#genuinely thank fuck i did Not pay for it peace and love

[ash-and-starlight]

HOUSE ON THE CERULEAN SEA WAS BORING AS HELL I SAID WHAT I SAID

I just read what the inspiration for the book was and I rescind my statement it's not boring as hell it's fucking awful

BREAKING OUR SILENCE on ✨tumblr popular queer lit recs✨ fr i was just turning page after page like uh where is the part where it becomes good… spoiler it never does, it only gets Worse bc then you learn the thought process behind it & want to give yourself a diy lobotomy

[cressidagrey]

Holy Ground - Prologue

Summary:

Nobody knew that Azriel found his mate. Until she nearly died. This is the aftermath.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), Inner Circle Bashing (kinda), Referenced/Implied Sexual Assault, Referenced/Implied Domestic Violence, Discussion of Religion(?)

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

Azriel had always liked Starfall. 

Even he could enjoy one night a year where they danced and were merry…where they pretended that everything was just fine. 

Just that this year…he couldn’t quite manage it. 

Feyre had invited Lucien. 

A year after that catastrophic Winter Solstice. 

And for the very first time, Elain…Elain seemed not just willing but genuinely happy to converse with her mate.

*Keep away from her,* Rhys had repeated his order that morning, making it very clear what he wanted his spymaster to do. And Azriel…well, he had acquiesced. 

Of course, he did. 

Nobody had even noticed when he had slipped away…Nobody had wanted to notice. Why should they? They were all content...they were all happy.

Mor's mating bond with Emerie had snapped just weeks before and that had...everybody was so very pleased for her.

*You are not going to ruin this for Mor,* Rhys had snapped into his mind. *She has been through enough.*

Azriel wasn't going to ruin it. 

So he pretended that everything was normal. And then he disappeared silently, and launched himself off the balcony and went flying. He didn't need to think when he did that. Even the shadows kept silent.

The night sky was a velvety black, speckled with countless glittering stars. 

Azriel loved to fly, loved the rush of the wind buffeting his body, the exhilarating feeling of power and freedom. He soared high into the sky, basking in the cool breeze on his face.

At least he had this .

As a child it was all he had wanted. And now...now it was...now it was seemingly the one thing that gave him something close to peace. The last few green sparkling streaks on the sky...Skyfall was nearly over, once again.

He basked in it for a little while. Until he felt the scratch of Rhys' mental claws against his walls.

*Azriel,* Rhys' voice was harsh, sharp, demanding. *Where are you?*

* Out. * Azriel answered simply. * Flying. *

*Come back,* Rhys ordered with a sigh. *Look, I get it. You are angry at me.*

Azriel didn't even bother answering to that, swooping lower and then pushing higher again, revelling in the cold night air.

*Elain and Lucien are figuring things out,* Rhys continued.

* Good for them, * Azriel replied, his tone still bland. * Is there anything else? *

Rhys let out an exasperated breath.

*Azriel...I am sorry,* his brother apologised. *Be angry at me all you like. This would have only ended in heartbreak for you anyway.*

*That should have been my decision to make,* Azriel's voice was cold, curt, brooking no argument.

Rhys sighed. *Not if the political ramifications could have upset an already strained peace,* Rhys snapped. *Be reasonable, Azriel.*

* Are you done? * he asked Rhys drily.

*Azriel... * Rhys' voice was exasperated. *Fine. Be angry with me, if it makes you feel better,* his brother snorted. *If you want to throw a tantrum like a child, be my guest.*

Azriel gritted his teeth. This was not a tantrum. *Great. Thanks.* he shot back at Rhys nonetheless.

*Elain is happy, Azriel,* Rhys said softly. *And you should be happy for her.*

* Fine, * he said, voice toneless. * I am happy for her. What else do you want from me, Rhys? *

*For you to stop sulking,* Rhys replied. *And to come back to the Party.*

*No,* Azriel said simply, making another loop in the sky, feeling the wind rushing past him.

*Azriel,* Rhys growled, his temper shortening. I mean it. 

*I think I'll go to that pleasure hall near the harbour instead,* Azriel said, his voice cold. * After all, if I want to fuck somebody, I should go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, right? *

*Azriel!* his brother snapped, clearly irritated. *That is enough.*

* What? I am just following your orders, High Lord, * Azriel gave back icily.

*You sound like a petulant child.* Rhys snapped.

* Go back to your party, * Azriel said drily. * I'll be just fine. *

Rhys let out a huffing breath. *Fine. Go and pout some more.*

Azriel ignored his brother, closing the connection and feeling his walls snap back into place.He would pout some more. Thank you very much.

Azriel flew higher, ignoring the party, ignoring everything. He pushed his wings faster, harder, revelling in the wind, in the silence, in the stars above him.

The only sound he could hear was his heartbeat, pulsing in his ears, matching the beating of his wings as he flew. He flew and flew and flew, until his muscles ached, until his wings felt heavy.

It was nice. He liked it. He loved it, in fact.

There was a reason he loved flying so much. It was freedom, it was a rush, but most of all it was quiet.

He did go back to the House of Wind…even when he had no plans to go back to that party. He would go to his room and pout some more. Maybe write some more reports.

Do whatever the High Lord expected the Spymaster to do. 

He landed one one of the many, many balconies, recognising the Priestesses’ herb garden with a start. 

"Spymaster."

Azriel froze for a heartbeat, closing his eyes, cursing mentally. He had wanted to come back unnoticed, to slip in silently. But apparently he wasn’t the lucky. 

One of the Priestesses was sitting on the balcony’s ledge. He wasn’t scared that she was going to jup, simply because the balconies were spelled to prevent exactly that. 

Sitting there, wrapped in a thick knitted blanket, with dark brown hair reached her waist was Irena. 

Clotho’s right hand. The one in charge of seemingly all the paperwork that involved the library. All the bureaucracy went over Irena’s desk, all the accounts and acquisitions… 

She was the daughter of one merchant of the midlands, married off to another richer merchant as soon as she had been barely old enough. 

Azriel had met her for the first time two centuries ago. There had been a string of disappearances of young girls in the surrounding areas and his shadows had very quickly found the culprit. 

Azriel had killed her husband…before he could kill Irena. Her husband had had a taste for violence…his young, beautiful wife had been one of his long-suffering victims. 

Azriel had brought her to the library. He hadn’t really thought that she would bloom here as she had…hadn’t thought that a girl raised with a silver spoon in her mouth would be content with in the library. But she was. 

And Irena turned out to be one of those scarily efficient people that could do the job of three people. In two hundred years, she had actually managed to make the House of Wind cost Rhys nearly nothing in upkeep anymore. Thanks to the gardens of the priestesses that kept them in fruits and vegetables and herbs…some of them sold to the vendors in Velaris, some turned into creams and potions in the stillroom, that were also sold…the library was just one thing the priestesses did. Some preferred the stillroom or the gardens or even needle work, knitted sweaters that were handed out to the needy in Velaris.

She had done that. Had bloomed and flourished here. 

"Irena," he finally brought out, his voice hoarse.

She turned to face him for the first time. She had just grown more beautiful over the years…with long dark hair and dark doe eyes sat in a delicate face. 

But all of that didn’t matter anymore. The moment their eyes met...suddenly everything changed.

His priorities were rearranged. All he cared about anymore was her. Was the priestess wrapped in her wool blanket sitting on that balcony ledge…

Irena. 

She was his mate .

" Oh ," she breathed, her brown doe eyes widening near comically large.

Azriel just stared at her, feeling as though even the world had stopped breathing.

His mate .

His mate was sitting in front of him. 

Irena .

Irena was his mate.

"Azriel," she whispered,  her voice was soft, barely more than a whisper.

 They just stared at each other for a long, long time. He stepped closer to her, wanting to touch her, wanting to feel her soft skin beneath his fingers, her soft lips against his. He wanted to pull her close...he wanted...

But Azriel didn't reach out. he didn't want to scare her. Didn't want to corner her. So he simply leant next to the railing a little bit away from her, still staring at her. "I..." he stuttered, trying to come up with he perfect sentence to tell his mate.

"I...I didn't expect that," Irena whispered.

"Me neither," Azriel said quietly, still slightly breathless, the information slowly sinking in.

"But it's not... unwelcome ?" Irena offered next.

"Absolutely not," Azriel said immediately. "I mean..." he said. She looked so small, sitting there on the ledge, wrapped into her blanket. One delicate shoulder poked out of it, only covered by white, near translucent cotton. She must only be wearing her nightdress, he realised suddenly. 

She looked…so young right at that moment. 

"Are you okay?" he asked her quietly, still staring at her, a soft, tender feeling spreading through him.

His . She was his .

Irena closed her eyes with a heavy breath, before nodding hesitantly. "I just....this was..." she said slowly, not daring to look at him. "It was unexpected."

"For both of us," Azriel said quietly, trying to read her expression. Was it...was she happy? Was she upset ?

She nodded, and then bit her lip. "I..." she started and his eyes lingered at that small, plump lip of hers, wishing that he would be the one biting it.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly and he instantly snapped his eyes back up to her face. "Sorry?" he echoed, frowning, because...what was she apologizing for?

"I mean," she continued, her dark brows knitting together as she bit her lip. Oh dear god, Azriel had never wanted to be a lip so much in his life. "I... I don't think I'm what you were expecting ."

Azriel took a breath, ready to assure her that he was positively delighted at the prospect of her being his mate but the words didn't quite leave his lips because...

"Are you dissappointed?" he managed, his hands clenching around the railing. He was scared what her answer would be.

She finally looked at him. Looked into his eyes and Azriel felt the world slow down for a moment, felt his throat tighten as she searched his expression, searching for something.

Whatever she was searching for, she seemed to find it though because she let out a sigh of relief, her lips quirking into a small, self-depreciating smile. "No," she said honestly. Azriel's breath caught at the Genuity on her face. "No, I'm not. But I...I don't know what...if I can ever give you..." Irena said weakly.

He shook his head. "We have time," Azriel promised her fiercely. All the time. They could figure this out at their own pace.

"Time," Irena echoed softly, looking towards the vast, twinkling night sky, the stars reflected in her eyes.

She looked back at him for a moment, and he could see an almost helpless expression in her eyes.

 "I...I don't want to disappoint you,” she said quietly. 

"You couldn’t," Azriel whispered, still staring at her, at the beautiful face of his mate. "Believe me, you never could disappoint me."

She gave him the tiniest smile. She didn't believe him, he knew that. Regardless of how ridiculous it was. She deserved more than him. More than scarred and battered and broken warrior.

"I will never...I will never force you," he promised her softly. "I will never..."

She nodded, but Azriel still saw something like relief flash over her face.

It broke his heart. "You are a good male," she whispered.

"No. I am not," Azriel immediately disagreed, because he knew he wasn't. He couldn't even begin to name all the things he had done, all the horrors he had committed. 

He had killed her husband. That was just one of the things on his long, long list. “You deserve better than me,” he said weakly. 

"You are my mate," Irena murmured softly. "There is nothing better."

"I...have...killed people," he protested. Killed her husband too. though he did think that that male deserved it.

"You did," she agreed. "You are a warrior. A protector. You were the one that saved me" she said quietly.

Irena took a deep breath, and then, slowly, reached out, touching his scarred fingers, running small, delicate fingertips over the back of his hands, and Azriel froze, completely still, hardly able to breath as she slowly traced the scars on his skin.

Her touch was light, but searing, making his skin tingle.

He slowly turned his hand, catching her fingers between his, squeezing gently as he intertwined their hands.

"I will never force you. I will never lay a finger on you. Whatever we do in the future, is your decision," he swore. 

She stared up at him, the stars reflected in her eyes, her cheeks a faint pink.

Beautiful . Azriel thought, mesmerized and completely enraptured.

"I believe you," she whispered and Azriel's breath caught.

From her...that had been hurt so much...to hear that...it was...

"I will protect you," Azriel promised fiercely and her breath hitched as he lifted her hand, carefully, gently pressing his lips to the tips of her fingers. "I will protect you with my life."

She smiled at him then, a real smile, and Azriel felt as though his heart might stop. He had thought her beautiful before, but now, with her face illuminated in all its delicate beauty by the starry night sky...she was breathtaking .

"I...I will need some time to adjust," Irena said softly. Azriel just nodded dumbly, still a little star struck by her smile. "I...I haven't..." Irena said and she turned her head, looking out into the night sky, her hand still in his.

She hesitated, clearly struggling for words, and Azriel felt his heart seize up in his chest. Had he overwhelmed her? Had he pressured her?

"I haven't been with anyone in a long time." she admitted quietly. Irena didn't look at him, but Azriel was still looking at her, taking in her soft, almost angelic features, the slight blush on her cheeks.

He swallowed."I understand," Azriel whispered, and he did. He understood her hesitation, her uncertainty. And he would be patient...he would wait for as long as she needed.

"But...if you wanted to...you know where to find me," she said softly.

Azriel felt as though he was dreaming. He had found his mate, his beautiful, incredible mate, and she had welcomed him, wanted him even, and

Breathe .  He told himself as he tried to calm the hammering of his heart. Breathe .

And slowly, carefully, he nodded, his fingers still interlaced with hers. "I will come to you," he said, his voice husky. "Whenever you want me too."

She was...a gift. A gift he didn't deserve but would treasure always.

Slowly...and so, so very carefully, Azriel stepped closer to her, still holding her hand, before lowering himself slowly down to sit next to her on the ledge. And this close he could sense just how much smaller she was than him, could feel the heat radiating from her body, smell her scent.

Poppies and something sweet and warm like…apple blossoms maybe?

Azriel wanted...gods, he wanted to kiss her.

But he didn't. He just held her hand, trying to memorize every small detail of hers. The curve of her cheek, the soft blush on her skin, her nose, the full lips.... The tiny flecks of gold in her eyes that reflected the stars above them.

She was breathtakingly beautiful

For a moment Azriel forgot where there were, forgot the cold air around them. For a moment there were only the two of them on this ledge, beneath the stars and a soft night sky. And it was...he felt peaceful .

It wasn't a feeling he had a lot. But here, on the ledge, his hand in hers, he felt at peace. And when Irena slowly rested her head on his shoulder, Azriel could feel nothing but utter contentment.

His heart swelled with affection for her, and he carefully rested his cheek against her head, taking a deep breath.

This was real. She was his mate.

She was truly, truly his.

His .

And nobody knew. Nobody had a clue. He could keep her all to himself.

And selfishly...that felt really good.

Nobody was going to have an opinion about them. Nobody needed to know now.

He wanted to keep her a secret. Gods, he wanted to.

She let out a soft, content sigh, her head still resting on his shoulder, and Azriel smiled to himself.

Notes:

If you liked this fic, then kudos, comments or constructive criticism are greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading!

[gece-misin-nesin]

finished act 1 of chapter 39 (the last chapter of the seele arc of 1.5) and my god i am LOVING ITTT!! The lore/scientific explanations are mostly easy to understand, and characters dumb it down for you. The story is gripping. Vita is a fucking queen. But most importantly.

The character dynamics??? are?? amazing????

(rest under the cut)

Like genuinely. Seele-Seele, Seele-Senti, Misteln-Prometheus, Misteln-Kira, Susannah-Kira, Kira-Seele. Shrodinger is a great addition, as someone who hasn't played the Durandal VN and was half paying attention to the Anti Entropy VN. I love how everyone wasn't just chummy with each other. Seele and Senti were taking constant potshots at each other, but had moments where they genuinely connected (Senti giving advice to Seele and Seele THANKING her??), Misteln and Kira is simply peak, Misteln and Prometheus' friendship is great, Susannah being like a little sister to Kira, and of course Seele and Seele are amazing. I'm not going to mention Vita rn bc I haven't finished everything, but she also did fantastically!

Real talk, I think this was one of the main problems of the moon arc. Not only was the cast too big (which is to be expected since it's the finale) but also they were all way too friendly with each other, my drama addicted brain can't pay attention like that. Oh also not understanding most of what was being said in the finale was also not very good i think.

I've already played part 2, and I did Fu Hua's part 2 stuff when I was a new player to get a free Senti so I knew Vita was going to be an antagonist and betray them, and I have to say the queen delivered. The different narration at times and then learning it was Vita? (Well I knew that already, but still) Her attacking Prometheus and talking with Schrodinger? Her musings about how people are always the same in the face of the apocalypse? The "I have never doubted my worthiness to stand against the stars" part and how the characters were thanking Vita for being omniscient, because it meant they were going to win, but internally being unsure and Vita knowing that? Chefs kiss. Her saying that she sincerely would have liked to live with them in peaceful times? Also her "last words" in her fake death being "I love you all"? I think she meant that. Genuinely. Even if not fully, then at least partly. That's what makes all this so beautiful. Everyone's efforts to stop the calamity, Vita dutifully playing the role of the villain AND the narrator. And I haven't finished it yet!! They knocked it out the park with this!!

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

@ckhalloween23

Here is my submission for the Week 2 prompt "Witches"--a preview from a new fic I'm working, Flower of Lemon and Feather of Shrike! I decided to do a deep dive into Yasmine's drastically OOC Season 4 behavior, and explore a scenario where its origin is...a bit more sinister than poor writing or repressed lesbianism aknskfnhdrf

This one isn't just for the YasMoon girlies, but in fact for all the girlies who thought Yasmine Nolastname was big boi screwed over in S4, and deserved better!!! Even the foulest of bitchy bullies don't deserve to be reduced to a trophy girlfriend and a prop for a male character's storyline, especially when said male character is a pretty garbage boyfriend when it comes right down to it </3 (More on that later!!!)

This one is also for the MoonPiper girlies, because god, were we fucked over too D: Also actually (mostly) canon compliant, except H*wkM**n never ever get back together and stay broken up forever and always amen peace and love on planet earth <3 <3 <3 <3

There's no world where I will acknowledge this stupid ship got undeadified like a horrendous, nonsensical, chemistry-devoid zombie when it had long since run its narrative course and played its role in both Eli and Moon's arcs can you tell awehakureyigsrf

This is Moon's POV and Yasmine and Moon-centric, but I left the shippier parts ambiguous since I wanted to make something that my non-shipper friends can enjoy too ^^; There are feelings on Moon's side but as far as I'm concerned that's basically canon lmao like did you SEE that girl in S4??? She was so thirsty for Blondie that I'm genuinely shocked the showrunners didn't tell Hannah Kepple to stop kanhdskufhd Definitely tried to leave Yasmine's feelings more up in the air, though! Interpret her however you like ^^

Fic preview under the cut! As always, moodboard pic credits available upon request!

***

The phone line cuts off, and Yasmine’s name disappears from the screen.

Moon curls into her pillow, erupting in ragged sobs. She can’t remember the last time she’s felt this helpless.

This entirely consumed by pure, raw emotion.

Her mind is a whirlpool, everything Yasmine spat at her twisting around and around and around. None of it seems real.

Because Moon can’t wrap around her head around meaning nothing to Yasmine. She can’t make sense of a world where she was only a pawn—someone for the repressed queen bee to “experiment” with. Someone to cater to Yasmine’s whims and fulfill her every desire and ask nothing in return.

Yasmine was everything to Moon. Moon was nothing to Yasmine. And how did that make any fucking sense?

Moon’s hands knot into the covers, a scream ripping from her throat. Somewhere amid the blinding torrent of heartbreak and rage, she finds herself tearing incense sticks from her drawers and lighting candles with shaking hands.

She always swore to herself she’d never touch the rear section of her spellbook, pages marked with a black tab. But if Yasmine can’t keep her promises, why should Moon?

Her chest burns as she recites the incantation.

“By flower of lemon and feather of shrike I bid you know what this pain is like”

*

“Maybe we could meet in the middle? Like a…sexual Venn diagram?”

Yasmine’s face twists in disgust. Moon only rolls her eyes.

She would tell Demetri to stop being a creep, but she knows he doesn’t mean it. Just playing the part he thinks he should after girls have started noticing him.

And Moon knows what it’s like to hide your authentic self to better fit a mold. She’s eternally thankful Piper taught her better.

“So what’s under the blanket?” she prompts.

As Demetri begins his demonstration, Yasmine’s expression shifts. “Not bad. My parents might not have to pay for an A this time.”

Moon can’t help feeling a bit surprised.

So Yasmine’s taking the “be a little nicer” advice to heart, at least. A hint of gratitude toward anyone is a first.

And then the soccer ball comes.

Her panic strips away her new cordiality. Moon knows exactly where her friend’s mind goes.

She’s about to be the “dumb blonde” again—the vapid, useless pretty girl who always has to bribe her way to a pass. And it makes her feel so disgustingly helpless.

“Do you have another one?” A last-ditch attempt to save her grade without her family’s intervention.

As she watches the altercation play out, Moon could slice the tension between Hawk and Demetri with a knife. She’s never quite fancied herself an empath, but there’s something hauntingly familiar about the way Demetri’s entire body is trembling.

She sees herself, hunched up and bawling her eyes out. She sees the overpowering grief that tore free a side Moon didn’t even know she had.

Thank the gods nothing came of that episode.

When Sam arrives, Moon gives her a pleading look. Off she goes to rescue their big-mouthed friend, prepared to cut into Hawk with all the steel Moon could never quite work up.

“Are we gonna fail?”

The whisper in Moon’s ear is so lost. So broken.

Yasmine’s always been a mess. Moon supposes she should be flattered she’s one of the only people who’s ever gotten to see it.

“No.” She sighs. “Demetri’s smart. He’ll figure something out.”

*

“You’ll never guess what I saw yesterday.”

Sam leans over at the start of history class, smirk dancing across her lips.

“What?”

“Yasmine and Demetri are a thing.”

Moon knits her brow, confused.

“What’re you talking about?”

Sam sniggers. “I turned a corner in the hall and saw them making out, clear as day.”

Despite her best efforts, she can’t hide her alarm.

“Oh my god. Does she know he’s…?”

Demetri’s passes at Yasmine weren’t exactly genuine. Moon always thought Yas would be more intuitive about that sort of thing, especially considering the way she talked about Demetri when he first started hanging out with them.

“He’s what?”

“Um…never mind.”

It wasn’t Moon’s place to divulge Demetri’s business, especially when he hadn’t even figured it out himself. Or…didn’t want to admit certain things to himself, at least.

“Yasmine was pissed when Miguel and I caught them,” Sam goes on. “It was so funny. She insisted she’d never go out with him, but…you know. Unless you slipped me some LSD at lunch and I’m hallucinating, I have my doubts.”

She laughs again, clearly tickled pink by the whole thing. Moon only frowns.

“I’m so confused. All she’s ever done is complain about him.”

Her friend shrugs. “Denial’s not just a river in Egypt, I guess.”

“No, like. She thinks basically every single one of his interests is annoying. And she told me once that listening to him talk is like when you hit your brakes too fast and your whole car screeches.”

“Well, you know Yas. She thinks she’ll combust if she says something nice about anyone.”

“Right, but…” Moon narrows her eyes. “She’s picky as hell when it comes to dating. I, um…I would know. And Demetri’s the furthest possible thing from her type.”

“Opposites attract?”

“Not like that. I saw him try to explain basic particle physics to her one time and she nearly went to sleep. And that’s only the tip of the iceberg.”

“Maybe it’s just a physical thing. We both know how crazy hormones can be, right?”

Moon hopes for Yasmine’s sake that Sam is right. Otherwise…

Well, there’s probably no need to entertain that possibility.

*

“I love it when you talk nerdy.”

Moon’s so caught up in Yasmine’s sweeping, graceful movements that it takes a moment for the statement to sink in.

She always smiles when she watches her best friend. She can’t help it. Yasmine moves like a mountain waterfall—majestic and larger than life, all while flowing so seamlessly.

It isn’t until Yasmine lets Demetri pull her in, giggling like an elementary schooler, that Moon’s smile falls.

