentinel for Orion’s death and as his eyes finally turn red, he rushes to the false prime to kill him. As Megatron rips Sentinel apart, he flashes back to all those moments he had shared with Orion in the past: working together in the mines, talking and joking with each other and even D yearning to ask Orion to become his mate and eventually his conjunx… But now that would never be possible.

Megatron drops Sentinel’s remains and orders his supporters to destroy Iacon. Elita and Bee try to stop Megatron, but he overwhelms them both and rips Bee’s voice box out so they are forced to retreat with the miners. Megatron rises to power above the remains of what once was the Cybertronian capital with the high guard serving as his enforcers to keep order and wreck any attempt of uprising. Megatron also had Shockwave repair Orion’s body as much as he could, hoping to someday find a way to revive him. Meanwhile Elita and Bee become the leaders of a resistance of cogless miners (and some cogged citizens) to overthrow Megatron and reinstate peace...

------------------------------

That would be the beggining of a very familiar civil war that would devastate Iacon and beyond. Eventually Bee and Elita would retireve Orion's body and would somehow bring him back as Optimus Prime (not sure how though so don't try to ask)

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compressedrage · 3 months ago

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Okay so imagine you're Victim. You've escaped your Creator, after a strange dizzying cycle of being created and then dying.

Again and Again and Again–

You find yourself in a bright new world. Full of possibilities and life, away from the hand of your Creator. But you can't enjoy it. Everything you see, everything you touch is tainted by the bitterness simmering in your chest.

Your Creator would have kept this from you. All of this, only to shove you back in a box and kill you. Again and again and again–

You get a job. It starts small; then you rise rapidly. Your company is successful, you're making profits and the people like you. At least, they think they like you.

But you can't enjoy it. You built this company, this empire for a reason. Your Creator thought He could control stick figures, easily keep them under his thumb. Toy with them. Well, this population of stick figures– your customers– are safer now. Because of you and your technology.

Or so you think.

You hear rumors of them. The twin terrorists, burning through websites and leaving nothing but scattered code behind. Refugees flock to the city, and doubt and fear spread like wildfires. It's a virus. You can use that.

The people are terrified, but you offer protection. Safety, guaranteed. You think that will be the end of it; the authorities will catch the hooligans and you will be able to return to your true work.

That is, until you see them yourself.

Until you realize who they are.

A camera caught footage of them far outside the city and something buried deep inside of you shifts. You know who these stick figures are, who look just like you. Who wield such god-like power, who flaunt it at every turn–

It is no longer bitterness simmering in your chest. It is hate, and it burns.

Your Creator didn't stop, didn't learn His lesson, didn't care at all. He got rid of you, then moved on. And He made his next creations More. They didn't deserve His blessings, you had never even done anything–

You will continue your mission, and this time you will not stop. Your company thrives, but you barely pay any attention to it anymore. You pour yourself into research; of codes so complicated they make your head spin, of methods of containment, of weapons. You hire on an entire new department: separate from your original company. You're doing bigger things now. Greater things.

The posters go up. You have faith; you have eyes everywhere now. Nowhere on the Internet is hidden.

Or so you think.

Somehow, somewhere– there is another. It hadn't just been the two terrorists at the bay that day. There is another and he is even more powerful than the other two. Than you.

And he doesn't even know.

You hate him.

You lock him down and leave your prisoners. You are on a path toward everything you ever wanted. Your victory is in reach.

And you can't even enjoy it.

#alan becker #animator vs animation #rage's ramblings about sticks #can you tell im losing my mind #disclaimer: this isn't exactly how I think Victim's timeline went #I just had to get it out #I also think Victim saw the events of Showdown but I don't know how well I got that across #anyway #*shakes Victim like a soda bottle*

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bee-nutauthor · 9 months ago

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Dimitrescu Sisters If they were Content Creators Headcanon (for fun)

Bela Dimitrescu

-The most wholesome, mom-esque content ever

-Will give you good life advice, whether it be shopping tips on how to get more groceries for less, or tips on how to manage your finances

-Makes cooking videos, sewing videos, make up videos, candle making videos, nail painting vidoes- basically anything to do with crafts and she's probably done it

-Speaks in a calm tone, has mellow music in the background

-Uses very calm colors in her videos, meaning her shirts are in cool tones of blues, grays, whites, and blacks.

-Her backdrop is a clean and organized space- a light wood bookshelf, plain walls, some minimalist flower vases, and a diffuser

-Is very organized with her schedule. Her videos are always up at the same time and day, and she follows a rotating schedule of what topics she will make videos for

-Controversies? None, unless you count the time she roasted a company who wanted her to do a paid promo for actually being toxic and causing them to shut down

-She is affectionately called 'Internet Mom'

-She does not understand the 'sorry, mommy' jokes and does not wish to

-Does not collab with other content creators, which lead to a conspiracy theory whether she actually existed in real life or was a robot

-Is sponsored mostly by clothing brands

Cassandra Dimitrescu

-She is a storytime channel, telling the most outlandish stories ever

-And they're all true. Her life is just like that

-She travels a lot for work so often she'll film travel vlogs or behind the scene vlogs

-Collabs all the time with other content creators

-Always has famous people on her channel

-Does Q and A's

-Her video uploading schedule is not super consistent due to her traveling a lot, and sometimes she'll post several videos in a row and then there will be nothing for a long time

-She has cycled through 5 public relationships within the first three months of her channel

-Has released music videos on her channel and is planning on releasing a full album. She always puts a lot of effort into her sets and costume design. Her singing is amazing as she's classically trained and can do opera too

-Has starred in other content creator's mini series on youtube and always draws the most views in

-Outfits are always changing depending on if she's traveling or making music videos

-Has made a few comedy skits here and there

-Controversies? There is a lot of drama circling around her and who she's hooking up with or who she'll go for next. A few people tried to call out her melodramatic behavior and instead of making an apology video Cassandra winked at the camera, sent the viewers a kiss and said "you know you love me like this," and ended the video like that.

