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buck-star · 3 days ago

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Marshmallow lover | B.B & S.R

>> Bucky comes home from a mission, flashbacks are brought back. But luckily you know what Bucky needs to clam down. Not only you and Steve but also hot chocolate. <<

Pairing: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Girlfriend!Reader

Wordcount: 2.852 Words

Warnings: poly-relationship, m/m/f, established relationship, anxiety/panic, mention of punching), nicknames (babydoll, princess, majesty), fluff

Authors Note: Dedicated to @mercurial-chuckles. Cause you asked for Stucky, hehe. I had another idea but I just haven’t had enough motivation or ideas to write it. So I hope you like that one anyway.

Masterlist | Stucky x Reader Masterlist

It was one of these early winter days, where the weather wasn't too cold but you could already feel the breeze the winter was bringing with itself. The air was cool; your hands would have been ice blocks already, but luckily your boyfriend was holding one of them, and the other has been stuck in your pocket since the two of you left the house.

Actually, the two of you thought about staying home until Bucky came home — from the mission — in the evening. But when Bucky told you that he wouldn't be home before the late evening, Steve decided to force you in a loving way to go shopping with him. He knew you loved decoration, so it was the best opportunity to make you leave the house and have some fun with him. Otherwise, you would have sat in the hallway, watching the front door until Bucky walked inside.

It happened once, and both of your men made sure that they would distract you if the other one was on a mission and came home late. Of course, they understood why you acted like that; it was weird to have one of you not in bed at night or missing at the table during meals. Even watching television was different if one of them was on a mission — which didn't happen often anymore.

But after the last time you refused to leave the spot in the hallway unless you had to use the bathroom, Steve took you shopping this time. And luckily, he managed to get your mind off of the fact that Bucky could be injured when he came home. Even though you seemed distracted, Steve felt a little restless; he knew you felt the same, but he just hoped the decoration was distracting enough for you. Little did he know that you hoped the same for him, because deep down, you wanted to return home to make sure that Bucky was fine once he came home. But you tried to calm yourself; Bucky could call you once he was home, and he could take care of himself for a bit too. Plus, he sometimes even enjoyed having a moment just for himself after some missions.

When you had some items you wanted and were happy with, you and Steve made your way back home. It was just a short walk, but the later it got, the colder it was. You were shivering, and Steve's strong arm around your waist and his muscular body pressed against your side didn't help much to warm you up. “You know, my tooth...” you chuckled softly, moving them inside your shoes even though you didn't really feel them because of the cold anymore. “They are pretty cold. Guess they would fall off if I bumped them.”

“Then we get you home pretty fast. Don't want your toes to fall off. Bucky wouldn't like that either," Steve joked, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your hair. The two of you didn't talk much; there was no need. It was just the closeness to one another, the happiness and love that you felt whenever you were close to your boyfriends. So you just walked quietly along the streets with him, the sky slowly darkening, and you were glad you were almost home already.

After a few more minutes of walking, you finally walked into the warm house. It was almost a burning feeling on your skin, and you hissed softly. Steve had to shove you into the house, or else you would probably have walked backwards and out of the warmth back into the cold. He chuckled behind you, his calloused hands holding you by your waist before pushing you further into the hallway so he was able to close the door behind you.

“It's warm, isn't it? Maybe it’s because you're surrounded by such hot men.” Steve laughed softly, taking your jacket, before he took off his own jacket and shoes. You narrowed your eyes when you walked further into your house, looking around to find Bucky. You were sure he was home; his shoes were in the hallway where they belonged. But instead of your boyfriend coming immediately to greet the two of you, he was nowhere to be seen. Steve's voice interrupted your thoughts before you could even start to worry. “Maybe he's in the bedroom; he loves showers after a mission. While you look for him, I'm gonna make some hot chocolate for us.”

You nodded, pecking Steve's lips softly, before you turned away to walk to your shared bedroom. You didn't hear any noises, neither the shower nor Bucky looking through the wardrobe to find something comfortable to wear. You tried as best as you could to not worry about him. Bucky was sometimes pretty quiet, especially after missions. It was almost like he had to get used to home again to know he wasn't on a mission any longer.

The door of your bedroom was almost closed, but you saw a little part of the bed, the small bedside table, and a hint of something else — feet. Or it was more the toes that were curled, like they were the only part that was holding him grounded. You pushed the door open, looking to the side where Bucky was sitting. Your eyes widened as you saw him curled up into himself. His knees were pressed against his chest, his hands properly bruising his skin already, while his eyes were unfocused. Bucky was just staring into the air with a fearful expression on his handsome face.

You slowly walked closer to him, unsure what to do. Sweat was running down his forehead; even his hair was sweaty, and his clothes were stuck to him like a second skin — soaked in sweat. You're not sure how long he was sitting there like that; his teeth gritted, his jaw clenched, and you noticed his other muscles being more visible than usual through his clothes. Bucky was tense like he was still in a fight, and in a certain way he was — but instead of fighting against some people like Hydra, he was fighting his own battle with himself, with his fear in his mind.

“Bucky?” You asked softly, your voice just above a whisper when you kneeled down in front of him. There was still some distance, so he wasn't able to reach you if he would punch or kick. You have seen Steve in such situations with Bucky before; he had to take the one or another punch already — which caused Bucky to feel even more guilty after. But Steve always assured him that it's not as bad as it looks and that it would never change anything about the way he feels for Bucky or sees his boyfriend. And even though he never hurt you, Bucky was always sorry that you had to see him struggling so much with his nightmares and flashbacks from the past — you never judged him; you only loved him more when he couldn't love himself.

Bucky didn't react when you called him by his name. His fingers only tightened around his legs. You wanted to reach out, but you know you shouldn't. Bucky once had his hand around Steve's throat the moment his fingertips brushed along his lover's leg. And you knew Steve was stronger than you; he had struggled to get the other super soldier off of him, so you were pretty sure Bucky would crash you before you could even call for Steve. And both told you to never call Steve for help; they trust and love you, but they were too worried about you — and Bucky would never be okay with himself again if he would hurt you. And you understood it.

After another time calling him by his name but getting no answer, you sigh softly. Tears slowly formed in his eyes, rolling down his cheeks, and everything inside of you screamed to wipe them away, to pull him into you, but you were too afraid to scare him even more. So, you decided to make the only thing that came as an alternative solution to your mind — Steve.

From the time you walked into the bedroom to the moment you got up to walk to the door and shout for Steve, only a few minutes passed. But for you, it felt like at least twenty minutes, not being able to help Bucky and not wanting to leave his side while you tried to come up with something that could help without Steve's help.

You opened the door of your shared bedroom a bit more, looking out into the hallway. “Steve!” You shouted, earning immediately a soft ‘Yes.’ from him. He was still making the hot chocolate, but he was worried the moment you shouted his name instead of coming into the kitchen with Bucky. “I—I need you here. Or Bucky needs you... WE NEED YOU.”

Steve would have chuckled about your wording, but he knew that this wasn’t a situation to laugh about. He immediately turned off everything that could burn. His footsteps were loud and heavy when he walked to your shared bedroom. He noticed you looking out of the door, narrowing his eyes when he didn't see Bucky close to you. The big grump was actually holding you close, hugging, carrying, or kissing you the whole time. But right now, it was only you who waited for him to come to the bedroom.

"Where's Buck? Are you okay? Did he… What's wrong?” Steve asked, not even letting you a moment to answer. You brought your hand to his cheek, stroking it softly before giving him a slight, soft smile. He knew you didn't feel like you tried to show, but he knew you did it to calm the two of you down. It wouldn't help any of you to freak out or be more worried. After a moment, you take your hand away, taking a step to the side, and letting Steve walk into the room.

“He doesn't react when I talk to him. I-I don't know what I can do, but you... You trailed off, watching Steve's eyes widen as he saw your boyfriend looking like a lost puppy. You watched him walk over to Bucky, pulling you with him before Steve pushed you to sit down on the bed, and he kneeled down in front of Bucky. Steve was way closer than you were earlier, and you pulled your knees up, hugging them while you watched your boyfriends intensely. “You know what to do, right?”

Steve nodded, smiling softly. He turned his head back to Bucky, placing his hand on the brown-haired man's knees. Bucky hissed; his metal hand shot up to place a punch into Steve's pretty face, but he caught Bucky's hand. Steve held Bucky's hand tightly, trying to force his hand back down, and after a moment it even worked. You watched them with slightly parted lips; when did Steve find out how to catch Bucky's hand — especially his metal hand?

“Buck, it's me. It's Steve. You're home; do you hear me?” Steve asked, his voice soft. He ran his thick fingers slowly up and down the side of Bucky's thigh. He leaned a bit closer; his other hand was still holding Bucky's metal hand, and you wonder if Bucky was trying to punch him with his other hand but he didn't. “You're home, with me and our princess. You know, your babydoll.”

Bucky gasped softly, his eyes wider than before. His hands made grabbing motions, and Steve smiled softly, feeling Bucky being less tense than he was just a moment ago. Steve let go of his boyfriend's metal hand, using his hand to wipe away some sweat from Bucky's forehead.

“Hi, Buck,” he chuckled. Bucky slowly calmed down, noticing his surroundings. Bucky was slowly letting go of his legs, stretching them slowly between Steve's legs while his head fell forward against Steve's shoulder. “You're home; we are home. We got ya. Scared our princess a bit.”

“My babydoll?” Bucky's voice was hoarse and quiet, but Steve understood him anyway. He slowly nodded, caressing Bucky wet strands. Steve then turned his head to you, nodding at Bucky and mouthing that he just asked for you before he even asked anything else. “My babydoll, my Stevie.”

“We’re here, Buck. Do you want her to come closer as well, or do you need a moment?” Steve asked softly. He knew — you both knew — that Bucky was still pretty shaken up and that he could use some time to calm down or that he needed to feel the two of you, to smell the two of you, and to see the two of you to calm down completely.

Since the brown-haired man didn't really trust his voice, he only lifted his hand, making a grabby hand into the direction of the bed where you were still sitting. His other hand was interlaced with Steves, holding him close to Bucky. You slowly moved down from the bed; your knees were cracking softly when you stretched them out, and Steve laughed softly.

“Thought we were old, but you're cracking just like we do,” he told you, smirking before he moved a bit to the side to make space for you in front of Bucky. You rolled your eyes, moving closer to Bucky, but before you could have even said anything or moved another inch, he pulled you into his lap. You were straddling his thick thighs, your chest pressed against his.

Bucky hid his face in the crock of your neck, pulling Steve against his side so the two of you — the two people he loved the most, who meant everything to him — were as close as possible to him. After a moment of comfortable silence, he lifted his head. He was still sweaty, but his ocean blue eyes were brightened, and the sparkle you and Steve loved so much were visible again. A soft smile was tugging at Bucky's lips, causing you to smile as well. He leaned closer, pecking your lips before he did the same with Steve, sighing softly.

“Hi,” he chuckled, resting his head on your shoulder once again. “Missed you two. Do I smell hot chocolate?”

Both you and Steve laughed softly. When it came to hot chocolate, especially with marshmallows, you had to be faster than Bucky, or else he — accidentally — drank everything before you even reached the kitchen.

“Mhm, it’s probably cold again, but I can warm it up while you get a shower, sweaty,” Steve teased, using the nickname on purpose instead of ‘sweety’. Bucky rolled his eyes, growling softly, but he then nodded. Steve wasn't wrong; he felt like he had already taken a shower, but this time with his own sweat. “We got some marshmallows, and our princess got a lot of decorations.”

You nodded; your eyes lit up as you opened your mouth to start and explain what you got and why you got it. Bucky chuckled, loving your excitement. But he wanted you to show him and explain it while the three of you would be sitting wrapped up in a blanket on the couch with hot chocolate and marshmallows. So he pressed his lips onto yours before you could even start to tell him more about it.

“But I'm taking my babydoll to take a shower with me,” Bucky grumbled, and there he was again. Your Bucky, the love of your and Steve’s lives who never let go of you, who needed to be close to you, needed to kiss you and just show you all the love and affection. Of course, he did the same with Steve too, but he had another task, so it was you who was going to join him in the shower. “Plus, need her to wash my hair. Feels so much better when she massages the shampoo into my hair with her soft hands.”

“Of course you do,” Steve chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to Bucky and then your forehead before he got up to get the chocolate ready. Bucky opened his mouth, but Steve turned around, smirking at him. “Yeah, with as many marshmallows as you wish, my majesty.”

“Good boy.” Bucky grinned at Steve, who suddenly blushed and turned away. “Mission completed, making Stevie blush. Now, my next mission is to get you into the shower with me. Mhm, missed you. I love you so much, babydoll. And you too, Steve, I know you're standing in the hallway.”

“I love you too,” you say in unison with Steve, who then made his way down the hallway back to the kitchen. Bucky got up, keeping you in his arms before he walked with you to the bathroom, getting the two of you into the shower. It wasn't just cleaning him; it was a lot more Bucky being possessive and touch-starved, and you were his solution — you were gladly his way to get touches and be happy when it meant kisses, hugs, soft touches, and all the compliments you loved so much to hear from your boyfriends.

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Taglist: @pono-pura-vida @sergeantbarnessdoll @rogersbarber @kimmie113080 @sebastianstanisahotmf

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electrosuite · 2 days ago

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aight so i recently learned that i think only like 30% of afab people orgasm with penetrative sex alone, so i was wondering if you could do something where fem!y/n has her first penetrative orgasm with peter? thanks!

warnings: swearing, descriptive sex, oral sex

word count: 1.8k

masterlist

Your body pressed between Peter and his bedroom door made your palms sweaty. He kissed you so much more gently and lovingly than anyone you'd ever been with, but he was so passionate about it.

He held your face in place with his hands to make sure you didn't go anywhere, and you gripped his sides to pull him in close.

In a split second, he scooped you up and wrapped your legs around his waist, his hands settling midway up the underneath of your thighs. You couldn't help but gasp at the feeling of falling onto his bed with him on top of you, bouncing a bit as you landed.

You adjusted the pillow under your head as his lips trailed down to your jaw and neck. His fingers pressed into your thigh, which was against his ribs.

You two had never been this intimate before. In fact, it was the first time you'd hung out while no one else was home. But, just to be safe, he still shut and locked his door. His Aunt May had a bad habit of walking in without knocking, so he made sure to take extra precautions.

So you were understandably beginning to get nervous. This wasn't your first time, but the first time with anyone was scary for you. You were more excited than anything.

You two had been officially dating for two months now, but you hadn't had any time to be alone together until now. So you had to take advantage of it.

You knew Peter was Spider-Man since the first week you knew each other. You came over to work on a group project that you'd been paired up on, and he'd accidentally left his mask out. He tried to play it off as being a "fan-made replica", but you saw right through that.

So it was no surprise when he swung over to your apartment and brought you back to his place today.

Peter reached up to his neckline and pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it on the floor. You looked down and studied his body, noticing an almost healed cut right under his nipple, and you pointed to it.

"Does that hurt?"

He shook his head. "Only if I accidentally hit it." He didn't break eye contact as he slipped his fingers under your shirt, wordlessly asking for your permission to remove it.

Instead of answering, you reached down and took it off for him. Without hesitation, he leaned down and kissed your chest, simultaneously reaching under you and effortlessly unhooking your bra.

You pushed his hair off of his forehead, combing it backwards with your fingers.

To be completely honest, nipple play didn't really do anything for you, but you decided to let him do whatever he wanted to do with your breasts. You wanted him to enjoy himself as much as he wanted to make you feel good.

"Peter," you whispered, making his eyes glance up to you as he engulfed your nipple into his mouth and circled it with his tongue, letting go with a pop.

"Yeah?"

"I have to tell you something."

"Anything."

"Ugh... I don't even know how to say this."

"Just say it."

"I don't... finish with just sex."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, penetration? I can't get there with just that."

"What does get you there?"

"Oral, usually." As soon as you said that, he unbuttoned your shorts. "But you don't have to do that if you don't want to."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"A lot of guys don't like doing it. I don't want you to think you have to."

He slipped his hand into your underwear, his fingers immediately finding your clit. You gasped softly as he traced slow, torturous circles on your sensitive nub. "I'm not most guys."

"Clearly."

"Already so wet?"

"I know. It's my weakness," you breathed with a smirk.

He pulled his hand away and pulled your shorts and underwear off. You were completely naked, and you felt more exposed than you did with anyone else you'd slept with.

"God, you're so beautiful." You couldn't hold back a chuckle. "I mean it."

He returned to his original position on top of you, kissing you deeply. He slowly moved down your body, kissing your collarbones, then your breasts, then your sternum, and all the way down to the insides of your thighs.

Your hips were grinding on their own, begging for friction and touch in the place you needed his tongue most desperately.

And, as if he could predict the begging that was about to escape your mouth, the tip of his tongue pressed down onto your clit. Your eyes closed and you let out a satisfied moan.

His hands settled on your thighs, holding your legs still. His eyes stayed locked on your face even though he could barely see it due to your head being thrown back.

But he wanted to see you feel good because of his tongue. He needed to know he was doing something right.

Peter was better at oral than anyone else who had gone down on you. Usually it took a few minutes, but with Peter it seemed like it was going to take less than one. You worried it would be a turn off for him, that he'd think it was weird how quickly you came.

"Shit, Peter, I'm close."

He hummed in response, the vibrations of his voice helping you get there. His tongue was working rapidly, his jaw sore. He was doing his damndest to make you cum, to make your legs tremble with pleasure. And every second of listening to you moan and whine and every second of seeing you writhe and grind into his face only made him harder and harder.

The feeling of your orgasm building took your breath, and if his heightened strength wasn't keeping your legs exactly where he wanted them, your thighs would be squeezing the hell out of his face.