No, you don’t.

Because Moon knows Yasmine, and she knows she has a hatred for “nerd shit” that could rival Hawk at his worst.

She despises anything that makes her feel small. Unimportant. Insignificant.

Moon remembers the look on Yasmine’s face when Sam leaned away from their popular table, exchanging easy chemistry banter with Aisha. She remembers the dejected pout when lunchroom conversations turned to AP homework, Sam and Demetri so engrossed in what Yasmine called “stupid school garbage” that they forgot the blonde girl was even there.

Because as much as Yasmine makes out like she couldn’t care less about anything, she doesn’t like to be reminded that she isn’t book smart. That the math and science that come naturally to Sam and Aisha and Demetri and even Hawk don’t make a lick of sense to her.

Sure, Demetri’s knowledge was useful when it got Yas a good grade. But on its own?

It only reminds her how inadequate she feels. How inadequate Moon knows she’s always felt.

And it was good, in a way, that Aisha tearing Yasmine’s popularity asunder showed her that the world didn’t revolve around her. But Moon senses the deep hurt Yasmine still carries, seeing glimpses of the worlds she’ll never know how to be part of.

So when Yasmine says she loves Demetri’s “nerdspeak,” lust and desire rolling off her in waves, it feels like she was the victim of some Freaky Friday body swap.

People change. Of course they do.

But not like this. Not enough to forget their very sense of self.

“Save me a seat at lunch? Specifically…this one?”

The smack of Yasmine’s hand hitting Demetri’s asscheek reverberates through the hall. Moon has to laugh at the sheer absurdity.

Yasmine hasn’t lost her fire in some ways, at least.

And Demetri doesn’t seem to mind. Perhaps Moon’s assumption was wrong.

She and Yasmine head off to class, her friend fawning nonstop over her geeky boyfriend. Moon smiles and nods along, pushing down the unease swimming in her chest.

Moon picks up a whiff of Yasmine’s perfume, and realizes that it’s lemonflower.

*

Dragging Yasmine away from Demetri at the prom is like trying to bathe a cat.

Moon finally gets her alone after a few songs, suggesting they grab some punch for Demetri and the others. Yasmine eagerly agrees, her entire being lighting up at the thought of doing her boyfriend even a miniscule favor.

There’s something unsettling in the way it’s so mind-bogglingly different from the Yasmine of a few months ago, who would rather chug drain cleaner Heather Chandler style than revolve her entire being around the needs of some boy.

Maybe there’s a way to breach the subject without arousing suspicion.

“I can’t believe you flew all the way back from Australia.” Moon forces a laugh as she ladles punch into Yasmine’s cup. “I didn’t know you were that into him.”

“Oh, Moon!” Yasmine giggles, leaning her head on Moon’s shoulder. “I’m in love.”

She tries not to think about how soft Yasmine’s hair feels against her skin.

“And the dress, too!” Moon reminds herself that Yasmine is very happily spoken for. “You really went all out. It’s kind of cute how you’re embracing nerddom for him.”

Odd, but cute. That’s what Moon has to tell herself.

“You think he liked it?” Yasmine leaned back, twirling around. “It’s not too much, right? I don’t want to seem like I’m trying too hard to impress him. I know guys aren’t into that kind of thing.”

Moon has to laugh again.

“Since when do you care what guys like?”

“Since I found one worth caring about, obviously.”

She sighs, a faraway look in her gray-green eyes. Perhaps she really is in love.

It’s just that Moon always imagined love would feel deeper than this.

“I’m sure Demetri loved it,” Moon concedes. “He’s really happy you came back for him. I can tell.”

“Funny, when I first showed up, he and Hawk were huddled off in some corner brooding, like the idiots couldn’t just dance with each other if they wanted. Almost felt bad taking Hawk’s boyfriend away.”

She snickers, and Moon feels strange.

She decides to change the subject.

“It’s crazy. I mean, imagine what you would’ve said a year ago if I told you you’d be smitten with Demetri Alexopoulos at junior prom. I remember when we first started talking again, you must’ve bitched for twenty minutes about that time he hit on you at your birthday party.”

Yasmine’s silent for a moment.

“He was being a creep.” There’s a steely edge to her voice that wasn’t there before. “He says he’s been watching me from across the lunchroom and I’m supposed to be flattered by that?! Like, dude, who even are you? Why are you talking to me?”

Moon raises her eyebrows.

“A couple weeks ago in science you were gushing about how sweet the ‘admirer from afar’ thing was.”

“Did I?”

Yasmine scowls in disgust. Just underneath it, Moon could swear she picks up a streak of panic.

“Yeah! He kept blowing you kisses across the room, and you giggled so loud that Mrs. Elmes yelled at you, remember?”

“Oh, god. That’s embarrassing.”

She says it like it’s some undignified moment caught on camera at a party—tripping and spilling her drink on someone, or the like. An odd way to talk about a behavior she has more often than not these days.

“He’s still such a weirdo.” Moon wonders if she’s imagining the trace of the Old Yasmine’s scorn. “He’s so, like, awkward about it when he puts his hands on me to dance. Like he’s scared my weird girl body is gonna burn him like a hot plate or something. I mean, we’ve been dating for four months!”

Moon’s stomach squirms.

“Probably just doesn’t want to do anything you might not be comfortable with,” she says quickly.

“He could freaking ask.” Yasmine curls her lip. “But I don’t even think it’s that. He’s an uncoordinated mess. He can’t dance for shit, and I have to do all the work.”

“Hey, don’t be mean!” Moon elbows her gently. “All this stuff is new to him. He never had a girlfriend before you.”

“Yeah. And it shows. Half the time I can’t even tell if he’s like…enjoying himself, you know?”

Yasmine grunts, reaching up and itching the side of her head. The strobe lights catch on something falling from her hair.

Her expression abruptly shifts.

“Oh, my poor baby!” she gasps. “We’ve been leaving him hanging over there, haven’t we? I miss him already. Come on, I’m gonna cry if we miss the slow dance.”

And just like that, the disdain is gone. Yasmine bustles off, snatching her punch and sweeping back onto the dance floor.

Moon looks down at the table, and her eyes land on a gray feather.

A tiny thing, from a tiny, fierce little bird. Beak hooked, meant for killing and piercing like a raptor. Loud, screaming, crass. Unrefined. Ready to jump to violence at the slightest provocation, especially when it gave them an excuse to show off.

Everything Yasmine isn’t.

And, ironically, everything Demetri wants.

Moon’s gaze drifts back and forth between the dance floor—where Yasmine and Demetri have resumed their grinding—and the corner where Hawk stands alone. Hawk’s eyes don’t leave his best friend once.

And, every once in a while, Demetri looks back. Yasmine is none the wiser.

Moon stiffens, guilt trickling over her like hot wax before a hair removal. She downs the rest of her punch in one gulp before going outside and calling an Uber.

I’m such a fucking bitch.

Whatever Demetri and Yasmine get up to at the afterparty, she doesn’t want to be around for it.

*

“So how are things with Demetri?”

Moon keeps her tone light as they finish their food court tacos, but she sees the new charm bracelet around Yasmine’s wrist. And she knows damn well what that means.

“He’s so annoying.” Yasmine wastes no time diving into a rant. “He never fucking listens. I try to talk about stuff I care about or that I think is interesting, and he’s always acting distracted or changing the subject or whatever. I was telling him this cool thing I read online about the history of georgette skirts, and he didn’t ask a single follow-up question. I’ll bet the world’s shittiest sponge is better at retaining crap than him.”

“Sheesh.” Moon makes a face. “I’m sorry. Boys are the worst sometimes.”

“And that’s not even all.” Apparently Yasmine wasn’t finished. “Not ten minutes later, he’s rambling on and on about this blaster thing he unlocked in some video game. It was the verbal equivalent of having cement poured directly into my brain. And he has the nerve to call me boring?!”

“He did?” Moon scowls, genuinely peeved. “That’s so rude!”

Perhaps Demetri wasn’t as sweet and thoughtful as he always came across.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Yasmine frowns right back. “So he gets all snippy with me because he’s being a soggy paper towel of a human being and obviously I’m zoning out. He starts quizzing me on all the dumb bullshit he was blathering about, and I finally snap and tell him he’s boring me out of my fucking mind. And then he gives this whole speech about how at least he’s spending his free time learning strategy and problem-solving and hand-eye coordination, and all I’m doing is looking at clothes online.”

They walk over to the trash and throw out their taco wrappers. With both hands free, Yasmine’s free to gesture more fully and furiously.

“Girl, I got so mad that I called him an antisocial freak and told him he was damn lucky I ever gave him a shot. That was probably kind of messed up, but whatever. Sam doesn’t cut him down to size enough, so I have to pick up the slack. Anyways, I was storming out of the restaurant, but he did the following-and-groveling thing. And sure enough, we ended up at Kay again.”

Yasmine looks down at her bracelet-clogged arm, a forlorn expression swimming over her pretty features.

“I don’t know why I keep letting this happen.” She sighs. “It’s like trying to plug up a boat leak with fucking office tape.”

“Why don’t you break up with him?”

“I wish I could!” Moon’s caught off-guard by the genuine despair lacing Yasmine’s words. “I’ve rehearsed the speech a billion times. But…every time I’m around him, it’s like I’m hit with some kind of emotional tidal wave. And suddenly I can’t bear the thought of ending things.”

She looks so lost. So frantic. So helpless.

“I see him and all I can think about is how much I want him,” she goes on. “No room for anything else. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and it freaks me out.”

Once upon a time, Moon might have called that love. She knows better now.

She wants to reach across the table and take Yasmine’s hand. Reassure her that this is what overpowering teenage crushes are like. That of course your mind finds ways to make hormones and attraction centered around one person seem like the be-all end-all of everything. Hell, she remembers feeling that way about Hawk before she came down from the high and realized how incompatible they were.

But Moon doesn’t. She can’t.

“Something’s not right with me, Moon.” Yasmine’s voice is quiet and fragile—a tone Moon hasn’t heard for a long time. “Sometimes, I don’t—I don’t feel like myself. You remember that week you were in Cancun? I went to the mall with Sam and Demetri, and Sam was complimenting the lemon balm perfume I had on, but you know I never wear lemon-scented shit. Like what am I, a cleaning product?!”

Moon laughs, gladly taking Yasmine’s implicit offer to lighten the atmosphere.

That was one thing Moon always appreciated about her. She never passed up an opportunity to use snarky bluntness to make a joke out of something unpleasant.

It’s part of why her and Demetri’s connection hadn’t surprised Moon. At least not initially.

The strange thing was that their bond got as far as it did.

“At first I thought it was because something stuck to me when I walked through the perfume section of Macy’s,” Yasmine goes on. “But we all went through there, and I couldn’t smell any lemon shit on Sam and Demetri. Am I going crazy or what?”

Moon pushes away the sinking feeling in her chest.

“Maybe it’s Sam who’s imagining things.”

“That’s what I thought, too.” Yasmine’s voice grows terse with panic. “But then Demetri starts bragging about how I always wear the lemon perfume when I go out on dates with him. With the air of someone who, like, actually believes what they’re saying. And I don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.”

“Like Demetri knows anything about perfumes. He probably got it mixed up with that bergamot one you like.”

Her reassurance doesn’t appear to work.

“Whatever,” Yasmine huffs. “Let’s talk about something else, yeah?”

Moon lets Demetri slip from the conversation, fading into mental oblivion as they leave the food court and head for H&M. Yasmine brightens almost immediately, losing herself gushing over cute pink dresses and fuzzy purple sweaters and champagne-tinted heels. The afternoon passes easily, sliding in and out of changing rooms and twirling and laughing in front of department store mirrors.

For a while, Moon can almost forget the overpowering fear emanating from her closest friend. She can almost forget feeling like the world’s cruelest sociopath.

*

When Moon knocks on the door to 44101 Portico Place for the first time in months, she’s only half expecting an answer.

It’s 5:00 on a Wednesday, so plenty of time for any after-school extracurriculars to finish up. But, of course, showing up anywhere unannounced always has the potential to go disastrously wrong.

Demetri helped her develop a healthy dose of pessimism. She isn’t sure whether to be grateful.

The door opens after only a couple minutes.

“Moonshine? What’s going on?”

Moon offers a strained smile. “Hey, Pipes.”

Piper frowns at her across the threshold, looking more concerned than angry. It makes Moon feel all the guiltier.

“Is everything okay?” Piper asks.

“Sorry to bother you. It’s—it’s about Yasmine. And you’re one of the only people I felt like I could ask.”

She winces at the flash of hurt in Piper’s face. Her ex leans on the doorframe, crossing her arms and cocking an eyebrow.

“Go on,” she says, tone resigned.

“So…” Moon takes a breath. “Remember when you said you couldn’t be with me until I figured my feelings for Yasmine out?”

“Yeah?”

“I…may have done some light spellcasting and accidentally hexed her into falling in love with a gay guy.”

Piper blinks a few times, taking a moment to process everything. Finally she groans, running a hand over her face.

“Jesus Christ, Moon. Come in—I’ll get us both some fucking edibles for this.”

Piper’s living room is exactly how Moon remembers it—cream-colored couches, tasteful wall décor, chic modern fireplace. A goofy, surfboard-shaped coffee table that Piper’s parents had once tried to sell at a yard sale, but little Piper screamed and cried and beat the ground with her fists until they relented to keeping her favorite piece of furniture.

Now, Moon props her sandaled feet up on a bar that runs underneath it. The metal is cold against her skin.

She tries to focus on that. Sensations in the here and now. Things immediate and tangible.

Not the abstract mess she’s caused.

Piper returns after a few minutes, placing a glass of carrot ginger lemonade and a small gummy on a coaster. Moon picks up the gummy, tentatively taking a nibble.

Piper chuckles. “Don’t worry, it’s not that many mils. I don’t want us to be totally baked.”

Moon takes a more generous bite.

“So.” Piper sits next to her and takes a sip of her own concoction—some kind of purplish whey smoothie. “What did you do?”

Moon gathers her thoughts, working through how best to phrase it.

“You remember when we first met?”

“Sure.” Piper smiles thinly. “Our parents dragged us to that dumb gala, and I found you sobbing your eyes out in the bathroom because your ex-best-friend threw you out like you were nothing. And then I went on to find you have a terrible habit of swooning over the world’s most horrendous shitbags.”

She lets out a small laugh. “I guess so, huh?”

Piper rolls her eyes. “I told you. Over and over and over.”

“I know, I know.” Moon sighs, wearily admitting defeat. “About a week before that party, Yasmine and I had a phone call. And she just…cut into me. Said so many awful things. And I get it. I mean, her sweet sixteen got ruined and then as like…icing on the cake, I ditched her for the people she hated. But I don’t think anyone���s ever broken me down like that before.”

Piper tosses a comforting arm around her shoulder. For a moment, they’re back on tile floors under harsh fluorescent lighting, puffing blunts and snickering about fake people.

“I know,” Piper says softly. “And when I found you, you were still pretty shaken from it. I hope I helped.”

Despite herself, Moon leans into her.

“You helped more than you know.”

“Clearly not enough to stop you from going out and doing some sort of supernatural fuckery.”

Moon laughs softly. “That’s the thing, though. I think it was already too late.”

“What do you mean?”

She takes a breath.

“That night, after Yasmine hung up on me…I don’t know. It felt like my whole life shattered. I guess in a moment of weakness, I pulled out my spellbook.”

Piper narrows her eyes. “You said you only ever used that thing to ‘cleanse the house of bad energy’ or whatever. Or give yourself good luck charms on tests. Not—”

“—cursing people, I know,” Moon finishes. “I was so upset that I wasn’t thinking straight. I recited this whole incantation that was supposed to make Yasmine know how it felt to want someone who would never want her back. And, um…I guess the love gods interpreted that as her getting down bad for a guy who doesn’t even like women.”

“Wait. Isn’t that the same guy who did an MTV-style roast of your weird ex that one time?”

Moon sighs wearily. “That’s Demetri all right.”

“I knew it.” Piper pounds her fist into the couch triumphantly. “Of course he’s gay. Straight dudes don’t pull that kind of petty shit.”

“He’s not exactly subtle, is he?”

“Nope.”

It’s Piper’s turn to sigh, eyeing Moon with an almost pitying look.

“Are you sure Yasmine doesn’t genuinely like him, and just has a shit gaydar? Or she’s really deep in denial? I know I’ve pined after my fair share of straight girls.”

Moon shakes her head. “I second-guessed myself for a long while. Thought maybe I was wrong about Demetri. Or maybe Yasmine had changed so much that she really is into the whole geek shtick now. But…”

She takes a long sip of her carrot ginger lemonade, hoping the intense flavor will somehow give her strength.

“She acts like an entirely different person whenever we’re with him. And…not really in a good ‘he makes her want to be better’ type of way. More like she’s forgotten everything she likes and every aspect of her being that isn’t related to her boyfriend.”

Piper stares at an abstract, avant-garde wall painting, deep in thought.

“Maybe she’s, like, stuck in a codependence loop,” she says. “You said she was pretty clingy with you freshman and sophomore year, right?”

“That was different, though. She acted one way alone with me and one way out in public, sure. But it made sense. Whenever we see Demetri, it’s like Yasmine’s being mind-controlled by one of those thirsty freshmen who think Demetri’s the hottest guy in school because he won a karate fight one time. Then as soon as I get Yas alone, she doesn’t seem to remember half of what she said or did. And when I fill her in, she gets super embarrassed. Not that Yas can’t put on a façade if she needs, but…why would she intentionally make an idiot of herself if she’s gonna be mortified an hour later? She’s not impulsive like that.”

Piper shrugs. “Hormones make people act stupid. I did some truly absurd shit the first time I was trying to get chicks to notice me.”

“Hormones don’t make you go into a weird trance that your brain bleaches right after. People only wish that happened.”

“Maybe Yasmine’s lucky enough to have a brain that can bleach on command,” says Piper cheekily. “Or maybe she’s way too proud to admit she’s being dumb over a boy, so she tries to like…will it out of existence through not acknowledging it.”

“It’s not just about the embarrassment, though.” Moon sucks in her breath. “Every time she realizes about the memory gaps, she’s scared. Like she knows something’s wrong with her.”

Piper groans, leaning back against the couch and sprawling her arms across a cushion. “Can we prove she’s not being a diva? Leave it to Yasmine to make a fucking ocean’s worth of fuss about the same teen angst literally everyone deals with.”

Moon winces at the scorn in Piper’s voice.

It really is a shitty move, asking her ex-girlfriend for help with a girl she knows Piper can’t stand. That Piper has a damn good reason to hate. Assuming the worst about Yasmine’s romance troubles is only fair.

But what other choice did Moon have? It’s not like her scientifically-minded friends, with their AP classes and their blocked chakras, would believe her about a magic spell gone awry.

“She starts smelling like the spell components whenever she’s near Demetri,” Moon says flatly. “And a couple of them came out of her hair. It’s not stuff she’d ever wear otherwise.”

Piper sits back up, suddenly fully alert with her arms crossed.

“You could have led with that.”

“I thought the weird, erratic behavior was more important!”

“As if I’d have a hard time believing that girl would have mood swings.” Piper’s grimace falters slightly as she rolls her eyes. “Like. Moonshine, that’s your type.”

“Shut up!”

Moon swats her. Piper chuckles briefly before her expression grows pained again.

She processes everything for a moment, groaning again and putting her face in her hand.

“Christ, girl,” she mumbles. “If this is real…yeah, that’s a pretty big fuckup. I’m not the biggest Yasmine fan, but yeesh.”

“I know.” Moon makes a face. “Trust me, I never meant to mess with her mind like that, but—”

“—you were hurting so much that you did anyway.”

“…more or less. I think, deep down, I didn’t believe anything would happen. It was to make me feel better in the moment.”

“Yeah, I know you.” Piper looks up, offering her a small smile. “I think you’d have an easier time permanently giving up smoothies than intentionally hurting someone.”

“I just feel so awful!” Moon wails, guilt bubbling up and erupting out of her like a volcano. “I know Yasmine hasn’t been the best person, but she should be able to at least choose who she loves. Even if that’s never going to be me.”

“So…did you come here so I could make you feel better?” Piper scrutinizes her. “Because I won’t lie—I’m kind of at a loss right now.”

“I don’t know.” Moon sighs again. “I came here because you’re the only person I trust who I figured would like…entertain this whole thing. Anyone else would call me crazy.”

Because at the end of the day, Piper may be rough-edged and butch and intimidating, but she’s open-minded. She’s willing to hear anyone’s point of view, and tries to embrace every walk of life. And she’s never one to dismiss possibilities outright, no matter how absurd they sound. No matter how “weird” the people saying them are.

It’s part of what initially drew the two of them together. Well…that and acai bowls.

“Right. So you want solutions.”

It’s almost embarrassing how fast Piper deduces it.

“That…that would be great.”

Piper takes a long sip of her health smoothie, slurps echoing around the room.

“Seems like a proximity thing. You said she acts more lucid when she’s away from Demetri, right?”

“Right.”

“So make plans to hang out, get her alone, and snap her out of it.”

Moon bites her lip. “I’m, uh…not sure how.”

“Demetri makes her act like she’s not herself, so…” Piper shrugs. “Remind her who she really is.”

Moon chuckles hollowly.

“That’s the other thing. I don’t entirely dislike the person she’s become thanks to the…Demetri thing. She’s a lot nicer, for one. And less judgmental.”

Piper seems to be holding back laughter.

“So…you want Yasmine to be her true self and get her free will back and all, but you’re worried that when she does…she’ll be someone you and everyone else will personally find less palatable?”

Moon glowers at her. “Well, when you say it like that, it sounds bad!”

A snicker finally worms its way out.

“Yeah, because it’s an incredibly shady thing to say.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Moon huffs. “Look, isn’t there some way to undo the spell without undoing her growth? Because like…in a weird way, I feel like she has grown as a person since she got magicked into being obsessed with Demetri. Is that bad?”

“Not necessarily, but you’re being awfully picky for someone who doesn’t even know if or how they can reverse their own paranormal fuck-up.”

“I thought you might know of a way to do some kind of partial reversal. Make her stop being crazy about Demetri, but keep some of the good ways she’s changed?”

“Sooooo.” Piper slurps more of her smoothie, expression growing insufferably smug. “Considering that fucking around with the nuance of this already-opaque-sounding spell is an objectively terrible idea…the way I see it, you have two options. You can break the spell and let Yasmine be whoever she wants, even if it’s someone who kind of sucks. Or you can leave her to be this weird enigmatic love curse’s braindead meat puppet for the rest of her days—with the perk that she’s more pleasant to be around. So what’s it gonna be, Moonshine?”

“But surely there’s some way to—”

“Uh-uh.” Piper cuts her off. “Look, I don’t know any more about this stuff than you do, but I doubt we’re talking about a spectrum here. Can’t have your cake and eat it too and all that. Either we lift the curse, or we don’t, so…what do you want to do?”

After a long moment, Moon sighs.

“I want Yasmine to be free.”

“So you need to do what I said. Remind her who she really is.”

“Even if…‘who she really is’ turns out to be mean and self-centered and kind of awful?”

“Eeyup. That’s Yasmine. Take her or leave her.”

“Even if it undoes all her personal growth from the last year?”

“That’s the conundrum, isn’t it?” Piper leans nonchalantly against the back of the couch, arm on the headboard. “We don’t know how much of that was the spell, and how much was the real Yasmine wanting to improve herself. So we gotta let the real Yasmine out and hope for the best, yeah?”

Moon looks down at her lap and smiles, shaking her head. “People won’t be too thrilled to have her back.”

“Then that’s going to be her problem, not yours. If you’re such a bitch that you need magic intervention to make you tolerable, then maybe you deserve to lose all your friends.”