-She was right. Her views only skyrocketed after this

-Gets many sponsorships, but donates the money from them to art or dance studios

Daniela Dimitrescu

-A streamer, she streams several hours a day in a row

-She does games mostly, with the occasional video filming her attempt to cook some horrific dish she found on the internet such as the toducken

-Has posted a few videos of herself doing tricks on her skateboard

-Has posted a few videos of her work out routines. Those have millions of views for reasons relating to her crop top and abs

-Has a set up with RGB lights in the back, and a mini fridge full of energy drinks

-Has the latest technology to play games on, but wears the same outfit almost always to her streams: a black tank top, a black hoodie with neon green writing on it, and a pair of headphones with cat ears on top

-Has dyed her hair many times but commonly sticks with her red hair, shaved on one side

-Has tattoos of her favorite video game characters on her arms and legs

-Will stream with other players and has done a handful of collabs but prefers playing single player games

-Rarely sleeps and has done several 24 hour streams for charity

-Controversies? She was accused of cheating when doing a speedrun but it was only the haters claiming she couldn't play

-Sponsored by raid shadow legends and other game companies

#resident evil #resident evil village #resident lover #daniela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #the dimitrescu's as influencers

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nobigsecrets · 5 months ago

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H50 Fic Recs

Light At The End Of The Tunnel by bluflamingo Rating: T, Words: 3,191 The first time Catherine meets Steve, he's a voice on the other end of the radio, asking for her help.

Where lies the final harbor? by @missslothy Rating: M, Words: 48,643 Steve and Danny had finally admitted their feelings for each other just three days before the events of Season 10 Episode 7. Can their new relationship survive the fallout from what happened in Mexico and Doris's death? (Coda to 10x07)

Agitated States of Amazement by @emphasisonthehomo Rating: T, Words: 5,823 He meets Stef when he’s like 18, on a sub-reddit that doesn’t exist anymore. She’s kind of a huge fucking cunt. Danny’s kind of in love with her. OR: Sometimes the people you meet on the internet stick with you.

I’m dumb she’s a lesbian (I thought I had found the one) by @five-wow Rating: G, Words: 1,299 Danny waves his coffee around a little more. The lid is the only thing that prevents them from having to dig up a mop. “What’d I do? All I did is tell her you’re handsome and single and free Friday night.” “You were setting us up,” Quinn summarizes. Or: Just another morning in the life of Steve McGarrett, whose best friend is deeply concerned with getting him a date.

COMPETITIVE BY NATURE by alizarin_nyc Rating: E, Words: 2,701 "Oh come on, that isn’t gay," Steve says. "I was in high school. You’re gay, you’re totally gayer than me. Your pants are tight across the ass!” Steve has his little protesty face on and it’s exactly like his earnest, don’t-worry-we’ll-catch-your-husband’s-killer face. It is so, so gay.

Does This Marriage Come With Any Perks? by @pterawaters Rating: T, Words: 3,369 After Danny suffers a life-threatening injury, he finds himself in Steve’s care. He doesn’t remember much about what happened after getting shot, but he’s pretty sure signing a marriage certificate wasn’t something he’d forget.

Sometimes You Just Need a Decoder Ring by kho Rating: T, Words: 2,849 Danny follows Steve into the kitchen and sticks the beers in the fridge. “Actually I’m of the mind that it takes two to tango so I don’t know who started and who fueled but you’re both in this fight, so I’m just trying to figure out how to diffuse this situation so I don’t wind up as collateral damage.” (Mary & Steve centric)

You Move Me by dogeared Rating: M, Words: 486 Yoga, and waffles, and kisses.

Pick up line by kaige68 Rating: T, Words: 100 Prompt from kapuahi, Hawaii Five-0, McDanno, Steve loses a bet with his Navy mates and has to dress in drag Bonus points if someone (Danny) tries to chat up Lady!Steve

Careful, or you'll end up in my novel by kaige68 Rating: M, Words: 2,200 Former Newark police detective, now mystery, writer Danny Williams follows his daughter to Hawaii, and meets his biggest fan.

I Want A Man With A Slow Hand by thefourofswords Rating: E, Words: 6,597 “Can I ask you a question?” he asked on their way to a crime scene, because no time like the present, and Danny believed in ripping off band-aids. “Why not?” Steve replied, eyes on the road. “You’re gonna even if I say no.” “What do you like in bed?” Or: Danny undertakes a very important mission to get Steve laid. For his health. Ahem.

As You Wish by Brumeier Rating: M, Words: 4,077 When Steve comes back to Hawaii to find the man who killed his father he finds much more when he stumbles across a mysterious bottle on the beach.

Just Enough Hope by aries_taurus Rating: T, Words: 2,594 He hopes for a lot of things: that he didn’t make a mistake taking on this taskforce, that the ache he’s feeling in his soul will go away, that he can sleep at night without seeing his best friend being ripped to shreds by bullets, without remembering he left him behind for nothing, or hear a gunshot killing his father over a bad sat connection and he just hopes he wakes up one day without a scream dying in his throat.

All Hearts Come Home For Christmas by @cowandcalf Rating: E, Words: 12,198 Steve debates for four days if he should eat this year's Christmas dinner in the charity Christmas tent organized for the veterans by HPD.

