#he was genuinely one of the best cats ive ever met in my entire life

[shroomyart]

ARTEMIS

04 / 11 / 2012 - 02 / 12 / 2024

rest in peace my little tuna fiend , you were so sweet and loving and you gave the best cuddles ever . i love and miss you so so much

[manonblaqkbeak]

Sugar, sugar

(genuinely hate coming up with titles lol)

this is just rowaelin being pining idiots, one of my fave tropes for day 11--delayed love confession

just a note, the lifestyle in this fic is more of a background note and doesnt really take centre stage in this fic. it’s one ive been tempted to write for a while tbh but didnt really get around to it until now

cw: very, very light smut (like barely non existent, but just in case), a lil bit of swearing

enjoy! :)

3k words (officially my longest fic, yay!)

Every thought in Aelin's mind was blank. She trudged through her apartment that she shared with Nehemia, absentmindedly kicking off her heels that Rowan purchased for her months ago. Then the light jacket she wore joined the shoes, the fabric was perfectly soft and perfect for the autumn chill.

It was yet another piece of item that Rowan purchased for her. A lot of the things she had know were thanks to Rowan, either from his own wallet or from the biweekly allowance he sent her—a generous allowance that was a thousand times better than her weekly paycheck from the bookstore she'd been working at since she turned twenty-two; her business degree had turned out to be useless and so she turned to the bookstore that had been her stable job for three years.

Aelin barely touched her weekly wage now, it was practically buried underneath the money the Rowan gave her.

Because Rowan Whitethorn, thirty-five and a successful CEO who was well known, was her sugar daddy. Had been now for fourteen months. But he was more than that, more than just a man that paid her to spend time with him. He respected her, was loyal to her, listened to her and responded with actual sentences instead of a word or two like other men she had dated. He was charming, didn't treat her like she was nothing but arm candy, and she knew him so well, as he knew her, and each fortnight she sometimes forgot their whole arrangement, but she was sharply reminded when she received the notification from her bank that the two and a half thousand dollars that Rowan sent her was now in her savings account.

When she agreed to their arrangement after several get-to-know you dates, Rowan had wanted to give her three and a half grand every week, and gods Aelin had been tempted because she had never had so much money in her life, but told him that it was far too much and negotiated.

Two and a half thousand was the lowest that Rowan was willing to go, and even though Aelin only knew him for two weeks at that point, she could tell that he would not budge, so she agreed to the amount.

The first time that money had landed in her account, Aelin had thought that maybe she had imagined the whole thing, but the money was a sharp reminder of what she know was—a sugar baby. Those words still didn't feel like they applied to her.

And he still spent money on her when they spent time together. Just last week he gifted her with diamond earrings in the shapes of roses with a necklace to match. She wore them tonight, not because he bought them for her but because she genuinely loved the pieces.

Needing something sweet—despite the fact she had only finished her chocolate hazelnut gelato twenty minutes ago—she dug through her fridge and found the brownies that Nehemia had baked the other day. She told herself that she would leave some for her long-time friend, but Aelin really doubted that would happen.

Aelin relished in the cold air of the fridge as she found the new can of whipped cream on the top shelf. The fridge was one of the first things she purchased with the money she was now being gifted with (and after that came a new washer and dryer, a dish-washing machine and television. Almost everything in her apartment was brand new now, the food were actual brands instead of the generic, tasteless shit. She had bras that fit her properly and were so damned comfortable that she forgot she was wearing them half the time).

The old fridge was a cheap hunk of junk that she and Nehemia purchased off Facebook marketplace for a hundred dollars, it barely kept things cold, but with expensive rent and bills and general life things, Nehemia and her couldn't afford anything better.

Which was how she ended up in this situation. Picking up more shifts barely gave them anything extra, because the economy right now in Terrasen was shit. Nehemia had made a joke about needing sugar daddies, and Aelin, knowing that Nehemia could never really do such a thing, had decided that maybe it was a good idea.

Nehemia had told Aelin that she was insane for pursuing such a thing, and that she had only been joking, but Aelin was not and that she could handle herself if things went wrong.

Nehemia had told her not to do anything, but Aelin was determined and started her search. It had taken a while to find a website that was genuine and didn't make her feel like she had to scrub her eyes out with bleach.

She created her page in private, because she not only was Nehemia against the idea, but so was Elide and Lysandra—she didn't dare tell Aedion what she was doing. Her cousin could be an overprotective pain in her ass at times, and Aelin was very well aware that if Aedion caught wind of what she was doing, he would have locked her up in her room without any type of device so she couldn't go forward with her plan.

She appreciated their concern, she did, but she was a consenting, tax-paying adult, and if she wanted to use her time to get paid spending time with a rich man, then Aelin was allowed to do exactly that.

It wasn't prostitution, she had looked it up, because it was the sugar babies that had the power and so that was how it went with her and Rowan.

Aelin didn't even have sex with Rowan until it was the sixth month anniversary of her and Rowan's...relationship (and gods, it was the best sex Aelin ever had. Rowan was a generous and completely unselfish lover).

He was the first one she came across on the site and almost drooled down herself when she saw his picture. Silver hair, pine-green eyes, a beautiful tattoo down the length of his left arm and tanned skin, he was stupidly attractive and only ten years old than her.