It sounds harsh, but Moon can’t argue.

“Hey, c’mon.” Piper scoots over, playfully nudging Moon’s side. “I know how much you cared about her. That’s why it felt like your world was ending when she cut you off. And why you were still hung up on her while we were together. So there must’ve been something in there you thought was worth fighting for.”

And of course there was.

Because this was Yasmine. The same Yasmine who danced like a dork and smiled with dimples as soon as no one was watching. The same Yasmine who yanked Moon into every single one of her snapchat stories, no matter how mundane. The same Yasmine who didn’t think twice about defending Moon’s honor when she thought Sam was talking shit, and told Sam to get the hell out of Moon’s Benz.

The same Yasmine who talked about her and Moon as a single intertwined unit. Unfathomable to her as something that would ever split, until that fateful night on the beach. The same Yasmine who trusted that wherever one of them went, the other would follow.

Sure, there was plenty about her that was cruel and vindictive and conceited. And she’d spent her time at West Valley High so drunk on her own power that she kept digging herself a deeper and deeper grave, earning the hatred of most of her classmates. Good looks could only got you so far when you leaked poison and bile from every pore in your body.

But who is Moon to decide which traits Yasmine gets to keep, and which are magicked away? Who is Moon to remold Yasmine into a watered-down, docile amalgamation of what had once been her assets, when not so long ago, Moon fell in love with the entire picture?

And now Yasmine’s a hollowed-out shell of a person, all empty smiles and lifeless giggles. A painting cobbled together by some computer program—beautiful and polished and splendid on the surface, but a closer look reveals the details are all off.

A closer look reveals something without a soul, no light behind those sharp gray-green eyes.

“Fuck,” Moon says miserably, head sliding into her hands. “I want my best friend back.”

“So go get her back, then.” Piper nudges her again. “And maybe go easy on the evil curses this time? I don’t know, just a suggestion.”

“Oh, stop.” Moon scoffs, but there’s no real venom in it.

Piper rolls her eyes, although not unfondly.

“I wish I’d known you back then.” She laughs, shaking her head. “I could’ve told you from the jump that fucking with the occult was a bad idea. Yes, even when a girl breaks your heart. Which, in my opinion, is the highest and most profound type of pain.”

“Naturally.”

Moon sighs wearily, smile fading.

“I don’t know if anyone could’ve stopped me, honestly. When she—when she broke what we had, it was like I’d fallen into some rushing river and I could barely keep my head up. And I was headed right for one of those tall waterfalls with sharp rocks at the bottom from adventure movies. For whatever reason, lashing out felt like the only way to get a breath of air.”

Piper hums thoughtfully.

“I will say that this all makes me feel better about how I reacted the first time someone rejected me. I liked this girl Lila in the sixth grade, and when she found out, she called me a fat ugly dyke in front of all her friends. So I filled her locker with sweaty gym clothes.”

Moon wrinkles her nose as Piper cackles. “Ew, Pipes! You’re disgusting!”

“Okay, but I don’t summon Satan to make my crush want to fuck a gay guy senseless.”

“I did not summon Satan—”

“Sorry, Satan’s right-hand man Joe the Sexual Orientation Confuser.”

“Imagine if there were demons that actually did that.” The concept is admittedly intriguing. “They get sent up from the underworld or wherever solely to make cosmically cursed straights fall in love with cosmically cursed gays. And cosmically cursed gays fall in love with cosmically cursed straights.”

“Shit.” Piper grimaces again. “Wonder what I did to piss Joe off.”

“You’ve really liked that many straight girls?” Moon has to giggle.

“You have no idea,” Piper mumbles. “And trust me—your ex wasn’t the first guy to assume I played for the other team.”

“Not sure his heart was in that one. I think he wanted get a rise out of me, honestly. No offense.”

“Oh my god. The sheer irony.”

“He really thought I’d get jealous of my own girlfriend. As if there’s any girl I’d care about my unserious two-month fling hitting on.”

And then they’re both laughing, swaying on the couch and clutching at one another to keep from toppling over.

“Hi, I’m your run-of-the-mill punk poser and I think I get more ass than a proctologist!” Piper grabs the couch arm, attempting to do dramatic poses as she talks. “I know you’re frantic to have me back, even though my only skills are yelling and punching my friends for no reason!”

“Stoooop.” Despite herself, Moon only laughs harder. It’s probably just the edible finally kicking in. “You’re so rude!”

“Like your ex even knows how not to be an inappropriate, boundary-crossing weirdo.”

“He’s getting better!”

“Because he’s finally learning after his 7th attempt that asking a girl you just met to fondle your gelled-up hairdo isn’t going to wield results.”

“He wouldn’t—”

“He totally would, though!”

Moon snickers, shaking her head.

“Fine, yeah. He would.”

As the laughter dies down, Piper’s phone buzzes. She picks it up, frowning as she reads a text on her home screen.

“Hey, I gotta run soon. One of the kids from the dojo is hosting pizza night.”

“Oh, right. How’s that going?”

It’s amusing, really, how easy it is to forget Piper’s in Cobra Kai now. If the dojo’s truly the all-powerful, all-corrupting force Eli claims, then Moon’s ex-girlfriend must be entirely immune. Even if she and Piper haven’t spoken in a while, Moon hasn’t seen any evidence whatsoever of Piper caving to some kind of deeply-buried inner asshole.

Not that it was buried too deep, in Eli’s case.

“It’s fun. Good exercise during the gymnastics off-season.” Piper shrugs. “Some of the people in my class take it way too seriously, though. Like it’s high school karate, not the fucking Cuban missile crisis!”

“Yeah, that’s what I’ve heard.” Moon makes a face. “I was…kind of worried for you when I heard you joined. They treat it like a cult.”

“Oh, please.” Piper scoffs. “Like I’d ever buy into those sorts of stupid dramatics. I mean, don’t get me wrong—it can be fun to spar with people who’re so intense about it that they act like their fucking life is on the line. Makes things interesting. But I’m mostly there for the free shit.”

“Really?” Moon cocks an eyebrow. “You always seem so excited on your snapchats.”

“Yeah, like, it’s good energy. Everyone’s super passionate. But it gets to be a little much sometimes, you know? The senseis treat it like this huge life-or-death thing. Like sure, placing in a global tournament would be cool, but it’s not that big a deal? And sometimes I wonder how much my teammates are actually, like, enjoying themselves, and how much they’re stressing over nothing.” Piper purses her lips disdainfully. “Honestly? I’m going to rack up as much free equipment as I can, and then I’m gonna ditch them for Topanga or something. They seem way more chill.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Moon frowns. “I know they can go psycho when someone quits. Look what happened to Hawk.”

“Any of those bitches come at me with a razor and I’ll beat their ass into next week.” Piper rolls her eyes, unfazed.  “And what the hell are the senseis going to do? Call the cops on me for quitting their dojo? They’ll get laughed off the phone.”

“Just…be careful. I don’t want Cobra Kai hurting anyone else I care about.”

Before she can stop herself, she reaches out and squeezes Piper’s hand. The other girl turns and fixes her with a pale green gaze, expression unreadable.

“Okay,” she says quietly, tone turning serious.

Piper’s phone buzzes again, and the moment ends.

“Damn,” she mutters, glancing at her texts. “I forgot I said I’d bring jaeger bombs. I’d better get ready.”

“Oh, sorry.” Moon pulls away, embarrassed. “I don’t mean to take up too much of your time.”

“Don’t worry about it. I hope I could help.”

They stand up, and Piper starts to walk her out. Moon stares at the floor, suddenly feeling anxious again.

She stops right before they reach the front door. “What you said to do with Yasmine…what if it doesn’t work?”

“You better hope it does, because otherwise you’re going to have to consult the dark web or something. And then you’ll have to wade through about 70 sites with the most degenerate porn you’ve ever seen before finding anything useful.”

Moon laughs, tension easing.

“I guess I’ll deal with that when it happens. Or if.”

“Exactly. One thing at a time.”

“Well…I’ll let you go.” Moon offers Piper one last smile, opening the front door. “Have fun at your pizza party, okay?”

She’s halfway onto the porch when Piper catches her wrist, pulling her back.

“Hey, Moonshine…”

She turns. “Yeah?”

“I meant what I said before.” Piper bites her lip, meeting Moon’s eyes nervously. “About, um…if you sort through this whole Yasmine thing, and you ever decide you want to try again…all you have to do is ask.”

The surprise on Moon’s face must throw her for a loop.

“I mean, I’m not saying I’m going to sit on my ass waiting around,” she amends quickly, grip loosening. “I can’t promise I won’t move on. And I’m not, like, some piney mess who’s got nothing better to do than try and ‘win you back’ or whatever. But if you’re ever feeling it, and Yasmine’s not an issue anymore…just ask. The worst I’ll do is say no.”

And before Moon knows what she’s doing, she steps back inside and wraps Piper in a tight hug.

“Thank you,” she murmurs into the thick, bushy hair she remembers loving so much. “For helping. You didn’t have to, and I appreciate it.”

“I know.” Slowly but surely, Piper hugs her back. “But someone has to check you before you cause some domino effect that sends half the school into a sexuality crisis.”

***

Some author's notes, in no particular order:

I will literally die on the hill that Demetri is a bad boyfriend. All he's ever done IN CANON has been to objectify and generally be gross with Yasmine??? And the lead up to the whole icky "sexual venn diagram" comment was basically "hey, you should settle for me because I'm popular now and everyone thinks you're a laughingstock <3" Like wow! What a great way to treat the girl you're supposed to be "101% in love with"! And in S4 onwards he doesn't appear to know jack shit ABOUT her and just puts her on this pedestal as his "dream girl" while never actually mentioning anything about her personality.

I'm honestly not surprised that the natural progression of their relationship in S5 was (most likely) Yasmine getting fed up with Demetri not giving any visible shits about who she is as a person, and getting into fights with him the second she starts asserting her own wants and needs outside of him. And of course he gets her shallow jewelry gifts to placate her, which is just further proof he doesn't know her at all--it reads like he just saw on the internet that "girls like jewelry." And it's not like it actually solves anything, considering he's gotten her so many apology gifts that she can "barely lift her arm"! Tbh it pisses me off to not end that people whine and bitch about Demetri being a "bad friend" (which is so easily disproved it's not even funny) and don't make a peep about the gross way he treats his own fucking canon love interest. Please roast my trash son Demetri Alexopoulos for the RIGHT reasons!!!

I really did my damndest to keep Yasmine as canon-compliant as possible here. I do think she and Moon messed around in S1 and no one will ever be able to convince me otherwise, but I tried to keep everything we see of her here consistent with how she acts onscreen in seasons 1, 3, and 5. Season 4 is the obvious odd man out, which...needless to say is kinda the point XD But you take S4 out of the mix and accept some weird fluke was going on that was making her act that way, and we get something semi-plausible to work with! Hopefully she comes across as in-character (from what little we see of her!) here.

Also she does not love it when Demetri talks nerdy. Aisha and Sam's S1 salt conversation proves that she is not about it when people talk about nerdy school-related shit that reads like an inside joke she can't get in on (which applies to...most school-related things, considering she's shown to be kind of book dumb). She loves when Demetri gets her good grades, but she doesn't like. Have any inherent interest in school-related "nerdy" things??? And has never been shown to??? "Character development" shouldn't come out of nowhere and involve characters randomly getting into things they have never been shown to be drawn to actually!

I also hope I did an okay job writing Piper here! I wish I could write more MoonPiper, but we get!!! So ANNOYINGLY little of them and of Piper in general??? Like seriously, I went back and rewatched all the Piper scenes in the show, and there's like. Maybe 5 or 6 in THE WHOLE SHOW??? I barely have anything to work with and it is AGGRAVATING because I really love Piper and MoonPiper as a ship!!! And I want to do it justice that isn't just me projecting my own headcanons and theories because I don't know what else to do!!!

I really do think Piper is Not As Invested in Cobra Kai as everyone else though, lmao. Like she is there for shits and giggles, and also free merch. She respects herself too much to become a slave to the "cobra kai for life" bullshit lol

It IS incredibly funny to me that Moon gets more homoerotic scenes with her Super Totally Straight Best Friend than with the girl who was canonically her girlfriend. Like I love both ships, I really do, but when they give Yas and Moon SO many fruity scenes while their boyfriends are also being fruity, what did they EXPECT!!! Of COURSE I'm going to write YasMoon like my life depends on it!!!

Also, Moon saw that nacho nonsense with Hawk and Demetri in S2. She saw Hawk yank Demetri onstage during Valley Fest. She saw Hawk get all snippy about Demetri hitting on girls at the beach. She saw Hawk throw a hissy fit because his boyfriend bestie wouldn't join his evil dojo. She damn well knows they're gay!

And so does Piper ajadhskufbhd these girls weren't born yesterday!

Hoping to get this entire fic up on AO3 sometime in November! :3

[mcfallen-god]

My tavs, a (long) post

Aesthetics and backstories above ✨

(yes too many, no you can't judge me, yes I play them all once in a while, no I haven't completed the game yet with any of them, yes I also have a game as Astarion, no you still can't judge me, yes I tell you shut the fuck up with most genuine and tender love)

Lothithil, high-elf, warlock, he/they, chaotic neutral

Lothithil is an orphan (maybe his parents died in a silly accident or murdered or he is a refugee from somewhere for some reason, neither Lothithil nor I know nor really care).

He was found by an inn keeper around Baldur's Gate (Lothithil has very, very little memory of how and where the human found him, he just remembers living with him for some years)

The man who picked him up was a human and had the boy working at the inn through Lothithil's early years. The inn owner is not exactly a perfect good guy, he had never been violent and treated Lothithil bad, but he is a gambler and tended to have a lot of debts.

One day he gambled too big for his own good and he couldn't afford to repay the guys he was in debt to. So, naturally, these guys came and threatened to burn his inn if he didn’t pay. He begged them to spare the inn and offered Lothithil instead. And just like this, the boy went from hand to hand.

The boy felt a bit betrayed at first, but as he thought it out, he never got involved emotionally with the man, neither did the innkeeper. They were not family to begin with. He offered the kid a shelter, food and a place to sleep. After all Lothithil was but a stray dog to the human. So he never exactly felt mad at him, just thankful for the time he spent at the inn, but he never really held grudge (and being a long-live beings help to put things into perspective, he now just looks kind of fondly at his years at the inn).

With the group of thugs, Lothithil learnt to lie and to steal (the guys kinda liked him, the boy was resourceful, charming and fun).

After some years, those guys – who were mostly human or at least aged like humans – turned old. As they eventually aged and retired – just left Baldur’s Gate, got arrested or died anyway – Lothithil was teenish and parted way with them.

He then met a couple of human warlock, who offered him to come with them. He was more or less adopted by them and joined their family. They had very small ‘cult’ where all of them were warlocks and shared the same patron. Lothithil choose to become a warlock as well and to join the ‘cult’.

Though, they all remained humans, aging and eventually passing away. Their children took after them to carry their little cult on, but Lothithil decided to leave.

Now he is almost an adult in terms of high-elf age, and he has enough resources to get his own ass out of mess and all. He doesn’t have any specific goal in life, he just likes to hang in there, sometimes on the roads, sometimes in the city. He likes to meet people and learn about their stories, he likes to mingle with them and have some fun (*wink wonk*), but he remains relatively without ties.

He is not aromantic, but maybe demi-romantic. He is really at ease with sex and is opened to many things. He is pansexual, kind-of switch but he likes it when he has his p*ssy stuffed lol.

Ash/Lith (DU), half-high-elf, bard, they/them, neutral evil

Ash (Lith) is my Dark Urge.

Their early life was happy and peaceful. Ash’s parents were two gentle, humble humans who found the baby by their little cottage’s door. Back then, Ash had another name, but they never ever used it again after the ‘event’...

It happened one night, the whole day Ash suffered a terrible fever and, through their sleep, they heard it. The dark urge calling.

Everything happened pretty quickly, and when Ash came back to his senses, they were standing in the middle of an inferno, the little cottage burning madly and the both corpse of their parents were ripped at their feet. Wet blood gleaming under the raging flames.

Ash felt disoriented, looking at their hands covered in blood and at the two dead bodies; they couldn’t *feel* anything. As a joist broke and crashed on Ash, half of their face and their left eye were burnt. It took them out of the torpor and they ran out of the blaze.

They stayed by the burning house, looking at flames until it died as well. From the ashes, they took their new name. The dark urge remained strong within them after that, and turned them rather insensitive and disconnected from their feelings, apathetic.

They are completely aromantic, and probably something like demi-sexual, as they are actually turned on by violence, murder, lies and generally by situation like: people witnessing the results of their crime without knowing it is Ash’s doing.

After the tadpole event, even if they wake up without any memories, they feel at ease with the killing urge and love the little itch it is to them.

Willow/Tathar, half-wood-elf, paladin, they/them, neutral good

Willow (Tathar) lived their early life with their father, their human parent (he gave birth to Willow, as both mom and dad are actually trans characters).

Willow’s mother and father sincerely loved each other, but knowing he will age and eventually die way faster than her, they both agree they should parted. Though, dad hardly ever let go of his feelings for her, while she, being an elven kind, got easily detached. Yet, when mom left, she didn't know dad was pregnant (neither did dad). Dad never got angry with mom, and never really tried to find her either. He understood that elves have a different emotional attachment due to their long life expectancy. And dad knew to begin with, at the start of their relationship, that it would end this way, they enjoyed their love story, but it was just impossible for them to stay together forever, obviously.

Dad always was very sincere with Willow and explained how happy mom and him were and how they parted on an a common agreement. He  also explain how he will eventually die when Willow is still young.

The both of them lived a happy and quiet life, for many years, but as dad started to age way faster than Willow, he had to have a talk with his child about their future. Father encouraged Willow to go connect with their elvish culture. As they never grew up among wood elf, Willow have some (many) things they don't know about their own origins and traditions.

Willow hardly agreed at first, but they quickly understood their father just wanted his child to have ties with their mother’s side. They promised they will left and wandered the world to learn about their culture, but only after their father is gone. They stayed at dad's side as he aged and passed away. It was their father who made them pick a god to worship. With such a patron, father was sure Willow would be safe after he left this world.

Now, Willow wander and feel eager to learn about their other mother's side, they are not especially trying to find her, as she is basically a nobody to them, but at least to learn about wood elf’s habits and customs.

Willow is a bit silly, very kind hearted. Thy can't bear injustice and don’t mind to hit first talk after if the situation requires so. They have no issues to kill, but they rather only kills the bad guys. They are a very enthusiastic person in terms of relationship, but has a hard time to label and bounder the said relationship. A friend can be a lover or a sexual partner alike. It is not mean, it is not absence of caring, but they just genuinely don’t know the limits, but if you explain very clearly and straightforwardly you look for an exclusive relationship, they will understand, but I’m not sure they will stick with you on a one-to-one relationship. Thus, Willow is clearly pansexual and polyamory.

Perslay, human, bard, he/him, true neutral

Perslay has the plainest backstory.

He is born from human parents, themselves part of a theatre company. He grew up in Baldur's Gate with them and the troupe. He started to be part of their show at a young age and he always meant to be a people entertainer. He never really went into an actual adventure ever, though he travelled with the troupe and can definitely fight for himself.

When his parents retired due to aging, and settled down in Baldur’s Gate for good, Perslay left and travelled with another company. Him and his parents are not in bad terms, he is just naturally independent and eager to perform on stage or in the street.

He only really was punched into adventure kind of travel because of the mind flayer’s abduction...

Perslay’s grumpiness and rather selfish temper makes him a bit hard-to-befriend person, but he is not completely heartless either. If you learn how to handle him, if you successfully pass through his attitude and become his friend, he will be your best ally and kill for you. But if you decide to betray him, you better be prepared man.

He is not exactly a warry person, he is more like: no matter who you are, what is your business, can you help with my problem? Come on, wanna try to stop me? Get lost.

He is very, very homosexually gay and loves big, strong men. Perslay is that one gay friend gossiping with his she friends about you. He never fell in love, but doesn’t mind trying; in the meanwhile he is a pretty sexually active guy.

Macyra, tiefling, sorcerer, she/her, lawful good

Macyra is homeless and alone; as her homeplace had been attacked and destroyed by humans. It happened when she was young and doesn’t remember much of the original event that triggers the conflict, but she remembers her father taking her sister and herself and taking them out of the house. The little village was burning and everyone was running away.  They got separated at some point, her father letting go of her and she had been dragged away by the running crowd. She doesn’t know if they are dead or alive.

After the tragedy, Macyra roamed with a couple of other young Tieflings, in the wild. At some point, they met with an old woman, a sorcerer Drow living by herself in the wood. She saved them and raised them rightfully. The Drow taught them to hear and use their natural magic.

She also taught them to always remember their origins, but to not feel restricted by it; she warned them that humans would never fully accepted them, as their appearance is the stigma of their ancestors’ misbehaviour and it is not a reason to prove them right. One should be judged on their own actions and not on their kins or kinds actions.

These teachings never left Macyra as she grew up and left the Drow’s side to wander the world by herself.

In every time and place, she uses her natural magic to work for people and to try to make them see her – and her kind – as less threatening.

As she travels, she tries to find any information about her father or her sister, unable to give up on them.

Macyra is a quiet and rather serious woman. She enjoys books, calm time, and she hardly just knows how to ‘have fun’ but she is not against it. She is just kind of hard to herself, socially clumsy and always does things like taming her voice, her moves, her actions to be sure to not frighten  people around her. She is naturally tall and large, and her whole appearance can be a bit scary for those not used to the sight of a Tiefling, but she is a good girl.

She is an helpless romantic, even if she never allowed herself to indulge in the warmth of romance. Macyra is not ace, but she is a bit impressed by sex and, since she is naturally large, she knows she can easily frighten partners. She never thought about her romantic label and thinks she can probably be with anyone as long as she fell for them, so you can consider her as a pansexual. Also, she might be very romantic, she is not opposed to the idea of polyamory.

Jas, githyanki, barbarian, he/him, chaotic neutral

Jas is just a… kind of himbo? Or more like he-bimbo?

Nothing goes in his mind really. Eating and using his strength is all he understands, and cares about.

Oh and he absolutely LOVES silver things (plate, forks, weapon and coins alike).

He will do whatever you ask him if you are persuasive enough, unless it is the opposite of what he wants.

About his young years, he has a rather classical life for a githyanki. Fight and fight and win fight and one day, ride a dragon kind of life.

After the mind flayer’s abduction, he sticks to Lae’zel. She is like him. She looks pretty. She is strong. She can fold him in half. She is githyanki with a brain.

She is not ugly and kid of scary like the long nose guys and the horned dudes.

He hardly grasps the concept of romantic attraction, but is really happy at anyone able to give him a good time, pegging him down, regardless of gender.

Veylin, half-drow, warlock, he/him, chaotic neutral

Veilyn is an orphan Drow (half elf, half Drow actually, but that is fact unknown to himself) who was raised in the Underdark.

As an orphan, he ended up "employed" (basically a slave) at the house of a rich and powerful Drow's couple.

He was their "boy-who-do-everything"; cleaning, cooking, shopping, and other dirtier jobs: like cleaning after their ‘parties’ (if you know what I mean), or if the couple had an enemy, Veylin was sent to assassinate them over the night.

At some point, Veylin grew exhausted of this lifestyle; especially since he is not exactly well treated, being fed with left overs or little dishes, being physically punished when his work is not good enough – or when one of them is just upset –, assisting to all kinds of debauchery, and having absolutely no freedom.

One day, another slave decided to riot. They teamed up with other slaves and started to fight with those who were still loyal to the Drow’s couple. It all was a big mess.

People fighting, slaves running away, house burning, authority coming to try to settle the shit down. But, in the end, Veylin used that opportunity to run away.