Built For Tough Battles by thefourofswords Rating: E, Words: 20,770 Adam nudges his shoulder, “He’ll find his way back, you know.” Danny blows out a breath. “I dunno anymore about that. The stuff he’s gone through in the last year...” “He’s had a lot go very wrong, very quickly,” Adam says. “I’m sure it feels like he’s slowly been losing parts of his family and when you reach a certain point, loss aversion takes over. It can make you do crazy things…” Or: Danny waits for Steve to be ready to come back.

Friends don't let friends... by kaige68 Rating: E, Words: 2,008 Steve finds a desolate Adam in a bar. (Steve/Adam)

Foreplay by @stellarmeadow Rating: M, Words: 4,305 When sparring isn't just sparring.

#i've been collecting these since last september #might as well post them now #happy reading :)#h50 #steve mcgarrett #danny williams #mcdanno #fanfic #fic rec #rec list

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morganbritton132 · 2 years ago

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I saw this scrolling the social media today and I just needed you to know. My fictional true love Joan the disservice cat definitely needs one.

First, thank you for this.

When I got the notification that you sent me an ask, I was not expecting four of the best images on the internet. I love these cats in their little outfits and I agree, Joan needs this.

I can picture Eddie scrolling through Pinterest, seeing little heavy metal cat outfits, and immediately taking out his credit card despite the fact that Joan has never once enjoyed him putting her in an outfit. In fact, she actively acts like she’s dying every time he does.

So, she never wears them, but…

Joan has grown up observing Ozzy and Ozzy takes care of Steve. So the natural conclusion is that Steve is Baby and he must be looked after.

Joan also has no concept of federal holidays. She just knows that there are days that Steve is not there and days that he is. If he is home on a day he’s not supposed to be than that’s bad. So, he should not be putting on his running shoes.

Since Ozzy is doing nothing to stop him, Joan insist on stepping in.

Steve nudges her out of the way as he slips his foot into his shoe, “Joan, move. You’re going to get stepped on.”

But Joan does not move because she is helping. Steve does not seem deterred so Joan insists on coming with him and if she has to wear a silly little outfit and get put in a torture device (AKA the cat stroller) than so be it.

Steve lets out a little annoyed huff and calls out, “Babe, I’m taking the cat!”

So picture it: Steve in pastel joggers since it’s chilly outside and an old but well maintained Hawkins High Swim Team t-shirt that’s tight across his shoulders. He’s got his pristine white dad shoes and his socks pulled up. Ozzy’s running beside him as he pushes the stroller, and then he’s stopped by a woman a couple blocks over who wants to see the baby.

The baby is, of course, Joan with her little fangs sticking out and her shirt that says Cannibal Corpse.

#You know those posts about dog owners vs cat owners where the dog owner will give you this big description of their pet and cat owners are #like ‘this Linda she’s orange’#that’s Ozzy and Joan about Steve and Eddie #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson #Ozzy the service dog #Joan the disservice cat

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lalunanymph · 1 year ago

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𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐆𝐎

↳ a foul-mouthed, aggressive, pro-soccer player on the verge of being disqualified from the biggest game of his life, is tossed into a fake relationship with a spoiled heiress to salvage their bad public reputation. what exactly could go wrong?

𖨆♡𖨆 itoshi rin x fem!reader

cw. mentions of alcohol, angst, mentions of death, mentions of cheating, violence, blood, mentions of medication, arguments, shidou being a menace, language, internet bullying

masterlist | playlist

#5: VANISH

Milan was a beauty which deserved every single praise from travellers and magazines around the world.

Your little upclass boutique hotel overlooked the city centre, and the wind tugged on your sleeping shirt like a child demanding for attention. Sitting on the cool bench, you bundled your knees closer to your chest, stretching the well-worn Blue Lock jersey down your thighs as you sighed, lifting a cigarette to your lips.

If Rin were here, he would look on disapprovingly at this bad habit.

His name ignited a fissuring ache somewhere under your left rib where your tender heart still pulsed; your lips pursed around the cigarette, and you exhaled softly.

I need to forget about him.

Flickering your vintage metal lighter open, the tip of your white stick smouldered and you breathed in the first cloud of nicotine; expelling it out into the autumn air. Your favourite season was far prettier in a city as vibrant as this.

Below your feet, leaves turned orange, scattering down onto the grey pavement where boots and heels crushed them with a satisfying crunch. A flock of birds darted overhead in a V formation leaving you appreciative of the simple pleasures of such a beautiful morning.

Today, you had to visit your designers to make sure the changes on your line were reflected as per your last review yesterday.

You had worked till late last night, never mind the jet lag and your swollen eyes from crying on the plane left your face puffy and heart even more exhausted than when you sought refuge in the arms of another location.

Far away from Tokyo.

Far away from him.

You didn’t know why you bothered in the first place—Rin would not search for you. He had made it abundantly clear what he thought of you, and subsequently, how he wanted nothing to do with you.

Such childish fancies. You sighed, deciding to put Itoshi Rin out of your mind the moment you stub out your dying cigarette in the metal ashtray.

Your designers welcomed you warmly when you entered the atelier, and you smiled at them, glad that you had this little secret project to buoy you through such intense sadness.

Soon, you forgot about Rin’s harsh words. His radio silence for the whole three days when you lingered in Tokyo like an idiot, waiting for him—waiting for an apology which never came. If there was a cure for a broken heart, it would be laughter flitting in between tulle skirts, your sketches coming to life and good pasta for dinner.