Your hands tangled themselves in his hair and pulled a bit harder than you intended, and the feeling of his voice vibrating through your body pushed you over the edge.

You went silent for a few seconds before gasping loudly, your hips coming off the bed for a few seconds before he pushed them back down to ensure your orgasm didn't end early.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you repeated quietly.

He let you cum for much longer than you usually let yourself cum when you masturbate, so it began to get overwhelming. When you lightly smacked his hand to tap out, he pulled away so suddenly that it made your body shake. He sloppily kissed your thighs as you calmed down, breathing heavily and keeping your eyes closed.

He traveled up your body, pushing your hair out of your face.

“Good?” he asked, pecking your cheek.

“Mhm.” You opened your eyes to look at him and you smiled at each other. “Condom.”

He kissed you once more before rolling off of you and walking over to his dresser. He dug one out of his sock drawer before tucking the box back under the socks.

You sat up and swung your legs over the edge of the bed, watching him walk over. He stopped in front of you and you undid his jeans, pulling them down. He stepped out of them and kicked them across the floor. He only had his boxers on, which had a good sized tent in them.

“Lay back down,” he gently commanded, which you did. He positioned himself between your legs once more, wiggling his way out of his underwear. You looked down to see what you desired most and your mouth watered.

Admittedly, he wasn’t the biggest you’d ever had, which was sort of a relief. You didn’t love huge dicks, and you weren’t sure anyone with a vagina did. You’d never had an enjoyable time with one, so you were glad you’d be comfortable with Peter. But he was still a good size, so you were still a bit nervous.

He slid the condom on with ease before leaning down and kissing you. You could feel him grinding into you, his length rubbing against where you were most sensitive.

Your legs wrapped around his thighs, your calves pushing his body into yours.

When he pulled away a moment later, he just looked at you.

"You sure about this?" You smirked at how concerned he was.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He tucked your hair behind your ear. "Just making sure."

"I want you, Peter. Please."

You reached down and wrapped your fingers around his dick, making him let out a small sigh. You guided him to your entrance and he thrust into you. Both of you moaned, relishing in the pleasure.

"Fuck," he whispered. You looked at his face, his eyes closed and jaw slack. He was so handsome, and the sight of him inside of you drove you mad. "You okay?"

You nodded. "So good."

He adjusted his position so that he could cup your face, holding it still and kissing you deeply.

He stretched you out so perfectly and your bodies and lips fit together like an intricately designed puzzle. The moans the two of you created were harmonious and melodic and they bounced off the walls.

He started out slow, almost painfully slow. You were burning for more, unconsciously using your feet to push his hips along.

"Am I going too slow for you, baby?" he whispered.

"Way too slow."

And with that, he pretty much doubled his speed. The sudden uptake winded you, a wanton moan tumbling from your mouth.

It didn't take long for you to feel that familiar sensation, but you weren't entirely sure if you were imagining it. You never came with just penetration.

"Pete," you whined, your voice shaky. He didn't answer, instead whispering 'Hm?' into your neck. "I think... I think I'm gonna cum again."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

He changed nothing, even though every fiber of his being wanted to go as fast and as hard as he possibly could. But you needed him to stay at this speed if you wanted to finish again.

And, less than thirty seconds later, his hand was over your mouth and tears welled up in your eyes. This was by far the most intense orgasm you'd ever had, and as soon as you started trembling he let himself go faster.

And, like something out of a movie, the two of you were cumming simultaneously. The feeling of you clenched down around him was what pushed him over the edge — it was too much for him.

When he finally stilled his hips, you both just laid there panting.

"Holy shit," you whispered, your eyes wide.

"Was that the first time you've ever done that?" You nodded. "Well, shit. Glad it was with me," he chuckled.

You pulled him back in for a kiss and his hand settled on your knee.

"Me too."

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shecriestotheclickingoftime · 1 day ago

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it'll be ok

patrick x reader, 11.2k words

(basically, this fic is what happens when you let a songwriter have an unlimited word count with no narrative skills but a lot of feelings...)

this is a long one, and an intense one, and the plot is kind of convoluted and a mess and a lot of and im ngl reader is very specific and also very mentally ill and struggling the whole time (and is also def a flawed character but pls go easy on her)

an insanely angsty, moody, sad, but hopeful ending Patrick Zweig x reader fic (with a lot lot lot of Art Donaldson mentions though, like he is a main character just not a romantic interest)

set during Stanford era, reader goes to Stanford with Art

TWs: quite a bit of drinking, vomiting at one point from drinking, a lot of mental illness is present here ngl, reader has a really bad relationship with family (but there are not too many specifics), and some moments where reader cannot eat or sleep because of anxiety!

Freshman year of college was hard. You’d been so excited to finally get away from your family, and attend Stanford, but the adjustment was hard. You’d already been there a couple months, and you’d made friends, your closest one being Art Donaldson, a tennis player who just kind of… popped up in your Psychology 101 class, and then just stayed in your life.

The second you walked into the massive lecture hall, you knew you had messed up signing up for an introductory science class. You were an English major, this class wasn’t even required for you, but for some reason, you were here. You scanned the room, trying to not look as nervous as you were, and sat down in an empty seat. The class still didn’t start for a few minutes, and students were still filing in, getting set up for class. As the lecture hall started to get more full, you looked back down at your notes, trying to get everything ready for today. There were still a fair amount of empty seats left, so it took you by surprise when a blonde, athletic-looking boy came and sat down a seat away from you. He smiled at you, and you smiled back, and he introduced himself as Art Donaldson. You nodded and looked away, trying to look disinterested, but for some reason, this kid was hell bent on getting to know you.

Eventually, you reluctantly decided to give him a chance. As much as the alarm bells in your mind went off, reminding you that it was definitely a bad idea to let yourself get socially involved, something about Art completely disarmed you. Though you tried your hardest to resist getting attached, especially to a guy, Art did everything he could to be a stable figure in your life, and for some reason, he cared about you. He didn’t mind your quiet, sharp exterior that you guarded yourself with; it seemed like he cared about you more because of it- from the first time you two met, it felt like he saw straight through you in a way that no one else ever had, like somehow he already knew you the first time you two met.

You did everything you could to protect yourself, keeping your struggles and emotions to yourself, like you had been taught to. The hardest part about Stanford was being away from your family. All you had ever wanted was to be away from them, away from their mistreatment, but even after everything they had put you through, you couldn’t help but miss them. You missed your parents, as much as you didn’t want to, and you felt so alone without your family. You didn’t want to be alone, but you knew you couldn’t go home either. You just felt so alone.

The only thing that felt worse to you than being completely alone, was actually trusting someone and then being left. But despite your resistance, you slowly found yourself starting to trust Art. At first, you tried everything you could to push Art away more. But every time he saw right through you, so you tried to be icier and more distant, so you could get him away before he even got the chance to hurt you. But Art had this careful kind of persistence, somehow not really minding that you pushed him away- He wasn’t trying to sneak closer to you, or get you to let him in, he just wanted to be there, wherever you were comfortable with. And as independent as you tried to be, you had to admit that maybe sometimes it was good to have a friend.

You revolved your life around school. But nothing you did could help the loneliness that had been tearing you apart from the inside since you were a young teen. You were haunted by the thoughts that no one could understand, or care, and even if they did you knew that no one ever stayed. You were too much for anyone to handle. So you had no choice but to let the loneliness fester, and to just hide the pain from everyone else. But the emotions hurt more than words could describe- so you looked for distractions. So you studied. Obsessively. And your first midterm season was no exception- you put so much pressure on yourself that on the nights before your tests you couldn’t sleep or eat, your anxiety making you feel so restless and sick that you physically couldn’t do anything besides just studying and spiraling.

–

It was not an exaggeration to say that by Friday night, you felt like death. After finishing your last midterm, you felt beyond empty. Your test adrenaline that had kept you going the past few days had suddenly worn off, and the consequences of your own actions had finally started to catch up to you. And without studying and anxiety to obsess over, you could no longer avoid your chronic loneliness. You were tired, and hungry, and completely alone.

So when Art Donaldson showed up at your door to invite you to the frat party tonight, and added that his best friend was in town and he wanted us to meet, you knew it was a terrible idea, and you should definitely not drink in this condition.

So naturally, you agreed.

You’d heard about his best friend Patrick Zweig before, and to be honest, he seemed like a cocky, self-centered idiot. But Art was insistent on introducing you two. You didn’t have much interest in meeting him, (but to be fair, you didn’t have much interest in meeting anyone right now). But, when Art asked you to just give him a chance, you couldn’t say no.

So, in your zombie state and all, you went to a fucking fraternity party. Completely out of any energy, you poured yourself a strong drink, downed it, and repeated. And repeated. And repeated until losing count.

And there you were, severely sleep deprived, practically hallucinating, and already wasted.

And that’s when you met Patrick fucking Zweig for the first time.

Even drunk, you could tell at first glance that Patrick was a player, just based on his cocky demeanor (and the fact that he was tall and hot. like, what girl wouldn’t want him?) So, you gave him a tight-lipped smile, closing your walls again before you’d let some womanizer guy take advantage of you.

Why had Art wanted you to meet him anyways? This guy seemed completely incompatible with you, and to be honest, you were surprised that he would be such close friends with sweet, gentle Art. So, you introduced yourself quickly, slipped out of the corner you’d been hiding in for the past half hour of this party, downed your way-too-strong drink, and went to go make another one. Now that midterms were over, you couldn’t use your obsessive studying to distract you from your family and loneliness, so getting fucking wasted seemed distracting enough.

But of course, Art had to notice. And he had to get worried about you, making sure to stay close and keep you in his eyeline. He’d noticed your sadness, and having seen Patrick go through the same complicated family feelings throughout his years at Mark Rebellato’s, he could tell enough of what was going on.

He was initially drawn to you because he saw Patrick in you. However, instead of shutting people out by acting overly confident and social like Patrick, Art watched you shut yourself away. And even though he had only known you for a couple months, he couldn’t help but care about you, recognizing Patrick’s sadness in you.

So, when he saw you drinking so much at the party, he knew you were just coping with loneliness. He’d seen Patrick numb himself with drinks enough time in high school, trying to fill the emptiness with liquor and meaningless flings with the girls around him, trying to escape the desperate need to feel cared about and loved. Art knew Patrick like the back of his hand, and he knew that you two were scarily similar.

As you got drunker, you migrated back to standing near Art, who was practically attached at the hip to Patrick, and you somehow end up rambling about the English paper you just finished. As douchey as Patrick seemed, something about his demeanor seemed gentle towards you, nodding and smiling softly, actually listening to you as you sipped drink after drink and had pointless conversations with Art. You tried to avoid his eye contact and ignore him- you hated to admit it, but he was good at being charming, and even after drinking this much, you still knew that you couldn’t let yourself fall for that. You’d already been dumb letting Art in so much, and you were still scared by how much you trusted him, and so there was no way you were going to let yourself develop some delusional crush on his douchey best friend. So you tried to ignore how tall he was, and how he towered over you, and how he somehow seemed actually interested in your idiotic drunken ramblings. You wouldn’t fall for his tricks.

You were incoherently drunk. And meeting Patrick fucking Zweig at the same time. You weren’t one to lose control, you wanted to tell him and Art, but at this point it didn’t even matter anymore. Because now, here you were, stumbling over your words and pouring all of your thoughts out before you could even stop to think about how embarrassing this was. It couldn’t get any worse than this.

Actually, you soon learned that it could get worse. Finally, the countless drinks that had been churning around your stomach finally started to catch up with you, and you could tell that you were absolutely going to be sick. You tried to excuse yourself quickly from the boys, stumbling through the crowd outside as quickly as you could, just trying to reach the fresh air outside and hoping that it could refresh your senses. But of course, your escape plan was useless, because Art and Patrick trailed worriedly behind you. And as they followed you out, you prayed to forget all of this tomorrow.

You breathed in the cool, smoky air, wishing to vanish or something, anything to get out of what you knew was bound to happen.“I think I need to go back to my dorm,” you blurted out, turning around to face the boys, and slowly backing away, trying to conceal your wobbly steps, praying that they leave you alone before you got sick.

But of course, you wouldn’t escape that easily.

“Hey, let us walk you back,” Patrick said gently, stepping carefully towards you.

“Yeah, it’s really late, and my building is near yours anyways,” Art followed up, offering a comforting smile.

Even in your drunkenness, you could already tell that the two were worried and definitely wouldn’t be letting you walk home alone this late. And as much as you didn’t want them to see you like this, you didn’t trust your ability to get back home right now. So, you gave up on getting them to leave, and you finally nodded, letting them catch up to you as you accepted your fate of possibly having the worst first impression in the history of ever.

You’d barely walked for 2 minutes when the inevitable feeling hit you… you were gonna throw up.

So, this was how you introduced yourself to Patrick Zweig. Instead of hiding behind your cold, quiet demeanor that you tried to maintain, you ended up getting embarrassingly drunk, and now fucking throwing up. You scolded yourself in your head, trying to breathe slowly and calm the sickness, but the ground felt like it was spinning and you lost control. You quickly made yourself stumble towards some bushes as you vomited. (sorry guys i know this is gross but it's part of the plot </3)

You tried to conceal your face from Art and Patrick as much as you possibly could, not wanting them to get grossed out by your display (if you could call it that)- although there wasn’t really a way to hide when they’re standing next to you. Nonetheless, you tried, wishing to yourself that they would somehow forget about this, and just leave you alone to die in the bushes out of pure embarrassment.

You continued to be sick, and everything just hurt at this point. But you suddenly felt a large, calloused hand gently lowering onto your back and rubbing soothing circles along your spine, as another hand gently brushed your hair away from your face, holding it back with a soft hold. Even in your dizzy state, you could tell that it wasn’t Art doing that- Art’s hands were always smooth and, like, way too well kept and soft for a college athlete. So, this must’ve been… Patrick?

God, this is your first impression? Throwing up at a fucking frat party? With him holding back my hair?

You can’t even tell how long you were standing there, throwing up into the damn Stanford bushes. But you do remember Patrick’s gentle touch never leaving your back or your face, as he whispered little “you’re ok”s into the night air as he comforted you.

After you got back up, the rest of the night passed by in a dizzying blur, your vision making everything around you look like a stop-motion movie. You could feel your drunken memories as they evaded your mind and disappeared from consciousness just as quickly as they happened. You generally remember the idea of walking back to your dorm, trying to accept what just happened. You briefly remember Art and Patrick still walking with you after that, Patrick arm floating around your waist, as he tried to keep you steady. Both Art and Patrick seemed completely unfazed, and even understanding of you, like they had experienced this a million times before.

The boys walked you all the way back up to right outside of your dorm door, making sure that you got all the way back home safe and intact. You whispered a feeble sorry and good night to them as you slipped back into your room, shutting the door and not even bothering to turn on the lights, letting yourself fall into your dorm’s shitty little twin bed. To be honest, you kind of knocked out after that, escaping from the chaos of the night and letting everything go black

The next morning, you woke up with the golden San Francisco sun peeking through the half-open blinds on the windows. Despite not remembering falling asleep the night before, you could tell that you had knocked out cold soon after you got back to your room, seeing that you had fallen asleep outside of the covers and still in your party clothes and makeup… and even your shoes were on, damn.

And, of course, you woke up with a headache. And a stomachache. And so tired, and so thirsty. But the pain in your body felt almost nonexistent compared to the horror that completely washed over you as the memories of the night before flooded back… at least enough of them to remember meeting Patrick, who was way too tall and cute to be embarrassing yourself in front of, as you recalled talking, and talking, and talking, and drinking, and talking, and then… throwing up. And then walking home.

God, not only did you embarrass yourself in front of Art’s best friend, but you also did that in front of Art… your closest friend at Stanford… and god, he probably was disgusted by you and never wanted to see you again.

At least, that’s what your mind told you, as you could help but feel nauseous again as the last night played back in your head. That’s what you get for going out right after skipping so many nights of sleep and proper meals because of midterms stress… God, you were dumb. Why did you listen to Art, and why did you agree to meet his best friend?

You still didn’t fully understand why Art had been so insistent on you meeting this Patrick guy, anyways. Did he want to set you up with a douchebag player? Like, what was the point?

Your mind flashed back to the feeling of his hand on your back, gently holding you while you were sick, and his careful, almost nervous hand floating around your waist, stabilizing you as you walked back to the dorm. That was Patrick, not even Art. And something about his featherlight touch and sweet silence made you feel like he understood you, and somehow he knew how you were feeling, even though you had never met before.

You shook the thought off, figuring that it was just your drunken mind making up this feeling between you. He was probably just giving you that smug smile that he flashed at you when you first met, and you perceived it as something gentle and kind in your pathetic loneliness. Ugh, you felt dumb. Your shame of the past night felt like a weight tied to your ankles, keeping you imprisoned in your dorm room. You didn’t want to see Art anytime soon, your mind crowded with thoughts about how he probably thinks you’re so dumb at this point, and he wouldn’t want to care about you anymore after seeing how you acted. (And to be fair, your thoughts were definitely irrational and untrue, but the Sunday (or technically Saturday) scaries can seriously be haunting sometimes).

Oh, and you could definitely never face that Patrick guy again. He doesn’t even go to Stanford, so if you can avoid Art enough, then you’d probably never have to see him again anyways. Hopefully.

But… you could almost still feel his hand on your back, rubbing circles, taking care of you while you were sick, and it just felt so… affectionate. No one had comforted you like that in a long time… Even at home, when you got sick, you’d lock the bathroom door and turn the faucet up to drown out any noise you’d make, so you didn’t “burden” your family with your illness. You took care of yourself. Like you always did, and you always would. But in that moment, even just recalling the hazy, embarrassing memory, you could still feel that safety and care from him…

You snapped yourself out of this mental spiral- God, you were delusional. And probably also eternally pathetically lonely.