By then, he is barely a young adult who knows nothing from the outside world, apart from its existence. He is barely able to read; but he knows how to speak basic, since the Drow couple had many kind of visitors and he had to learn how to serve the guests well. He has good assassin’s skills, he can cook.

Though, he never ever saw something as shiny as the sun ever, so when he finally, firstly reached the outside world, he was scared by sight of so many light and hid back for a while. As night came, he saw the light going down and wandered out. It was a shock for him, that the outside world can be sometime so full of light and sometimes so dark.

Veylin started to travel, mostly at night, because he is more at ease with the darkness. At some point, he met with another traveller, their encounter was a bit chaotic at first, as the other traveller was a green-skinned woman Tiefling with long, curved horns and dancing tail. Veylin never ever met a Tiefling before, and he felt a bit freaked out, but the Tiefling was kind and patient enough to help and explain. She explained about her kind and listened to Veylin’s story; she also warned him about how Drow were perceived in this world and he should learn to act accordingly. They parted ways at the next village, after she showed him the basics of life here.

After the abduction, Veylin’s main goal is to get rid of the tadpole at every cost.

He won his freedom and he craves to keep it. He will kill and fight his way out of anything without hesitation in the name of his own freedom. On his journey, he will learn how to make friend, open to others and – most importantly – entrust others, but it is not an easy thing for him.

Veylin is still young, unexperienced in terms of love, but experienced in terms of sex. He doesn’t mind the gender of his partners, but he definitely is a bottom.

Kiaran, drow, wizard, she/her, neutral good

Kiaran is an old Drow lady who values knowledge and culture above anything. She lived part of her young years in the Underdark with her mother. One day, a man came in their life, a human wizard. He was kind and wise, he initially visited the Underdark for his researches, but fell in love with Kiaran’s mother and stayed with them. He was kind to the little girl and taught her the base of his knowledge. Kiaran liked him and his words a lot, they could spent all days together, reading books and learning magic, he said she was really talented!

It was a nice period. After some years, the human proposed the two Drow to come with him, back to the outside world. They agreed.

Kiaran was still young, but she clearly remember the amazement it was to her, to discover so many new things. They installed with him in his laboratory, on the edge of a village. More nice years passed peacefully; even though the villagers weren’t so happy to have ‘dark elves’ so close to their homes, the old wizard always managed to keep peace in the neighbourhood.

But the wizard was an old human and he eventually passed away when Kiaran was still young. As he was not there anymore to protect them from the villagers, then the tragedy occurred.

They came and threatened them, wanting to force them away. Kiaran’s mother refused, saying they have as much right to stay there as these humans. They disagreed, but left them be. For now.

The head of the village paid a mercenary to come and get rid of them. The man acted at night, locking all doors and windows from outside, and set fire to the laboratory while the two Drow were sleeping. They woke up and tried to get out, but all the exists were blocked. So, Kiran’s mother took her daughter and ran upstairs, and from one of these windows, she throw the girl out.

Kiaran survived, but had her face and body burnt, and had other injuries from the fall. Her mother died in the house, alongside with all the old wizard’s books, notes and knowledge.

After that day, Kiaran decided to never ever let anyone look down on her or treat her bad regarding her appearance or origins. She wanders the world to learn always more and more, she also take on herself to educate people the soft or hard way on her journey.

She is basically your local mommy; bisexual, and kinda dome-like, she doesn’t mind her partner’s preferred role, she can do it all.

[a-s-levynn]

from the curious asks: 3, 15, 26?

Ooooh hey there! Thank you for asking!! 🫂💖I hoep you have a lovely day!

3. Do you like the person you feel like you’re becoming? This is not easy to put to words. In general i don't like the person i am. Ever. But i think i see myself in a far worse light than i am probably at, at this point. I like that i'm trying to be someone i actually would like to have around but i am terrified of the idea that it might not be genuin. Which feels like a contradiction. I'm unsure. I like the chosen path but i don't think i'm ever going to actually like myself. And it's not even a confidence thing, because i'm very aware of myself.

15. Do you get wanderlust? Where do you want to go? This is so clishé but anywhere there is large bodies of water where i can't see land on the horizon. I don't know what it is about the see and ocean that draws me but it does. But alas, i'm in a painfully landlocked place.

26. What does your favorite tattoo mean to you? Or if you had to get a tattoo, what would it be? Why? As of yet i only have but one. But i guess a storytime is due about my ST tattoo i guess. But in short. ST means more than i thought in a roundabout way.

So storytime incoming so i think i'll put a cut here because it is long. Like actually long. And i'm too tired to check for typoos right now but i hope it is still readable. But I'm serious, it is very long. You have been warned.

There is a few things coming together into it. I wanted to have a tattoo since i know there are things such as tattoos exist. I never really had the money but even if i'd had i was so indecisive i hade no idea what to have.

Now my ST journey was a weird little thing. And it kinda sounds made up but it's not. It just has weird little coincidences. I think i shared a short version a few months back but this is a bit more detailed account of the events.

First i got aware of the them around when the Sundowning started to release. I'm not remembering exactly but i know i've seen an article about some new music which caught my eye because of Vessel in the original mask.

Pretty much a visual i thoroughly enjoy. So i opted to check out what this thing is. And this is why i think there wasn't much of Sundowning out yet because i did not vibed with it. At all. And the EP's were so far from what i was needing musically back that time. There was one track i kinda liked musically, i know i listened to it a couple of times but that's it. I was still hurt and angry and i needed to drown out noise. So i noted that the looks are cool, the dude had a nice voice it's just not for me.

A few months later a friend of mine sent me a video edit which had a song under it. I never bothered to look up the original. But i listened to that one downloaded track a lot since then.

Que 2021 and the release of Alkaline. I watched it. I know i watched the video. I know i liked it but didn't really connected it back to that nieche weird project with the masked dude because it was so different. And i still wasn't really paying attention, so i moved on to other artists and forgot about it.

And about a year later i was sitting alone in the park i used to hang out when i skipped classes at uni in a particularly shitty day insted of doing anything. It was one of those days when i was floating in a self haterd fueled lonely depressed existencial crisis monstrosity of moment. Which were not rare by any means. The depression part not the sitting in the park part. It was just a particularly shitty one and i wanted to feed ducks to feel something. There was stuff happening. It was a lot. I love that park because it has a pond with a bunch of ducks you can feed. It's peaceful. Anyway all day i had this meoldy in my head and i had no idea what the fuck it was. It annoyed the shit out of me because i didn't know what it was.

So when i went home i started searching to find it before i actually drive myself crazy with it. It took my mind off of what was going on. And that is how i found the offering. That was the one thing i liked when i first got aware of ST. And the instrumental melody of that track was what got somehow pulled out of my subconscious. And something finally clicked. So i went through all the materials. Imagine my bafflement when i realized i listened to an ST song since my friend sent me that stupid edit. It was sugar.

Then of course i checked out tpwbyt over which i'm still hitting myself because it could have been the part of my life sooner if i don't get distracted from alkaline. But yeah that's when i finally paid attention to the lyrics. Pretty much that was the day i finally came around to ST and they became a regular in my listening history because it helped me with my emotions. But i was yet to be insane about them.

But i noticed how much it actually helped me with processing and understanding my feelings in general to listen to their music and thinking about it in relation to myself and i made miles of progress on my own with a set of headphones which 10+ years worth of therapy couldn't even touch. And that is when the idea of the tattoo started to form in my head.

I knew i wanted something that represented my journey to come around to ST. Because in a was i think i had to grew up to it. Or be ready for it. So i wanted something from the era i first got aware of them. And in the end i choose the cover art of the first ep. Because that was the last one of the discography i understood yet it was basically the first thing i heard from them. And then there the flying seeds part of the artwork which kind of felt like these little connecting point. The visuals being eyecatching, me listening to sugar unknowingly, offering coming to my rescue. Little seeds that blossomed into my love for ST.

I also had the idea to have either worship or nothing-lats-forever incorporated but i had no idea how yet. The former one because duh, worship, the second one because it is so true, but i was leaning towards worship from the start. Also the runes were coming with track by track along with tmbte and by the end i was hunting for a better version of the apparition art when there were leaks of track titles and art because i needed that freaking P to finally be able to figure out my tatto. And it was perfect because i wanted something new in it to reflect on the journey of me arriving to this point. And the runes were perfect in that sense.

The idea behind the placement on the underside of my forearm is very simply coming from praying as a nod to the quite heavy religious imagery of ST. I am not religious so i don't really pray but the idea came from that. I mean my tattoo is mostly only visible if i raise my hand and you usually raise your hand at a live show. ST hawing rituals as live shows, we basically worshipping, all that jazz. So it's a nod to that. And the placement kind of decided that i have to rearrenge the art a bit as well.

The last bit is the old sigil insted of the new. Now that is a purely visual decision, because the current one would be too busy of a design in the overall of the tatto.. When i had everything i sent an email to a tattooshop before i went to work and i already had an answer when i arrived in. I called the artist in my next smokebreak to ask for an appointment. She was free the next morning, and the rest is history.

And in retrospect not long after i've seen them live for the fist time (actually twice in 3 days) and that was an experience. I don't know what happend during Higher but the last time i felt something akin to that is when i was 5 and experienced a full solar eclipse. I can't put it to words. But something happend. Something just slid into place in my brain. That is probably why i'm so sure by now that Higher is my favourite track. And i am very much insane about them ever since as you can see.

I'm sorry this got so long, but i never really wrote down my road to st in a detailed manner and it was very fun for me to actually follow back my own path, so thank you so much for the opportunity. And thank you so much if any of you read through this wall of text.

[cannabisexual]

As a late 20s living in the early 20s, what's your opinion on this decade so far?

hoo boy, what a question that is. first off, thanks for asking! i guess it's kind of a tale of two lived experiences, because the contrast is just that extreme.

on one hand, i'm finally at a place in my life where i finally feel like i'm properly stepping into the world and living more or less how i want to. i've got a pretty solid teaching job, a loving spouse, four lovely pets, and the two of us were lucky enough to barely afford a down payment on a relatively cheap house back in 2021. also, i feel way more comfortable in my sexuality and gender identity than i ever have in the past, so that gives me great peace of mind as well. it has taken a long time to get to where i am today, and in that sense i'm happier than i ever have been before. i know my place in this world, and life is good.

...on the other hand, however, i have serious concerns about the future. we have all these fucking asshats in control all over the world, some literally older than TV, and all of whom seem hell-bent on ending all life on earth as we know it just because their precious feelings are hurt too much. these motherfuckers are gambling on a future they will never live long enough to see, and will never face the long-term consequences of their actions, such as they are. i have spent so much of my life working my ass off as a 1st generation immigrant to the US, always trying my best to do the right thing to get to where i am. in large part, i have greatly succeeded. i did everything that was ever expected of me and more, with the general expectation that i had a more-or-less guaranteed future ahead of me as I was guided through life early on. seeing these self-important dickheads callously treating other people like they're garbage makes me really angry.

i have always wanted children, and i still do, but at the moment i'm not convinced this world will be one worth raising them in anymore. or at least, one that will inspire the same kinds of dreams and wonder and excitement that i once had as a child myself, and to an extent still do. sometimes i consider what's going on around me and go "what is the point anymore", and that's a real fucking shame. we should all be looking forward to tomorrow, but unfortunately that is hardly the case for anyone.

none of this even begins to address current geopolitical conflicts/tensions, all of the systemic issues we have in the world, and the amount of discriminatory and racist legislation being shoved through much of the country i live in. all of it has had a severe impact on my mental health. i could go on, but i'd be here for hours.

so yeah, that's my general outlook on life and the world around me. on a personal level, things are going reasonably well, but in the grand scheme of things we probably are might be fucked. call me naive, but i figured that in this day and age humanity might have finally gotten its shit together long enough to secure our species's continued existence, especially as a survivor of an attempted ethnic cleansing/genocide. after what my people and i went through, i didn't think it'd be possible to see humans treat each other like that again. but no, clearly i was a fool for thinking like that. there are too many selfish assholes out there who clearly didn't pay attention to "sharing is caring" in school and want nothing but whatever benefits them and their sphere of influence. the only difference is this time some of them have nukes and are looking for an excuse to use them. and even if we don't blow ourselves up, we're actively destroying our planet and there's very little the average person can do about it, which is depressing as all hell. i genuinely fear what is to come for our species in the near future, but all we can do is keep moving and control what aspects of our lives we can. in general i try to focus my energy on the positives and less on the negatives, because devoting too much mental and emotional energy to the latter just leads to endless misery, and i can't handle it anymore. i've fucking earned some goddamn peace and happiness in this world after all i've been through, and saying that shouldn't be controversial.

thanks for the ask, friendo! it's rare i get to share my thoughts like this.

[grandtheftautopsy]

I have realized why what my sister did 5ish years ago (stuck her nose where it didn't belong, spread rumors, and attempted to sabotage my relationship all because she was jealous) still bothers me so much. My sister has NEVER been held accountable for her actions and I am always left to clean up her mess and that was just the final straw for me. She enjoyed riding the horses but did she ever muck stalls, pay vet bills, pay for the farrier, or pay for anything? No. She wouldn't even tend to Shadow's wounds when he had cancer. When she got bored of the birds and stopped caring for them, almost starving Nemo to death, I was forced to take over. I wasn't allowed to re-home them because she "loved them." I wish I had though because again, she ignored their existence and didn't pay for a damn thing. When she wanted to move upstairs, I cleaned the spare room out. Did I ever get a thank you or even an acknowledgement of my efforts? Of course not. Then, Dad and I were forced to clean out the cesspool that was her old room which is still the most disgusting thing I have ever seen. When she moved upstairs she completely abandoned Prudence. I made sure Prudence knew she was loved and cherished. I was livid when she took Prudence because for 10 years I cleaned litter boxes, I fed her, I took her to the vet. My sister has never done anything for anyone. She is the most selfish and ungrateful person I have ever met. She wants the benefits without ever lifting a finger herself.

I resent her for what she did. I at the very least deserve an apology from her. I know I will never get one, at least not a genuine one but it's a hill I'm willing to die on. When my sister stabbed me in the back, it made me realize that she does not value me or love me. She had five years and counting to apologize or even acknowledge what she did! I'm clearly not important to her and I refuse to maintain a relationship with someone who doesn't see me. That includes family. Really she should be kissing my ass for all of the bullshit she continues to put me through but again, I know it will never happen. I don't even know if she has admitted to herself what she has done. She always plays the victim. Her excuse for not attempting to repair our relationship is that she's "scared of me," which is laughable. She has passive aggressively bullied me for years now but once again, she's the victim. Boo hoo. I don't fucking care.

I feel like my family has gaslit me on the matter telling me that "it's not a big deal" or to "get over it" or that my feelings aren't valid or that it's my job to fix this. It's not. It's not my job to fix a bridge that she burned. I know it's not me because Michelle and Cassidy have both told me that my sister bullied them too and that's why they are no longer friends. We have similar stories. In their situation, my sister played the victim too. Shocking. There's a reason she doesn't have friends of her own. I have made peace with her not being in my life because I doubt she will ever put in the work to fix this. Why would I want someone in my life who doesn't root for me anyway?

It was bold and entitled of her to want a congratulations from me for her engagement. It was laughable really. We haven't spoken in years and now she suddenly wants a pat on the back? She hasn't congratulated me on a single thing I've done in the last five years. The rest of the family came to bat for her though. Told me it was shitty I didn't congratulate her and bullied me into it. Did anyone bully her into apologizing to me? Of course not. Did anyone ever come to bat for me? Absolutely not. No one, with the exception of Mom even asked for my side of the story. I am always left to my own accord, to fight my own battles and my family wonders why I keep them at a distance. I know what they are capable of and I am so tired of being traumatized by them. Family should make you feel safe and mine does not.

I refuse to back down on this. God forbid she has to answer for her actions for the first time in her life. It's about time she grows the fuck up.

[the141ghost]

As dramatic as it sounded, it wasn't something Johnny could fix.

Simon would have loved for him to fix it. He would have let him pick open his skull, pluck the horrifying memory right out of his brain, and chuck it into the bin with all the used medical supplies. Just because that was what he wanted, it didn't mean it was going to happen.

But, hearing the thick Scottish drawl from Johnny's mouth, slurring out a lighthearted 'Simon' made it feel just a touch better. To be fair, anything that Johnny said would have made him feel better. So long as he stayed close, even if Simon wanted him to be much closer, he knew that eventually, he'd be able to pull himself back from the ledge he was teetering on the edge of.

When Johnny asked what had gotten into him, though, Simon genuinely thought he was about to unconsciously leg it to the door, escaping out into the hallway to avoid having to address his brief moment of dissociation. 

What had gotten into him? If he was brave enough, which he wasn't, what would he even say? That his sister-in-law was called Beth? That would just open up a whole other line of questioning, Johnny would know that he had a brother, then, and that his brother had a wife. Then, the question of why he was speaking about them in the past tense. Knowing Johnny, he wouldn't have even had to ask. But if he did, then what? Could he even get the words out to tell him why she died? Why they all died?

A feeling of guilt crashed into Simon like a freight train. There Johnny was, just trying to share a nice, pleasant story about his family, and Simon had somehow made it all about himself.

He was being a selfish prick, as per fucking usual, and the worst part? He didn't think he could even stop himself.

He didn't pay much mind to the gentle foot tap, nor the fact that Johnny had essentially confiscated the bourbon from him. He'd noticed, yes, but he wasn't about to try and change the subject again. He'd done that once already, and it would usually be the second time that people started to get pissed about it.

"I don't want to," he replied firmly, but even though his tone was forceful and final, it still seemed sad and, somehow, weak. Tired. 

Johnny had given him the choice. It made his chest feel funny, tight and empty all at once. Relief, maybe, over the fact that Johnny wasn't about to pry into what had quite frankly been the worst day of Simon's life.

He was patient. Again. Simon would have to thank him somehow.

Then, his brows knit together tightly and his expression softened a touch. "Need a drink," he mumbled, gently resting his hand on Johnny's hip to keep him still while he stole the bottle back. 

The touch was a peace offering of sorts, a way to let Johnny know he wasn't angry, just… numb.

"I don't…" Simon shook his head, bottle halfway to his mouth before he lowered it back down and sighed. "Fuckin' hell, Johnny… M'sorry." He waited for another moment to pass before he raised the bottle up again, this time taking a much more sensible sip from it, though his nose still scrunched up a little at the tart flavour. "You don't- You know you don't have to stay, don't you? I'm not so delicate that I'll break if you leave." He would. "It's late, an' I-... can't keep you the whole night."

Johnny didn’t realise something had changed until after he’d stepped back from Simon, having been too wrapped up in talking, and then cleaning his face. That lovely blush had spread over his cheeks again, but the way he mumbled his words suggested something was suddenly very wrong. Some of the light that had grown behind his eyes had died again, it was like something had been switched off in Simon’s brain with no warning.

And then the way he went straight for the booze really had Johnny worried. He gave a toast, which would have been completely fine if he then didn’t drain about half of what was left in the bottle in one go. Johnny almost reached out to snatch the bottle from him just before he dropped it himself, he didn’t even give himself a chance to breathe as he gulped down the bourbon, which Johnny knew must not have been a pleasant experience in the slightest. He watched on with his brows knitted together in worry.

Johnny didn’t know what he’d done or said or if it had even been his fault, but something had thrown off Simon’s mood quite considerably. He kept talking, something about the bourbon, but it was flatter, with none of the emotion that he’d finally relaxed enough that night to show.

It was like everything he’d done to make Simon feel comfortable had been completely reversed, ruined.

Johnny just wanted to know how to fix that.

“Steamin’ Jesus, leave some for us, Simon! Even if it does taste like shit,” Johnny tried to keep his own mood light, knowing that suddenly switching up himself and pressing to know what was going on might only make Simon shut down even further. It was a fine line he was walking, but one he liked to think he was getting pretty good at traversing.

“Wha’s got intae you all of a sudden, eh?” he asked, tone still light but a little gentler, nudging one of Simon’s feet with his own, letting him know he’d noticed the change in tone. He then leaned over to take the bottle from him under the guise of wanting a drink of his own - which he did, since he was holding it, may as well - but the main reason was to get it out of Simon’s hands so he couldn’t repeat that same action for a third time. He kept a hold of the bottle once he’d taken a drink so he could stop Simon from having anymore.

He was the one who’d said Johnny shouldn’t be encouraging someone with a concussion to be drinking, after all.

He recalled earlier that night, Simon had told Johnny that he made his life a little easier, that with him around things didn’t get to him quite so much. That was what he needed to be right now - he needed to be that person that made whatever Simon was dealing with easier.

“Ye don’ have ta tell me if ye don’ want to,” Johnny said, holding up his hands, one still holding the bottle. He didn’t need to know what had dampened Simon’s mood, he just needed to figure out how to help him.

[sargeant-bxrnes]

1 step forward, 3 steps back.

warnings: rafe being… rafe. drug mention & consumption, cursing, toxic relationship, sexual situations/implications, mental health issues. ANGST.

[AN: this is the first thing i’ve written, ever, so my apologies if it’s not flawless ; also, english is not my first language, that’s a warning on its own]

my requests are open btw

click for my master list

word count: 4.4K

Called you on the phone today

Just to ask you how you were

All I did was speak normally

Somehow I still struck a nerve

“Hey,” you said in a soft tone as soon as Rafe picked up the phone, you were laying down on your bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Hey princess,” his tone was calm, but his voice was rough and raspy all together.

“How you doing?” you asked him, even though you’d seen him last night, up close.

“I’m doing great,” he replied in a surprisingly cheerful tone, which is weird this early in the morning. Rafe is not a morning person. “You sound tired.”

“I am tired,” you confirmed with a sigh. “Guess I have you to thank for that.”

“My pleasure.” he replied cockily, and even though you couldn’t see him, you could practically hear his proud smirk.

“So, what’s the plan today?” you asked in a casual tone, fidgeting with the edge of Rafe’s shirt, the one you wore to sleep.

“Uh, what do you mean?” he asked in a distracted tone, he sniffed subtly and coughed.

You knew what that meant, but still, you hoped it wasn’t what you deep down knew it was.

“Yeah, I mean—“ you said and made a brief pause. “Wanna go to the club? Maybe we can take a ride on the boat, you know, with food, alcohol... just us.”

“Can’t, I’m busy.” he said after a few seconds, if you didn’t know him better and his occasional mood swings, you would’ve said his tone was harsh.

"Really?" you asked in a soft tone, trying to disguise your disappointment with interest. "But I thought we were going out together today."

"Y/N, just because I'm your boyfriend it doesn't mean I have to be with you all the fucking time."

Okay, now he was definitely angry, you thought you said the right thing, but it still made him angry.

"Rafe-"

"No, Y/N. I have a life of my own, you know? Things to do besides you."

“That’s okay Rafe, I get it,” You said calmly, nodding your head softly. “Have fun today.”

Now you clearly heard the sound of him sniffing something and the sigh that left his lips after, and Barry’s voice in the background. “Don’t play the victim card on me, that’s not gonna work. I deserve to have some time off.”

“I didn’t,” you said softly. “And it’s okay baby, you’re right, you deserve to have some fun.”

“See? No need to be so fucking dramatic,” he said, his voice and words slurring. You? Dramatic? It was all him. “But don’t worry princess, I’ll drop by tonight and fuck the attitude out of you, yeah? That way I’m not just doing things with you, I’m doing you.”

And with such a vulgar comment and a harsh tone, Rafe hung up on you, leaving you completely dumbfounded and filled with incredulity.

What you did know for a fact, is that he would keep up his word. And judging by his tone of voice and how annoyed he was, you could already imagine the ache between your legs.

You got me fucked up in the head, boy

Never doubted myself so much

Like, am I pretty? Am I fun, boy?