However, once the darkness came, the empty cavity shaped like him in your chest started to throb again, rendering your earlier efforts useless.

Heartache was not linear, and neither was grief.

You were intimately knowledgeable of such a fact. Shifting through your wallet to find your mother’s picture, you sat outside the balcony again, inhaling deeply. Milan’s lights twinkled through your tears and you bubbled a sad laugh, trying to swallow around the lump in your throat and speak through your misery.

“I’m here, oka-san,” you managed to mumble, tracing the edge of the age-worn square with your thumb. “I wish you could see my first show.” Sighing, you cast your watery gaze towards the beautiful city beyond, hiccuping a sob. “I wish you were h-here, oka-san. I want to ask you so many questions. I’m so confused.”

All a girl wants is her mother when she’s heartbroken. And in this instance, you would’ve given the world to feel her embrace around you; to shield you from the hurt and tell you everything was going to be okay.

Sniffling, you pocketed her photo back into your wallet and decided to visit the bar down the street. It was barely filled with people, and looked like the perfect spot for you to chase your worries down a bottle of wine.

Thankfully, no one in Milan knew who you were; your reputation in Japan was left behind, and you were allowed to shed the heavy cloak of hypercritical fans so you could wallow in your sadness for the night. You ordered two glasses of red wine, sipping it slowly while the noises of the city disappeared behind you. In Milan, you felt safer to indulge in the intoxication you were often criticised for back in your country, and you did not pay any mind to the people around you.

If you did, you would’ve noticed his teal green eyes studying from across the room; the long under lashes casting shadows onto his chiselled cheekbones as he quietly drank from his glass of whiskey.

You would have anticipated his heavy footsteps, the easy way he settled into the empty bar stool next to you.

“Rough night?”

Snapping your attention back from the edge of staring off into space, you focused your gaze on a man who looked familiar, but you couldn’t pinpoint exactly where you had met him. Your sluggishness dissipated when you registered a pair of heartachingly indistinguishable teal eyes on a face more mature than the one you loved. His name was poised on the tip of your tongue, melting into your consciousness like precarious drops of rain.

Itoshi Sae, right in the flesh.

You gaped at him, and Sae smirked—all arrogance and ego dripping down the corners of his lips right to his muscular build. He was a few inches shorter than Rin, but something about his presence demanded an undeniable majesty; he walked like how he owned the field, judging from your quick snatches of Rin’s frequent gameplay studies regarding his brother.

Confident. Sure.

He captivated your attention the second he saw recognition flash through your eyes.

“Ah. So, you do know me.” He slunk slightly back in a casual show of masculine conviction, throwing a lazy hand up to order another glass of whiskey which the bartender quickly set down before him; like a King making demands of his court. Sae sipped on the amber liquid, his teal eyes never leaving your face. You shifted back straighter, clutching your purse in a tight grip.

“Itoshi Sae.” His name hummed in your mouth like something forbidden. “What’re you doing here?”

He tilted his head forward, whiskey-soaked lips carved into another smirk. “I have a game soon. Didn’t my dear little brother tell you it’s almost World Cup Season?”

As if on cue, your phone chimed with a Blue Lock update, and his eyes were quick to read off your dim screen.

Representing Japan, the Blue Lock 11 will make their first ferocious move in France. Catch us on JSN for more updates!

Sae’s carefully constructed expression was neutral, and he hummed. “It’s a little rude of me to not have extended my congratulations on dating my brother, but I hope it’s not too late.”

He was quick to catalogue the minute fall of your expression, the darkness misting over your eyes.

“Oh. Um. Thank you.”

You shifted in your seat, suddenly too aware of how short your dress was. You did not want to give Rin’s brother any idea of your vulnerable state; the walls around your heart firing up towards the sky, keeping your defences manning the perimeter for any signs of a breach from this callous, stone-faced man.

Sae tilted his head forward, and he didn’t have to be a therapist to know how inexplicably terrified you were of him.

“Rin’s poisoned your thoughts against me, hasn’t he?”

The sound of his little brother’s name uttered between the both of you, shocked him as much as it did for you.

A short laugh fell from your lips, and you shook your head. “I’m sorry, Sae-san. Rin never really mentioned you a lot back home. I was just taken aback because I didn’t expect you to be here.” Bowing your head forward slightly, you murmured, “I’m sorry for giving you the wrong impression.”

Sae clicked his tongue, and something in his teal eyes had gone hyperborean from your small admittance. Your frayed nerves were at its tether when he leaned forward—close enough for you to smell his clean cologne from his collar.

“Liar,” Sae murmured, flitting his eyes to your lips, his heavy lashes framing his eyes perfectly. It sent a stab of pain straight to your heart from how familiar those eyes were. “I know Rin told you to never say my name, didn’t he? You don’t have to play dumb, Y/N-chan. I’m your friend here.”

His expression did a 180, and he smirked again, leaning away to give you back your breathing space.

“Truly, I don’t know what you see in him,” Sae snorted and your furrowed brows gave him fuel to elaborate. “Rin. He’s such a sour little brat. I can’t believe you willingly dated him.”

The slight twitch of your lips, and the quickness in how you darted your eyes to the side, spoke volumes. Sae was close enough to unravel this mystery within his short time frame with you, and he was determined to find his brother’s weak spot; needing to understand if this girl in front of him was Rin’s Achilles heel.

His intentions were dirty and foul, but his coach was desperate for a quick win against Japan. Sae’s defection to the European superpower team would be seen as a betrayal for his home country, but no one could fault him. Japanese soccer was abysmal, and he would much rather sow his seeds on much verdant and fecund lands than the ones which he came from.