And you were most definitely not leaving your dorm room for the rest of the weekend.

–

You spent the rest of the weekend hiding in your dorm, feeling like fucking Dracula not being able to bear the outside light. You tried to push down your shame, blaming the hangover for your anxiety, but you still decided that distancing yourself from Art would be the right thing to do. There is no way you could let yourself be that vulnerable with a guy, especially since you couldn’t stop thinking about Patrick, and how he took care of you. And maybe this was a strange thing to ruminate on so much, but something about it felt so personal. It’s like something is pushing you towards him, that you have no control over, making you want to just be near him again.

God, you were pining. For Patrick Zweig? You were getting attached to a guy you had met for one damn drunken night. Fuck you, Art, for introducing you to Patrick. You were fucked. And spiraling.

–

After a successful weekend of avoiding the world, you finally had to leave your room again. You had classes to go to. You took a long shower, composed youself, and got ready to get back out in the world- there was no way you were gonna let a dumb embarrassing moment in front of fucking Art Donaldson and Patrick Zweig interfere with your academics. And besides, you needed to distract yourself, and filling the void of loneliness with countless tasks and books to read sounded perfectly fine.

You saw that Art had texted you that Sunday morning asking how you were. And you ignored it. And of course, he had to text again on Tuesday, asking if you wanted to grab coffee before Psychology lecture like the two of you usually did. Like everything was normal or something.

And again, you didn’t respond. And then you skipped your Psych class. You emailed an apology to the professor, and watched over the class recording he sent you, taking notes on it. But there was no way you could face Art Donaldson yet.

Your avoidance of him almost got irrational- you knew you were blowing things out of proportion, but you were so scared that if you got close to Art again, you’d see Patrick again, and… you couldn’t do that. You made a commitment to yourself- from now on, you definitely fucking hated Patrick Zweig. You didn't need to justify yourself with a reason why. You just needed to hate him.

–

Avoiding Art got more and more difficult as the weeks went by- you skipped another Psych class and practically snuck around campus to go to your classes, paranoid that he would see you around. So you broke, and decided to talk to him. Well, not really talk to him about your 2-week avoidance. He didn’t have to know what was going on with you. So, you came up with the most bullshit excuse you could. You claimed you’d been sick, and coincidentally also your phone had been broken, and that’s why he didn’t see you and you also didn’t text him at all. Pneumonia was really going around this year, right?

Somehow, you actually showed up to your next Psych class. You sat on the opposite side of the row as Art, burying your face in a novel and pretending to not even notice anyone around you, not even him. You stared at your notebook for the entirety of the lecture, obsessing over your notes that were definitely way too detailed, and made sure not to look over at Art. He couldn’t be mad at you if you simply just didn’t see him, right? And as soon as class ended, you dove back into your novel, not even looking up on your walk out.

You knew you were acting irrationally. But you’d been acting like this for so long that you knew you’d dug yourself into a hole with Art, and there was no use trying to crawl out and explain yourself. So you just let it continue.

–

However, your seemingly flawless avoidance plan (predictably) didn’t last very long. It only really ended up lasting until that same weekend, when of course, you had to cross paths with Art Donaldson on your walk back from your favorite, cute little bookstore. You had almost made it back to your dorm without bumping into anyone, and you almost forgot about all of your anxieties-

Until you looked up and found yourself looking straight into Art Donaldson’s eyes, as he walked the opposite way as you, your eyes widening at the sight of him in his tennis uniform, with his giant racket bag slung over his shoulder. You instantly remembered: he always leaves for his Saturday tennis practices at this time. Fuck, you shoud’ve known not to be here at this time, but you just wanted to go to the bookstore so much that you had to forget literally everything else.

So, here you were, face to face with Art Donaldson, after ghosting him completely for over two weeks, because… you threw up in front of him at a party. You stopped walking as you approached him, guilt flooding your mind as you realized that you had completely shut him out for… god, almost three weeks today.

“Hey”, he said as he approached you, his voice soft, almost like he was testing the waters, as you froze in place, unable to look away from his eyes. “Where have you been? I haven’t heard from you since… like the day after midterms. You said you got pneumonia? And your phone broke?”

Your face flushed in embarrassment as you tried not to visibly cringe at how illogical your actions and excuses sounded in his words.

“God, Art, I fucked up,” you blurted out, unable to filter yourself… and now that you’ve started talking, you knew you couldn’t stop… “I’m so sorry, Art” you said, trying to breathe and compose yourself, the shame for your actions threatening to swallow you whole. “I… Ok, I’ll just be honest. I felt so embarrassed after getting so drunk at that stupid frat party, that I started avoiding you, and then I guess I… Once I started, I couldn’t then go up to you and talk to you, so I let myself dig further and further into this hole and it just felt too bad to climb out and… Well, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I should have texted, and you did nothing wrong, I just was embarrassed-” You stopped yourself from rambling further, forcing yourself to take a breath and let Art respond. You looked down, as if you were trying to gaze straight though your shows and into the ground, as you braced yourself for the worst- you had been told a million times by people around you that you were too much to handle, so you pushed away and broke every relationship, and you knew that you had just done that again. And now you talked way too much, and he

“Listen… I get it” Art almost whispered- and when you looked up, you were met by a sympathetic smile and a worried stare that looked like it could read your mind. “I know how stressed you were because of midterms, and it definitely wasn’t a good idea for me to drag you out to a party right after we took them- and I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you by also introducing you to Patrick too, I know that he can be… a lot. And I’m not mad at you. But next time, just let me know if you’re not doing well. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, just… be in contact.”

You were almost taken aback by his words- you were expecting Art to give you icy stares and bring out words so sharp that they pierced straight through your skin, and you felt like you would have deserved it. But he actually thought about you, and apologized? You stood there for a moment, your mind still processing his response and unable to form words, when he spoke again, this time softer and more nervous:

“Just… try meeting Patrick one more time? You don’t have to anytime soon, but at some point, just get to know him a little. And then you can never talk to him again, but… this is important” he insisted, his tone anxious and almost a little awkward. He offered a comforting smile, still noticing some fear lingering in your eyes after the entire conversation.

–

Looking into your expression, Art’s mind went straight back to the one night in 10th grade at the academy, when he and Patrick had stolen a joint from their young guest tennis instructor’s bag, and decided it would be a great idea to try getting high together for the first time. It started fun, as Art and Patrick settled into a half-conscious recalling of embarrassing childhood memories, laughing at themselves and at old classmates, until they had somehow gone into talking about family memories, when Patrick broke down crying while confessing about how much he didn’t want to go home for the holidays. In the 5 years that Art had known Patrick before that, he never heard him talk like that. The two of them talked for a couple hours, eventually joking around and laughing too hard at everything, like high teenage boys would do, but something in Patrick had melted away- like some barrier that he had held up for so long that neither Patrick not Art even fully realized it was there the whole time- and Art suddenly saw a glimpse past Patrick’s self-centered persona, and say what was behind his loud words and bold actions.

But, by the time Art woke up the next day, Patrick had realized how much he exposed himself the night before, and completely shut down. Of course, with this being Patrick, it didn’t last more than a week before he and Art started joking around again- but from then on, Art could see through Patrick’s actions a lot more. And even though Patrick never explicitly mentioned that night again, and he still probably wouldn’t, even years later, he did open up a little more after that: he started calling his parents when Art was in the room, and starting skipping his own family’s events to stay at Art’s grandma’s house during the winter holiday breaks- and although Patrick never showed this side to anyone else, he let Art see it; he had almost memorized the hurt in Patrick’s eyes after rough phone conversations with his parents, the loneliness that Patrick tried to cover up so desperately, and finally could see straight through Patrick’s words, when he pushed people away because he was afraid. And when he met you, despite the fact that you seemed cold and almost kind of mean, Art instantly recognized the distinct kind of sharpness in your voice, and the fear hiding behind your judgey stares. And since then, he couldn’t help but want to take care of you and protect you, the way that he wanted to protect Patrick- but even more than that, he could tell that Patrick would see straight through you too, and soften him up a little. Neither you nor Patrick seemed like the type to admit that you cared, but something about the two of you seemed intertwined, like there was some sort of invisible string between the two of you that was obvious to Art the moment he met you.

–

Stupidly enough, you had actually agreed with Art that you’d meet Patrick again. But maybe not yet. Art understood more than you thought he would, and didn't bother you about it as you warmed back up to a friendship with him. You stopped feeling like you had to sneak around campus and you went back to sitting with Art during Psychology class. And even though things still hurt, the weight that your family had left on your shoulders seemed to slowly get lighter, and you stopped missing home so much. Between Art, your other English major friends, and some kind professors, you have started to feel a bit more independent. However, even as you let yourself let go of home a little more, you could still feel the loneliness gnawing at you- you liked being independent, and you had gotten used to being independent- you had been independent your whole life, figuring out how to cope with things yourself and not letting yourself need anyone. However, even as you became more content with your college life, you still felt a desperate part of you wanting to feel a little cared for and wanted- maybe just someone to understand, to share the hurt sometimes. But you just blame that on your family issues, praying that the empty feeling would eventually fade away- it was better than trying to find someone to fill it, you couldn't let yourself trust anyone to stay.

But in the meantime, you focused on yourself. At least you tried to. You tried to take care of yourself, you worked hard in classes, and you didn’t force yourself to call back home. You tried to be more social, actually attending some frat parties with your girl friends (and the nights didn’t end terribly for you anymore), but you still strictly maintained a lot of your coldness and quietness- you liked having friends, and you felt like you fit in, but you made sure to lock away any sign of neediness or pure vulnerability- you didn’t want to let your past drag you down, so you shut it out, and shut everyone away from that part of you. And you did a pretty good job- but of course, Art saw right through it. But he didn’t say anything, he just tried to help from the outside as much as he could without overwhelming you. He started bringing over coffee or dinner when he noticed that you were shutting yourself in your room, and quietly helping you out on the simpler things, like helping you out with laundry or helping you out with your desk clutter on the days that it was hard to get things done without some motivation.

The next few months of the semester floated by, as you learned to balance your schoolwork with the rest of your life, and you buried your sadness deeper inside until it was almost invisible- although you could feel it tearing into you a little more. You felt it when you were alone, and even worse when you were in a group or a crowd, still feeling lost and like despite even being friends with all of the people around you, none of them actually could touch the pain inside of you- and you felt too guilty to tell them, not wanting to place your burdens onto them as well.

You ended up staying at Stanford for thanksgiving, telling your family the excuse that it was just too far to fly all the way home for less than a week of vacation, and had dinner alone on the floor of your dorm, drinking through a bottle of wine and watching trashy reality tv. You didn’t tell anyone that you did this- you didn’t lie, but you also dodged any conversation about it. Although you told yourself that you loved the cozy nights alone, you couldn’t fully ignore the loneliness ripping you apart further. As much as you tried to cover it up with a quiet and guarded personality, you still found yourself in bed at night replaying the distant, fuzzy memories of Patrick Zweig on that one drunken night- and even though you tried to hate him during the day, you still found yourself curled up on late, anxious nights, letting yourself remember and cling onto a feeling that you felt for less than a second that night, finally allowing yourself just a brief moment to be weak, no longer holding onto your defenses, and for a silent moment letting your mind be cradled by that untouchable, unexplainable feeling that somehow, for some reason, someone had understood you. He understood you, and he saw straight through you, and he still held onto you.

(But, by the morning, you had already pushed that idea so far back down, that you would have forgotten how real it felt, when you let yourself feel it. But, by the daytime, you were sure again that you were imagining these things about Patrick Zweig, and you allowed the familiar pull of loneliness tearing you apart just a little more, crying for something that didn’t exist. And inside, you kept a secret from yourself- that all of you was hoping for just one more night that you would let yourself be held by the memory again.)

–

You saw Patrick again in passing on the few times he came to visit Art. He always seemed to try and talk with you, despite you brushing him off every time. Once, much to your dismay, he came with you and Art to grab your usual coffees before your lecture together, and Art basically struggled to hold back his laughter at Patrick, whom he had always seen as the charmer who moved on from girls almost instantly, seemingly try his hardest to try and get you to break a little. And while Patrick respected your space, and left you alone when you brushed him off, he seemed like he was longing for some sort of conversation with you.

And the truth is, Art would’ve advised Patrick to fuck off a long time ago after you ignored him for the first time, if you had wanted him to leave… but Art knew you, and based on the way that you always blushed whenever Patrick’s name was brought up, and you always fidgeted with your jewelry and hair anxiously even as you openly ignored Patrick, Art knew you were just pushing him away. Art had seen you do it before, and while he allowed you to push Patrick away over and over again, part of him just loved to see how much Patrick actually let his guard down around you. For the first time in Art’s life, Patrick was really nervous about a girl. So nervous that his cocky, charming alter-ego completely fell when you were there. Because Patrick understood what Art had noticed in you- you were also hurt, and really really persistent in protecting yourself, hiding any vulnerability. And Patrick was the same- but something about you made him ok with showing that he cared. With you there, he couldn’t help it.

Patrick visited Art a total of 3 times that semester (not that you were counting, definitely not), and for each visit, Patrick tried to approach you at least one time, wanting to really talk to you, but always giving you space whenever you signaled for it. He felt bad being so persistent, constantly trying to understand and follow any rules or boundaries you were setting, but it felt like you were being purposefully vague with him. So, he followed your lead as best he could.

And to be honest, you didn’t even know what you wanted either. Your mind told you that you needed to push him away. But you just couldn’t let him go completely either. But it just couldn’t work out. Everything was confusing, and nothing you could do felt right. You didn’t like him, you couldn’t. You didn’t.

Unfortunately for the both of you, Art could easily tell that you and Patrick were both way too into each other- but there was just no way to get you to let your guard down in front of Patrick. You seemed terrified to let him care about you, even though Art could tell you had a soft spot for him, and how much you forced yourself to block him out. But every time you told Patrick to leave, he made sure to leave you alone and give you the space you wanted… but you always just ended up looking depressed whenever he left, no longer talking and shutting down even more than when he was there. And by the end of Patrick’s third visit, after you spent the whole time trying to push him away, but you then always stayed around Art’s dorms and tennis practices when Patrick was there. Always near him. Art couldn’t help but notice how you locked yourself in your room for a few days, and looked unusually and consistently sad every time he saw you for at least the next week.

God, you two were absolutely, undeniably lovesick, and it was getting more obvious in every interaction.

—

As you neared the last month of your first semester of college, you almost forgot about the yearly Stanford tradition that was inching closer and closer- family weekend.

Well, actually you didn’t forget at all. How could you, when you got like at least twenty reminder emails in the past week, and saw the flyers for the activities that were planned for all of the students to do with their parents. You were fully aware that family weekend was nearing…

And you just didn’t tell your parents about it. You didn’t have to. And honestly, they were so focused on taking care of your older sister at her school, that they didn’t even keep up with any Stanford news. (and, even if they had seen one of the many emails that were sent, they didn’t mention it, because they ended up making plans to visit your sister over the weekend). And so, you were going to be alone on family weekend.

You crafted a plan for this weekend nearly identical to the one you had for thanksgiving- ask for a couple bottles of wine from your sorority friends, order a shit ton of food to your dorm, and hide inside and pretend that nothing else exists from Friday to Monday.

And that was the plan. Sure.

Until Art had a different idea.

“You know, since my grandma’s house is only like an hour away from here, and she’s gone for the weekend, I was just gonna stay there for the weekend. And I have spare bedrooms, and air mattresses in the basement, so like last minute now I’m hosting boys and girls tennis teams, and we’re partying all weekend. I guess a lot of tennis kids don’t care to see their folks this weekend either,” Art grinned at you excitedly, looking a little too excited to explain his plan. “And you know… you haven’t told me about what you’re doing, but on the off chance that you were free this weekend I saved a room for you in my house if you’d want to come. No pressure,” he says, and you definitely don’t miss the glimmer of excitement that flashes in his eyes when you nod your head, deciding to just let Art win and not try to put up a fight. To be honest, it’s not like you were doing anything good locked up in your dorm room, so you might as well go to Art’s house. Worst comes to worst, you’ll just hide and read your novels in the guest room there anyways.

“By the way,” Art says, looking slightly nervous but also clearly holding back a smile, “Patrick’s gonna be there this weekend too, if that’s ok. You don’t have to talk to him at all, it's no pressure at all.”

–

The rest of the week passed by you like a breeze, and by Friday morning you were packed for the weekend and ready to go. You had packed a combination of casual cute clothes and some sweats as well, since Art had claimed that this was all gonna be chill and casual.

All of Art’s guests had to organize rides for themselves, but since you weren’t part of the tennis teams, Art had immediately offered you to go with him. Art was always weirdly good at identifying what was making you anxious, and trying to find a solution if he could. So, after an hour car ride of you blasting your favorite songs with the windows while Art drove you both down to his house, and you realized how much you missed obnoxiously loud music**** and speeding down highways while you were living at Stanford.

****(Irrelevant author’s note: in my mind, I’m imagining listening to the Jeff Buckley songs Gunshot Glitter, Nightmares by the Sea, and What Will You Say, specifically the live version from the Theatre de Fourviére, Lyon, France. Yes, it being this specific exact live performance is very important to me! And for bonus points, the Radiohead songs Airbag, Just, and How To Disappear Completely (depressing but heavenly at full volume), and also for something fun and loud, the song Closet by Fleshwater. Trust me that song is so good omg. Ok thats it from me byee <3).