I hate that I give you power over that kind of stuff

You knew exactly what you were getting into when you started hooking up with Rafe, and what you were committing to when you agreed to be his girlfriend.

You know that man carries more problems than he shows, he prefers to make himself appear as the Kook prince who lives a life of partying and money; hiding all the things that were going on in his head.

However, there were times when his attitude made you doubt yourself.

You couldn't help but think, ‘What if one day I don't manage to calm him down?’ ‘What if one day he realizes that there is someone prettier, or hotter, or wealthier out there?’

And Rafe would get angry if you doubted yourself. He would complain to you about it, saying you had no reason to be insecure about your looks; if you are absolutely gorgeous, or to feel insecure about your personality; if you were the most genuine person he'd ever met, and you could make him laugh until he forgot all his problems.

But what really made him furious was when you had doubts about the relationship itself, about whether or not he was capable of leaving you for someone else. He took those doubts personally, as if he wasn't trying hard enough to show you how much you mean to him.

When in reality; you were doubting yourself.

'Cause it's always one step forward

You were preparing dinner for you and Rafe, your family was out for the weekend, and Rafe had decided to spend it with you.

Your hair was tied up in a bun, your attire consisted of nothing but your underwear and a shirt that used to be Rafe's, but you took it so long ago that it's yours now.

Music from your shared playlist played in the background, as you danced absentmindedly with a spatula in hand, extremely calm and enjoying time with your boyfriend.

Rafe could do nothing but stare at you with admiration, you are literally the only good thing in his life; his little piece of heaven. You are everything to him.

As soon as Dark Red by Steve Lacy started playing, you let out an excited gasp. That song in particular is Rafe’s and yours, like… if you two had to choose a song to describe your relationship, it would be that one. It represented how you two did not always have good times, but your love prevailed.

Seeing you this happy, comfortable and at ease with him made Rafe's soul happy. All his life, he had done nothing else besides make people angry, disappointed, terrified. But with you, everything was different.

You were so focused on swaying your hips to the music and singing, that you didn't notice when Rafe stood up and walked over to where you were.

It wasn't until he stood behind you, chest to back and with his hands on your hips, that you realized he was closer. His head was bowed, you could feel his breathing close to your ear, so he was able to murmur in your ear the lyrics of the song:

“Only you, my girl, only you, babe,” he sang in your ear, his voice a soft whisper as he wrapped his arms around your body and started to sway with you. “Only you, darling, only you, babe.”

The gesture quickened your heart to unsuspected levels, you felt your knees weaken as you pressed closer to his body, appreciating his closeness as he pressed a kiss against your temple.

“You know I love you so much, right?” he mumbled in your ear, as you closed your eyes and relished his presence.

“I love you too, baby.”  you mumbled back, leaning your head against his chest, caressing one of his arms around your waist with your fingertips, and bringing your hand to his ash blond hair, stroking it softly.

and three steps back

“Why is he mad at you, again?” Topper asked you with a raised eyebrow, after witnessing Rafe utterly avoiding even looking at you when he walked into the room and then left without a word.

“Because I told Barry to not open the door if Rafe dropped by,” You replied with a shrug, closing your eyes and leaning back against the chair. “And when Rafe tried to lash out on him, Barry said it all had been ‘Mrs.Country Club’s’ request.”

“And he’s mad at you because you don’t want him to get all fucked up?” Topper questioned next, trying to understand the situation. But he never knew what the fuck you two were up to.

“Yes, but it’s Rafe, are you surprised?” you said with a heavy sigh.

“No, not really,” Topper admitted. “Honestly, I don’t know why you keep up with him, Y/N.”

“I ask myself that all the time…” you said with a deep sigh. “But I love him, so I guess that’s the answer.”

“And? I mean, I don’t want to be ‘that guy’ Y/N, but he’s…” Topper trailed off, apparently looking for the right word.

“I know exactly how he is, Topper, I don’t need you to remind me. I already think about that way too much.”

You and Topper had easily assumed that Rafe was no longer around, since he seemed to be making his best efforts to avoid you.

But Rafe was there, and he heard everything. He’d heard Topper giving you bad advice (or what he considered bad advice) And he heard you, having doubts about why you loved him or stood by him at all,and it made him want to lash out again.

I'm the love of your life until I make you mad

It's always one step forward and three steps back

Do you love me, want me, hate me? Boy, I don't understand

No, I don't understand

[+18. Really]

“Leave me alone!” his voice boomed in the room, his brows furrowed and the veins in his neck were popping out.

“Rafe—“ you tried once again, approaching slowly in an attempt to place a hand on his shoulder, but he waved it away aggressively.

“Leave-me-alone,” he said, pausing in between each word to emphasize on how much he meant it. His eyes were bloodshot, his nose had specks of white dust, his lips were dry and his voice was coarse.

You weren’t entirely sure what you could say to get him to calm down. Or if there was anything at all you could do.

Normally, what upsets him the most is Ward. His own father. Rafe has spent his whole life trying to prove he's a good son, to make his father proud, and Ward never appreciates his efforts, only notices the bad, and ignores Rafe's clear calls for help, has since Rafe was 10 years old, so he certainly wasn't going to pay attention to him now that Rafe finally had a steady girlfriend, someone who had willingly decided to help.

95% of the time, you managed to talk to Rafe before he decided to resort to intoxication. Most of the time just seeing you helped him calm down, hearing your voice soothed him, and your lips, your skin, put him in a state of peace.

But the other 5% is when Rafe resorted to alcohol and, above all, drugs.

When Rafe is upset and decides to get high, he only manages to become unstable, erratic and yes, aggressive if not handled with care.

In those situations, the best thing you can do, putting yourself first, is to give him his space. Let him screw himself as much as he wants for that day, and help him deal with the consequences the next day, while you listen to him lament his attitude.

Rafe always said he would quit the vice; claiming you were all he needed to calm himself down, that you made him feel at peace. And above all, that you weren't slowly killing him; on the contrary, every minute he spent with you made him feel more alive.

However, for one reason or another, he always came back to it. Whether it was at a party, because Kelce suggested it, or, as is almost always the case, when he's upset with his father and needs quick relief.

And usually, this ‘quick relief’ ends up with Rafe fucked up, big time.

Once he was convinced that you wouldn't try to intervene again, Rafe went back to his business. He turned to the table, and since he already had the line ready, he simply leaned over and inhaled it, throwing his head back, running his hand through his hair and exhaling as he closed his eyes.

You exhaled heavily, shaking your head as you stared at your feet.  You knew he would struggle to quit, after all it is an addiction and he has to fight it, but sometimes you get the impression that Rafe doesn't want to quit, not really.

"Do you want to help me?" asked Rafe eventually, turning his head to look at you. You didn't know if it was a trick question or not, so you hesitated before answering. "Answer me."

"Yes, of course I want to, Rafe." you replied with your respective hesitations, wondering what he was up to.

"Come here then," he said, making a 'come hither’ sign with his fingers.

You took a hesitant step but stopped, your eyes narrowing as you analyzed Rafe, trying to determine his intentions.

He raised both eyebrows in your direction, in a silent question of whether or not you're going to go with him.

Eventually you walked over to where Rafe was, he smiled at you while biting his lip lightly. Without saying anything he approached you and kissed you; the drugs made his senses heighten, so the kiss was intense from the beginning.

So that's when it made sense to you what he wanted, he wanted you. Your most obvious thought is that he would use you to take out your frustration, put the drugs aside and, most likely, fuck you.

Your idea seemed to be the right one as soon as Rafe grabbed you by the waist, still with his lips on yours, left a little bite on your lip before pulling away; and without any problem, lifted you off the floor and placed you on the table.

It's something you wouldn't admit out loud,—mostly out of shame and guilt,—but this kind of sex with Rafe was the best, he's completely unrestrained, rough, full of stamina and teasing, and above all, possessive. And that, in combination with his attractiveness, always drove you crazy.

And honestly; if what he wanted was to fuck you to take out his frustration, you'd let him.

His kisses were hungry and his hands desperate, running all over your body without distinction, as if he didn't know where to start.

He parted his lips from yours, and left a kiss at the corner of them, on your jaw; and began to make a little trail of slow kisses down your neck. The feeling of his lips on your neck made you bite your lip as you wrapped your legs around his waist to feel him closer.

You slid your hand under his shirt, caressing his defined abs and the sides of his body gently with the tips of your fingers, as he left little bites on your neck. Your hands slowly moved up, intending to remove his shirt, but Rafe was quicker and brought his hands to the edge of your shirt, causing you to stop your movements to raise your arms, so he could remove your shirt with ease. And so he did.

He parted his lips from your neck and stared at you, the hunger in his eyes made you feel a fire in the pit of your stomach that only he could put out.

Desperately, your lips connected again as he settled between your legs. One of his hands traveled to your neck, and he wrapped his fingers around it, pressing lightly to the sides. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head; though he couldn't see it.

With just enough strength, Rafe used the grip he had on your neck to push you down onto the table, so that you were lying on top of it.

As soon as he leaned over the table, you could feel his breath over abdomen, so you bit your lip in anticipation for what was to come.

He began to leave slow, wet kisses on your abdomen, making a slow trail to the edge of your shorts. Your automatic reaction was to close your eyes and put a hand in his hair, stroking it gently.

What you didn’t know is that the fact that you closed your eyes had given Rafe an opportunity he couldn't miss. Without you noticing, he slid a hand to the side of the table, where the small bag of white powder was.

To conceal his actions, he unbuttoned your shorts, and returned his lips to the beginning of your abdomen for more time.

The little bite he left to distract your attention caused a gasp to escape your lips; and that sound almost caused him to change plans completely.

He did want to fuck you, don’t get him wrong. He even had a mental debate about whether to continue what he was doing or simply sink his head between your thighs and provoke more sounds like that.

But he wanted to try something first. He had always wanted to try it, but had never asked you, because he knew that you would most likely say no.

With ease, he slid your shorts down your legs; so that they stayed at your ankles or fell to the floor; he didn't care. One of his hands slid into your underwear with ease, his fingers going straight to where he knew you needed him the most.

Trusting that you would not open your eyes, carefully, he put the white substance on your body, so delicately you didn’t notice. He began to prepare to inhale, while biting his lip in reaction to the sinful sounds that left your lips.

And obviously, without warning, Rafe inhaled a line from your thigh.

And all your sounds stopped, your eyes opened and your expression was filled with surprise, the bad kind.

You couldn't believe what Rafe had just done, you felt like an idiot for falling into the trap.

You also had to bite your lip to keep from letting out a moan in reaction to what his fingers were doing in between your legs, but your pride forbade it.

But more than anything else, you were outraged.

“Rafe, you did not just—“

“It felt nice, yeah?” Rafe’s voice was hoarse, you could feel his breath over your skin, as he left little kisses around. “After all, I did feel you clench around my fingers.”

His dirty words, hoarse voice, and close proximity to your body, not to mention his fingers deep inside you, caused you to let out a soft moan, causing Rafe to smirk in what he thought was victory.

But you wouldn't let him win this little game.

Although you really didn't want to, you grabbed his hand by the wrist and pulled him away, your legs trembling slightly at the sudden lack of anything between them.

Rafe's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as soon as you pushed him away from you and got off the table, lifting your shorts off the floor and putting them back on without a word.

"What are you doing?"

You didn't answer, as you searched for  your shirt, feeling his heavy gaze on your body.

"Y/N, where do you think you're going?"

“I’m leaving you alone as you asked me to, remember?” you said in irony. “Before you sniffed a line off me after I begged you to quit that shit?”

“Oh, so now you’re playing the victim?” his voice rose. “Don't- Don’t act as if you wouldn’t have let me fuck you less than a minute ago!”

"Yes I would have let you, to distract you from that shit!" you admitted to him, failing to control your anger. "I said I wanted to help you, to distract you, to give you something different to do. Not that I'd give you another place to snort lines from!"

Rafe knew you were right, of course he did.

You had spent months after months trying to get him to quit, you had offered him countless hours of your days to give him something new to do, distractions, attention and love. And this is how he had decided to pay you back?

But Rafe was angry too, very. You had interrupted him, you were yelling at him; and you had left him so hard, that it would start to hurt unless he did something about it.

“Fine, then get the fuck out of here.” Rafe spat, his anger clearly getting the best of him.

Your eyes widened at that, you hadn't expected him to react like that.

Your best case scenario would be that your attitude would piss him off, yes, but that he would retaliate by getting you back to the table and showing you everything you were missing.

Instead, he simply took your word for it and told you to get out of the room.

“What?”

“You heard me, get out.”

“Rafe—“

“You uh, you have three options, yeah? You let me fuck you over that table and do whatever I want, you get out of here, or I’ll get you out of here.”

The first offer was tempting, it really was, but you wouldn’t allow him to talk to you like that. Before anything, came respect and dignity, and no matter how much you wanted him to fuck you silly, you were too angry and disappointed at him to let it slip.

Blinking repeatedly to chase away the tears from your eyes, you grabbed your phone from the other end of the table, your jacket from Rafe's bed, and walked out of there without another word as you heard him calling your name.

And maybe in some masochistic way

I kinda find it all exciting

Like, which lover will I get today?

Will you walk me to the door or send me home cryin'?

Your relationship with Rafe was unique.

Not because of the circumstances in which it was created. A one-night-stand that turned into something casual, that was formalized after a dinner.

If not for Rafe.

You loved him, no doubt about it. You would give anything to see him happy and at peace, at peace with himself and succeeding in his life.

Rafe would do anything for you, really, anything. No matter how risky, demanding or dangerous, he would do anything for you.

He would die and kill for you.

But that surely didn’t mean it was an easy relationship, hell no. In fact, the willingness both of you had to do anything for each other sometimes made things too complicated; for at times it seemed that not a single rational thought crossed your minds.

And yes, Rafe’s addiction was a big issue. Whenever he was too high, or going through withdrawals, he wasn’t the Rafe you knew or had grown to love, it was another side of him you wanted to help get rid off. And the process wasn’t easy.

While trying to get clean; there was no way to know how he’d behave. He could either get clingy and want you around at all times to calm himself down, or he’d be in a very bad mood all the time, constantly snapping at you and raising his voice.

So there were days where he’d walk you to the door of your house and leave you there with a tender kiss and a smile.

Or days when you’d get out of his truck without a word, with tears streaming down your cheeks while he kept yelling for probably the stupidest thing.

No, it's back and forth, did I say something wrong?

It's back and forth, goin' over everything I said

It's back and forth, did I do something wrong?

'It's back and forth, maybe this is all your fault

Rafe knew he wasn’t okay. After all, he had begged his father for help, begged for anything that would get those thoughts to stop, but his father hadn’t listened, had only told him to ‘man up.’

You knew he wasn’t okay. Which is why you wanted to help him, to offer the support no one else had bothered to give him before he met you.

Whether he wanted it or not, those thoughts were still there. Being with you made them easier to ignore, but it’s not like they vanished entirely. He still had some ideas that made his own skin crawl.

And sometimes, you’d say or do the wrong thing and trigger those thoughts. And things got bad again for him.

Rafe knew you wanted nothing but to help him get better and be the best version of himself, and he really wanted to give you that. To change and make an effort. Not only for himself but for you. He wanted to be a man worthy of your love.

But it was hard to be anywhere near decent when you two went out and a guy stared at you for longer than Rafe’s limits allowed, or when guys tried to hit on you, when his friends got a little bit too close for his comfort.

Whenever he got jealous, he turned into a walking, talking ticking bomb. Anything could, and would set him off.

It wasn’t your fault, not really, but most of the time you felt it was. You knew Rafe dealt with a lot of insecurities already, of not being a nice person, not being good enough and so many other things. And you hated being one of the factors that caused his insecurities to arise.

And I'd leave you, but the roller coaster is all I've ever had

It was a complicated relationship, and it would probably never stop being complicated because both of you are complex people, plus there are other factors that affect the relationship.

But that didn't mean either of you would stop fighting to keep it alive. Neither would let the other go.

Rafe utterly refused to ever let you go. He loved you as he had never loved anyone, as he never thought himself capable of loving with that twisted heart of his.

You are, without exception, the best thing in his life, the best thing that ever happened to him. And you being in his heart was slowly turning him into who he had wanted to be during all those years of loneliness.

And you would never let him go, because you loved him with all your heart, soul and nerve of your body. And because you know that no one will ever love you like him. With so much passion, intensity, honesty and purity.

Because every feeling Rafe expressed with you was true; he was himself with you. And you didn't want to let him go.

Even if the two of you went one step forward, and three steps back, that single step would be longer than any step life makes you take backwards.

[anextrapart]

Can i ask why you won't like jimmy going to prison?

Oh my god yes anon thank you for asking! (Unsurprisingly, this will not be brief.)

So here's the thing. I recognize on a basic narrative level why it could make sense. Arguably the whole kickoff of Jimmy being inflicted upon Albuquerque was Chuck rescuing him from going to prison after the sunroof incident, so the idea that Jimmy goes to prison all this time later by turning himself in and no longer running away from “the consequences of his actions” does technically close that loop on a really superficial level.

From a strictly moralistic, real-world law and order perspective then yes of course Jimmy (and BrBa-timeline especially) is a criminal and should be in jail. But because this is fiction, because we’ve spent so much time getting to know and love and root for him, I don’t personally find that to be a particularly satisfying ending. It isn’t a bad idea or one that doesn’t make a degree of narrative sense, but I don’t think it really completes the story in a way that it deserves to be completed. To me, Jimmy choosing to go to jail and being presented as finding the peace through that choice that he hasn’t found elsewhere doesn’t feel genuine; it feels more like “look how clever we are having him choose to go to jail, bet you’ve never seen a show end like that before!” And that may not be the intent--they may genuinely feel that’s what’s best for the story, but to me it feels empty. Jimmy making that choice feels more like a desperate, stressed decision not unlike the decision we just saw Kim make: “I can’t live with myself, I’m miserable, I don’t know what else to do, so I’m just going to give up.” Going to jail wouldn’t be learning from his mistakes, it’s just easier than really facing within himself the things that he’s done. It’s a relief. At this point, going to jail is another form of running away. 

I think part of the trouble too with the “closing the narrative loop” idea I mentioned above is the fact that it isn’t a one-for-one trade. Going to prison in Cicero all those years ago would not have “fixed” Jimmy. It’s not as though he would have done his time and come out the other side a well-adjusted, law-abiding citizen. Personally, I think he would be significantly worse; I don’t think his good heart would have survived. So it feels hollow to present this sort of idea that everything catches up to him and he “chooses to take responsibility” for what he should have done a long time ago because the thing is... he did try. He tried so hard to be better and do the right thing. And he absolutely fucked up and ultimately did bad things that hurt people but it’s not like Chuck got him out of lockup and he immediately started committing crimes.

What I want to get out of this story is that Jimmy has learned something and grown as a person and gained some perspective on his life and choices. Wouldn’t it be worthwhile to see this guy who’s been hurt and beat down again and again manage to make some good choices and find some happiness and value in a quiet life that he never would have expected? If we’re moralizing then yes, he hasn’t served what would legally count as paying his debt to society, but again, because this is fiction I don’t really care about that. I’d argue that he’s been in a prison of his own making for quite some time and that he’s suffered enormously. If what we want to get out of a person serving time in prison isn’t just a miserable punishment but for them to actually be “rehabilitated” and fit to rejoin society as an improved citizen, then I see no reason why (within the context of this fiction) we can’t get Jimmy there without ending with him on a path of longterm suffering (because no matter how “at peace” he could be presented as being in prison, I don’t believe for a hot second that he’s actually happy. Or, for that matter, not still wearing a mask).

Prison-ending also rubs me the wrong way because it bothers me that some people are opposed to a hopeful or “happy” ending simply because they feel that’s somehow inherently less valuable than a tragic or “realistic” one? There is tragedy here. We’ve just seen it, we watched Jimmy McGill almost completely decimated right in front of us. You already showed us the tragedy, and not even all of it yet. I just don’t see the value in burning a character down to nothing and then not building them back up again better and stronger. Does he “deserve” to go to jail? Maybe. If we’re moralizing again, sure. But when has this show ever been about people getting what they “deserve” (for good or ill)? 

And what about Kim? What does she “deserve”? Because I can’t reconcile a happy Kim without Jimmy, not after all they’ve been through. I don’t think she can’t live without him, but actual genuine happiness? I don’t think it exists for either of them without the other. So for me, part of a satisfying conclusion involves Jimmy and Kim finding the ability within themselves to make choices that allow them to be together without hurting other people. And yeah some of that is genuinely just the romantic in me being a sappy bitch, but a lot of it just feels true to the story that they’ve been telling us. Why, why, why would you build these complex, flawed, wonderfully lovable characters only to leave them (and by extension, us) in misery and disappointment for them? I think in many ways this show has always just been about a guy who is at his core full of love, who wants to be loved in return, who keeps losing it over and over again (for a variety of reasons) and is just in agony over it. Why the fuck would you not let him figure out how to keep it?

Very long answer short, I guess it kind of just comes down to what is the takeaway they want us to get from this story? That you can’t escape your nature and that no matter what you do you're destined to stay on the path (the bad choice road) you’ve been on for years? The one that leads to jail and heartbreak and separation and loneliness? 

Or that people can learn, people can change, and that it’s possible to still find joy in your life, even if the learning and the changing and the joy are all found after the worst things imaginable have happened to you?

I’ll take the latter, thanks.

[seijorhi]

Bully ~ Part II

Oikawa Tooru x female reader (+ Iwaizumi Hajime)

TW dub/non-con, bullying, slight degradation, voyeurism, filming, implied abuse, one mention of slapping, nsfw

Part I

‘Honey, it’s your choice. Whatever you decide to do, we’ll respect.’

The final whistle sounds, the team gathering up in a huddle and with a sigh you dutifully close your books and begin to pack them away into your bag. They still have to pull down all the nets and tidy up, but that never takes too long and the sooner you’re all out of here the better.

The sooner you can get away from them, the better.

It’s become routine at this point for you to slowly make your way down to the edge of the court while they duck into the locker room; the other third years acknowledging you with friendly enough smiles, the underclassmen no longer staring at you in vague confusion. 

But at this point you’re truly beyond caring what any of them think of your relationship with their Captain. 

Except instead of filing out like the rest of his teammates, Oikawa’s still on the far side of the court, trapped in a conversation with Coach Irihata and Mizoguchi. For a split second, his attention shifts towards you, lingering awkwardly by the big double doors, and you think you catch a flicker of irritation in his eyes – which is unusual, considering that he’s made this game his life and he has nothing but the greatest respect for both of the men before him. 

But it doesn’t really matter, you suppose. You’ll wait for him, whether it’s five minutes or fifty and he’ll either tell you what’s pissing him off, or he won’t and he’ll end up using you to work out his frustrations anyway.

With your parents away for the rest of the week and your house otherwise empty, you can only pray to any god that’ll listen that he won’t try and spend the night. Not that there’s much you can do to stop him, but a girl can dream, right?

The others are heading off, Makki laughing off some biting comment from Kyoutani, but you pay them no mind. Despite being the people you now spend the majority of your time with, they’re not your friends. 

You resign yourself to trudging back up into the stands to wait for Oikawa to finish up when a hand gently wraps around your arm, spinning you around. You start, every muscle in your body tensing on instinct, but as you come face to face with familiar olive eyes you relax – it’s only Iwa.

He regards you silently for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face before he glances over your shoulder to where Oikawa’s still talking with the coaches. 

“C’mon, they’ll be a while, I think. Let me walk you home.”

His place is almost a fifteen minute walk from yours, but you don’t bother trying to bring that up. Instead, you just shrug, shifting the strap of the bag slung over your shoulder, “It’s fine. I don’t need an escort, you know, it’s not that late.”