“He’s nice,” you mumbled defensively, picking up your wine glass by its delicate stem and taking one irritated sip.

Sae scoffed under his breath. The both of you knew it was a lie.

“I heard a rumour that the both of you were thrown into a fake relationship because of bad press.”

Your stunned silence did not need to be translated into words. Sae heard your confession loud and clear.

“Ah. That is sad. It must’ve been hard to be with Rin, huh. Let me guess—” Sae sat back, and like a master puppeteer, he pulled your strings tautly till you could not breathe; predicting every play of your relationship with Rin like he was reading from a script.

“He started getting closer to you, making you fall in love with him, and then when the going got tough, he lashed out, didn’t he? Told you that you were worthless and to get the hell away from him. Then, he didn’t come back home. He left you worried and all alone. He suffocated you with his silent treatment until you felt like escaping was the only route you could take, and now you’re here—heartbroken over a man who doesn’t give two shits.”

Sae watched intently as devastation imploded across your pretty features. Your lower lip wobbled uncontrollably, and you sniffled, turning your eyes back to your wine glass. Every fibre in your body was raging at you to run, but you remained rooted in one spot, unable to move. Caught in the headlights like a deer about to be run down by a freight truck.

His warm palm on your back made you flinch, but Sae did not intend to hurt you. He was slowly patting the tight spot between your shoulders, rubbing reassuring circles to loosen your stiff muscles. A master at pushing and pulling, leaving his victims torn both ways.

The wine left you slow and sluggish; your defences crumbling until your face met his sturdy chest and he was holding you while you sobbed softly.

Despite his callous manner, Sae was not entirely made of stone. He didn’t know exactly why, but he liked to think you were a lot like his brother.

Young and impressionable. Easily bending to his will.

“Do you want to come back to my hotel?” Sae asked in a low, even voice. Every pore of your touch-starved body craved for a touch which echoed Rin’s—as feeble and farfetched as it was. But, your rational mind took over and you shook your head.

“I think I need to go back home,” you murmured, and as much as Sae wanted to see how much he could push you, he conceded.

“At least let me walk you back to your hotel,” he offered sincerely. After a beat of hesitation, you nodded.

Sae helped you to your feet, letting you hold onto his arm as you tottered in your heels.

“How the hell do you women walk in those?” he asked in a withered tone. Your answer was a short laugh and a shake of your head.

“Black magic,” you mumbled, a shadow of your old self arising from the ashes. Sae rolled his eyes, and put his hand on yours to keep you steady.

“Did you know we’ve met before?”

You peeled your eyes from your swollen toes squished in your heels and fixed him with a questioning look. “Have we?”

“The Silver Strikers conference,” Sae murmured. “I was one of the keynote interviewees and you were in the box above with your father.”

You recalled a man of his build with light brown hair and gasped. “Oh my gosh. Yes, we have met.”

Sae chuckled when you smacked his arm lightly. “Why didn’t you lead up with that instead? You made me think you were flirting with me.”

His answer was a snort. “Even if I was, would you have reciprocated?” The ball was back in your court, and he waited for you to make a move. Predictions running rampant in his mind.

He never expected your answer.

“To be honest, I’m done with you Itoshi men,” you muttered candidly, oblivious to Sae’s growing amusement. “If Rin is anything to go by, you two need help. Serious help.”

You were half-joking, and Sae picked up on your teasing. He was about to retort something snarky when you stumbled and he murmured a low whoa, holding on tightly to your waist. He let you lean into his embrace, and you shakily held onto him, your head thumping back intermittently on his sturdy chest with every trembling step you took.

Any outsider would assume the both of you would be dating from how close you both were, but you suspected Sae was merely being nice.

In fact, he was overtly nice. A little too friendly.

Taking advantage of your sluggish movements, Sae looped your floppy arm around his neck and hoisted you into his solid embrace.

“Wh—whoa!” you gasped when the ground disappeared underneath your heels. A terrified giggle slipped past your gaping mouth, and you held onto him, yelping in fright from every jarring step he took.

“You’re such a lightweight,” the older Itoshi murmured, and you didn’t have to look into his expression to know he was rolling his eyes. A reaction you were intimately acquainted with as being extremely Rin-like.

“Wait—hey! Put me down!” This was the second time in your life an Itoshi brother was carrying you because you were too drunk to walk. The thought should’ve miffed you, but all it did was make you miss Rin even more.

You kept quiet when he effortlessly carried you towards the front of your hotel, and set you down with a soft grunt.

Somehow, you couldn't look into his eyes, and only when his fingers slid underneath your chin to hoist your face up to meet his teal eyes, did you find the courage to smile.

“T-Thank you, Sae-san for accompanying me back.” There was a beat of hesitation—a lingering sort of unrest where neither of you knew what else to say. You broke the tension first by bowing clumsily, missing his small smirk.

Sae tipped his head forward in acknowledgement, and turned on his heel. “I’ll see you around, Y/N-chan.”

You barely echoed his wish when his broad back disappeared down the corner into the night. Like a mirage, he had reappeared and disappeared in a total span of fifteen confusing minutes. Inwardly shrugging, you decided to let Sae’s uncanny presence bury itself in the back of your mind and took one wobbling step forward.

A few more days to go and you would be splashed on the front headlines of a tabloid for your debut fashion line. You wondered what the critics would say; how they would dissect your entire collection apart. The singular thought sent a stab of nausea through your churning stomach, and you tried to swallow down your trepidation.