It seemed like no time at all until you and Art arrived at his (insanely oversized) house, and as you pulled into the smoothly paved driveway, you felt a breath of relief escape from your lips. You didn’t fully let yourself process just how much you were dreading the Stanford family weekend until you realized that you actually, officially escaped it, and the relief washes over you like a cold rainstorm finally breaking through a heat wave so long, you had forgotten that the burning feeling wasn’t normal.

While the thought of your family not even noticing, or more likely not really caring about, the family visiting weekend burned in your chest, it at least felt good to get some physical distance from the festivities going on back at school. And even though you loved Stanford, and it started to feel like your true home, you knew it would do you good to be physically forced out and away from your beloved dorm room, after trapping yourself in it so much (which you had also been planning to do again this weekend). And besides, you knew that Art was going to set you up with a cool guest room, which, although you didn’t want to admit it, would definitely be way nicer than your cramped little single dorm and rock-hard twin bed that you had grown used to. (No hate to the dorm room from this story we still love u queen <333)

Walking through the front door of Art’s house felt like another sigh of relief, a pestering weight being lifted off of your shoulders, even if just for this weekend. Since you traveled with Art you two arrived a little before everyone else, so you two share a bottle over overly-expensive sparkling rosé (that is definitely too fancy to be consumed casually like this, but Art clearly doesn’t care), while the two of you hang around as people start to arrive and leave their stuff in their rooms.

It’s only like 7pm on Friday night when the party has already seemingly started, all of the guests having arrived and just too excited to wait to have fun until later that night. You find yourself more relaxed at this party than at the usual frats, sipping on some other expensive champagne that Art opened for you, actually savoring your countless glasses you’re drinking, instead of your usual chug of overly strong liquor-filled complete mind-escaping drinks. You queue up songs and walk around the ground floor, the kitchen, the living room, and the game room all filled with different groups of tennis kids playing games and hanging out. It feels a lot more low stakes than the usual frat rager, and you enjoy the slight warm and fuzzy feeling you're getting from the alcohol, instead of drinking until you stumble around and your head feels empty.

You almost get surprised when a song that you’re sure you didn’t mean to queue up, Lover, You Should’ve Come Over by Jeff Buckley, the live from the Cabaret Metro in Chicago version (yes it being this live version is important to me) starts flooding the room. The song is definitely too gut-wrenching to be playing at a college party, you think to yourself, but you also don’t make any effort to skip the song or turn it off anytime soon. Hearing this song blasted over the speakers, surrounding you in its emotion and vulnerability, feels almost like a complete catharsis. And of course, as if in a queue, you spot him across the room…

Patrick. fucking. Zweig.

He looks up at the same time as you, the bridge of the Jeff Buckley song blaring and the timing feels too in point, like some sort of dumb set-up. And you almost want to roll your eyes, but you can’t move your stare away from his eyes, and without even trying you feel like you can read straight through his intense gaze, like you’ve both been hypnotized by each other’s expressions. And as you hold eye contact for far too long to be normal, you see a break in his expression. For a single moment he looks completely fragile, and his walls have broken straight through. And in his eyes, you see a glimmer of sweetness, and even though he’d tried approaching you several times before, he had never looked this lovesick and cute before. And though you’d only met a few times, and you tried to convince yourself you didn’t care, something in you broke down from the way he was looking at you… and for a passing moment, you could read the loneliness behind his expression, and you could feel it tearing him apart too, the same way it did to you. And for the first time you let yourself notice a concealed sadness in his eyes that felt so familiar, a thought crossed your mind that said that somehow, you must have known each other all your lives.

The moment only lasts until you blink, and you realize that you had fully stopped breathing for the past 39 seconds, looking at him. Your mind swells with a hailstorm of countell words, your thoughts connecting and swirling into tornados, and you couldn’t help but just sit there and feel them breaking down your strength and burning doubts through your memories. You felt as old memories started echoing through your body, and your mind was filled with alarms blaring, begging you to not let the past happen again, screaming at you to run or hide.

You tried to pay back attention to the music, which had moved from Jeff Buckley songs and was now playing some old SZA that Art must’ve cued up, and you tried to focus on the music, wishing that it would drown out the noise of the alarms that still tortured you, and your thoughts were so loud you thought they might overflow. Needing to get out, especially before Patrick saw you like this, you rushed over to Art, desperately needing to reach the nearest escape route.

“Hey Art, which guest room is mine?” you ask, trying to press a fake smile on your face, willing your face to look happy, but your voice chokes as you desperately hold into the tears threatening to stream down your cheeks. Everything is too overwhelming for a second, and while you try to focus just on the music, the random groups of friends hanging out around you start to feel like they’re closing in on you, and their drunken giggles and chatter start to sound like they must be talking about you. All of a sudden you feel suffocatingly claustrophobic, and you can’t help but choke on your breathing. Just praying to the tears and sobs you’re clinging onto can stay back for just one more minute, at least until you get to the stairs.

Art looks over your face, almost worried but trying hard not to press into you and make you feel worse. “The stairs are through there”, he says, gesturing to a hallway on the right, “and your room is the third door on the left. There’s a little sticky note with your name on it up on the door, I put one on yours and Patrick’s rooms to reserve the best rooms for you guys,” he explains, trying to give you a comforting smile, trying to show his understanding without making you feel delicate, even though you look like you could break at any moment. He’s never seen you like this, so opened, and it’s like someone completely tore down the walls and guards you always keep around you. The coldness that usually sits in your eyes is gone, and while you may just look kind of upset to most people, Art can tell how unprotected you feel right now. He nods and guides you over to the hall that leads to the stairs, but he lets you walk up alone so that you don’t have to cry in front of him. Despite his instinct to comfort you, he knows that you want to be alone right now, so he lets you go.

Your conversation with Art goes mainly unwatched and you sneak out of the party pretty successfully, as you’re finally out of sight from the crowded living room, stepping slowly up the soft beige carpet that drapes over the tall spiral staircase. Once you’re completely hidden from the party, you finally let yourself lose control over your spilling tears and silent sobs, rushing up the stairs and into the room that Art had labeled with your name. The guest room looked regal, an ornate white cabinet standing against the wall and a huge, soft bed sitting in the room, the towering white bed frame adorned with a transparent, light blue canopy that draped over the bed, turning the bed into a fantasy-like cove that looked like it belonged on a cloud, not in a spare bedroom of the Donaldson’s mansion. You somehow don’t even have the energy to change out of your jeans before you flip off the lightswitch and crawl straight into bed, letting yourself get swallowed up into the blankets as your tears and mascara silently stain one of several white pillows stacked around the bed. If you weren’t in the middle of crying you probably would’ve laughed at how extravagant and detailed the Donaldson’s guest rooms are, the whole mansion feeling like it should have been more out of Downton Abbey than the house of Art Donaldson. There were also somehow like 5 other bedrooms scattered around the house, and you didn’t even want to imagine what the rest of them looked like.

Sniffling, you close your eyes and do your best to breathe, pushing away the thoughts that you feel eating at you, echoing around your mind, waiting for answers- what the fuck happened there with Patrick? You took one good look at him and wanted to cry, like what the fuck.

The familiarity in his expression is haunting- you’ve spent so much time feeling alone and misunderstood, and you’d just figured that no one would really get how you feel, and that was ok… But he understood it. He understood the loneliness tearing you apart, and maybe somehow he felt it too. But why would some random, rich, popular tennis player kid understand you out of everyone? How could he understand feeling unwanted, when he looked like that? And the memory of his brash, cocky smile makes you want to cry even more, you can’t believe you’re getting attached to someone who clearly wouldn’t care about you. You had tried too hard to push him away, and not let yourself get close to him whenever he came to visit… but something about tonight made you feel completely powerless. What scared you the most was that during all of it, you could feel that all you’d really wanted in that moment was to be wrapped in his arms, and told that everything was ok. You just wanted to feel cared for- you didn’t want to feel the pain by yourself. And feeling like that was genuinely terrifying.

And as much as you hated the truth, you also felt so relieved to admit it. To maybe be ok with it, even though it seemed terrifying to trust someone like that again. But despite how much you hated the truth, it felt freeing to stop forcing yourself to deny it, even if it was just for a moment.

You let yourself sink into sleep, and despite the night being hard, it somehow felt necessary- and while you know that your guard won’t stay down forever, it at least felt good to let yourself past the walls for the first time in a while.

–

The next day you woke up to an intense beam of sunlight pouring straight through the windows and onto your bed, and the tension that you’d been holding in your body doesn’t feel so tight anymore.

As you climb out of the sunlit bed and step onto the cold wooden floor, you can’t help but cringe when you realize you slept in yesterday's clothes. And jeans. You really were completely drained, and you must have also been crazy tired yesterday- maybe that’s why everything felt so intense, and your little moment with Patrick was not as terrible as you thought, right?

You changed into a new outfit for the day, fixing your hair and redoing some makeup, and you went down to find an already populated kitchen. You ate breakfast and made small talk with some friendly tennis girls, checked in with Art, and curled up on a couch and read for a couple hours- you tried to not hide in your room, but you definitely were also not going to waste all of your energy before the night even began.

By the time you had gotten up that morning it was already past 10am, and the rest of the day seemed to just breeze past you, as you alternated between reading, hanging out in the backyard with Art and some of his teammates, and you even passed by Patrick a couple of times without psyching yourself out too much.

You were curled up on the couch the first time he walked through the living room, and he smiled at you when you looked up. But the proudness and obnoxious confidence that he usually bared in his smile was absent, his expression just kind of cute and soft, a stark difference from the usual intimidating mask he has on. He ends up just passing through the living room and going to the kitchen, but his smile sticks in your mind for a little longer, your slight surprise as the pure softness of his look still present in the back of your mind even as your mind wanders away from him and back into your reading.

You two pass by each other a couple more times that day, and you notice how even when he greets you in public, his guard falls for just a minute when he looks at you, his loud facade falling just for you. Art clearly notices too, and you can see the amusement on his face whenever Patrick looks over at you, stealing small glances at you when you don’t notice. He’s told both you and Patrick enough about each other that you two don’t seem like strangers despite this being your second time meeting. He can’t help but let out a laugh when he sees the way you look back at Patrick though- your stare back at him is cold, and even though Art knows that you’re not doing it on purpose, you never really smile back- you seem more focused on reading Patrick’s smile than focusing on your own face. And no matter what, you consistently look away from him first, and your cheeks burn a little red every time you look away.

You two continue your silent game for the rest of the day, and you let it happen. Patrick Zweig was pining.

Even after your constant pushing and pulling, and avoidance, and dismissing of Patrick, he was still there. After fucking months. And for some reason, he understood you. And he fucking waited, he waited for you to open up, and he didn’t even know if you every would. And he cared for who you were. Even when you were really fucking embarrassing. And maybe, possibly, he isn’t just trying to hurt you, and, like, someone could actually care. And you wanted to let him. You did.

But you stayed quiet.

By the time the sun had set, you had decided to accept your fate as completely hopeless. And you were completely exhausted. And you decided that you should just talk to Patrick and tell him it’s over, and you don’t want him. And you knew it would be a blatant lie, and he would know it was a lie, and even fucking Art would know it was a lie, and you didn’t know why you were doing it.

And you could again feel yourself being ripped to shreds on the inside. And you knew it was your fault, and you were making it happen. And to be honest, all you could think about was how you wished he was holding you. And you wished for things to slow down, and for the constant alarms in your mind to quiet down, and you just wished that everything could just cease to exist for one moment, so maybe for once you could have a break.

You and Art were the only ones left outside, surrounded in a total silence that was more vulnerable than anything you had ever said to him. And you tried to tell Art about how you really, truly, didn’t want Patrick. But the words just didn’t make sense. How could you end things with someone you had never even started with? How could you even explain to Patrick that, even though you had always rejected him, that you actually wanted him the whole time, and now you don't? And how could you even admit to Patrick that you wanted him in the first place? And how can you explain a feeling this complicated?

“It’s fucking torture. Even just thinking about him is fucking torture,” you say, your words piercing the silence that had laid so comfortably over you before.

You watched as Art turned his face, looking at you, but not saying anything.

You let out a shaky breath before continuing, “It’s just… I don’t even know anymore. I don’t understand why I can’t let myself be happy for once. For the first time, I feel like I’m just completely breaking. Like, I can’t protect myself anymore. It’s like I’m fucking killing myself keeping people away, and I feel like it’s what I need to do to protect myself, but I’m fucking dying maintaining this. And I don’t want to be like this. I want to be different.”

And you just… cry.

And for the first time, you don’t hide, and you don’t try to run away. You sit there, and cry. And you just let it happen.

You look over at Art and break a small smile- “Can we watch a movie?” You ask, your voice still a little shaky.

And, of course, Art grins and nods- “Yeah. of course. We can go to the little lounge upstairs,” he says, getting up alongside you as you both walk indoors.

Just like last night, the entire ground floor of Art’s house is filled with the tennis kids partying. But you don’t spot Patrick anywhere as you and Art cross through the living room and reach the stairs, and as you climb up, Art breaks the silence.

“Patrick’s probably in his room,” Art says, looking straight at you, practically having read your mind.

You roll your eyes and let yourself smile, softly responding, “could you maybe invite him?”

Art nods, pointing to the TV lounge room, saying “there’s the lounge room. I’ll ask Patrick. Meet you there,”

The wooden floor planks make a slight creaking noise as you walk down the hallway, entering the little room that Art had pointed to. It’s just a little lounge room, with a sofa and an armchair facing a tv. You pick up the remote and start fiddling with it, sitting down on the big couch, sinking into the cushions. Your heart rate goes up a little as you hear footsteps coming near the door, and Patrick walks into the room, followed by a grinning Art. Patrick sits on the other side of the small couch, while Art snatches the remote from you and claims the armchair.

“Any requests?” Art asks, flipping through the different streaming options. Neither you nor Patrick answer, so Art ends up flipping through the options before picking some random, terrible looking horror movie off Netflix. He turns off the room lights as the movie plays, and you curl into the couch. You can’t help but look over at Patrick, watching him stare at the screen, clearly deep in thought.

You watch Patrick for a long moment, and although you can feels the alarms in your head waiting to go off, you just stay still. And you feel scared for a second, realizing just how unguarded you feel, and how easily you could just fall into Patrick’s hold.

And for the second time that night, you cry. The tears stream silently down your face, and Patrick looks over as you wipe them off. And you just cry. You cry because you’re lonely, and you cry because it hurts that you just want to feel cared for so bad. And you cry because you wish you could’ve told Patrick or Art about your family, and you hate that you feel so damaged. You cry because you hate how Patrick and Art understand you so well, and you cry because you know that Patrick understands you because he feels it too. And you cry because you hate how much you’ve resisted Patrick, and that you didn’t let yourself even talk to him. And you cry because you regret pushing Patrick away so much, and you cry because you watched him open up for you, and you couldn’t do it for him. And you cry because you miss the way he touched you on that first night you met, and you cry because you feel dumb for crying.

And Patrick can’t help but just look over at you, your knees curled into your chest as you cry. And he doesn’t know what you’d want him to do. He’s never seen you cry like this, and he can tell how much it hurts to cry in front of him. “Hey,” he whispers, looking over at you, your face tucked into your knees, and for the first time, you seem so small. His gaze softens when you look up at him, letting him see your tear-stained face. And in that moment, the couch seems so big yet so small, and he just wants to hold you.

And Patrick can see Art out of the corner of his eye, observing the scene. And Art almost looks frozen in awe, looking at how his best friend looks at you, and how you look back at him.

You and Patrick look at each other for a beat, when Patrick almost inaudibly whispers, “can I come closer?”

You nod, letting go of your knees pressed against your chest, and move closer to Patrick. And you can't help but meet his gaze again, as he leans in and scoops you up into his lap. And you’re curled up against him, your head his chest, as he wraps his arms around you and just holds you there. Patrick looks over to Art, who is now watching the movie intently, as he glances down at you, trying to make sure that you’re ok.

Art looks over at you two and can’t help but smile at the scene, seeing both Patrick’s tough act and your cold defenses just completely let down. But it’s really late, and he quietly gets up, whispering to both of you that he’s going to sleep and good night.

And wrapped up in Patrick’s arms, you let your eyes close and you nuzzle your face into the crook of his shoulder. And he holds you tighter. Patrick leaves a kiss on the top of your head, as you whisper, “Can we lie down? I’m tired”

Still refusing to let go of you, Patrick adjusts to lay across the couch, and you lay over him, as he holds you flush against his chest. As his arms wrap around you, he rubs circles across your back with one of his hands, and holds you tightly against the other.

And you feel safe in his arms. And as you drift off to sleep, you feel that maybe, from now on, you won’t have to go through everything by yourself.