Maybe it’d be nice for once, walking home without Oikawa’s looming presence over your shoulder. You’re almost positive that he’ll still come by afterwards, especially because he knows as well as you do that there’s nobody to interrupt tonight, but you’ll take the tiny wins when you can.

Besides, you only have to stick it out a little while longer. 

Still holding onto your arm, Iwa’s eyebrows draw together into a slight frown and he bites back a sigh, “Shittykawa’ll throw a hissy-fit if I let you walk home alone tonight. C’mon.”

He’s not asking, you realise belatedly as he firmly but gently starts to lead you out of the gym, not sparing his best friend another glance. And you could probably dig your heels in and kick up a fuss and he’d probably let you go – at least, you think he would. He would, right? He’d listen if you asked him to stop – but what’s the point?

Nobody here actually cares what you want anymore.

Iwa’s different, you suppose. You don’t really know why. He’s just as complicit as the others, maybe even more so – he at least knows what’s going on, even if he refuses to acknowledge it or do anything about it… but that’s not entirely true, is it?

He’s the one to step in when Oikawa starts to take things too far in public. He’s the one to scare off your would be bullies, snarling and glaring at them from his place at your side. Iwa’s the reason you haven’t lost it completely, the one keeping your head above water. He’s a friend you suppose, or at least the closest thing Oikawa’ll let you have anymore.

He’s certainly the only one Tooru trusts with you whenever he’s not around, hence you haven’t heard any indignant shouts from the gym following in your wake despite the grip he has on you.

And Iwa is nice, in his own way. He cares about you, you think – or he cares enough to pretend for Oikawa’s sake. Either way, at least you know he won’t try to pull you down an alleyway and force you to suck his cock, so compared to your other options, he’s definitely the lesser of two evils. 

It’s quiet as the two of you walk, and you find yourself thankful for it. Oikawa’s always talking, he never shuts up, his incessant chatter shattering every moment of quiet, peaceful solitude you try to steal for yourself. 

And tonight, tonight your head’s already too full to pretend to play along with some semblance of chipper friendliness. 

Maybe that’s why you like Iwaizumi; you don’t have to pretend with him. He knows exactly what Oikawa is, and he’s too intelligent to believe that you’re content spending every waking moment by the setter’s side, much less that you genuinely love him. 

It’s a nice night, at least – there’s barely any clouds in the sky. You can see the stars glittering in the inky, midnight blue, and it’s peaceful, you think, with Iwa strolling quietly along beside you. 

Even when the breeze starts to pick up, the late summer night air nipping at your exposed skin. Your jacket’s folded up and shoved somewhere towards the bottom of your bag, but you honestly can’t be bothered to stop and ferret for it. 

“You’re cold,” Iwa states after a beat. Again, not a question.

Nevertheless, you shake your head. “I’m fine,” you reply, perhaps a little tersely, but he’s already shrugging off his own jacket and draping it over your shoulders. Oikawa would do the same thing, more out of a perverse sense of enjoyment from seeing you wearing his clothes than a genuine sense of concern over your comfort.

Still, you don’t fight Iwa on it, pulling his jacket tighter over your body. It’s warm, his lingering body heat making your own cheeks burn a little, and it smells like him, too. Musky, yes, but there’s something almost comforting about the fresh, woodsy scent.

Silence resumes between the two of you, but you feel the weight of his stare as the two of you wander along the path. Iwaizumi’s always been perceptive, more so than most give him credit for, and it’s only another few minutes before he speaks again.

“You’re quiet tonight.”

You hum noncommittally, staring resolutely at the concrete sidewalk rather than meet his pointed gaze. 

He huffs. “You gonna tell me what’s bothering you or not?” he tries again, the sheer bluntness almost enough to make you flinch.

“And what makes you think there’s anything bothering me?” you reply dully, kicking at the small little pebble on the pathway in front of you.

Iwa stiffens just a fraction, but you feel it – the shift in the air between the two of you. It’s the truth you won’t speak, the one he won’t acknowledge. Of course there’s something bothering you; this whole fucked up situation between the three of you. It’s not normal, it’s not healthy, surely he sees that, how the hell can he–

“Cut the bullshit,” he snaps. “You think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been acting lately? Something’s up, and if you think I’m the only one who’s paying attention…” he trails off, and suddenly his hand’s catching at yours, pulling you to a stop.

And when finally you drag your eyes up to meet his, your heartbeat quickens at the scowl written across his face, plain as day. 

“I’m not talking about… that. Did he–” he hesitates, biting down on his lip and you honestly don’t know whether you want to laugh or cry. “Something’s up.”

You could probably tell him to mind his own business, and part of you almost wants to. He might even listen, though he wouldn’t be happy about it, but the thing is, you’re just so tired. Tired of playing girlfriend for Oikawa, tired of being dragged along against your will, manhandled and fucked at every opportunity, tired of pretending that this is in any way okay, and you just want to finally give in and admit it out loud.

You want this to be over, and it’s so close you can almost fucking taste it. 

So you breathe deep, forcing yourself to relax. “My mom got a job in Tokyo. My parents… they’re leaving at the end of next week. Moving. It’s why they haven't been around much lately.”

Iwaizumi’s eyebrows furrow into a frown as he takes a second to absorb the information. “And… you? We only have a few months left until we graduate.”

You allow him a wry smile. “I know. They gave me a choice, I’m eighteen, I can stay here in the house by myself, finish up the year and graduate at Aoba Johsai before moving down with them…”

“Or?” he prods.

“Or,” you continue, “or I can go now. There’s some really good schools down there, I could have my pick. It’ll be a struggle, I know, transferring so late in the term, but–”

Iwaizumi scoffs, cutting you off, “But you’re not actually gonna go, right? You can’t just pack up and leave so close to graduation. You’re staying here in Miyagi.” 

He almost sounds angry– the muscle in his jaw’s twitching and as you stare at him you realise that he doesn’t sound angry; he is angry. His whole body’s tensed like he’s preparing for a fight, and it takes you by surprise. 

Sure, he’s pretty much the only person outside of Oikawa that you’d consider yourself to have any kind of relationship with anymore, but you’d never really thought he’d actually–

“Iwa,” you say gently, “I was gonna go to Tokyo after graduation anyway. Sure, it’s not exactly an ideal situation, but…” 

But it’s your chance to get away from all of this, from Oikawa, and you’re gonna take it and run. Whether or not Tokyo University accepts you, whether it means you have to work three times as hard to adjust to a new school’s curriculum just so you won’t completely flunk your final exams. 

It can’t be any worse than this.

He has to understand that. 

And really, what did he think was going to happen after graduation? You know Oikawa’s plans, and you’ll be damned if you let him ruin your life anymore than he already has, dragging you halfway across the world. You belong here, in Japan. Oikawa can go chase his pipe dreams on his own. 

He swallows tightly, and while the pinched scowl on his face doesn’t falter, his grip on your wrist eases just a fraction. “You were really just gonna leave without telling anybody?” he asks, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

“Who would I tell?”

—

Sure enough, it’s a little after midnight when your bedroom door sweeps open and Oikawa strides in like he owns the place. You watch through half lidded eyes as he starts to shed his clothes, stripping off and tossing them haphazardly onto the floor until he’s just in his boxers. 

He doesn’t say much as he lifts the covers and climbs into bed beside you, merely presses a surprisingly gentle kiss to your cheek, murmuring a quiet, ‘Just sleep, cutie,’ when you try to shift away from him.

He sounds tired, exhausted really, but you don’t care enough to comment, relieved more than anything that tonight he doesn’t seem to have the energy for more. There’d been some part of you that was worried that Iwa might have told him about the walk home – the secrets you’d unthinkingly entrusted to him – but he can’t have. There’s no possible way Oikawa would be so calm right now if he had. 

And Iwa wouldn’t do something like that in the first place. 

It might not have been the most traditional of friendships, and you know he’s still a little pissed off with your decision and the fact you had no intentions of telling him, but Iwa wouldn’t break your trust like that. 

And so with Oikawa’s arms wrapped around your middle, the warmth of his chest pressed up against your back, you allow sleep to claim you once more.

—

You hardly see him the following morning. 

There’s no sign of him when you wake up, though his side of the bed is still warm – you know he likes to run in the mornings; he probably ran home to shower before school. And if you’re grateful to Aoba Johsai for anything, it’s for putting the two of you in separate classes. You’re spared his presence and those of his mooney eyed fangirls, and you can actually focus on learning. Or try to, at least.

Iwa regards you with an unreadable expression when you take your usual seat at the desk next to his, but at least he doesn’t seem as pissed off as he was when he left you last night. You only have a week and a half left until you go, but considering he’s the closest thing you have to a friend anymore, you’re not sure how you would survive if he suddenly decided to give you the cold shoulder.

Still, he is quieter than usual as you both settle into class, and you can’t help your gaze from flickering over to him throughout the lesson, an uncomfortable pit settling into your stomach. Iwa doesn’t so much as look your way, busying himself in copying down the notes the teacher’s scrawling on the board.

You honestly didn’t expect him to be hurt, and as he brushes past you on his way out after the bell rings you begin to doubt whether you should have told him at all. It stings, more than you expect.

Yet the moment you try to follow him, calling out his name, a familiar figure steps in front of you, halting you in your tracks. 

“Hey, cutie,” Oikawa purrs, grinning down at you as he reaches out to tuck a stray lock of hair back behind your ear. “I’ve missed you today. Come on, let’s go somewhere a little quieter.”

His fingers are laced with yours, tugging you along before you can even try to voice a protest. You both know you wouldn’t anyway, not anymore. 

Just like you don’t speak up when instead of dragging you outside to the courtyard, or even to the gym, he chooses an empty classroom, kicking the door shut behind him. 

There’s a question on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t have a chance to voice it as he grabs you by the collar of your shirt and smashes his lips to yours. 

Oikawa usually likes to take his time, to drag out your humiliation and reluctant pleasure as he toys with you, but today he wastes no time in shoving you back up against one of the desk, his fingers already yanking down your necktie and prying your lilac shirt open – buttons scattering as it rips.

“Tooru–” you gasp, panic flaring, but his lips curl into a smirk as he forces you back into another kiss.

“Quiet now, cutie, let me take care of my pretty girl, hm?” he growls between panting breaths. “You don’t want somebody stumbling in and interrupting us, do you?”

And your chest tightens, squeezing around your lungs like a vice, your gaze flickering back to the door – shut but not locked.

“Tooru,” you whisper again in a panic, clutching at the lapels of his blazer as he draws back enough to level a gaze at your chest, bare save for the virginal white lace bra you’d unthinkingly chosen that morning. 

His grin widens, but there’s something cold and utterly unflinching in his eyes as they flicker up to meet yours. “Lean back,” he tells you.

You shake your head, “I d-don’t–”

His hands are on your shoulders, abruptly shoving you backwards. “I said,” he coos as you sprawl back onto the wooden desktop with a startled squeak, “lean back for me.”

It’s been months since you’ve fought him, but as he flips up your skirt, fingers grazing possessively along the cotton of your panties and he sighs contentedly, sheer panic floods your system, overwhelming your better judgement. Before you can stop yourself your knees come up as you desperately scramble to right yourself, to put an end to this–

The slap to your cheek isn’t all that forceful, at least not compared to what you know him to be capable of, but it still takes you by surprise, the sharp, burning sting only registering as the shock of the blow fades.

Oikawa’s no longer grinning, his face twisted into a terrifying glare as wide, teary eyes stare back up at him. “Baby, you’re really testing me right now. You want to act like a disobedient little bitch, kick up a fuss, bring everybody running so they can see what a needy little whore you are, spread out on the table for me?” He snatches at your panties, harshly wrenching them down your now prone legs with one hand, the other reaching for his belt buckle, “You think you have a choice here? You think I give a fuck what you want?”

Your ears are ringing, the sound of your own heartbeat drowning out almost everything else.

It’s not the first time he’s hit you, or even the hardest, but with that one slap all the fight you have left just dissipates. You don’t even flinch when he spits directly onto your pussy, his thumb harshly spreading his saliva over your cunt – you just bite down on your lip to stifle the sob that threatens to burst.

And victory shines bright in his eyes at the sight of it. 

“Good girl, you know who this pretty pussy belongs to, don’t you?” he croons with saccharine sweetness, even leaning over to press a tender, affectionate kiss to your swollen lips. 

And you’d squeeze your eyes shut and try to imagine that you’re somewhere else, anywhere else if you didn’t know how much he hates it when you do. So instead, you lie there pliant and trembling, humiliation burning hot as he spreads your legs, pressing your thighs back towards your chest as he slots himself in between them.

“You look so good like this, you know?” he muses with a soft little chuckle as he leisurely strokes his cock, letting the flushed tip brush teasingly along your folds, nudging at your clit. “Prettiest little thing, and all mine, aren’t you, cutie.”

Tears well and spill soundlessly down your cheek, but your only answering is the hiccuping breath you draw in, your fingers finding purchase on the edges of the desk as he guides it back to your entrance.

It doesn’t matter that you’re not nearly ready for him, that his spit and the pre-cum that’s beading at his slit isn’t going to help ease his passage in the slightest. He’ll fuck you how he wants to – and you’re too broken to try and stop him.

Yet instead of savagely plunging in like you expect him to, Oikawa stills, regarding you with a tilted head and a cruel smirk. 

“Fuck,” he curses quietly, the sound almost reverent as he stares down at you. He shakes his head, another soft laugh bubbling out, “I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of seeing you like this, but if you’re going to be running off on me so soon, maybe I should take a little memento, what do you think cutie?”

Your stomach drops, dread creeping down your spine as Oikawa reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, opening up the camera and flicking it across to video. 

“I mean if this is going to be our last time together, don’t you think we should make it special?” You jerk, your breath coming out in short, harsh pants but you can’t move, can’t seem to lift a single finger as he leans in closer, bringing his lips to your ear, “That way we both have something to remember this by.”

And as his breath ghosts the tiny hairs on the shell of your ear he laughs again, pressing another quick kiss to your flushed, tear stained cheek. “Aw, don’t cry, cutie. You brought this on yourself.”

You don’t have a moment to prepare yourself, his hand slamming over your lips to muffle your shrieks as he thrusts his hips forward, sheathing himself in your tight little cunt with a choked moan.

“F-fuck, baby,” he grits out, biting down on his own lip as he relishes the vice like grip your pussy has on his throbbing cock, “Smile for the camera.”

Your back arcs up off the table, fingernails digging into the wood as he draws his hips back slowly, letting you feel every inch of his cock as it drags along your walls until it’s only the tip that remains inside of you.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts – a sharp and throbbing pain that only grows with each passing second. 

There’s something sadistic in his grin as he angles the phone down to where your bodies meet, your lewdly spread thighs, your glistening pussy in perfect view as another glob of saliva joins the first, pooling over your sex, sliding down his cock.

“You have no idea how perfect your pussy feels, baby,” he pants, slowly filling you up once more – your own wails stifled by his hand. “You’re mine, all fucking mine, aren’t you?”

There’s no hiding from the camera as he fucks you, slowly at first, but picking up his pace as the slick starts to build, your warm, velvety walls sucking him in deeper, squelching obscenely with every thrust. And between the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass – skin hitting skin as he fucks you roughly without care – and Tooru’s own satisfied moans, your muffled whimpers and cries go unheard. 

And just when you think your humiliation is complete, he takes his hand from your mouth, his thumb returning to your clit, teasing at the sensitive nub with slow, measured circles that have you keening, shaking beneath him as he stuffs you full. Slowly but surely that searing ache gives way to pleasure, a slight shift of his hips and his cock’s hitting that sweet spot he’s all too familiar with – and another strangled moan slips out.

“You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”

You shake your head, fingernails digging into the wood, biting down harshly to keep yourself quiet as you feel that familiar heat pooling in your core, wanton pleasure flickering through you with every swipe of his fingers, every harsh thrust.

“No? You sure about that?” he laughs at the desperate whine that slips from your lips, “I wanna hear it, baby. Cum for me.”

But you can’t, you can’t make a sound, the door’s not locked, the door’s not locked and anybody could walk in any second, but you can feel it coming, your legs shaking and toes curling as your control slips–

“Cum,” Oikawa demands, his own voice a husky, shivering growl, and this time you’re helpless but to obey.

Your orgasm crashes into you like a wave, suddenly sweeping your legs out from under you. You arc up off the table once more, white hot pleasure exploding as you shiver and quake, your pussy clamping down on his cock and gushing as he fucks you relentlessly through it, chasing his end while drawing out your own.

And you’re so lost in the bliss, the pleasurable rippling aftershocks short circuiting your system that you don’t even realise that he’s pulled himself out of your cunt, stroking his slicked up cock with harsh pants–

Not until you feel the hot spurts of his cum hitting your stomach, a choked moan resembling your name shattering the fuzzy afterglow, dragging you harshly back down to reality.

There’s a twisted, self satisfied smirk on his face as he watches the cold realisation sink in, your eyes filling with fresh tears as your gaze flickers between him and the phone in his hand, still filming.

“You’re not leaving me,” he says, still a little breathless. “You’re mine. Isn’t that right, Iwa?”

No.

Please god, no.

Blood drains from your face, the pit in your stomach plummeting as his smirk widens and he turns his head to glance over his shoulder. You don’t want to look, can’t bear to, but it’s like trying to rip your eyes away from a car crash; your body moves with a will of its own. Heart pounding, nausea churning in your gut, you follow his gaze to find Iwaizumi by the door; jaw tight, arms folded across his chest, staring impassively back at you.

And that last little piece of you breaks.

[poisoned-peppermint]

I'd throw this brick at you but that police car needs its window broken (Incorrect quotes)

More Incorrect quotes the bees demand it and I must fulfill their desires

Long post

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Velvet: Did it hurt?

Antfrost: *rolls eyes* let me guess, when I fell from heaven 

Velvet: no

Antfrost: What?

Velvet: *grins* when you fell for me

~~~~~~~

Skeppy: Hey, you wanna see something beautiful??

Bad: Sure!

Skeppy: *holds up a mirror facing Bad*

Bad: *blushes*

Bad: *whispering* I wish you would stop sometimes…

Skeppy, casually: only when you stop being so irresistibly adorable.

Bad: *blushes harder* 

~~~~~~~~

Skeppy: Who the fuck

Bad: Language

Skeppy: Whom the fuck

Bad: *sighs* no

~~~~~~~~

George: you know I’m jealous of you

Dream: Huh? Why?

George: your partner is way hotter than mine *walks away*

Dream: wait but

Dream: but wE ARE DATIN-

Dream: COME BACK HERE YOU LITTLE SHIT

~~~~~~~~~

Dream: *drunk*

George: Come on, let's get you home

Dream: I am

George: ??

George: whAt

Dream: I’m with you

George:

George: *dies inside*

~~~~~~~

Sapnap:Have you ever dated anyone?

Karl:No

Sapnap: *genuinely surprised* HOW!?

Karl: *shrugs* I don’t know, never asked, never got asked.

Sapnap: *under breath* but you’re so beautiful 

Karl: what?

Sapnap: what?!

~~~~~~~~

Tubbo: I was sitting there so like move.

Ranboo: *grins* Nah

Tubbo: Fine then *Sits on Ranboo

Ranboo: This is nice *hugs tubbo from behind*

~~~~~~~

Dream: Gonna see how hard I can bully the gay little protaganist kid until I get my redemption arc privilege revoked 

~~~~~~~

Skeppy: *sitting in Bads lap* Pay attention to me.

Bad: We were just making out two seconds ago

Skeppy: I don’t see your point.

~~~~~~~~

5up: I want to see us grow old together.

Fundy: Are you assuming I want to live?

5up: …Are you ok?

~~~~~~~~

Ranboo: Why must my feelings be “rational”? Is it not enough to sit quietly in my Hawaiian shirt, deranged?

~~~~~~~

Skeppy: I like my men fruity and pathetic. You wouldn’t get it.

~~~~~~~

Techno: I think killing people should be legal because it’s funny.

~~~~~~~

Tubbo: *mob boss voice* look how they massacred my poor little meow meow

~~~~~~~

Fundy: Vibe check! *eats your heart and absorbs your power*

~~~~~~~

Fundy, playing a rhythm game: no one will ever Fucking love me. Omg full combo!

~~~~~~~

Fundy, in a vampire voice: I vant to be emotionally stable

~~~~~~~

Bad: I’m well aware that I've accidentally set myself on fire and it’s none of your business. I don’t need your pity water either. Let me burn in peace.

~~~~~~~~

Bad while sipping apple juice out of a champagne glass and looking dramatically off into the distance: I’ve had it.

~~~~~~~

Bad: Blood is, of course, one of the greatest fashion statements.

~~~~~~

Tommy: Watch out bro…next thing you know i’m gonna be peeling an orange and sharing it slice by slice with you

~~~~~~~

Bad - mallgoth malewife manwhore

~~~~~~~

5up to Fundy: baby boy you are so cringe i want you

~~~~~~~

Tubbo: i go to home depot

Tubbo: i eat the tools

Ranboo: Stop it

Tubbo: crumch

~~~~~~~

Wilbur: No alcohol in this flask girl this is miso soup

~~~~~~

Bad: Do you ever get water hungry?

Puffy: Water Hungry??

Ant: Do you mean thirsty?

Bad: *blinks* oh

~~~~~~~

Tubbo: *Coming out of the shower*

Ranboo: Finally.. I can brush my teeth.

Tubbo: Brushing your teeth is the only time you clean your skeleton.

Ranboo:.......Thanks...I needed that weird out of the blue fact today.

~~~~~~~~

Skeppy: Babe ur eyes are like stars. There’s so damn many of them. Why so many eyes, my sweet eldritch beauty? Wh

~~~~~~~

Ranboo to tubbo: you alright babe?  you hardly said cows when we passed that field of cows

~~~~~~~~

Niki: *giggles cutely* i'm going to snap

~~~~~~~

Puffy: Diversity win! Im bisexual and im going to kill you!

~~~~~~~

Eret: *slowly removes heart-shaped sunglasses* I beg your fucking pardon

~~~~~~~~

Dream: Stop calling me a bad person just because im orchestrating your down fall

~~~~~~~~

Dream: half of me is a hopeless romantic and the other half of me is, well, an asshole

~~~~~~~~

Skeppy to Bad: “I’m feral and goblin-like” that’s great now can you get all the bowls of cereal out of your room

~~~~~~~

Sapnap: In my deffence I’m dumb as hell, your honor

~~~~~~~~~

Ponk : Dudes be like “I know a place” and then you end up chained in their basement

~~~~~~~~

Niki: “I could fix him” good for you I guess. I could be the only thing he’s truly afraid of.

~~~~~~~~~

Bad: I will never elaborate because I have no idea what I just said.

~~~~~~~~~~

Bad: every day I put on my evil little clothes and do my evil little tasks

*after the usual feedback* 

Bad: every day I put on normal pants and do my normal flippin tasks. That is what you guys wanted me to flippin say! Everyday  I wEAR THE SAME T-SHIRT I WORE YESTERDAY AND TOAST MYSELF A FUDGEING BAGEL IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT!

~~~~~~~~~~

Wilbur: ok first of all I didn’t “miss” the red flags I looked at them and thought yeah that's sexy.

~~~~~~~~~

Quackity: ok yes I may be evil and morally corrupt but I’m also incredibly beautiful and I think that makes up for it honestly.

~~~~~~~~~

Bad: Attacking people and biting them and killing them has many health benefits. Not for them obviously but my skin has never looked better.

~~~~~~~~

Bad: I’m not angry with you, I was being playful. I stabbed you with my fun knife.

~~~~~~~~~~

let me know if you want more along with the increasingly odd titles   

[kiridarling]

𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐃𝐞𝐤𝐮, 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐨

𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔.