It was too late to think of what-ifs. You had a future ahead of you to look forward to. You couldn’t let yourself be held back by naysayers and those who never wanted to see you grow.

The courage you kept under wraps for years while you pandered to everyone’s impression of a perfect, soccer heiress started to glow brightly; an unmistakable flare lighting the cavity of your soul.

A wayward seed was planted in the fertile hopes of your invigorated determination, and you took one more confident step forward, the sound of your heels on the pavement steady and sure—miniature applauses which spurred you on forward and out of your slump.

You would wade through whatever hell or high waters the future might throw at you, and you would do it all with a smile.

Despite every nerve in Rin’s body telling him not to react—not to scroll further down this rabbit hole of spiralling thoughts and painful incredulity—Rin continued to read the article.

There was a soundbite from Sae, and he realised this photo was taken a few days ago in Milan.

His heart leapt from his ribcage to collide painfully against the wad of spit he swallowed, the interview text burned into his retinas, shadowing behind his closed lids.

When asked about his relationship with you, Sae’s soundbite didn’t give much information. His reps reassured that the midfielder “saw her as a friend”’ and was much more, “interested in the playoffs than with his brother’s ex-girlfriend.”

His phone rang and Ego’s name flashed on screen. Rin denied the call and sank back into the sofa, scrubbing a hand down his face.

What the actual fuck.

His phone beeped again, and despite the early hours—the darkness blanketing the city and his stinging eyes—he read every article that Nagi and Reo sent into the group chat.

His family group was in chaos, too, judging from a whiny cousin on his mother’s side who offered sympathy in a thinly-veiled attempt to mock him whenever the opportunity arose. He shut them out; he shut everyone out and switched off his phone, tossing it harshly onto the glass coffee table where the device clattered noisily right towards the edge.

Rin closed his eyes, and breathed deeply. His mind was boiled down to a stew of cacophonous thoughts, nothing standing out corporeally to get him to focus on a singular strand. Nothing beyond your face, happily smiling at his brother. Ropes of his muscles tenderly holding your smaller frame close to his chest.

The look of contentment on both your faces.

Saw her as a friend.

Rin shot up to his feet, seething angrily at Sae’s stupidity. Just a friend? A woman like you deserved more than that. You deserved a gentle love which did not discard you in the limelight and left you reeling in ambiguity. You deserved to be loved out loud, right towards the heavens and on top of someone’s lungs.

You deserved to be loved by him.

Rin felt his breath and common sense physically knock out his body.

The calendar imprinted in his mind told him it was 3 days till his match in France, and he had to leave for the airport tomorrow to make it to the World Cup Village. Ego had scheduled them for a pre-interview with BBC, and they could not miss such a momentous occasion to bring more attention to Japan’s soccer scene. That shitty four-eyes could not bear having his number one striker gone from the mix.

As one of the only players who could speak fluent English, Rin was needed to translate interview questions for his teammates, a task he found little pleasure in. However, in this instance, he couldn’t be bothered in the least. Isagi can handle it. Rin brusquely picked up his things, already booking a one-way business trip to Milan. That motherfucker can string an English sentence together—let him play nice with the press.

Isagi would understand; he would forgive him for ditching the team just this once. Granted they haven’t spoken since Rin broke his nose during practice, but Yoichi was a mild guy in the face of animosities.

Rin would make sure to hand him a few of his passes on the field to make up for his abysmal behaviour.

But, first, he had a flight to catch and a woman to win back.

The pounding headache from the seventh declined call was starting to annoy you to no end.

Your publicist’s number flashed on screen again, and this time, you didn’t bother to press the huge red button on screen, letting it go to voicemail. Your open laptop on the table scrolled down on its own as more alerts hit the SNS pages; tweets, Instagram tags and emails pinging with your name in the Google Alert tab making your head hurt.

The backlash did not end there after your 2-day old exposed “relationship” with the elder Itoshi brother.

Jealous girls of every age were sending you death threats on your profile, and one of them even drew your face in the middle of a summoning circle and crossed your eyes out with red paint.

Criticism was nothing new to you, but this was far too much. The chimes were getting on your nerves and you felt nauseous from how you had once again fucked up your public image.

Maybe it would be better if you retreated from the spotlight. You never had any intention of being famous. Your father had decided you were the face of the Silver Strikers one day and pushed you to become his organisation’s spokesperson when you much preferred focusing on fashion.

Fame was secondary to your peace of mind, and with that thought, you closed every tab on your laptop and sank back into the luxurious leather couch, rubbing your temples. Soft lighting diffused across the atelier, a sense of peace which did not touch your soul floated in the air like dust motes, spinning and twisting like demented ballerinas.

You sighed, and Damara, one of your Italian designers who worked closely with you to conceptualise the theme of this collection, came to check on you. “Miss Y/N? Is everything alright.”

You eyed the pretty, light-haired woman with a tired smile. “I’m fine. Just some rumours going around which I prefer not to engage in.”

“Ah.” Damara shifted from one foot to another, unexpectedly candid. “Is this about those two brothers you are involved with?”

Word does travel fast. You hadn’t expected to make it this quickly over foreign waters.

You decided to come clean and nod, too tired to hide behind any pretences. “Yes.” Tossing your phone onto the couch, you sighed again. “I used to date the younger one, but we broke up and didn’t tell our fans. So, when they saw me out with his older brother, they jumped to conclusions.” A wry smile played in the corners of your lips. “And now, I am a lightning rod for slut-shaming across Japan and even here.”

Damara winced at the defeatedness in your tone. “Don’t worry, Miss Y/N. We all know the truth here. You are a nice person and would never try to intentionally hurt your loved ones.”