#challengers #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson #i need josh o’conner so bad please #josh oconnor #tashi duncan #challengers 2024 #challengers movie #challengers x reader #challengers fic

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fix-it-darlin · 42 minutes ago

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rhav (fullmetal alchemist oc, doctor and former state alchemist)

david- they probably appreciate his pragmatism and prioritization of others, finds gruff demeanor appealing but not much thought given beyond that, if the two of them got closer, they'd probably bond about trying to keep the people they care about from getting hurt, but those people not listening to them and then getting hurt

huxley- immediate short circuit of the brain and then lots of questions about how his 'earth based alchemy' works, they're a bit thrown off by his carefree attitude, but genuinely enjoy their interaction with him

vega- wtf even is this guy?, feelings are definitely mixed and their fight or flight is going off but they also get the sense that people will get hurt if they don't do something about him so definitely a fair amount of hostility that's feeding him

porter- thrown off by his charm initially and then realizes that he's got very little sense of self preservation and views himself as a weapon, gets real rattled about that and has to fight the urge to try and check him over for wounds

geordi- so glad to finally meet a normal person in this universe, they think he's a bit paranoid but they get it

blake- honestly just really disappointed in this guy, like c'mon, you've got the ability to see the future and help others and you've centered your whole being around one person when you've got the potential to be so much better than this, but ~no~ you have to go and be a massive racist asshole who's willing to hurt everyone to get what he wants, they don't even hate him, it's just more of a 'come on man, you're better than this. where is the board of ethics on this?'

hush- you know what, after everything else they've seen at this point, they're just glad that the god child isn't trying to kill them

rowan wagner (space cowboy)

david- he finds him pretty cute, thinks he'd be a fun guy to take out for a drink and get him relaxed but nothing too serious, discussion over drinks would likely be about taking on some kind of job, rowan's a flirt, but he knows when someone's out of his league

huxley- the accent? is something else, but once he gets past it, probably vibes with this guy quite a bit and talks shop on the quality of the earth in the area and what kind of wildlife hangs around the area

vega- well, doesn't look strange enough to be an alien, but is too strange looking to be a human, if vega tries to rile him up, his first reaction is going to be to flirt relentlessly while vaguely alluding to his gun but no one's sure if that's a euphemism or threat

porter- there's an accent he's familiar with, two flirts can play this game, definitely gets rich guy vibes from him and hasn't decided whether he wants to schmooze or antagonize him, the vampire part is the clearest cut part about this fellow and rowan's not even phased by it

geordi- rowan actually knows that star trek exists and is a pretty big fan of it (his space colony had recordings of all the episodes and some of reading rainbow available when he was growing up) so he catches the reference almost immediately and is delighted, he chats him up and teases him a little but is also just on the cusp of nerding out and has to hold himself back from instigating a star trek infodump, he's just got this big stupid grin on his face the whole time he's talking to him and has used some of his cheesiest pick up lines on him just to see if he can get a laugh

blake- this isn't his first rodeo with folks who've gone and gotten themselves possessed by some eldritch horror, he's this close to trying to shake this man by the shoulders and ask him why the fuck he's gone and doomed the universe, rowan is frustrated, annoyed, and just generally enraged by him, but he's handling it significantly better than he did the first eldritch possession he came across

hush- strange little fella, honestly not sure what to do with him, but he's happy to answer any questions, he's not spooked by him because he looks like a slightly less strange version of the aliens he deals with regularly, and he can relate to the whole not understanding people

joey (morally grey lie detecting detective)

david- they appreciate his honesty but also see way too much of their old boss in him and being prone to butting heads with authority, they're not a fan and just try to avoid him because they know that if they don't they are going to start a fight

huxley- they're intimidated at first because they're relatively short and huxley's kind of a big guy, a bit weirded out by the hole digging thing, but they have seen weirder in their line of work, wants to ask more questions but they're reminding themself that it's best not to go asking about things that might be more personal if they want to stay on people's good side and they really want to stay on his good side because they view him as a decent connection to have because they take notice of how much he seems to notice

vega- they're honestly pretty unphased as a sadistic super powered being is more their speed, yeah, he's a liar but he's a predictable one, they're used to people trying to manipulate them but they're able to see through it and brush it off, glad to find something that's relatively familiar in this new environment and has somewhat positive emotions about him

porter- they can not trust a word out of his mouth and they're so tired of it because they're not able to turn off their powers and it's just a constant ping of 'oh, that ones a lie' when they even try to talk with him, and they're probably holding their tongue about it because they've already come to the conclusion that he could probably kill them if he felt like it and it was beneficial to him, probably tries to return similar energy and probe him for information

geordi- confused as to why he thinks that they're a telepath as in their world, most telepaths are pretty damn invasive and loud about stuff in their experience (this is not normal and actually they have high mental paranoia and so that makes it hard for even the most skilled telepath to make it into their mind unannounced), vaguely annoyed by him but also find him endearing, they won't admit it of course

blake- they're immediately repulsed by him purely on the principle that they're reminded too much of themself by him, he figures out pretty quickly that they're "empowered" in a sense and he's spouting his bullshit and they just hate him so, so much and they want him and his lies gone, legitimately contemplating murder

hush- once the wtf is his deal wears off, it's just kind of like, oh yeah, vaguely murderous superpowered being who could crush them like a bug if they pushed things too far, this is just a typical tuesday, astounded by how not a single thing he says is a lie even though they're sure the stuff about him being a force given form is made up, but you know what, they'll humor him, stepping on eggshells around powerful beings is just their default mode

ok cmere listen

take an oc you have from literally any universe that you have (other than redacted)

tell me what’s happening if they were to run into

- david

- huxley

- vega

- porter

- geordi

- blake

- hush

you can doooo as many of them as you want to

(this is just an excuse to hear about peoples OCs btw)

#oliver thinks aloud #redacted audio #redacted geordi #redacted vega #redacted porter #redacted blake #redacted david #redacted huxley #my ocs

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istharoth · 3 days ago

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Through the Glass [Rui Mizuki x Reader] wc: 1.2k gn reader | Minimal angst | not proof-read

Inspired by this art

The one time! The one time Rui goes to his classes to get away from Edward, Dante decides to hold a pop quiz. He doesn't dislike Dante, per se, he's much better than his own house advisor. He'd rather become a student of Frostheim or Vagastrom if it meant Dante was his house advisor.

But enough of that, there's not enough time to complain and he can't get to Haku for a quick smoke break. The quick smoke break meant ranting how many times he'd been called to the main building courtesy of complaints about Lyca and about the Ed house arrest situation. Seriously, he didn't want to go to his class only to get back a quiz he was sure he failed.

His gloved hands glide down the staircase. He needs to return to Dante's classroom and not be stuck in the stuffy staffroom where all Moby did was go on a tangent about his favourite idol group, horribly trying to cover up his errors. If he needed someone to talk to about that stuff, Rui would send him to an online chat instead of him and Haku being the scapegoats.

His feet stop at the second floor, he knows he still has a long way but he finds himself looking around. Wasn't the Inspector's classroom here? It would be strange if he looked around while classes were in session so he'd rather not but, he wishes he could see them for a moment.

Shaking his head, he sighs walking back down, his hand sliding down on the railing. His glove tugs at something and he stops. Pulling his hand towards him, the glove tears, his palm uncovered and the cloth stuck at the railing. Looking closer and pulling at the cloth, he sighs upon seeing an untightened screw.

"Ah, shit," He grumbles, hurriedly walking downstairs to exit the main building. The class can wait, he doesn't want to cause a massacre. He also can't risk getting his hands on his plants, they'd die just as quickly. There's no winning in his situation.

Just how did his life turn out to be this way? "Mizuki," He hears his name and almost flinches under the cold gaze of Dante. If it was a lecture, he hoped Dante could wait a while.

Dante's eyes fall on his ungloved hand, his eyes narrowing. "Follow me, I'll get you new ones." He gestures to Rui to follow him, the vice-captain of Obscuary following slowly, a bit dumbfounded Dante noticed it quickly. Moreover, why would he have his special-reaper-protected gloves?

It's an artefact, a widely produced one, but still, even he only has five of them. "The staff is required to keep it, most don't though." Right...it's a bit curious how Dante could read the expressions on his face.

"For you and Kagami, though his are different." Rui's eyebrow perks up in surprise. He doesn't quite know what Subaru's stigma is, granted they've never been in the same class or house. As long as he can remember, Subaru was a Hotarubi student, and he was a Clementia student.

It was pretty hard to keep his curse under wraps during his first year, he did say to Darkwick he got cursed after a mission but it happened long before. During the Clash, he accidentally killed someone with the curse and ended up in the Ultio prison until Haku requested for him to be put into Obscuary, a place where non-humans reside.

Striding into Dante's office, he notices it to be relatively clean. Dante tells him to stay put while he pushes his wheelchair into a connecting room.

He had never strung Dante to be the most accommodating, but he was proved wrong. He wouldn't have thought Dante was going on about his day carrying an extra pair of gloves in case Rui had a mishap. It's likely to protect the students, but he appreciates it nonetheless.

He leans against the window panel of Dante's office, watching multiple students walk out of the main building after their afternoon classes. Unfortunately for Rui, he has to head right back to work—work as in another mission.

It's the same old scenery he's become accustomed to in these past years, not many things have changed. What he feels towards Darkwick, what he feels about its people... would the inspector be considered as one of Darkwick's people?

His mind wanders a bit too much when it concerns the Inspector, every moment they arrive at the bar, it's a good time. Often he ends up opening till late hoping they would show up. If they did, he could convince them to sleep over or even drop them off to Clementia. He needs to repent for all he's done anyway.

...Speak of the devil and it shall appear. Maybe it's just a coincidence the Inspector was walking out of the main building with two of their friends. His eyes can't leave their figure, it's always been that way. He's not so sure why either, but he likes looking at them. They weren't a Plain Jane, as said by Edward.

Really, they're not close either. They were Lyca's mentor, and Edward was their only source of information about Kyklos. Where did he fall on the Inspector's list? He wouldn't count them to be friends, and the curse buddies term is fleeting. He'll soon become the Grim Reaper, his flesh leaving his body while only bones remain. Whereas, they would become Kyklos, a plant-like beauty.

He doubts any of the plants he's grown would compare to the Inspector's beauty once they turn into Kyklos.

There's no point in dwelling on what will come. He needs to leave but his eyes don't leave them. As if acutely aware someone was staring at them, they turned around, eyes widening and a smile blooming on their face. He doesn't have a chance, there's no point in this.

"Rui!" The Inspector calls, but he can't hear them. For just a split moment he's cursing the anomalous sound-proofed windows. He watches them say something to their two Frostheim friends, he's not sure who they are, but he knows one of them is a transfer student.

They rush to the window, grinning widely. He fidgets with his awkwardly placed hands, ending with placing on the window glass. He hopes the anomalous being dwelling within it won't die. They position their hands on top of his, the glass creating a barrier between the two. He's scared, the second the glass shatters, their hands will meet and they'll die.

How does the unlikely death of someone he's met a mere few weeks ago scare him so much? He's never been too scared as a child, the waves are deep, and he's sunk a few times but never enough to fully kill him.

He's not scared of most things other humans are, but he's already lost his humanity. He's scared of losing himself to his curse, he's scared of being the one to kill them. Most of all, he's afraid of falling in love with them.

"Hi," he whispers breathlessly, their smile widening as they respond. He cannot hear them, they can't hear him but they're still there. They're still behind the window, this was the only way he could be close to them. This is all he can have.

#tokyo debunker #tdb #istha rambles #istha fics #rui mizuki #istha don't write rui angst challenge failed

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kaliforniahigh · 23 hours ago

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Can you please write something about Noahs girlfriend trying the ‘dafuq’ trend that I’ve seen all over TikTok on Noah 😭 If you haven’t seen the trend you can probably check anywhere for it! xx

I went down a rabbit hole watching these videos. Couples trend are so funny when they're harmless!

You know what other trend would be funny as hell? Recording with a filter and seeing how long it takes for Noah to notice his eyes are too far apart LOL

From time to time, Noah agreed to do a video with you. You weren't super active on social media, but sometimes you posted food-related videos. This time, you invited him to taste the Crumbl flavors of the week.

You both left the store, and Noah was holding the large pink box full of cookies in his hands, and you reached in his pocket for the key to unlock the car. You both got in and he set the box on the center console, in between you two.

"Why do we have to eat in the car?", he asked you, a bit puzzled by the idea.

"Because it's the aesthetic, Noah", you explained, grabbing your phone and setting it on the holder stuck to the dashboard.

"Eating in the car is an aesthetic now?", he mumbled to himself and you just chuckled in response.

Noah thought you were just tasting the cookies in the video, but you had something else planned. You've seen this trend going around on TikTok, where girlfriends praked their boyfriends saying "dafuq" at the end of every sentence.

You decided that it would be a fun prank to pull on him, since it was harmless and there was finally a couples trend that didn't dimish the woman.

Since you didn't use many slangs while speaking, you had a feeling he would catch on pretty soon. But it was worth a try anyways.

"Ok, I'm gonna start recording", you told him and you saw him adjusting his hair out of the corner of your eye. You hit the record button and started speaking.

"Hey everyone, so we just left the Crumbl store, and we're sitting here with a big box full of cookies for us to try, dafuq", you said the last word a little lower, so it wasn't as obvious.

Noah rubbed his hands together, actually excited to try the sweet treats.

"So I was thinking we could split them in half, dafuq", you said, while opening the box and looking over the different flavors.

"What, did you find something strange in there?", he asked you, pering into the box, and you realized he was acknowledging the "dafuq" you added. Playing it cool, you replied.

"No, everything's fine", he only nodded in response. "Do you want to try the Confetti Milshake or the Snickerdoodle first, dafuq?"

You looked at him, trying to keep your composure. He was looking at you weird now, but didn't comment on it yet.

"We can try the Snickerdoodle first", he said and you went to grab the cookie and split it in half, handing one piece to Noah. You both clicnked your cookies together in a toast before eating, and you really hoped he wouldn't say cheers, because you couldn't imagine you saying "cheers dafuq".

You both took a bite out of the cookie, feeling the sweet flavor enter your mouth.

"This one is really nice. Simple and nice flavor", he gave his review.

"It is really nice. Not to sweet either, dafuq", you said, grabbing a napkin to clean your mouth.

"Ok, what is going on?", he finally asked you, now turning his body to fully face you.

"What do you mean, dafuq?", you said, looking at the box as if trying to decide the nest flavor.

"Nope, you're dodging the question. Why are you dafuq to the end of every sentence?", he grabbed your hand and you turned your head to look at him.

You couldn't help but break into laughter. His expression was actually serious, because he was actually concerned about you.

"Why are you laughing?", he asked, with a little indigination in your voice.

"Oh, this is so funny", you grabbed your stomach and tried to take some deep breaths. "It's just a prank I've seen on TikTok", you finally explained to him.

"Oh my God", he breathed a sigh of relief. "I thought your brain was malfunctioning for a moment", he put a hand on his chest.

"I'm fine, I promise", you put a comforting hand on his arm, and after finally calming down, he said.

"Can we try the Confetti Milkshake now?"

You stopped recording and grabbed the cookie from the box, splitting it in half and giving a piece to Noah.

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ninyard · 2 days ago

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I’m really really curious on how riko saw Kevin from his childhood to “adulthood” and how did he switch to be a kinda normal kid from this, was it when he saw nathan killing someone in front of him that created that sick sort of fascination that he have toward this thing or was it another thing ?

This is such a good ask I love thinking about this!! I always wonder at what point in their relationship did their dynamic change from siblings/friends to competitors/abuser and abused. And I think if we take that Kevin’s mom died when he was that little bit older, it definitely changes how their relationship must’ve been in the beginning.

It makes me wonder how Kayleigh and Tetsuji socialised Kevin and Riko together when they were really young. Did they see each other often? Did they know each other well before Kayleigh died, and Kevin moved in?

Let’s take it that they were as close as siblings, and they might as well have been living together with the amount of time Kevin spent with him in training, or time spent together when Kayleigh went abroad for work and couldn’t take him with her. I think the shift in their relationship wouldn’t have happened until after she died, though, until Riko got the idea in his head that Kevin was his. Not Kayleigh’s, not Tetsuji’s, his.

Riko, more likely than not, probably would’ve displayed signs of being unstable in his childhood. Small things that could’ve been brushed off as boys being boys and kids being kids; he would trip Kevin up and pretend it was an accident, eyes almost dazzling at the blood that dotted his grazed knees. Riko would always take the rough play-fighting too far. He would poke his bruises harder than he should, he would embarrass Kevin in front of other people and make it look like it wasn’t intentional.

I just think of some sort of scenario where Riko takes it that step too far; ten, eleven, maybe, and they’re wrestling, rough housing like they do sometimes. Riko decides he wants to try something, he wants to see how it feels - when Kevin has his back turned to him, he locks an arm around his throat and locks him in an inescapable grip. Kevin’s anxious laugh as he struggles out of the chokehold turns into exasperated pleas to let go, this isn’t funny, I’m going to pass out. He lets him fall in a deoxygenated heap just before he passes out, and it’s a minute until he catches his breath again.

“What is wrong with you?” Kevin pushes Riko back when he takes a step towards him. “Why did you do that?”

“I didn’t think you were being serious,” he laughs, a lie, gaslighting, downplaying, whatever you want to call it. “I didn’t actually hurt you. You’re being dramatic.”

There’s other things after that, small ways he got pleasure out of hurting Kevin; at the time he didn’t know that that was why he was doing it. Maybe he just thought it was funny. Maybe he thought it was a joke. Bending his fingers too far backwards, almost dislocating his shoulder in an arm wrestle, hitting his racquet where he knows it hurts, where he knows Kevin is unprotected.

I don’t think that Nathan’s victim was the first body either of them had seen. Where or who or what they would’ve seen before that, I don’t know, but I don’t know. Maybe that body they saw with Nathaniel was the moment where Kevin realised something was seriously wrong with Riko; how he didn’t look away, or grimace, how he smiled the whole time. How his pupils widened as he watched a man being cut into pieces.

Maybe that was when he took it to the next level, when he truly stopped being afraid of Kevin bleeding at his hands. He knew how much he liked it, he’d seen it right in front of him, but maybe that’s the catalyst for when he stops holding himself back. Permission, almost. Look at what man can do. Look at what you’re capable of.

#he’s wired wrong regardless #so I don’t know if there was ever a time in his life where he was ‘normal’#I just wonder when his relationship with Kevin changed #when he started seeing him as his punching bag #ask

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soo-won · 3 days ago

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Hi Al! I'm not sure I have much positivity to share exactly but I still want to try to like? maybe give another kind of perspective that helps process things with more peace and acceptance?

very long post under the cut sorry..., but there is too much to say about Yona and the themes of the story!