→ Okay. Izuku Midoriya? A sadist.

→ And you've been a brat all day, because he's been busy fighting crime as a newly debuted pro hero, and you can't help it if Izuku's new suit fits him a little too well.

→ And of course, the one day he finally has time to take you on a date you two go to the mall, only to be swarmed with thousands of Pro Hero Deku fans buzzing with requests for photo's and autographs and other bullshit and you just want to clobber them in the head and spit the ugly truth in their faces—that at the end of the day, their lovely Deku comes home to you, and sleeps next to you, and the fact that they can steal his attention away from you is absolutely outrageous. Blasphemy.

→ So naturally, you start acting up. You roll your eyes at the next fan who asks you to take the picture and you scoff at the next fan that announces their love. You pile them on, offense after offense, and by the time you get into the car, Izuku's practically vibrating with anger.

"Say one word and I'm bending you over the hood."

→ Oh.

→  Needless to say, you're squirming the whole ride; though you're unsure if it's from his words, the dead silence, or the tight grip Izuku has on your thigh but either way, the trip back home feels painfully long.

→ The second you two get through the door, he's cornering you into the living room and bending you over the arm of the couch without a second thought, big hands yanking your hips back so your ass sticks out just the way he likes it.

"Bratty doll...you wanted my attention that bad, huh?”

→ Izuku exaggerates every other word with a harsh spank that has you whimpering behind a bitten lip. Though eventually, he deems your muffled moans not enough and aggressively yanks your bottoms off,  stuffing his fingers into your mouth.

→ Once they're wet enough, he slides a finger in, (because no matter how angry he is, you’re still his baby). But once you're ready? It's game over.

→ You figured Izuku was going to be a tease about it, but once he sits you on his cock and doesn't move, it has you squirming in confusion. What the hell could he be waiting for?

"Awe, what's the matter, doll? Did you want me to move?"

→ The hold his hands have on your waist is tight enough that you can't even twitch your hips—and the grip only gets tighter the more you wiggle in protest. Izuku tuts, landing a slap to your bruised ass that makes one thing clear: You’re not moving.

→ The green-haired bastard turns on the tv, for fucks sake. And has the audacity to pretend like he's paying attention to whatever's on—because it's not like you're paying attention, too preoccupied with the cock in your guts. You can't squirm because something tells you that'll only lengthen the punishment you've been sentenced to, but by the end of the first episode, it's a little hard not to.

→ Izuku caves the second you start begging. Mostly because it was what he was waiting for, but also he's probably struggling worse than you while he watches you whimper and squirm in his lap.

“Fine, doll. Since you waited so patiently, I guess I can make you feel good.”

𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈.

→ 100% your idea

→ And he had absolutely no warning. The Bakusquad decided to hold a movie night in the common room on a random Saturday evening when the dorms were pretty much empty. Katsuki didn't even want to be down there in the first place, but after you winked so prettily and promised he'd get a treat if he came, he didn't grumble nearly as much.

→ But what he didn't know was that you meant right now.

→ Katsuki knew something was up the second you sat in his lap and asked Denki for a blanket—that's rarely your Bakusquad move night cuddle position, plus you're always saying how you never need a blanket because Katsuki runs so warm.

→ And he definitely knew something was up when you started grinding against him, not even ten minutes into whatever shitty action movie Denki and Eijirou convinced the group to watch this time. His hands rush to your hips because if Katsuki Bakugou is anything, he's not a goddamn exhibitionist.

"Oi, the fuck are you doing, dumbass? They're gonna fuckin' see."

→ But as always, you take his words with a grain of salt, already blindly fiddling with the buckle of his belt despite his threats (AKA, I'm gonna fuckin' kill you, you fuckin' heathen). The metal clinks for a second and both of you tense, but it seems no one hears it over the movie, so. You relax.

→ Katsuki does not.

→ You wait for a loud crash from the television speakers and you're sinking down on Katsuki's cock, his teeth tearing into your shoulder as he holds back a moan. Both of you let out a shaky breath when you bottom out.

"W-Well? You gonna fuckin' move or what?"

→ You shake your head.

"No? Fuck."

→ And honestly, all is well until about twenty minutes into the movie. At this point, Katsuki's semi-comatose, eyes half-lidded from the surprisingly peaceful warmth you're both encompassed in. But unfortunately, this peace is disturbed by a rude awakening that comes in the form of none other than Denki Kaminari.

→ All he does is mention how Katsuki looks much too out of it, owing it all to "y/n's juicy caboose," but it has your boyfriend practically rearing on his hind legs in fury either way.

→ In the middle of all the commotion, you take the opportunity to wiggle your hips a bit, rendering the majority of Katsuki's arguments repetitive and ineffective. The bickering blond's shut up once Mina calls for it, and Katsuki returns to whisper-yell threats in your ear again.

"Do you want us to get fuckin' caught? Huh? I ca—fuckin' hell—stop movin’!"

→ But you giggle, having a little too much fun with this. The death grip Katsuki has around your thigh implies he’s closer than you thought, and the moment the action in the movie starts to pick up again, so does the steady roll of your hips.

→ Katsuki practically whimpers into your ear, body shaking with restraint because he lacks the proper space to “put you in your place” or however he wants to put it. You know he’s teetering on the edge when he resorts to something Katsuki Bakugou never does—begging.

“Babe—babe c-c’mon please, I don’t wanna—”

→ Katsuki’s nails dig into your thigh and he shivers as he fills you up, bottom teeth digging into his swollen lip. His quiet moans push you off the edge as well, adding to the mess under the blanket as fake explosions emanate from the tv screen.

→ That was...something.

“I hate you so goddamn much.”

→ You snort, rolling your eyes at his overdramatic ass. But?

“...But that was the hottest sex of my fuckin’ life.”

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀.

→ You and Hanta definitely do this once a month. At least.

→ Getting high with Hanta as your boyfriend is probably one of your favorite things. He's got snacks, cool LED lights, a monitor that constantly plays animal planet while the speakers play lofi. It's an experience.

→ And of course, you two get horny—though sex is a little hard when you're feeling fuzzy. Hanta's a high-functioning stoner but frankly, you're not, and even he gets a little fumbly when it comes down to it. Cockwarming seemed like the only viable option.

→ Half of the time, it's not even that sexual. Watching otters chase each other with his back pressed up against yours as you bask in a familiar warmth that only comes from true human connection is nice. Feeling his lips place butterfly kisses against the column of your neck is nice. Just...being with Hanta is nice.

→ But tonight? Tonight it's definitely sexual.

"So warm, Princess. You know your body does things to me, don't you?"

→ You didn't, but the way he says it definitely makes you believe him, and so does the way he rubs his hands up and down your sides. Hanta bites into your neck and you stifle a moan, balancing yourself on his knees.

→ You jump when his hand ghosts your inner thigh, and he chuckles when you bite your lip, eyes trained on the hand moving between your legs.

"Like it when I rub you like that, Princess? Like it when I turn you into a messy little puddle in my arms, hmm?"

→ You whine and nod, chest shuddering with the threat of an impending orgasm. Hanta curses behind you, the hand holding you steadily by the waist tightening.

"Shit—keep clenching like that and you might make me cum, Princess."

→ Hanta huffs out a laugh but you can hear the genuine implication behind it, can feel it in the pant of his breath against your neck. The thought of making him cum from something so simple has you hurtling towards your orgasm at an alarming speed, nails digging into his forearm as the weight of your marijuana-laced orgasm hits you like a fucking freight train.

→ Hanta moans breathily, eyebrows knitting as his own orgasm catches him by surprise. His hips twitch and it almost sends you flying off his lap but somehow, you don't go tumbling—though you might owe that to the vice grip Hanta has on your hip.

→ You two come down, basking in the gentle blue of the ocean as the chatter from the Australian narrator about the Humpback whales and their baleen teeth fills the room. You move to get up but Hanta whines, hands keeping you still via your waist.

"Lemme stay inside for a bit...'S warm."

[a/n: thanks for stopping by angel, and let me know who you want to see next <3. see you soon!]

—ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴀɴ 𝟷𝟾+ ʙʟᴏɢ. ᴍɪɴᴏʀs ᴅɴɪ

[mywritingonlyfans]

Angst fic with Damiano David

prompt: a angsty about reader being sad (dami bff) 'cause damiano doesn't feel the same way romantically. ps. there's a lot of victoria de angelis being a angel in this fic, and it's basically about reader going through it.

warnings: none? it's just a bit sad and longer than usual.

 All the soft touches still tingled all over your body. His scent was until now stuck to you, you never thought you’d feel happy to have woody essence along with cigarette smoke on you. 

 Folding the sleeve of his sweater, you put your tea in one of the cups you always use when you were there. His cotton piece was comfortable, making you didn't regret wearing it in the morning; it was cold and wearing your tank top from the night before didn't feel right. The shorts from yesterday, that were making your legs freeze were enough trouble for you to handle. The remnants of your clothes and belongings were collected from the floor of his room and placed carefully on his headboard, you made sure you were being quiet. Damiano has always been a heavy sleeper, but your counscious prevented you from risking disturbing him when he looks so peaceful. You had already spent much time at his place so you memorized where every thing in his kitchen - and others rooms - was; baking eggs and making tea wasn’t a mystery for you. You had even separated a Tylenol tablet for Damiano, so he could have it with his tea when he woke up with a wicked hangover. He wasn't the type to get drunk and forget what he did, nor were you. Since when you were teenagers, you have gone out and been drunk together a lot of times, and although your feelings were already present, nothing never happened. This time, however, alcohol helped injecting a dose of courage on him. Being honest with yourself, you didn't remember who started it; but the kiss in the midst of the loud music, his hand on the back of your neck, the exchanging glances while dancing and the moment he took you home, they were pretty vividly in your mind. You still felt relaxed, as if his sweaty body was still over yours. Minutes with your eyes closed was enough to feel his eyes roaming your body all over again.

“Hi,” he said in a slurred voice, cutting off your line of thoughts. You jumped, briefly scared but soon turned your attention to reality; a tired Damiano scratching his eyes in front of you.

He was dressed, wearing sweatpants and sweatshirt, duly comfortable according to the weather. 

 “Headache?” You knew he was. He was always a good drinker, he put up with it a lot, but he was never one to get rid of the effects of alcohol on the next day. You, on the other hand, got on better with this issue; fortunately from the night before, only the good moments remained with you.

“Yeah, a bit,” he giggled. “What a night, I’d say.” He added, in a lower tone. What was acceptable, you also felt a bit weird to be in front of him.

“I got you some pills,” you pointed it out to him on the counter, trying to maintain a normal behavior; with no shacking voice or sweaty hands. Quite impossible. “I made tea too.”

“Dear God, you’re a life saver!” He smiled at you, eyes crinkled and all of his perfect teeth on display. Contagious.

You grinned, feeling your body getting lighter. “No worries. I’m glad to help.”

“Y’know, when I woke up and saw that you weren't there I thought you were gone. You know? Friendship destroyed and that whole thing. I’m happy to see you; relieved.” He took a sip of his tea, and maybe a bit of your heart with it. You were an explosion of feeling when it comes to him, you always have been. “That sweater looks good on you, you can keep it if you want. You know that’s my fave one.” And, yeah, you knew.

The tension on you was no longer intense, comforting you to let out the breath you were holding. “It’s good to hear that,” Your genuine smile managed to say many things, you wished Damiano had noticed you earlier on other occasions. “Do you remember that one time, when we were younger, that you were a bit crazy about a girl; Alice was his name.” You stopped; in need of air - nervous - and watched Dami's attentive face. “She was the first person to whom you dedicated a song, you played it to her at school break. The cutest thing I had ever seen. I think it was there that I realized, a little jealous—“

“Y/N,” his voice had been almost inaudible, causing no effect. Had he really tried?

“How in love I was with you.”

His face was paler than usual, he was paralyzed; speechless. You had never seen Damiano like this, the men was always all over the place in a sweet talkative mess.

It took a few minutes for you to be able to read his expressions and realize how fucked up you were. The dose of happiness in your blood had been able to manipulate you to believe in what you most wanted to happen.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” your blood had gone up to your ears, all you could pay attention to was the pressure in your head. How had you thought that after one specific night he would suddenly decide that he was in love with you? After all of this time that you were just a good friend for him? “I’m truly sorry but I’m don’t—“

“Feel the same way?” You finished. He nodded, apprehensively. You have never felt so stupid. It was a mixture of shame, fear and insecurity. You were unable to look directly at him, you knew that there was no change in following a friendship after what you just said, much less after the night before. You had never been so screwed.

“I’m the one who should be apologizing, I shouldn’t have said a thing.” You whispered, realizing that the lump in your throat had turned into tears that you didn't even know were running down your face.

“Come here,” he opened his arms, walking towards your emotionless frame. You allowed yourself to melt in his grip. 

 Your tears fell freely; you could even try to hold it back but there was no strength left for you to think about it. Your crying was silent, as was the kitchen room. Your head was full of questions and cursing at yourself. Suddenly you wished Damiano had yelled at you, asked you to get out of there or said he wouldn't never speak to you again. It seemed easier to deal with it in this alternative way than to have him comforting you for loving him. “Shh, it’ll alright. I could never be mad at you.”

He talked about your friendship, but you knew that nothing would end up well. Maybe for him. But for you? It’d not be that easy. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I should have known better, you were so loving with me last night that I thought— Fuck, we slept together. Which I know isn’t your fault because I don’t even remember who—“

“Stop, Y/N. Look at me,” He was being careful. You were making a person like Damiano calculate his words, that made you feel like pure shit. You stopped talking, looking at him was still difficult. He understood that you wouldn’t be doing so. “That’s fine. I don’t feel bad about you liking me in that way, you’re wonderful. I don't regret anything, last night was great, but I just... don't feel the same. I’d never do anything to hurt you. I can't even imagine how hard it’s being for you right now.” His words sounded sweet and sincere. He had tears in his eyes as well. His ability to be so empathetic to everyone was something you loved the most about him. He was probably killing himself on the inside for breaking you.

You nodded, leaning on the counter. You wanted to ask him if he remembered that he was your first kiss at the age of seven or all the times he sent you vinyl records with some message - that he had written himself - inside the cover. How did he not feel the same, shouldn't you be everything he wanted?

“Dami?” You sighed. Your eyes were red, your face probably swollen. You then looked straight at him; that surprisingly wasn’t much better than you. “Have you ever looked at me and seen me in another way? Something more than just your best friend?”

He didn’t say a thing, just look at you standing there. You get it.

“I think I should go,” You broke the silence that had been formed. You thought about taking his sweater off, but since you weren't wearing anything underneath, you thought it was better not; you’d have to go to his room to change, and then pick up your things only to delay your leaving.

“I can drive you home,” he said in a hush, looking for his car keys.

“It’s okay, a walk will be fine.”

“It’s fucking freezing outside, I can't let you walk over there like that.”

You ignored what he said, walking around the house to the front exit. He tried to grab your arm just for you to step back.

“I know you're just trying to help, but I need to be alone right now, without you near me.” You tried to say it in the most normal way possible, you didn't want to be mean, you only wanted to be fair to yourself.

“Sure.” It was the last thing you heard him say before you left, feeling the cold wind on your body. You didn't know if he had entered his house again or if he was watching you hug yourself as walking slowly to somewhere. You wouldn't dare to look back.

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

“C’mon girl, get up here,” Upon hearing the husky, strong voice, you were relieved. 

 Victoria wasn’t wearing her usual jewelry and looked like she had just been woken up by force. You weren’t as close to her as you were with the other boys, however, you had never been so happy to see her.

You got in her car. “Thank you,”

“God, you look terrible. You’re fine?” You looked at your reflection in the rearview mirror and well, fine was definitely something you didn't look like.

“Dami asked you to come and get me?” Your throat was scratching, it was difficult to speak.

“Yeah,” she looked at you quickly, but due to your discomfort she backed off. More tears would come. “He didn't say why though, he just said he needed someone to come to you before you froze to death.” She said it in a way that made you laugh, even with your eyes filled with tears. “Did the two of you have a disagreement? You don't have to answer me if you don't want to.”

“Something similar.” You said shakily; due to your crying and chilly. Inside the car was heated, but your body was so cold that it didn't seem to be enough. You tried to snuggle in the passenger seat, letting your head rest against the window like in a sad film. Maybe that’d help.

“Here,” she handed you a coat, without hesitation you took it. “I brought it to you in case you needed it.”

You nodded slowly. “Thank you, Victoria,”

“You can call me Vic, just like everyone else,” she laughed.

You gave her a half smile. “Okay then, thank you very much, Vic,”

The rest of the day would be crying while you curled up in your bed, you’d let yourself feel at your worst; promising that you would try and change that the next day.

———----------------------------------------------

You expected the first few days to be the hardest, but it seemed to get worse with each passing day. Damiano had tried to call you a few times and in all of them you responded dryly, using short words, pretending it’d be okay. You truly tried, but you needed time to process what happened. You told him that, and then time he gave you.

After completing a month of the incident, you noticed how 'dependent' you had become on him. He was always around since you were kids, any problem you had you would look for him to talk to, now you felt like you had nothing. Your friends were friends of his, too, more of his friends than yours. You missed having Thomas failing on teaching you how to play guitar on your couch and besides you thought about calling him - just to distract yourself - you remembered that he was more a friend of Damiano than yours. It’d be weird. None of them contacted you at that time, not even Thomas. You couldn't figure it out if Dami had told them what happened and they decided to give you space or if they just didn't care about you when you wasn’t around Damiano.

Basically, where Dami was you would be and vice versa. It had always been like that.

When you saw that just time wasn’t solving anything, you programmed yourself to live in a way that you were busy all the time. Your routine became work, home and most of the time taking the work to be done also in your home. You didn't feel energized to make new friends, and going out on dates could help momentarily but it wouldn't be fair to go out with someone in the ‘mood’ you were in; then these ideas were soon discarded. Sleeping was impossible, you spent hours rolling over in bed; both for the flashbacks that plagued your mind, but also for the fact that you missed him. The nights were worse when you visit your mother or when she called and said, "Dami never came to see me again." or something like. “Are you still talking to each other? We don't let someone like Damiano leave our lives.”

Deep down, you knew there was no way you could be in love with him forever and that no matter how much it hurt at that moment it would pass. You started to repeat it to yourself as much as you could, so when the boys got in touch with you again you didn't hesitate to answer. Nothing bad would happen, you just need to pretend to be fine. The first to send you a message was Thomas, with simple questions, he acted like nothing had happened, you liked it. Even though it was obvious that Thomas, as one of his boys, would know this in more detail than you did (which was a lie, but at least he knew how Damiano was feeling about it, which you wouldn't know). He updated you about Dami, who was great as always, and you said you were doing well when he asked. You answering him made Ethan talk to you too, although they were all polite and delicate, they seemed more to be sorry than to miss you. Pity wasn’t something you were expecting.

After five months, you still felt like crap. You had tried to stop counting the days that had passed since you last saw Damiano, but it was almost impossible. You could still remember that night vividly, but you were still trying your best to move on; leave it behind. Mysteriously, you wanted to see him, see how he was doing and find out if he had anything else to say but you were afraid to see him, go back to your place as his best friend just to realize that your feelings for him had not abated at all.

“...I haven't seen you in a while. I wonder if you're alright,” you heard when answering your phone. Your head hurt, your eyes stung. You had slept on spreadsheets that you brought home from your work.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Shit,” she murmured.

You looked at the phone screen. “Sorry Vic, I just woke up I'm still trying to copy.” You laughed to calm her down.

“I thought I didn't have my number,” her voice became softer, as if she was relieved that you had saved it. “I didn't want to wake you up, I'm sorry about that. I just wanted to know how you‘re doing, since I used to see you almost every day, y’know?”

You thought about saying that you saved her number the day Dami called to pick him up at a bar since his phone battery was dead and he was in no condition to drive, but Victoria clearly knew that. “Is Dami with you?”

“No,” her tone matched yours; Dami had told her, now she was being careful with her words. “I saved your number the day Dami needed to call you, in case I needed to call you again.”

“That’s alright, thanks for checking on me then.”

“But he would love to talk to you. He always asks the boys about you or comments on you so that someone can bring you up to the convo. He seems a bit lost when you not ‘round to be honest.”

Somehow hearing that made you happy. Still, the image of discomfort whenever you thought of talking to him scared you. The phone line was filled with silence, until Victoria's husky voice filled the line.

“Anyway, I didn't call you to talk about Damiano. We finally finished the album and decided to have a small celebration at my house,” you giggle at the formality. “We thought you should go, since you were present in more than half of the process. I‘d like you to come. We’d all like you to come.”

———

Your heart accelerated with each step you took as you entered Victoria's house. The rooms had a glow of being calm and the music that was playing helped to make the place cozy. The instrumental of the band reminded you of Fleetwood Mac, and for the little that you knew Vic you would say that the type of sound reminded you of her. 

 Her house wasn’t crowded, there were only a few people around; some you’ve seen before, some you haven’t. You thundered your fingers over some vinyl that were arranged in a corner, pretending to read them. You were looking for familiar faces, honestly even for Damiano, but for some unknown reason you didn't want to make that obvious. Your eyes captured Thomas talking to some girls, and soon you felt relieved to be dressed according to the occasion; or at least according to the girls who were close to Thomas. It didn't take long until he noticed you standing there, you waved and he came to you. He looked surprised, still he didn't wait for you to say anything else, just wrapped you in his arms so tight you had to ask him to let go in between muffled laughter.

“Vic working miracles! Come, I'll take you to the others.” He said in his cute form, holding your hand as guiding you through the house. “So, how's our best girl?”

Your lips parted in a smile. “I’m alright, pretty much the same to be honest,” there was no time for him to ask another question because you soon spotted Ethan and Victoria with their beers in hands. They seemed to be shocked to see you as well; and it was starting to irritate you for reasons you couldn't explain. Thomas put you behind him, hiding you from the two of them as if they hadn't seen you already. He was being such a sweetheart that he had even managed to soften the anxious butterflies in your stomach; but not enough to keep your mind free of worries and Damiano David. Thomas made a funny noise with his hands as Ethan ignored his attempt to be amusing, pulling you into a hug. Who would have thought you would have missed them so much.

“How long without seeing you, I force you not to do that again. Without you we are just another disorganized mess.” You laughed at his nonsense. Your smile was sincere, like it hadn't been for months, still you were forcing yourself a bit more to appear to be actually 'fine'. You’d like to know if they noticed, even though you were appreciating that they didn’t.

“No worries, I‘m not planning on leaving you guys alone.”

 Ethan and Thomas started to discuss about something, Ethan was already under the effect of alcohol, and from time to time they asked for your opinion on how Victoria had been strangely quiet. Atypical of her, but she didn't seem to be out of place or uncomfortable, just quiet.

“Did a cat eat the tongue of my newest attractive friend?”

“Not this time,” she showed you her tongue, and then smirked. Her eyes shone in differently way under your gaze and her make up was making her look more mature. “Are you feelin’ good? Thank you for coming.” Victoria was happy to see you, you could feel that. She might be curious, but pity wasn’t something possible to see in her; different from the other boys. “You must be tired of hearing that question, I'm sorry. It‘ll no longer be asked.”

Her voice was soft, comfortable to hear. “I appreciate that. I really have heard a lot of that, but despite everything, I feel good ‘bout bein’ here.”

“I feel even happier that you came then,” she put her hand gently on your waist. The other two didn't even remember you and Vic were there. “Let's get you something to drink, we bought that red drink Damiano always says you love.”

“No way, it’s bishop cocktail?” You looked at her, a big grin on your face, even though you remembered that this was the drink you were drinking when the universe decided it would be a good idea for you and Dami to have a one-night stand. Just a lovely reminder. “Have you mixed everything up? like the rum with the red wine? or with red drink you just want to say you bought wine?” You asked, ignoring your internal conflicts. Everything would be fine, you ket repeating to yourself.