“I appreciate the confidence,” you murmured and stood up, stuffing your hands into your hoodie pockets, going back to business. “Please make sure the models have their second fitting. I want them to outshine the Pinacoteca di Brera.”

She nodded. “Of course, Miss Y/N. We will make the necessary checks and arrangements.”

Once it was sorted out, you trailed towards a nearby cafe, sitting down outside the al-fresco dining spot to nurse a cup of espresso. You barely had any sleep last night, nervous for the show later.

Outside in the bright sun, the tight knot in your chest loosened momentarily. No one in this tiny cafe was giving you a second glance, and for a moment, you were grateful for every shred of anonymity Milan offered you. This bright, pulsing city big enough to hide a woman from her country’s eyes was little like a mother’s arms holding you close, shielding you away from the world with gentle coos and caresses.

You appreciated the verve of such a serendipitous moment, and tilted your head back, exhaling slowly.

“Y/N.”

The peace you felt in your soul shattered the moment you recognised his voice.

Peeling your eyes wide open, you hastily set your coffee cup back onto the marble table, gaping at the sight of your pretend lover’s brooding, downcasted expression, half-hidden behind his dark green bangs. Dark circles similar to yours shaded under his murky teal eyes. You wondered if the sleep deprivation had taken over and made you hallucinate his presence.

Rin approached you with his hands in his pockets, unaware of the storm he set off in your soul from the sight of his tall silhouette carving through the perfect sunshine of this unperturbed day. He was blissfully oblivious to how your soul screamed to run towards him, but your body stayed frozen, remembering his harsh words; his terrifying anger that led you to this country in the first place.

Your shoulders tightened towards your ears when he hovered close to you; near enough to touch, but far enough to keep you comfortable. A myriad of emotions fired off behind his muddled, bloodshot irises: fear, worry, hesitation, regret. Since when in this lifetime were you adept at reading Itoshi Rin’s reactions?

It felt like you were going against a sacred creed. Like you were an anomaly within the laws of the universe who was not supposed to uncover such clandestine information.

“How… how are you?” His earnesty was the second thing to render you mute. You blinked one too many times, as if trying to get rid of a spot of gunk stuck to your lashes. The silence stretched on, and you weren’t sure what to say.

Perhaps, if you had half a mind, you would ask him what he was doing here. Or, why did he come to see you when he had everywhere else in the world he could go.

Why would he disturb your grieving process by coming back to life when you were resolutely trying to bury him within the sterile soil of your stained memories?

Realising he was waiting for a response, you cleared your throat and slowly stood up. Rin was forced to take a step back from your sudden proximity, and another when your tight smile swam in his vision.

“I’m fine.” You didn’t ask him the same question, needing to leave before the irrational lump in your throat would threaten to make the sting in your eyes overflow. “I have somewhere to go. It’s nice to see a familiar face in Milan.” Please leave me alone.

You bowed to him even if you weren’t supposed to, and turned on your heel to walk away.

“Hey—” His touch on your wrist gave you a semblance of what it would be like to suffer from a heart attack; throwing off your composure for a split second before you recovered it and tugged your hand away from him.

This time, the tightness around your mouth was exacerbated, like a lioness holding back a snarl in anticipation of striking a doltish prey. “It is nice to see you, Rin,” your voice coiled around the cadence of his name. “But, I am late.”

Those teal eyes swam with rueful trepidation from your sudden refrain of his touch and presence. “Y/N, I wanted to—”

“Please.”

Rin was quietly startled to find tears glistening in your eyes. He reflexively took one step back, lips clamping tightly shut. What a sham of a game you two were playing—words unsaid and charades of repressed love shaded in between stark pockets of silence and the fear of being vulnerable.

You didn’t want to play this game anymore.

“Don’t do this to me. Not now.”

Your mumble set off his righteous anger, and he was about to call your name again, this time more forcefully to get you talking to him, when another presence joined the fray.

“I think Y/N made it clear she’s not interested in a reconciliation.”

A voice materialised straight from his worst nightmares and hopeful dreams. Sae strolled down the pavement, tanned skin made warmer from his white dress shirt and thin silver chain gleaming from his clavicle. The sight of his older brother shocked Rin to an inert silence. He watched, wide eyed, as Sae walked up to you and leaned in close, the lines of his body language imprinted with intimacy.

“Go,” Sae murmured. “I’ll handle him.”

You didn’t know where to look or what to say. Around you, the cafe patrons sensed the tense atmosphere, and despite the language barrier, your teary eyes and the stiffness in both brother’s shoulders spoke of an impending altercation. The waiter who served you coffee hovered waveringly by your table, unsure if he had a right to butt in this spat.

Bowing your head forward, you started to walk away, oblivious to Rin’s devastated stare on the small of your back, or Sae’s cool, cruel gaze narrowing at the sight of his sibling.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Fucking asshole piece of shit vomit brother. Rin’s glare turned hyperborean, and he cocked a brow right at the older man. Discarding the natural order of birth and hierarchy of respect, Rin chuckled sardonically right in his brother’s face.

“You always did want whatever I had.” Something about Rin’s conviction and his steely tone took Sae completely by surprise.

“You wanted my luck. My skill. You wanted to crush me and mould me into some kind of monster like you. Now, you want the person I love. You’re always going around thinking you’re some fucking god when we all know—everyone knows—how much better I am than you are.”

Pain exploded right in his temple, and Rin staggered back, hands flying to his face. Sae did not stop there. He slammed his entire fist into Rin’s stomach, and he went sprawling onto the floor, taking his older brother down with him. The scuffle roused a spectacle from the other patrons; some screamed, others cursed, and the sane ones called for the police.