To begin with, I don't think this scene says anything more than what we already discussed at length after chapter 257, it only confirms it even more, but this is really a time paradox huh. Hiryuu considered stopping things in his time, Hiryuu didn't throw his sword away, Hiryuu could have done everything Yona has done now too. But he didn't, because Yona was there and told him not to. Like...I don't think Hiryuu literally made Yona exists when wishing to live longer, she had to already be existing in the future for it to happen, so it's more that their soul connected through time and space in the one moment their heart called for the same. It doesn't make sense logically in term of timeline and cause/consequence because we deal with the divine and souls I'd say.

But I don't think Hiryuu had trouble reconciling with loss really? Yona definitely does, but Hiryuu wasn't really trying to like reunite with the dragons again himself. He left that to Yona. What caused him anguish is the idea of dying before freeing the dragons and especially Zeno. His wish to live longer is not so different from Suwon's, it's out of not wanting to leave things unaccomplished. To me what the gods say in chapter 264 imply that first of all they let the dragon warriors go on even having no idea whether Hiryuu would come back at all and when, and also that even if he did come back to them, they would have still not put an end to it because they just don't care. Like without Yona asking like she did they would have let the dragons die and be born again and kept Zeno immortal too. Even now I'm still not convinced they made Zeno mortal again, like isn't that something only the dragon in his blood can decide? And we've only seen 3 dragon gods out of 4 in ch264 so hm. However Hiryuu the individual is very much over and I think he was aware of it and accepted it. Again I swear I can't tell if Hiryuu realized Yona was from 2000 years in his future, but whatever he thought, he accepted to let her deal with everything after him and it means exactly that, we're after him. Hiryuu the person is no more. It is only speculations, but if Hiryuu decided to not return to heavens even after death, I'd say it's because as a soul without any vessel he maybe wouldn't have had any mean of action? But honestly what would have happened to Hiryuu's soul is complete mystery so I just don't know tbh, it's something that feels a bit pointless to theorize over for now.

But this chapter also implies Yona didn't really process in ch257 that what she was doing is dooming 2000 years of generations of dragons. She was in the middle of a quest to retrieve her friends, in that quest she was brought in that past where she stopped them from being completely erased from existence as they are now, and then chased after them again with a new resolve. Yona has a very finite goal in this arc: she wants to see her friends again. She wants to save them. She doesn't think about saving the world at all right now. That glimpse into the past was only that to her, her present is what drives her. It's not that she really doesn't care about the dragons' sufferings, it's that from her POV, it already all happened and she wants to make things different now. She had the power to make things different before we agree, but what she's doing now is trying to argue that she doesn't want the gods nor Hiryuu/her to have that power at all over the dragons or anyone to begin with. She throws away the sword, symbol of power over life and death, the one that has been teased since the prologue of the story that we thought was a flashforward to the ending...And Yona rejects it all. She's not being Hiryuu at all here I think. She's fully Yona. She's not some hero trying to restore the world from darkness like a hero of legend, she only follows her heart, and it's Suwon having that goal right now. She's not a King descending from the Heavens to make or protect a country like Hiryuu, the only thing Yona has ever done and is doing here is trying to help the people that she knows are in need, and here especially because she knows only her can do it. Of course, as the chagol arc developed she can see beyond her circle of close friends and she wants to find a way to end wars too etc...But the way she goes at everything is the same. In this chapter she realizes that she really made the dragons wait forever and all that suffering has to end here and now. She says it, she can't let them suffer any longer.

And in a way it's a nice twist to what the narrative hinted at until now. Many in the past (in universe and among us readers) thought that Yona is here now to save the whole country from some kind of "darkness" like Hiryuu in his time (supposedly), but that's not it. Sure, Yona did influence, change and help many people in her journey for real, but she finally found the meaning of her existence as Hiryuu's reincarnation: like Taejun said long ago, it is far more humbler or what we can call "selfish". The meaning of being reborn with the red dragon's soul is to save the dragons, not the world. The world doesn't need the gods after all, it needs the power of people. And driven all along by that simple prayer without even being aware of it, she indirectly moved and inspired others to protect the country and its people themselves. This is a bit different from Hiryuu too. Maybe he had similar feelings, but he failed to accomplish any of that in the end. He made the people depend on him, he saved them, but once he died they were lost and could not find the will and power to do anything but to cling on his symbol and depend on the skies again. In the end, he couldn't truly save and protect anyone in a lasting way. He himself points it out in Zeno's flashback arc actually: No matter what he does, war never ends. Maybe by then he had realized that his existence on Earth is actually pretty pointless and meaningless, that he can't give humans eternal peace. That it was arrogant of him to think he could just come and do that.

So I agree with you on this, and the story hasn't adressed this, but...Hiryuu loved humans I truly think so, but he still went at it like a god. Like? He became their King. He led people to wars. He was still very much above them. He accepted everything that made him special in the human world, he chose for them, then died and left everything behind. He should have died if not for the sword the Gods gave him and the Dragon Warriors. (By the way, the fact they didn't let him be killed is interesting? Like Hiryuu dying technically should made him come back to them sooner, yet they went out of their way to protect him like they did. Curious.) This wasn't explored at all for now but honestly I'm not surprised since Hiryuu was still new at this whole humanity thing wasn't he? That'd make sense to me that he either felt pressure to still be a special existence as a human and/or that he didn't know any other way to "help" them. He's more human than the other gods that hate anyone against them and love anyone worshipping them, but loving every humans whether they betray him or not without any conflict (as far as we know, like, we've never seen him be upset, have we?) is still pretty arrogant of Hiryuu. Yona is different because she was born human. She doesn't love and feel for everyone unconditionally and by nature. She hates and feels upset by others, she feels conflicted, she has to make the active effort to learn and understand others better, even those she doesn't like. Like what Hak said about Suwon (which was pretty unaccurate), loving everyone is the same as loving no one. Hiryuu surely developed deeper, more genuine feelings for the dragons (and I'd hope his wife and children too?), but it was already too late.

Another point is I believe what Suwon and Hak discuss in chapter 262 can apply here too. Suwon and Hak have no power to actually redo anything over, so when they talk about it it's only as a what if scenario, but the conclusion is that rather than changing or "correcting" the past by receving punishment, Suwon should rather find a better way next time in their life /now/, moving forward. And I fully agree with that. First because he didn't do anything wrong he should regret <3 But also because admitting that the way things happened was painful to him and Yona and Hak and that's the real tragedy of that night, then yeah, I want to wish for a way for Suwon to accomplish his ambitions without having to discard his feelings too.

But even if they had the power to go back in time and despite being fully aware of the suffering he caused to some, Suwon has no regrets, and yeah of course he doesn't! I wouldn't want him to! That'd be like rejecting all he accomplished and lived for and the people he helped and saved and worked with etc etc...It might have been painful and unfair at times but that's the only life he has. He wouldn't change a thing but he can grow and learn and use his past experiences to do better. So...I feel like the story applies that same logic to Yona and the dragons. Accepting to let Hiryuu put an end to the dragon warriors in the past is like accepting to reject all her life since she met them if not before, and the time she lived with them, and what they felt and accomplished together, and how she changed and could learn to stand on her own thanks to their help etc...They mean all that to her. And no matter how miserable the lives of the previous dragons were, it doesn't feel right to erase that completely either, right? They didn't deserve any of that but erasing this history and these existences doesn't do them justice imo. If there was a way to make all the past generations have fulfilling happy life without sacrificing the present that'd be amazing but then it'd feel like nothing truly matters too. Admitting we could ask for the present dragons' opinion, Zeno aside, I'd be surprised if they said they want that too. They're characters that /would be made/ to think that, sure, but that wouldn't be out of character, would it? The fact Yona decides for them still is a problem, that's true, but that's different from saying Yona made the wrong choice. As we discussed it's indeed also hard to not see things from the POV of the past, from Zeno's POV, from the hundreds of dragons who waited and suffered all their life in vain. But we're in a time paradox and we can only turn in circle about this like. Yeah that's terrible for all the dragons of the past and Zeno, but the other choice would likewise be terrible for the present dragons and everyone now, but then again it's terrible for the past dragons...etc etc...there's no end to it.

What actually bothers me more in this chapter is how easily Yona chooses to put an end to the dragons' powers in their stead. Like, the one thing people blamed Zeno for was how he took away their agency, but Yona does very much that again here. Sure it's kinda the only way to possibly free them AND keep them alive, and it's really a case of "what Yona thinks shouldn't matter bc it should be about what /they/ think, but alas to the gods Yona's opinion matters more so that's how it is" but that still leaves a bad taste in my mouth that it will supposedly be resolved like that for them. I wish things were executed in a way that showed them consent to it? like regaining some consciousness or being able to communicate with her in some way? or even hint at wishing for something of the like before? I...don't have any hope they will resent Yona for it at all since they'd probably be made more busy worrying for her next etc but I can only pray the story will dare to take some little time for them to process the loss of their powers and what does that make them now, and what can they do to help from now on etc. But wait and see.

So to me the core of the problem is not Yona's decision, it's Yona's writing overall. What we yearn for is Yona to be challenged in her beliefs. To be wrong. To fail. To be held accountables for her mistakes and grow from them. For the story to truly own the ways Yona is indeed not perfect, instead of making her not perfect but still framing it like she is. To me the solution to this isn't for her to kill Zeno with that sword or anything of the like at all. I want Yona to be wrong but not about everything and not about her feeling everyone deserves a better ending. I want akayona to reach its happy ending, I want Zeno to either be able to die happy with no such tragic conditions or either to be allowed to live a normal human lifespan from now on, I want the dragons to live as normal humans, I want the Hiryuu descendants to be saved and live long life too. But I want to see Yona struggle to achieve these. And by struggle I don't mean just the story throwing things at her that she has no responsibility over, I mean...doubting herself, falling, failing, correcting herself, learning from others and her own mistakes and not only the ones she made before the coup.

But akayona has carried this flaw since the end of the Awa arc lowkey, the spotlight is never on Yona admiring and learning from others (but Hak I guess...), it's always others admiring her and learning from her. Truthfully, I don't think that's true, and definitely she learns from others like Kouren, Meinyan, Suwon, Keishuk even lol but that's only something you can infer from what happens, whereas what is highlighted is always how admirable, noble and good and loved she is. I don't think this was much a problem before the Xing arc, as what happened in the Fire/Water tribe arcs compensated the beginning of this terrible trend for Yona's writing, but I'd say starting Xing (which I still believe is an arc with excellent character moments), every villain/antagonist only existed so Yona and the character she had more "complex" and interesting interactions with and that challenged her, could work together against a common enemy and resolve the lazy way all conflicts that existed between them. Like,, Gobi was just that for Yona and Kouren to me. Then Chagol for Yona and Meinyan (even if admittedly Chagol had more going on than Gobi lol), and now the gods for Yona and Zeno. If you zoom in, it's not just that, and I believe there is still good to be taken from how things turned out but...overall I don't think this serves Yona's character development in a way I'd find really meaningful. I assume it's this way exactly to convey the idea that all these characters are all driven by the will to protect something, and in different circumstances (like against a stupid common enemy) they realize they're not so different and are not "bad" people but I can't help but feel unsatisfied with how things are resolved everytime. She grows still but it's just like...she gains more experience and knowledge. There's nothing to resolve. It's not inherently a bad thing but it fails to move me like it did at the beginning and imo it can be a burden for the story akayona is telling.

Like I said, her goal in this arc is to save her friends but...there's nothing special or novel in that. This happened many times before. Of course she's going to save her friends. Like she always did. I fail to see anything meaningful in the new things Yona say or do now because I'm just "yeah that's nice, but it's not like she struggled with that before"(before meaning everything after the awa arc). It's so hard to feel it for me, because it feels like a given. And for a final arc I find this anticlimatic. Even now, I did want for Yona to be stuck in Heavens with the gods, but I hoped it would be a bit more the result of her own flaws than the gods 100% forcing her and her simply not realizing this would happen I guess? In a way you could call the current development a struggle, but you know, we have never seen Yona struggling defying the gods before like. She always confronted people with higher authority and/or more power than her. Kumji, Hiyou, Chagol. Sure these people have more and more power and she got hurt confronting them but it's not like Yona emotionally struggled against them the way she did with Suwon in the past, where you can clearly see her progress everytime she faces him and the people around him again. The only other place I see real progress is in her relationship with Hak like how she can more easily says she loves him now, or being able to protect him like she always wanted etc. Which is a shame because the development of these two (and more especially Hak I painfully have to admit) can actually be seen through their interactions with far more characters.

So now this is the part I make it a bit about Suwon I'm sorry... Because I can't agree with what I've read in the notes of your post about him. You did not say these things yourself but I still want to give my two cents on this as someone that loves him and often feels upset for him because of what akayona throws at him.

Things changed, god knows how much I hated it in the castle and chagol arcs pretty much for the reasons i listed just above, but despite everything I truly believe Suwon's very existence will always challenge Yona (just like she challenges his) and that it still does now. That again Suwon highlights Yona's emotional development well too (again, it's mutual). And that at least with him, nothing is resolved easily. Unlike with other characters, there was never anything more challenging for them but to work together against a common enemy. Being kinda stuck together in the Chagol arc only made things infinitely more complicated and painful and conflictual than they already were. The way it presented it was disconcerting to say the least, and I almost dropped akayona for real from it, but with them it never was as easy as "oh this person saved/helped me now I love them and I will do anything to help in return!", like, from both sides. And it's because even after chapter 221/224 and the Chagol arc I could tell Suwon would not simply end like Kouren or Meinyan or anyone Yona helped before in the narrative that I finally started to breathe slightly more easily. It can be similar in some ways, but I still see a lot more nuances with him than previous examples. And it's still not fully resolved between them. And Yona and Hak had to change their stance irt Suwon and the people around him continuously from the beginning to now too. (Yona moved me the most recently when she found Hyuri in this dark alleyway when she was in the middle of running after Zeno, stopped and sat at his level, and could talk about Suwon from the past like the child he was like no one did before, and that she could see Hyuri not as a crazy violent murderer like Hak and Mundok did in that same chapter, but the man watching over Suwon and protecting him, someone that Suwon needs by his side. That she can say she wants Suwon to live, and this time it doesnt feel like it's only about "dying selfishly on her" but simply the feeling of wanting him to be there, even if not part of her life, and that she could be grateful to Hyuri and thank him for protecting her friends...that's all immensely meaningful imo! Even if nghh Hyuri's monologue in response is siighhh...come on. (gestures) akayona.)

It's so damn slow with them, and Hak is still angry and will always have grips even if they reached a point they can help each other more honestly now, and Yona will never forgive Suwon, and Suwon will never regret what he did nor apologize for it. And Suwon still carries his own convictions and ideology that to this day still go at odds with Yona and Hak. I'm not saying Suwon is immune to akayona's problems at all, I'm painfully aware he isn't, but I still believe his existence in the story now has a lot of meaning and brings a lot of nuance and food to ponder more about everything else. And it's not a bad thing that Suwon accepts them more like...that feels like the natural progression. Of course they wouldn't always stay super distant and confrontional and they would slowly work together closer and closer as they all influence each other, grow, and understand each other better. We as readers might want for Suwon to forever act like Yona and Hak aren't special and important because yeah it's cathartic but...Suwon has never been like that. They were always special to him, from chapter 1. Suwon is his own character, not just a proxy for people tired of (gestures) the AnY narrative that makes everything about Yona and Hak. The same way the shadows can't accept how things changed and force Suwon to be what he's not. Of course, it doesn't change how irritating it is that yeah everyone sides with YonaHak eventually and tend to prioritize them over what they cared about before or themselves, like they're pawns more than characters, and of course Suwon isn't real and was purposely written this way and recently I feel so pained because I so wish it let other characters play a role in his development...but I'd say that tbh if Yona and Hak have to be special to someone I'm fine if it's Suwon. The way he chose the country over them is still so meaningful and admirable. Yona herself said she understood, Hak recently acknowledged that fact even if he could never do it himself. But it's at the same time true that it hurt him to kill his own feelings because of this ideology, and even more so if that makes him accept death so easily. Readers might do that at lot, but I genuinely dont think the manga actually judges if Suwon was right or wrong. It's not about that. It focuses on the characters' conflicting feelings in changing circumstances. As much as I think akayona has a problem with the way it frames things, Suwon's side included, it paradoxically still let a lot of nuances be. It often resolves things in a lazy, infuriating stupid way, yet it's not as bad it feels like either? If it makes sense. Once again it's not like Suwon throws away all his convictions for them! And that's part of the still on going tension and conflict! The execution stings half of the time I can't pretend otherwise but... No matter what I don't want to close my eyes to what is definitely there I guess.

Also, the fate of Hiryuu descendants weren't mentioned at all yet. I don't think it's a problem I think it will be adressed when the time comes. I don't want to wish on a star but my two cents now are: Yona freed the dragons from what tied them to the divine, and she pretty much used her divine authority to do so, but she didn't realize how herself is bound to the divine and probably needs to cut that tie as well. And I suspect that if there is a way for Yona to lose all connection to Hiryuu and be saved, then it will be the exact same key to free Hiryuu's descendants. And Suwon is on his way to the mausoleum, and Suwon famously hates Hiryuu and sees him as useless...Like if there's someone that is damn annoyed whenever Yona is perceived and treated like Hiryuu and by the crimson illness it's Suwon, so...wait and see... I'm sure Hak will have some major role as well but I don't like much when Hak has a role I don't really care about that for now, but recently I appreciate the way he's written so! (Like...flawed and struggling and having inner conflicts that he grows from and stuff...give that back to yona omfg).