“In fact, I remember once hearing you comment you didn't mind it being mixed up in a random bottle.”

She pulled a glass bottle out of a bucket full of ice and you couldn't believe she remembered that; given that you could count on your fingers the times that you had actually spoken to her. You didn’t avoid each other, just didn’t have much of the opportunities.

“Oh my god, that’s so fuckin’ lovely.” You whispered. She was quick to pick up a glass and hand it to you, filling it with the so well remembered liquid. You took a sip, and the taste - or alcohol - made your butterflies calmer. “Thanks for that, tastes like heaven.” She took a glass for herself, by her expression she thought it was a waste of rum. “C’mon, it’s not that bad.”

“If you think so, who am I to deny.”

“Don’t be a bummer,” you bumped your shoulder with hers, eliciting a cute sound from her that made you laugh as well.

You wish that sensation had lasted longer, even so when a random girl approached you to ask something, you felt heavy; like a sign. Her hair was golden in perfect waves and her face was angelic in an almost divine way. You might have been overreacting, but she was the type to catch all the attention to herself.

“You’re Y/N, right? I was startin’ to think that I’d never get to know you.” She hugged you tight and you wondered if she really didn't know you. When she released you, you felt your heart breaking right there in front of her. She was wearing Dami's sweater; the same one from that night, the same one that you wore. You wanted to be wrong, but you’d know that sweater from a distance even after years. “He talks so much about you. Can you believe we never met?” She asked, alternating her gaze between you and Victoria. She had been silent, you had forgotten that she was still there. Your head was miles away in thoughts, making you dizzy.

“Hi, Bella,” Victoria said. You remembered that name. Damiano talked about her on a few occasions, anyways he didn't seem to be in love - or you just didn’t want to see that. Maybe you haven’t been able to read him due to your stupid passion. “How’s everything?”

She started talking to Victoria and you couldn't concentrate on listening; all the alcohol in the world would not ease what you were feeling. How long have they been together? What was so special about her that Damiano gives her his favorite sweater? Were they together when you slept together? How did she end up with the same sweater you slept in that day?

She held the cup that was in your hands and handed it to Victoria. “Are you okay, hon’? You look a lil’ unwell. Do you want me to get you some water?”

“No need, I’m alright,” she patted your arm, and then checked your temperature. She was being nice, yet you couldn't pretend to be interested in being there anymore.

Thankfully, Victoria put an arm around your shoulders, asking if you want to join her to have a smoke. “It’ll be good, fresh air will do good to you.”

You agreed. Bella was worried and you felt bad about having to run away from her. She looked like an incredible person, sure Damiano was lucky to have her, that was just too much for you.

“Do this, you will feel better. We can talk later and so you can tell me everything about you and Dami, I’d love to hear you, since you’ve known each other for so long.” You looked for some irony in her voice, but you didn't found it. She was interested in you; after all, you were her boyfriend's best friend. It made sense.

Victoria guided you to the balcony, or at least halfway to it. Midway, someone stopped to talk to her, she tried to dismiss the person, however, as it was a thing related to the album, she would have no way out. “Victoria, it’s fine, I need some time alone.” You whispered to her, patting on her arm. She looked at you reluctantly, but understand. There wouldn't be much she could do for you.

Entering the balcony you felt an absurd urge to cry, your eyes itched and your legs were trembling. Was being in love meant to hurt this much, or was it just a game of chance?

You tried to take a deep breath, ease your heartbeats, telling yourself it was okay. You just needed to calm down. You leaned your body against the wall and watched the place. The plants near the fence - which you didn't know how Victoria had time to take care of them - the streets, and then the sky. Starry and moist, made for good memories that wouldn't come to you. When you felt ready enough to go out and face the party again, you ran into the one you were trying to avoid, Dami. Minutes ago you were anxious with the possibility to see him to know how he was, now you just wanted to run away and wipe these last months out of your mind.

“Y/N,” his body collided with yours while his arms wrapped around you, it was supposed to be a good thing, that you‘d feel safe as the same way you used to feel, except that was uncomfortable now. You couldn't even respond to his hug, for a second you thought you would escape without having to see him. He noticed and gave you space. “I swore that you wouldn't come. My god, it's so good to see you.” He ran his hands through his hair and you remained paralyzed in front of him.

You tried to focus on your breathing so that your voice came out without too many complications. “Yeah... It's good to see you, you look great.” It didn't work, your voice was shaky making your lie sound even worse. He looks great, you didn't lie, he seemed even happier and well rested. You wondered if it was because the album was ready or because now he had Bella.

You forced a smile, but unlike the others, Damiano knew you were acting. He didn’t judge or question, his face became tense, apprehensive. He knew that nothing was right.

“I thought about callin’ you more, goin’ to see you or something. The boys convinced me that it‘d be better not, that it could be even hard for you. I wonder if I shouldn't have done something different to help you because I know I fucked up too.” His hands were undecided between running through his hair and staying inside his pockets. He was nervous, at the same relieved to have spoken to you.

“It wasn't your fault, I’d never blame you for that,” you sighed, smiling slightly. It felt terrible to make him feel that way about it, but there wasn't much you could do. “I'm glad you gave me space when I asked, it's still hard to see you or think about talkin’ to you. It is as if everything that is tormenting me comes all at once.” It was good to say that to him. He nodded and you looked at each other for a while. It wasn't as uncomfortable as you thought it would be.

He was a few feet away from you while you were admiring the night, with your back against the wall. You wanted to leave, maybe go cry in your bed until you fell asleep, still you wanted things to work out with Dami, you wanted that tension and fear of seeing him to get out of your head. Despite that, if it was necessary to suffer in that process, it would not be worth it.

“She’s amazing,” it hurt to say that, but it was the truth. “Bella’s amazing, lucky girl.” You smiled sadly. Saying her name and seeing Dami smiling at that made you thank God for not seeing the two of them together, hugging or kissing. He‘d probably put his hand on her waist while she was talking to one of his friends or giving lightly kisses to her temple, just because he felt like it. Damiano was the cute type, you've seen it before.

“She is, an amazing person. She was all happy to have spoken to you. I told her all about our teenage years and how you always supported the band,” He had told her about you, would he have told her about you being in love with him? You thought to ask, soon giving up. It’d be shameful if so. “If I knew you would be here I’d not have come with her.” It made you think that he had told her.

“What would you do? Would you hide me from her for the rest of your life?” You sighed. it was supposed to sound like a joke, regrettably your voice sounded too cruel for that.

“It’s not like that,” he mumbled. “I was just tryin’ to think of you and—“

“I think I need to go Dami, it’s being too much. I’m sorry.” You needed to get out of there, you couldn't stop the tears anymore and you knew it was a bad idea to talk about her with him.

You took a few steps back just for Damiano to grab at your arm, without putting strength, just like a few months ago, to stop you in front of him. You turned your face away from looking at his eyes, feeling as the tears run down your cheek. You'd never be able to face him, this situation was only proving that to you even more.

“Please, Y/N. Just tell me what I need to do. I will do anything for you to talk to me again. I need you, you know that. The past few weeks have been a mess without you around. Even little my mom misses you. I’d do anything to have you back like before.” He was about to cry, his eyes shone with tears and it was painful to watch. He could do anything for you to stay; except what would make you stay. Unfortunately, it didn't depend only on his good will.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do this,” you said in a lack of air, signaling the space around you with your finger. “But this, this is too much. It kills me to have to be close to you or to be close to things or people that remind me of you, seeing someone else with you doesn't help at all. I still think about the fact that we slept together... I can’t just forget it ‘cause it meant so much to me and to you, to you? it was nothing.” You were out of breath, you just wanted to cry in peace, put everything out until there was nothing left. 

 He released his hands of you, his face red and damp. It wasn't going to be easy for either of you. Time wouldn't matter; it wouldn’t change a thing because whenever you looked at him you’d wonder about how things could have been like if he had chosen you.

He whispered one more time that he was sorry, then let you go. He could have stopped you, but it's not like he knew what to do anymore. 

He watched as you walk out without even looking back.

——-

You went through the party walking fast, avoiding acquaintances and questions about why you were like that. Your body was heavy as well as your conscience. Outside the house the street was empty, the streetlights illuminated the sidewalk and along with the silence of the street you felt invited to sit there. You brought your knees close to your body, trying to breathe calmly. Pulling the air in, and then releasing it in a normal way. Your heart was beating so fast that your whole body was agitated. You tried to stay still. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling a little dizzy when you saw someone walk out the front door of the house. You dropped your knees, trying to look decent, but gave up as soon as the person came closer to you and you saw that it was Victoria. She sat next to you, pulling you into a hug. You were happy that she went to you.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, hugging her waist and hiding your face in the fabric of her shirt.

“Stop saying that you’re fine when you’re far from being fine, I won’t judge you sweetheart,” she comforted you, giving you a extra squeezing. You were far from being alright, but it helped, having someone there helped.

She placed her chin on top of your head, soothing you until your crying softened. She rubbed your back and whispered that it’d be okay.

“Did Damiano send you here?”

“No, darlin’. He said that you had talked, and then you had to leave, he didn't look well, I thought you wouldn't be either.”

“And then you decided to look out for me?” You laughed, still tucked in her warm arms.

“Yep, sounds like you need me, don’t you think?” She laughed too, causing the vibration of her chest next to yours make you feel taken in.

“Why’s love so painful?”

Victoria didn't answer, she was thoughtful for a few minutes, and then she stood up, holding out her hand for you.

“What?”

“I won’t be taking no as an answer, you’ll get in the car with me and we will do something, anything, drink milk shakes, fill up our bellies with pizza ‘til we can't take it anymore, or even rob a bank.” She held you by the waist, lifting you up for her. “Please,”

You didn't see why not to accept. There was nothing worse that could get even worse at the moment, maybe going somewhere would do you good. “Even rob a bank?” She nodded, pointing to where her car was.

A smile spreading across her lovely face as you realized you’d go anywhere she wanted with her. “Yes, even robbing a bank.”

[makeste]

BnHA 326: What’s up Kids, It’s Me, Your Old Pal Stain

Previously on BnHA: Ochako shamed the U.A. Clown Mob into letting Deku go back inside his own fucking school by giving them an hour-long speech about how not to be humongous dickheads. Kouta and Gigantic Fox Lady saved the manga by being the only ones brave enough to give Deku a hug. Shouto was all “man, all this togetherness sure does remind me of that promise you made that we would handle Touya together which you immediately bailed on, doesn’t it, Dad.” Aizawa was all, “for the one and a half people out there who thought that my losing an eye and a leg might actually make me less sexy, I’m very happy to prove you wrong.” All Might was all, “[standing outside the U.A. fortress alone in the rain talking to someone or something??].” Like seriously, what was up with that though.

Today on BnHA: All Might is all “here I am in Kamino having a belated mid-life crisis because Deku abandoned me and I’m a terrible mentor and everything sucks and I hate myself.” Stain is all, “don’t make me come over there and give you a ten page speech about why you’re still the goat while menacingly holding you at swordpoint the entire time” because idk if you knew this guys, but Stain is pretty crazy actually. Anyway so he does that, and then All Might gets all emotional, and then the lady from chapter 92 shows up and gives All Might’s statue an encouraging pep talk, and then Horikoshi is all “and it even stopped raining lol can you believe this shit I’m not even a little bit subtle,” and he really isn’t. But I still got emotional anyway, because seeing people reassure All Might that everything he’s struggled for his entire life hasn’t been in vain just got to me okay. Horikoshi knows I am weak to the All Might feels and he just goes for the jugular every time, that bastard.

lmao. “in the neverending downpour, All Might is...” yeah, thank you, glad we’re getting right to that then

“All Might is driving 95 mph in his busted ass car in the pouring rain, is what he’s doing.” huh

so basically a day or two after his adopted child refused to accept the handmade bento that he packed with love, my man is out here acting like he’s got nothing to live for anymore. this sure bodes well for certain prophecies on which the clock is still ominously ticking down

his fucking face though omg. is it weird that I’m kind of hoping more people ambush him just because I think it’d be funny to see them get their asses kicked like the last bunch

(ETA: or maybe he will just stand there openly not giving a fuck and basically daring them to stab him!! get it together please All Might.)

side note, “anti-hero supporters” is such a strange way of saying “people who hate heroes”, which I’m assuming is what they actually wanted to say?? this makes it sound like it’s a group that really loves antiheroes. “these Hannibal stans have been a real menace lately. time to go deal with them”

ha ha ha, fucking ouch

are you really gonna do it Horikoshi you bastard. are you really going to let that be the final encounter between the two characters whose relationship you once described as the vertical axis of the entire fucking story. are you really gonna?? huh??

huh

you’re telling me you were driving 112 mph and you still didn’t get there in time. you’re losing your touch old man. lol Todo’s ice is almost fully melted already, how late were you

(ETA: so apparently this is taking place after the end of chapter 325, meaning he went to U.A., hung out for a bit, saw the kids come back with his bedraggled half-dead protégé in tow, watched as they shamed the civilians into some long-overdue character development, and then was all “welp, time to go argue with the hero-hating faction or something because I’m feeling useless.” and Edge just let him go, just like that. though to be fair I have to imagine it’s pretty hard to say no to All Fucking Might.)

also belated lol at the fact that the kids were all “yeahhhhhhh we are definitely not gonna touch that thing, let’s just leave it here, he doesn’t need it anyway.” probably the right call to make since they couldn’t get a hazmat team on such short notice

fuck. ha ha ha fucking ouch part two

All Might please put that thing down before you get gangrene. also yeah, you dropped the ball, good for you to acknowledge it. nobody’s perfect and you did your best. but yeah you could have handled a lot of things completely differently. but I still love you

is Horikoshi really putting this flashback here. are you serious. what kind of fucking sadist

look, I swear I’m not one of those people that runs up and down the street shouting “DEATH FLAG!!” at every third panel lol. but this shit screamed Death Flag when we originally got it, and it’s screaming DEATH FLAG!!! even more now. like with the capital letters and exclamation marks and all. and that’s just a fact. I don’t like it but that’s how it is

ffkdjslk

“DID YOU READ THE SIGN??!” Horikoshi asks while zooming in maniacally because he thinks we’re blind or something. lol what

-- though actually, it only just occurred to me that this sign is actually written in English. I never really paid attention up until now and had been assuming it was written in Japanese and translated by the scanlators, but the writing here is clearly part of the original image. anyway so maybe that’s why he’s zooming in?? just to make sure everybody pays attention lol

okay fuck this

see, this is the whole problem right here. once again All Might is all on his own. Deku’s self-destructive angst spiral was fortunately brought to a grinding halt because he actually has support from his friends and family and teachers and classmates. but All Might never had that same kind of support, and it’s made all the difference between the two of them, and not in a good way. Katsuki wasn’t wrong when he said All Might and Deku were both cut from the same cloth. but now when it’s All Might’s turn to go all “I WALK A LONELY ROAD~~” once again, there’s nobody in sight

just, after forty plus years of him carrying this torch, I just wish someone would finally come along to let him know he doesn’t have to. all those things that he wanted to say to Deku are also things that he needs and deserves to hear himself. Aizawa was making a little progress there, but now he’s got his sad zombie cloud boyfriend situation to deal with, and we can’t expect him and his perfect hair to solve all our problems. someone else has gotta step up

oh my god

“you rang?” never mind I take it all back sob

omg why am I laughing. shit

this man truly has the best PR game in the series. we were truly convinced he was gonna suddenly become a good guy and defend All Might against the other villains or some nonsense. as if this wasn’t the same man who decided on a whim that Iida Tensei deserved to be paralyzed, and that his fifteen-year-old brother deserved to die for daring to be upset about it

lol even All Might is all “I genuinely never saw this coming” lmao

just want to say, for the record, I have always harbored a very sensible hatred toward Stain. feeling very vindicated right now. good job Past Me

adsfklwkfsdwgkj

ffffwefjslkg. ghsdlkg. dsfkkkslkjldwkjrg

STAIN: heard you talking shit old man

ME: smh that’s what I thought you’d say you dumb fucking Stain

STAIN: how dare you talk about All Might that way

ME: gljfljgk

(ETA: in hindsight I have no idea how I didn’t clue in sooner that he didn’t recognize him -- or, well, ~didn’t recognize~ him, to be more accurate lol. I think it was the whole “is that a slight against the heroes?” thing that threw me. Viz’s translation makes it much clearer that he’s offended on behalf of All Might specifically, not heroes in general. anyways.)

sob. so All Might is all “yeah I don’t blame you for not recognizing me in this sweet leather jacket”

good thing he still knows how to do this party trick

A+ reflexes on Stain’s part presumably pulling the sword back a few inches to keep this dumbass from impaling himself with his whole pufferfish routine. can you imagine if that was the gruesome death Nighteye foresaw. and he was just too embarrassed to say anything

lol anyways guess I was wrong about Stain everyone

way to fucking go, Past Me. you really biffed this one

oh wait

Stain sure is one wacky rollercoaster ride

oh fuck me lol I forgot how much I did not miss this

(ETA: “this here is the sacred ground where All Might gave up the last of his power and turned into a shriveled old man!! please ignore the part where I admit to knowing all about that, and yet pretend not to recognize said man when he’s standing two feet in front of me.”)

Past Me, I know we’ve had our ups and downs these past ninety seconds, but I’m really starting to think you were on to something. this dude has always been kind of insufferable. always acting like his high horse is a fucking giraffe when it’s actually a Shetland pony

dammit now he’s got All Might going off on a depressed monologue

oh my god my heart

shit

why the fuck does that hit so hard. he became a hero because he couldn’t bear to just sit back and let bad things happen to people who didn’t deserve it. I mean that’s basically the same as every hero ever, right? so why does it still hit so fucking hard every single time though. what is it about seeing someone so determined to stand up for other people and fight on their behalf. it just never loses its impact no matter how many times I see that determination mirrored in so many of my favorite characters

“I wanted to make the world a better place.” omg. but you did, though. like seriously, I feel like people are always dogging on him for not being 100% perfect, and fandom really doesn’t give him enough credit for everything he still managed to accomplish. this man came of age at a time when Japan was by all accounts a total shitshow, and singlehandedly managed to bring about an era of peace that lasted for four fucking decades. can you imagine having peace for that long?? that’s longer than I’ve been alive. shit

and he gave people hope. he inspired them and protected them and made them feel safe. and no, he couldn’t save everyone, because he’s only one fucking dude (and also because the whole time AFO was also out there desperately working to undermine him so that he could keep preaching his narrative of “heroes are bad actually”). but you know what he did do, is inspire multiple new generations of heroes who, if they can all manage to work together, will finally be able to accomplish everything he never could

so yeah. forty years of peace, and inspired the “that’s how we all became the greatest heroes” generation -- that’s a fucking win in my book. talk about having a net positive impact on the world. lol anyways now I’m all fired up and ready to fight anyone who tries to talk any shit about you, All Might

“but what if I talk shit about myself” okay listen up All Might I’m gonna need you to try just a little bit harder to work with me here okay. please calm down and stop blaming yourself for every single bad thing that’s ever happened in the world. do you remember that time Bakugou was blaming himself for Kamino, and you gave him a hug and told him it wasn’t his fault, and that he was only a boy, and that even though he was strong, even strong people can struggle with the burdens they place on themselves, and that you were sorry for not seeing that earlier? do you remember all of that? that’s what I want someone to tell you too, dammit. anyway please stop breaking my heart please and thanks

wtf

are you dead All Might

um

I don’t even have the slightest idea what’s happening lol

oh snap did he grab him so they could hide??

hold the fucking phone. don’t tell me this person in the background with the umbrella is here to actually do something decent??

oh my godddd

and here come the feels. oh boy. okay don’t mind me, I’m just gonna sit here sobbing over this fictional lady and her simple act of kindness in this weekly shounen manga that I care about way too much

FUCKING DAMMIT AND HERE’S A SECOND HELPING

DON’T MIND ME, I’M JUST GETTING DISPROPORTIONATELY EMOTIONAL OVER THIS WOMAN’S DETERMINATION TO HONOR A MAN WHO SACRIFICED EVERYTHING TO SAVE HER AND COUNTLESS OTHERS. I’M JUST HAVING SOME FEELS OVER HERE ABOUT HER HEARTFELT, DOESN’T-EVEN-KNOW-ANYONE-ELSE-IS-WATCHING FEELINGS OF GRATITUDE THAT COMPELLED HER TO COME OUT HERE AND MAKE THIS SMALL BUT POWERFUL GESTURE. I’M JUST OUT HERE GETTING ALL PROFOUNDLY WORKED UP ABOUT STATUE MAINTENANCE AND THE HUMAN RACE. NEVER MIND. JUST IGNORE ME AND CARRY ON

holy shit. I was not even remotely prepared. you can’t just do that to me. you can’t just leave all these death flags on my lawn and then suddenly shift gears to show me the best of humanity in a chapter where I was expecting the worst. that fucks a person up lol

OH ARE WE STILL GOING

my heart. you see that, All Might. your legacy is so much more powerful and meaningful than you think

...has. has Stain actually been giving All Might a pep talk this entire time

I give up lol. this dude is a fucking enigma

YAYYY

it may just be a metaphor panel, but I’ll take it lol. I missed them. nice to see the traffic light trio front and off-center. I know the whole “this is the story of how we all became the greatest heroes” thing had left some questioning whether certain characters would continue to play a central role in the narrative, and hopefully this will help to ease those concerns just a bit

anyway, so idk if it’s getting a bit chilly down there in hell, but damned if Stain didn’t just give an actual decent fucking speech

I have to say, earlier when I was whining about All Might not having a support squad, I really was not expecting Stain to be the one to come over and pat his head and reassure him that he made the world a better place

-- okay LISTEN

YOU CAN’T JUST COME INTO MY HOUSE AND HIT ME WITH THOSE ALL MIGHT TEARS AGAIN GODDAMMIT THIS ISN’T FAIR. my god. first 317 and now this

holy fucking shit

“I’m just gonna pretend like I haven’t been stalking him for two days and didn’t see the entire Deku bentogate thing go down, and then I’ll give him the whole big speech that I rehearsed, and then I’ll turn around and be all ‘BUT IF YOU’RE A TRUE HERO’, and then I’ll toss him the super-secret AFO wifi password that I stole from Tartarus. god I’m such a badass. fucking give myself chills”

so basically what you’re telling me is that this whole time my “what’s up kids” characterization of Stain from this shitpost has actually been 100% accurate. just want to make sure I’m understanding this right. okay then

“and then I’ll dramatically spin around and be all NOW COME KILL ME BITCH”

it must be so much fun to write Stain. drawing this coked-out maniac who talks like a chatbot that was trained to speak by reading Alan Moore monologues. that must be a trip

anyway so All Might is still crying, the awesome lady from chapter 92 is admiring her handiwork totally oblivious to the batshit insanity going on fifty meters to her right, and it’s finally stopped raining lol

“THE RAIN WAS A METAPHOR YOU SEE” yes, yes, we got it lol. thanks for that Horikoshi. don’t think we needed any help putting the pieces together on that one but I appreciate the effort

so that’s the end! and as I mentioned in another post, I had the count off by one chapter, but next week should be cliffhanger week! so break out your U.A. Traitor bingo cards, friends and fiends. either that or something else happens that I’m completely not expecting at all. which, based on my success rate with Stain predictions, I’d say is more than likely lol

mmm but anyway, so now that the Hug Deku 2021 campaign has finally come to an end, what’s it gonna take to get a hug for my struggling bento-preparing jacket-rocking world-weary death-flag-waving husband who is the worthiest man to ever live and deserves the fucking world, goddammit