Rin had never wrestled hand to hand with Sae, but years of his pent-up anger and resentment flowed forward, changing his headspace into complete red. He snarled, slamming his fist into Sae’s jaw, and hearing something pop with satisfaction.

“... stop—Rin! Sae! Stop!”

Sae snapped his head back, teal eyes wild with fury and clamped both hands around his little brother’s neck. Ready to suffocate him to death.

You wrenched the older Itoshi off his brother with the help of the pale-faced waiter. Rin struggled to his knees, his acid-wash dark jeans speckled with white dust from the concrete pavement, and he bared his teeth, about to lunge at Sae again when your face appeared in his line of vision; blocking Sae’s ugly glare with your owlishly wide, terrified gaze.

“... stop… come on…” Your hands were on his cheeks, coaxing him to look at you instead of his brother. Through some miracle, the tension coiling like a snake which kept his figure locked in attack mode loosened, and he let you pull him to his feet.

Let you lead him out of the fray, only stopping to turn back and make sure Sae was okay. Shidou’s voice emerged from the din, deep and fraught with worry for his older brother’s face. Fucking annoying bug-like freak. The bastard he called his sibling would live; the most he would get was a busted lip.

Rin’s right eye started to throb, and if it weren’t for your arms around his torso, he would’ve doubled back in the pretence to ask for some ice only to throttle Sae again. But because he was finally held by you, he didn’t want to lose out on this blissful opportunity, keeping quiet when you brought him back to your hotel room, all tense nerves and furrowed brows which he silently found adorable.

You sat him down on the velvet couch and rushed to your mini bar, pulling out some ice. Rin hated to admit how the familiar weight of your body settling next to his made his heart start to swoon. Or, how your touch was delicate despite your hand shaking with restrained anger, dabbing at his eye which would swell and blacken in a few hours.

“Idiot.”

Rin snapped out of his thoughts and noticed your deepening frown. The courage he carried all the way from Tokyo with him to this foreign city withered under your blithe look, and he suddenly could not find his voice when you started to tersely speak.

“Our reputation is going to go to shit because of your temper,” you scorned gruffly. “Why did you even come here?”

To the uninitiated, Itoshi Rin’s glare would be terrifying, but you were familiar with his souring moods, and fixed him with a matching grimace.

He mumbled something under his breath which vaguely sounded like I miss you, and you wished you hadn’t heard it. You wished he could unsay it so your stupid little hopes did not start to stir. But, you did, and your heart soared even as you desperately tried to pull it back down to reality.

This cannot go on. Rin was toxic and you had to cut him off less you lose a part of yourself to his blasé and callous nature. You had already been burned once, and you didn’t want to goad tragedy for a second time.

When he would not repeat what he had said, your hopes diminished, one flicker of light at a time until your chest was left darkened and hollow. The hand holding the ice pack to his face waned, and you set it down on the couch in between both your bodies; the space between was enough to remind you of two separated continents when in reality, only a few inches remained for your pinkies to touch.

Between that space and silence, you let every unsaid word die in the back of your throat, and sighed, standing up.

Without looking at him, you shuffled back to your ensuite room and fished for some painkillers in your handbag. No other words fell from your lips when you returned, pressing the aluminium strip into his hand and gesturing to the door.

“I did what I could for your eye, but I think you need to go to the doctor.”

Rin was staring at you from his perch on the sofa, expression agape and struggling to sift through the thoughts in his mind. He opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. Words eluded him, and even if he had spilled his entire heart out to you, would you have cared? Would you have picked up the shattered pieces and tried in vain to glue it back? He was a selfish bastard—he knew that. But, he wished you would. He wished you could’ve been the one to save him when he didn’t even know what he needed saving from.

He slowly stood to his full height, towering over you with solemn teal eyes glimmering slightly in the light and a parted mouth as if he wished to caress you with his words. But, the truth was apparent from your averted eyes and crumpled figure like you were trying to hide within yourself.

Any touch from him would be unwelcomed, and he hopelessly wished he was a silver tongue like Sae or had a grit of steel like Isagi.

Maybe he would’ve salvaged this relationship if he could’ve just talked to you.

Maybe he wouldn’t walk out of your space for the last time or watch your balcony door from a safe distance away in a nearby park, turning the strip of painkillers in his hand like they were prayer beads which would conjure your mercy and reconciliation onto him.

Maybe his feet wouldn’t take him down the street, past the bent oak tree and towards another park where he bumped into a nasty face from his past.

“Aw, it’s tiny Rin. Lost your girlfriend, huh, Romeo?” Shidou’s pale red eyes glinted tauntingly. He almost crushed the medicine in his hand, forcing himself to loosen his grip and coolly gaze at the antennaed freak.

“Fuck off.”

“Ouch.”

Shidou pretended to wince and kiss his teeth. “Didn’t nii-chan teach you to be nicer to people, hmm?”

Rin swore that if it weren’t for the pulsing migraine on the right side of his temple, he would’ve taken a swing at the blonde freak. He was almost about to, but another voice halted his impulses.

“Rin.”

Sae was cooling off on a bench, holding a packet of ice to his jaw. His teal eyes, so much like his, bore right into his skull.

Rin didn’t know what compelled him to open his mouth, or for those words to tumble freely from his loosened lips. He liked to think it was grief which compromised his unwavering pride for a split second. Or, the guilt for what he did and said to his brother when he exhaled—

“Teach me how to win her back.”

— feedback, rbs and support and fully appreciated !!

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