In the end I think Yona's character is still meaningful in many ways. She doesn't move me like before, and it's painful to think she is not written like I'd want her to, in a way I can connect with again, but she is amazing to analyze and break down like that and she is the root of many fascinating questions. Like yes that's cool the narrative revolves around the feelings and experience of this girl in a male dominated world, i like the different layers of her identity as a normal girl, a princess and god reincarnated, it's cool it's about her gaining agency and power and that the male characters are here to support her, it's cool she hates that it's at the price of others losing that agency and she wants everyone to be there and free. It's beautiful that she always feels so grateful of people for helping her and hugs them and thanks them everytime. It's amazing that she's the kind of character to never give up, but also acknowledges she wouldn't have been able to without people being here for her first. I like how she cares for people, the "discarded" ones like she does. How even if she's ignorant and doesn't understand everyone's feelings and experience at first, she constantly tries to. I love that when meeting Zeno, believing that he had no power that could "protect" her like the others, she was glad to meet him only for his warmth and because she felt happy with him. I'm glad when she told Kija, that was always convinced he was born to protect Hiryuu, that she wants him with her even now that he feels like a burden. That she told them that them dying like that because it's their fate and duty is not okay again and upsets her, that she's grateful for Kija just being there even if he can't fight. I like that she wants to break all cycles and refuses the unfair destiny imposed to the people around her. She loves her friends, she loves people, despite the way she can be inconsiderate/insensitive/unfair too, which is important to point out of course. It's because it's not black and white that it's so hard.

There are countless things to say about her and she is more than either the perfect badass 10/10 queen everyone praise no matter what she does or the terrible person that doesn't truly care about anyone but herself and treats everyone like shit. I don't think she's shallow like that, one way or another. I do think the way people despict her in fandom space often is though, but I'm not interested in that Yona at all. I love how she stays so true to her feelings no matter what, I love that selfishness of her in the good and bad. I don't agree and I don't like when she says Suwon is selfish in chapter 252, but I don't mind that she, Yona with her very unique and personal experience and story, thinks that. Akatsuki no Yona is about people's heart and feelings clashing with reason and objectivity, and through Yona it chooses to show us things we can only see from her side of things. Yona herself is struggling with that. She wants to help her people as Kouka's princess, but she feels conflicted between her duties as a princess and wanting to save her friends. It felt easy to resolve it by Suwon avoiding her the struggle longer and just letting her do what she wants, but I think it did it this way precisely because the manga doesn't want to preach about what would be "right" here. There is no answer. There are only people doing their best to tweak things to find compromises. Suwon gave her the opportunity to follow her heart because "objectively it's better if it's yona dealing with this", and Yona uses it fully. Yet she still intends to come back too. A compromise again.

So what always bothered me is not Yona herself but how everything surrounding her is framed. Likee the narrative makes a ton about her when I don't think it's needed at all and kinda goes against the point. That it sides with her is definitely intended and meaningful in its own right, but I thought it was doing it much better before and I prefered when it was humbler about her and I felt like it was siding with more POV and characters but her (and Hak). So...she's not that protagonist I identify myself much with anymore (and the story itself kinda makes yona and hak's development something that we can only be a witness of outside of their head now, rather than following all the thought processes that make them grow from inside and their POV) but no matter how you process your feelings for akatsuki no yona in the end, keep being disillusioned, it's good! Keep being disillusioned about her and akayona as a whole again and again, and be disillusioned of your previous disillusions because that's the way to see it truly for what it is the most. Nothing erase the way akayona and yona's character are flawed, so there is no need to erase what is definitely there and good about it. Take all the good and bad and how they coexist. I just find it painful to hate everything so much that it makes doubt everything and blind to what is simply there so I don't want it to happen to you :').

Akayona is a mess like that, it's terribly flawed but it's also good in so many aspects and that's what makes it so damn complicated and frustrating! But also extremely interesting, and I think it's possible to appreciate it this way. So best wishes to you Al!! I love your akatsuki no yona writings and I'll be sad to see you stop and fall into that painful spiral, but it's also fine to take distances or drop it completely depending on what feels the best for you. I'll always love to discuss about all of this with you if you want!!

Critique ahead, read at your own discretion.

Am I understanding this correctly? Because of Hiryuu’s selfish wish to have more time on Earth, Yona was created, thus their soul did not return to the heavens to be with the other dragon gods. As a consequence hundreds of humans were damned with the dragon powers and short lifespans. If Hiryuu had accepted his own death as a natural course of life as a human and went back to the heavens then all of this could’ve been avoided. But it seems both he and Yona have trouble reconciling with loss. They’d curse strangers if it meant having more time with their loved ones. How is this not viewed as corrupt? Their resolve is painted as this heartwarming thing - that they’d bend reality if it led to the safety of those they care about. But what about everyone else? The world isn’t comprised only of those dear to your heart. They say Hiryuu loved humans but the more I examine his actions it seems he simply wanted control over them.

I want to love this manga, I have loved this manga, for many years. It was amazing seeing Yona’s growth and getting to know all the characters. Soo-Won, Shin-Ah, Zeno, and (earlier chapters) Yona will always have a special place in my heart. But the way the themes are being developed leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Idk, if anyone has some positivity to share about how things are progressing please feel free to do so, because at this point I’m disillusioned with YOTD.

#akayona #lumen rants #sorryyy I hope this is intelligible and not annoying...#also as a RGU lover i understand you feelings all too well like #Utena also inspires and influences others just by being herself and trying to save Anthy #But it adresses how she's flawed and wrong about things until the very end #Like her very last line ough..#RGU is so good !! Utena is so good!!#So I prefer how it does things over akayona but yeah #I hope I don't sound like you shouldn't be frustrated or upset at all because no. Please be. It's good.#Yona #Suwon #Hak #Zeno #Hiryuu

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harocat · 4 months ago

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i love figure skaters, they just get better and more unchill every year

I DO TOO. I do have mixed feelings about Ilia rn because I really worry about the way he's being managed. I don't think Ari (his manager) cares much about long term success as much as breaking as many records as possible (honestly if you read Ari's Russian interviews it's a little scary the way he talks about his athlete). I know he's trying to get all this done while his body is still very young and capable, but at the same time I worry he won't even make it to the Olympics if he's not careful. :(

#and you might say #but kelly you love nathan and he was doing just as crazy of shit for his era #and you're right but the difference was i had a lot of confidence in nathan's team and nathan himself to take care of his body #nathan was extremely tactical #he had a severe injury right before his first senior season #because he decided to YOLO a quad at an inappropriate time #and that stuck with him #he did practice quad quad combos #and apparently could land them #but they weren't worth it points wise so he didn't risk his health training them #same with the quad loop which he could and did land in competition #but it hurt his hip (loops be like that)#so he stopped #(and despite this he DID still make me very nervous at times)#but when i see ilia practice and i watch ari talk in interviews #it's very clear what ari wants--- and it's quantity #and ilia is nineteen and it seems to me not a single person is telling him he should be careful #and it worries me #it does remind me a bit of the russian training style we see #where these skaters flame out young #and i dearly hope that doesn't happen to him #i don't actually worry about the quad axel tho #it seems like a safe jump for him #but i do wish he'd stop doing it in exhibitions like... you are 19 and i know this is how 19 year olds be but you are not invincible #I don't like when skaters do quads in exhibitions period #hystericblue

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firestorm09890 · 1 year ago

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had a thought just now

what if one of the reasons why Ienzo is so jarringly chipper (and far more casual in speech, mannerisms, and posture than Zexion) in DDD and KH3 is because before, for basically all his life, he was vying for the attention of someone he looked up to (whether it be Ansem or Even or Xehanort/Xemnas) and competing with his peers, and made sure to act seriously and with the confidence you would expect of an experienced, aged veteran rather than someone his actual age (because you know how it is with adults and treating people younger than them as inferior)

but post-recompletion there's no one to compete with except himself and no mentor to impress until Ansem comes back

#kingdom hearts #ienzo #goddamn. if I wasnt on team #ansem shouldnt have come back to stay #before then I guess I am now #the pressure to impress is BACK ON !!!#i wonder how ienzo feels about it…#did that bit of time where he had to decide for himself what he wanted to do feel refreshing and freeing #or was it daunting and now he’s glad to have stability back #at least he’s not competing with his peers anymore #now that people (*cough* Even) actually recognize his capabilities #and are all actively trying to be less terrible to each other after the organization experience #i think the real answer is none of the above and this will never be addressed in canon #side characters 😔#me post

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wxrwounds · 17 hours ago

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"Bully, great another one." Jen continued teasing, eyes narrowing at the nudge as she continued to eat her pizza, pretending to watch the movie that was essentially just background noise at this point. "Jase is just extremely protective, I think it's his oldest sibling complex."

"There was a time where I offered to replace his door with one of those revolving ones." Jenna laughed, remembering the glare she got at the suggestion, didn't help that it was in front of their father who was then concerned at what Jason was doing. "I don't think he is anymore, at least not with people from that side. Less sexual harassment paperwork has been filled out." She chuckled, it had only happened once but she'd never let him live it down. He had been the one reporting someone.

"Things that were taken out after shit happened." She didn't want to speak about it, not over pizza but she would tell him eventually. "You don't need to make up for anything I'm just glad you weren't around for that... It wasn't a good time and Dad never forgave himself for it but... I'll explain another time." She huffed, shoving more pizza in her mouth to stop the talking.

"I just wanted family for the longest time, Like a proper family that did things together and celebrated the holidays and I got that now." She shrugged, feeling a warmth filling her as she thought of all the family she had now. "I don't know if peace is the right word, I mean the kids are grown but theres three little Bartons around and if Sam and Sarah come, theres two more." she shook her head with a smile.

"Yup, Yelena has a bit of a crush but Kate doesn't work like that. More platonic best friends that were enemies I guess." Jenna chuckled, remembering how excited Yelena was to introduce her to Kate when they decided to be friends. "Kate probably would, maybe even Carol but she'd off world at the moment... hmm I wonder who else is single and will be there.." She teased, already playing match maker in her mind.

"Oh such a tough guys huh picking on your sister." She playfully rolled her eyes before finishing the pizza slice off. "Try a new troupe, Jase has the one in the bag, Has for the last twenty two years." It was just sibling things but she also grew tired of it.

"It would be a welcomed change, there was a time where almost every female handler fell in love with him." Jenna gagged, reaching over to the pizza box. "He loved it, I think he fucked most of them too. Oh accidently on-upping him huh? You know he's not an idiot he'd figure that out." She shook her head, already knowing it was such a bad idea but such a good one too. "I'll try and get Banner to schedule the mission soon. He's been asking if you're ready for that but Jase hasn't been sure." In true big brother fashion he wanted to protect Colt for as long as he could.

Her eyes flicked up to Colt, She wasn't sure if her honesty had crossed a line but now that he was here, she wished he'd been here her whole life. "Surely, I know you got everyone's files but not everything is in there ya know." Most of their childhood had been redacted after everything Sharon had done had come out. Like she was sure his files didn't have everything in them.

"Well... typically I go to The Wilsons in Louisiana for christmas. I love Sam's nephews and I end up back at Clints farm after. Spent a lot of time there as a kid, troubled youth can't do too much on a farm, I think Pepper has Thanksgiving covered and that'll probably be at the compound..." She shrugged, it was easier to play fake family with the devils she knew. "Just be nice to Yelena, She'll start throwing knives and if you flirt with Kate, she'll probably poison your dinner." Jenna chuckled, She loved all the new additions.

#sonoftheshield

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iisasxia · 1 month ago

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Bakugo loves to zip up your dresses for you whenever you guys go out.

When you guys went out for the hero awards he happily took his time zipping up the lacey wine red dress you chose to wear, not aware it would be coming off 2 hours later.

Needless to say his favorite part was helping you get ready, strapping on your heels, putting on your bracelets and necklaces. He loved it and he loved you and as your boyfriend he made sure to remind you of that daily.

You had went out again but midday which for him seemed a bit odd with the dress you were wearing, you told him you’d be back around 7:30 to cook late dinner to which he agreed to as long as he could help.

You came on time like you said but he thought it was weird when you asked to take off the dress for you.. he did so anyways with a raised brow that soon turned into two when he realized you asked him to do so.

—

“Kats” you close the door behind you and wait for any sign of him being home.

“Hey you’re home” he stepped out of your shared bedroom and made his way over to you, per usual helping you take off your heels and peppering you with soft kisses.

“Do you wanna shower ? I don’t mind cooking dinner if you wanna relax.” he scanned your face for any sign of exhaustion or discomfort but was a bit confused to see the grin on your face.

You kiss him softly before cupping his face and reassuring him. “M’ okay kats” and you can’t help but smile at the way he loosens up knowing you’re okay, his kisses trailing from the palm of your hand that held his face to your arm and neck..

You were so into it you didn’t realize he was starting to leave hickeys.

“Mm kats..” you softly whisper, trying to get his attention.

“Mm ?”

“I need you to do something for me”

He looked up in curiosity and amusement as to what you might ask. “What is it ?”

“Do you mind unzipping my dress for me ?” You turn around and make sure your hair isn’t in the way.

He paused for a moment, confused at your request considering you usually take your dresses off yourself with no issue. He didn’t oppose to your request and began unzipping your dress.

He stopped for a moment.. “y/n..” you could feel his breath against your skin as he held back from taking you right then and there.

You couldn’t help the smile that made its way to your face. “You like it ?”

There was no response.. he was taking in the fresh tattoo that made its way from the nape of your neck down to the dimples on your back, the tattoo was sexy and he was glad you weren’t facing him to see him practically drooling over both it and you.

“I decided to get one finally but I wanted to surprise you.. I thought you’d-“ and you bit your lip to suppress the moan that nearly left your mouth.

He gently pressed a finger down your spine where the tattoo presented itself. God what did he do to deserve a girlfriend like you is all he could ask himself.

“K-kats it’s sensitive..” you practically whine as he trails his finger back up now placing both his hands on your hips to turn you around.

“I fucking love it.” is all he could say before crashing his lips onto yours, but before he could continue he had to ask.

“How long until it heals ?”

“About 6 months”

You expected him to be upset but the smirk on his face said otherwise.

—

“I don’t mind putting you on your stomach.”

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churipu · 9 months ago

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JJK MEN REACTING TO YOU GETTING LEFT OUT BY YOUR FRIENDS 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, sukuna ryomen, inumaki toge.

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. just jjk men being overprotective of you bye, and cursing.

note. guysssss, no requests pls, they're not open :(( and if you sent one in, i apologize but they're going to take a bit of time to do :(

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

before you did — gojo had already sensed that your friends were shit. believe me when i say that he has tried talking to you about it from the moment you introduced him to them during your weekly "girls night".

but you said that your friends were fine. gojo doesn't think so. ever since that day, every time you said you were going out with your friends; he came along with you, not leaving you out of his sight.

that includes today. your "girls night" or whatever — when you try to convince gojo that he didn't need to come with, but all he said was, "i am one of the girls, aren't i?"

so he came along. and he didn't regret it. not. one. bit.

your friends, he didn't even know how to describe them without slipping in a curse or two. because he couldn't believe you were actually friends with these douchebags. it was plain obvious they were leaving you out on purpose.

whenever you try to chime in the conversation, your voice is immediately toppled over by one of them. or when you try to walk beside them, they step a bit further — on purpose. he could tell.

the male was really glad he could smell the stench from a long time ago. so when you and him were walking behind them, fingers interlocked. he stopped walking, and it made you stop too, "what's wrong, 'toru?"

"let's go," he tugged you in the opposite direction from where your friends are walking to, "they don't deserve you."

the male was very upset for you. he wasted no time driving you home with him, giving you the love you deserved (and a pep talk on why you should never ever talk to your friends again).

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

toji didn't even care whether he knows your friends or not. but when you convinced him that they wanted to meet him, he agreed (begrudgingly).

and everything went south when he noticed the different way they react to you — and to him. you and your friends were a trio.

it's always a trio. he never gets it, he's seen his fair share of shitty friendships among people. that's why he doesn't have friends (or people don't want to befriend him, doesn't matter).

it wasn't even a trio any more. it was a duo, with you on the side. toji noticed the subtle way they share a look to each other whenever you start talking — or the way they nudge each other when you do something. god, it pisses him off.

he swore if you weren't there, he'd resort to violence.

when you excuse yourself to go to the restroom, toji of course takes the chance to give a small talk (straight up threatening) to them. he waved to you vaguely as you walk towards the direction of the restroom.

"don't ever fucking talk to my partner again after this. y'hear me?"

the mood plummeted and you realized after you came back from the restroom. but you said nothing about it.

and like toji threatened, your friends never talked or contacted you ever again. which obviously saddened you — but the male told you how shitty they are and that it was a good thing they're not talking to you anymore.

to this day, you still didn't know it was toji behind it all.

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍

he has no shame in speaking his mind. and he immediately sensed how your friends were treating you differently from the first time he sees them. the male wastes no time giving them the eyes, where he was clearly telling them to fuck off.

when you and your friends (and him) decided to take a break inside a restaurant, he was pissed. sukuna, didn't even want to come with at the first place — he actually forced himself to come for you. he wanted to make sure your friends knew their place.

he has a bold tongue. sukuna is spicy with his words, he could care less about what people think of him. so the second he hears a disrespectful comment from either one of your friends directed to you to make you feel like you're the odd one out, the male glowered at them.

"mind repeating that?" he questions calmly, but something in his voice was intimidating. as if he was about to jump up from his seat and strangle the hell out of your friends.

of course, your friends were silent. afraid of him.

"exactly." the male stood up, tugging you along with him out of the restaurant, "what friends you have."

you were embarrassed at the comment, and sukuna sensed that too. even if he was tempted to say more things about your friends — he held back. for you.

"you don't need friends. what more do you need than me?"

𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄

believe me when i say that he contemplated using his cursed speech technique on your friends. he had seen you come back from a night out with your friends, upset and teary eyed.

and from that day, he's always hated them. so when you said that you were going to hang out with them again — inumaki followed you, trailing after you like a lost puppy.

actually — scratch that, you were the lost puppy. trailing after your friends, behind them like you aren't even a part of the group. if it weren't for inumaki being there, it would just be you alone.

inumaki mutters out a lot of, "salmon" and "tuna mayo" to you. fuming.

you grabbed his hand, swinging it happily. at this point, you didn't even care about your friends — as long as inumaki was there, you didn't feel alone like you used to. so you did what you had to do since long ago.

ditch them.

"thank you for being here, toge."

inumaki was happy now, no longer in a foul mood, and he squeezed your hand, "tuna mayo!"

a little translation: "i'm hungry."

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allurilove · 6 months ago

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Yandere Classmate x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: Headcanons of stalking, obsessive behavior, unhinged man lowkey, sexual fantasies, perverted and lewd behavior, stealing, male masturbation, gender neutral reader, grumpy x sunshine,

*He has no name, and is only referred to as “your classmate” his only existence is to be obsessed with the reader, and without you, he ceases to exist. This yandere classmate is different from the other one I have wrote about. Here is the second part! This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: You wish on a shooting star for a boyfriend. Your classmate has an unhealthy obsession with you, he’s almost entranced, and he follows you around like a lost puppy. He doesn’t know what you have done to him, but he won’t let you go. No, he’ll hunt you down and make sure you’ll stay with him forever.

When you wished to be in a relationship with a man that was utterly obsessed with you— joking or not joking— the universe heard you loud and clear.

It was like he was here on earth just to be with you. Every single part of his body was screaming, clawing, and dragging his feet towards you. It was hard to get close, and near damn annoying that you were surrounded by your friends all the time.

Your classmate was entranced the moment you walked past him, and whenever you did and he heard your sweet laugh… his legs immediately made him get up from his spot to follow you.

You were just the sweetest being he has ever seen. Always nice and kind to others, even if they didn’t deserve it. He felt like he had a responsibility to protect you from assholes that would take advantage of you.

He began to follow you around. Listening in to your conversations, and he would take mental notes of what would make you laugh. He was determined to make you smile, to make you laugh harder than that fool in front of you.

He gave up on his education to pursue you. I mean he was learning�� just happened to skip some of his classes to sneak into yours. You were a more interesting subject anyways. He would sit somewhat far away, and switch it up every time. He didn’t want you to notice him, not yet anyways.

Your classmate really wanted to sit next you, or maybe offer to buy you lunch. When you went to the bathroom, and left your cup on the table, there was a faint lip mark on it. He gulped, his hand slowly reaching for it. If he couldn’t kiss you soon, this was the next best thing. He pressed his lips where yours were previously, his tongue flicking the rim. He savored your saliva, and out of adrenaline he decided to keep the cup all together.

Whenever you were gone, or didn’t come to school that day, he had to visit your locker. It was after gym class, and no one was around as he leaned in to sniff at the little vents. Your scent had been brewing in there for a couple of hours, and he groaned.

He desperately tried to lap up every scent — he inhaled and licked the air— his hands palming the tent in his shorts. If only he knew your locker combination.

Your classmate pulled his shorts down, and his boxers followed suit. He finally freed himself from his confinements, and he rubbed his hand up and down his length. He masturbated at the thought of you often. He only needed an image of you, a scent, or an item of yours. Either way, his dick would be in his hands, twitching and cumming.

When he wasn’t stalking you and literally trying to learn everything about you, he took the liberty to primp himself. He wanted to look good for you after all. He would wake up early, shave and even wax his body clean of body hair, cut his nails, and do shit to his cuticles. He went to the barbershop and got a new hair cut, and made sure his face was clean and shaven. If that wasn’t your thing he would grow it all out.

He was a bit hesitant to do much with his lower body. But he sucked it up and made sure to trim down there too. He wasn’t used to shaving, and had to buy a couple of bandaids. A sanrio bandaid near his crotch.

And he realized he was deeply out of shape. Shit. When you were running on the tracks, so was he. He had to hold his breath to hide his deep and hard breathing. He soon found out he shouldn’t have done that.

You came over to him after he briefly passed out cold on the ground. He slowly opened his eyes, and you came into the view, and he saw a tiny bit up your shorts. That was enough for him to go into a frenzy.

He bought all of the fruits he could find, he read on the internet that the best way to eat someone out, and practice, was to use fruit. The peaches juices were dripping down his neck as he continued to tongue, and devour the hole. He imagined that he was on the ground and you were sitting on his face, his arms would lock you down onto him, making you put your full weight on him. Suffocate him for all he cares, he just wanted to hear you say his name. Or at least acknowledge that he exists.

He isn’t popular like you are, but he has his own group of friends. And by friends, he means your siblings. The only natural way to get close to you, was through your family after all. Plus, if you two were to get married, he already had an in with the family.

It also meant he could see your room. He snuck away for a minute to examine where you slept. He slowly knelt down, his hips aligned with corner of the mattress, and he digs his face into your sheets. His hands gripped the soft plush of your blanket, his cock rubbing against the corner. He whined as wanted more, he just wanted to bury himself deep inside you, and feel your warmth around him. He bets that it would feel like heaven.

Your classmate quickly retracted as he felt a tiny wet spot growing on his pants, his face flushed as he sat back down onto his ass. When he does so, his hands land on a piece of fabric. Out of instinct his hands curl around it and he picked it up, he inspected it and his eyes widens. Your underwear. In his hand.

His hand was tightly gripped around his mouth and the other was around his cock. His back was arched and he locked himself away in your bathroom. He loved the feeling of your underwear rubbing on his tip, and his hips snapped against his hand. He closed his eyes and he imagined you were giving him a handjob instead. Fuck, he just needed to smell you instead. He smelled your underwear, as he climaxed, his cum dribbling on the floor.

When you applied for college, he did too. He found out every single one you wanted to go to from your siblings. He got waitlisted. You got accepted. It wasn’t even a straight up rejection, it wasn’t a yes, and it was just a damn maybe.

He winced, his eyes almost closing as he smiled for the picture. It turned out alright and he paid the fee. A couple of months later, he got his passport in the mail. He booked his flight, and he lied right to your face. He convinced you to get an apartment with him instead of going to a dorm, and he followed you around campus, even though he doesnt have a single class there.

Allure: This is a bit of a different format from how I usually write, and idk how to feel about it lol! Here’s the c.ai link: https://share.character.ai/Wv9R/ondwnvhr

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devosin · 3 months ago

Text

GRIM ACCIDENTLY OUTING YOUR CRUSH ON HIM !! . . grim accidently blurting out how much you love the dorm head . .

gender neutral reader / fluff / crack taken seriously / mutual pinning

a/n: this has been rotting in my idea list for like over 2 years, enjoy! og account: @/cupids-chamber

MALLEUS DRACONIA

Malleus was surprised, when you had decided to tag along on his Gargoyle Study Club meeting, however he was ecstatic with the idea of you joining him, while he talked about his favorite things. Truly an exciting time, talking to his favorite person about his favorite things!

For once he didn't quite mind having no one at the meetings, because he got to spend time with you—and Grim . . he's there too . . In fact, Malleus kind of finds it endearing he stuck around this long with you, listening to him, despite clearly not being interested in the topic.

Malleus walked around, showing you his collection of gargoyles—explaining the extensive history of each one, and you listened, throughout his explanations which most people would find extremely boring, though seeing how passionate he was about the subject, you couldn't help but be engaged.

You followed along behind him, as he showed you each one, Grim on your shoulder, yawning rather loudly—clearly bored with the past hour, where you dragged him into Malleus's club meeting, which you passed off as a 'morale' thing to do—when he can clearly tell you did this because you liked him.

"Ah . . I have something I want to give to you"—Malleus shifted through the drawers, looking for the miniature gargoyles he had made for the both of you (well just you, he figured grim would appreciate something more . . edible . . he got tuna.).

Grim leans in closer to you, whispering rather loudly, so much so you knew Malleus could hear, "henchman, how much longer . . my whiskers are turning white here!!", he whispered all bit dramatically, and you sighed internally, mumbling a soft, "Grim not right now", in response.

After a few more moments of silence, Grim leaned back, and exclaimed, "You seriously like this guy, he likes gargoyles more then I like tuna—"

Grim paused, realizing he spoke a little more than he really should've. . . and Malleus paused, dropping whatever was in his hand to the floor, turning blankly at you, looking at you with a dumbfounded look on his face . . (he's processing, give him a minute.)

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

Riddle isn't the kind of person to intrude in a conversation, especially when he knows he isn't wanted there (debatable)—He also doesn't enjoy listening in on others private conversations . . However, this case is different, obviously he has the right to be curious when you're being so very loud, I mean practically everyone can hear you!

His heels clicked on the floors, as he raced through the halls—Riddle doesn't often find himself in a rush, but lunch had started 5 minutes ago, and he was running behind on his schedule.

His hands gripped his notes tightly, and just as he was about to make a turn, he heard his name . .—Riddle stopped in his tracks, looking around, in order to find the source of the noise, that's when he spotted you . . and grim, who was speaking rather loudly.

Now, Riddle swears he's not purposefully ease-dropping, but Grim was loud. . he was bound to overhear anyways! . . Well that's what he'll keep telling himself, in order to ease the guilt of listening in on your private conversations.

"Riddle?!" Grim exclaimed, waving his little paws around in shock, "out of everyone henchman, you like that—", you covered Grim's mouth with your hand, whispering loudly in response, "Why don't you tell the whole school I like Riddle, Grim?!?"

Riddle paused in response to that, 'you liked him? . . as in romantically? . .', Riddle loses his grip on his notes, in shock. Papers scattered the floor with a thud, and before Riddle could fix the mess he had accidently caused, you turned, and faced him . . This is gonna be one long confessio—conversation.

VIL SCHOENHEIT

See, Vil isn't the kind of person to believe in a rumor or petty gossip that he hears across the halls of Pomefiore, because if there's drama then Octavinelle and Pomefiore are the absolute first at the crime scene—He's well aware of how a small lie and a fake rumor can go and ruin someone's life, which is why Vil prefers information from the source.

That being said, Vil does enjoy gossip—and at time's he draws his own conclusion to a topic, and keeps it to himself, he's on the middle line of it all, but you bet, he'll 'coincidentally' overhear all the drama going on at your family reunion but don't worry, he's amazing with secrets. (Headcanon: he probably pretends not to like gossip, but still listens and reacts when Rook tells him what he overheard)

And this is why Vil couldn't help it but approach Grim when he heard him complaining begrudgingly to himself, about you kicking him out and making him run 'errands' . . which were more likely then not, a distraction.

"Oh it's nothing, henchman just needed privacy . . ya . .", Vil raises a brow, and Grim should've shut down, but when a can of good tuna got involved . . Well a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.

Grim took the can of tuna from Vil, "They're preparing a confession letter", Grim spoke and Vil couldn't help but feel a pang of betrayal at the revelation, how could they like someone else . . When he's breathing! (At least wait till he's cremated, like gosh . . So as long as his body exists, even if he's not breathing, you should love him frfr #hawkmothcore for the win) . .

"To who?", Vil asks, curiously, and Grim stares at him blankly, "I'll give you another can to go—" he offers, "Gimme it right now, and I'll tell ya'".

Vil sighs, handing him another can, "The letter is for ya', henchman likes you—".

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

Now normally, Leona could care less as to what goes on in the botanical garden, while he takes a nap there (mainly because he's too asleep to register his surroundings), because even with his acute sense of hearing, rarely anyone visits, and if they do, they only do so to take a break or catch a breather, or to just immerse themselves in the garden as a sort of escape, so it's usually all quiet and soothing, for the most part.

However, some days he wasn't so lucky, be it students randomly popping in so they could skip class, or to have a picnic, or that random couple, who thinks it'd be a cute and adorable idea to have a date in the botanical garden because no-one goes there, and it's so secretive and the mystery excites them. (he hates, he fucking hates it, he's the biggest hater there is, he despises all couples equally.)

Leona was all comfortable, half-asleep, his eyes were closed as he was ready to just get some shut-eye, sleep for a couple hours—until, he heard footsteps, rather loud ones . . Now, he normally doesn't care, and to be frank, he doesn't care right now, he figured they're taking a small stroll, and will stop . . eventually. (delusional king!!)

"Grim this is ridiculous—", Leona's ears perked up as he heard your voice, now that had his eyes wide open, looking around for you . . Well he's not that curious, as to what you find 'ridiculous' (he's very curious, he needs to know each detail, tell him everything), but he does hope you expand on it.

"C'mon henchmen! The best way to get over someone is confess and get closure?", Grim was confused himself, with whatever he was saying, "Oh yea Grim, which class did you learn that from, romance 101 with Crowley?—", Leona snorts.

"No actually I asked Trien!" Grim says . . a bit too confidently for comfort, "Grim . . I don't think you should be proud of that", you point out.

"Just tell Leona you like him? He's not gonna kill ya"

". . ." Leona froze, . . you liked him? I mean yea that makes sense, he's really attractive, but you—Liked him? . .

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

Azul states that he doesn't favor you that much—although the twins will argue otherwise, especially since Azul got you to taste test the new Monstro Lounge menu items, before he released it . . before even tasting it himself, . . and maybe he didn't want to let it slip that he liked you only—because he ended up also inviting Grim to taste the food with you—And with Crowley's payments . . well you were more than willing to accept free food.

To be fair, Azul is aware you do get a bit more special treatment, and deep-down he's well aware he likes you, but confronting his feelings? in this economy? . . not gonna happen . . He'd rather you assume he's a cat person who likes Grim, because clearly that's what you think of him, since he's so pretty and smart and good at covering his feelings. (He's not, he's boyfailing a little too close to the sun.)

Azul had everything set up—and by that he means, he had a plan and got other people to set it up for him, according to said plan, because he couldn't give away the fact that he had planned it himself, no . . that would make it seem like he was into you, and he'd rather die then you know that—In fact, he'd rather have his tentacles inked dry and cut off, fried and dipped in his ink, and shoved so far down his throat he chokes and dies before that even remotely comes close to happening.

You sat beside Azul, as he asked asked you about the food, and you gave responses that he mostly liked, . . well you did have some comments about the blue cheese rigatoni . . But to be fair, he entrusted the blue cheese to Floyd . .

Grim was half-way through his food, when he randomly spoke, with his mouth rather full, "This is amazing . . I can see why you like this guy henchman . .—" Azul paused and he practically stopped blinking, if his ears could perk up, then it would right now, "—for once your taste in men . . has good justification henchm—" Grim only paused when he recognized your glare, and only then did he realize how badly he fucked up . . "I'm not getting the good tuna for awhile . . am I?"

KALIM AL-ASIM

Kalim doesn't usually come in without an appointment (lies), or before informing you beforehand (lies on top of lies), and he doesn't really like invading your personal time (and lies again) . . at least not knowingly, but today was different . . he wanted to go somewhere with you! It's a surprise, and surely you'd appreciate him randomly popping into your dorm and dragging you outside, in the sunlight like an upstanding citizen and friend.

Kalim settles on the couch in the lounge of Ramshackle, stretching his arms out as he gets comfortable. All the while, Grim stares him down, . . something Kalim noticed off the get-go, "Why are you looking at me like that?", he calls out, confused and a tad bit unnerved at the blatant piercing stare.

"You're the one henchman likes, right? . .—what's your credit score? . . how many cans of tuna are we talking—"

Kalim paused, ". . . what?", he asks blankly, still paused at the first half of Grim's sentence, enough to not notice or take offense to the rest of his words and questions. "Why can't ya' hear me . . ?! I asked what's your credit scor—", grim responds, only to be cut-off mid-sentence by Kalim "BEFORE THAT!"

"That you're the person henchman lik—", Grim pauses as he hears your voice, and as you enter the room, Grim realizes his mistake, "Fuck."

"Kalim act natural!" Grim asks, as he goes back into his usual stance, but as he see's Kalim not moving, . . "who am I kidding . . no one can get shit through to ya' in one go . . I'm fucked."

IDIA SHROUD

Idia had his gaming equipment set up for two, well it would be three—but paws and controllers isn't the most fun thing to play around with, therefore Grim has opted to watching, instead of playing. Which he gets bored of rather fast, and well Ortho preferred to watch his older brother then play, or do normal kid things like advanced calculus.

Although Idia didn't really mind that, he enjoyed playing with you, because you were a really good challenge, a true gamer! . . And with newer games, he found that you listened and got the hang of it fast, and it was fun helping you grow your account on his favorite games, and it was also fun listening to you ramble about your favorite games from your world.

"So yea in genshin impact—", you rambled on and on about the Fontaine chapter, and about the 'archon' which was like the great seven, and how sad her storyline was, Idia dabbled in Lore from time to time, though he really found it amusing how you took the time to describe everything, you really helped immerse him in the storyline, and to be honest, sometimes he could imagine he was playing the game with you.

"—and then if you went into this specific area you could actually hear her cry . . OH oh! . . and when Neuvillette cried, it would like downpour so hard . . ", you continued rambling, and Idia would just listen, so much so that you guys completely forgot the game you were actually playing . . which seemed to upset Grim, who wanted to watch.

"Yea yea . . henchmen, we get it was sad, and it's fun talking to the love of your life—but could we please have more playing and less talking!", Grim explained rather dramatically, his paws flinging up, only to be silenced when he saw the two of you silent, looking at each other . . and then Idia's hair burst up in bright pink flames . .

commissions / discord server / personalized advent calendar

@ devosin , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

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