Aelin messaged him first only after being on the site for ten minutes, deciding that surely he was the best one and that she needn't bother to look at any other candidates.

They hit it off straight away, and after deciding on a restaurant to meet at, Aelin had informed Nehemia of the matter, which she was promptly met with question after question: why can't a thirty-four year old man find someone his own age? Is he one of those men that can't date a woman five minutes older than him because of some stupid made up reason? How do you know for certain that it's him in the picture? What if he's cat-fishing you? What if he's a freak, or a killer? What if he's just pretending to be rich to kidnap you? What if, what if, what if?

And so after a heated discussion, Nehemia had come along on her date-that-wasn't-really-a-date and sat a few tables away from her and Rowan, watching them—especially him—the entire time like a hawk.

Aelin had completely forgotten that her friend was there, so enraptured by Rowan and what he did and how he saw life.

It had been fourteen months of seeing Rowan and genuinely enjoying spending time with him and weeks ago, she realised that she wanted it to be something more. That she had come to care for him, not because of the money, but purely because it was Rowan and he made her feel seen and he wasn't afraid of her, because she had once been told by an ex that she could be too much and that he couldn't handle all her baggage.

Aelin wanted a life with him.

So Aelin told Rowan she loved him when he dropped her off tonight after their dinner and a movie date, telling him how she felt, and he had said thank you. He gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek and went home, leaving behind the pine-and-snow scent of him.

Aelin really wanted to find a hole to crawl into and die.

She was scarfing down her third brownie when Nehemia's bedroom door opened, her friend clad in an old matching pj set, her slippers shuffling across the tile.

“What happened? Are you okay?” her friend asked upon seeing Aelin's guttered look. Her dark brows furrowed. “Did that bastard hurt you? If he did, I'll—”

“He didn't do anything,” Aelin interrupted her friend. Taking the food, Aelin planted herself on the teal blue velvet sofa Rowan gave her for Yulemas last year, ignoring the scent of not just him, but of them both from when he came over after work just the other day with pizza and a DVD that she insisted that she watched because it was too good not to, when they forgot all about the movie as Rowan buried himself inside her, leaving hickeys all over her neck that she had to cover up with thick concealer.

Nehemia joined her on the couch, her friend momentarily forgetting for now that she had walked in on her and Rowan just moments after they finished, muttering under her breath in Eyllwe as she glared at them defiling the couch, and gave her a look that Aelin knew that Nehemia would listen to every word that came out from her.

And when Aelin was done recounting the story, all Nehemia could come up with was, “Oh.”

“Yes, 'oh,'. I've probably fucked up the whole thing. So don't be surprised if I call you on your lunch break tomorrow telling you he's broken things off.”

“Aelin, I don't think he will. I know that I'm not the biggest fan of your...situation—”

“I'm aware,” Aelin said, cutting her friend off. “You still won't let me buy you a new mattress, even though yours is hard as a brick and lumpy as hell. I've told you that you can pay me—”

“Aelin,” Nehemia said, “we're not talking about mattresses right now. As I was saying, I doubt he'll break things off because I've seen the way he looks at you. I still think he's too old for you, but he cares for you. You probably just caught him by surprise.”

“How does he look at me?” Aelin was observant, but sometimes when she was with Rowan, all her observation skills went out the window.

“Like he loves you,” Nehemia said, no hint of doubt in her voice.

Aelin sighed, her feelings slowly starting to crush her. “I guess I'll just have to take your word for it.”

Sighing once more, Aelin put the food back in the fridge, showered and went to bed, forgoing her usual night texting ritual with Rowan.

She really wasn't looking forward to tomorrow.

X X X X X X

Rowan couldn't concentrate, which wasn't a good thing, since his job dealt with having to concentrate all the time. But no matter what mind-focusing techniques he did, he couldn't stop thinking about Aelin.

Couldn't stop thinking about how she said she was in love with him. How her beautiful eyes had been sparkling when she said those words to him. And how the light in them dimmed when he said thank you and kissed her on the cheek, telling her that he would talk to her later. But he hadn't texted her, nor did she.

I love you, Rowan. I'm in love with you.

Thank you. He really couldn't believe that was what he said. Felt like an utter fool and a bastard as he realised he probably crushed her heart. Aelin didn't like being vulnerable, and she had been when she said those words and he had gone and fucked it all up.

Rowan loved Aelin, he did, but he truly wasn't prepared for those words. He loved how on the weekends they would be up at one am, baking chocolate goodies, dancing in the quiet kitchen, humming quietly to Aelin's classical music playlist, with her wearing not the nightgowns that he loved, but one of his old hoodies.

He didn't think that he would get along with her so well once they met, thinking that their online interactions were nothing but a fluke. He was moments away from deleting the profile because he didn't actually create it, but Fenrys had, his friend grumbling that he needed a girlfriend, with Rowan arguing that creating a profile on a sugar daddy site was not dating but probably the opposite, when Aelin messaged him.

His life-long friend didn't listen, much to Rowan's annoyance—but he didn't grab his phone out of his friends hand; Rowan blamed it on the several whiskys he had downed by that point.

Aelin bewitched him on that first meet up. She was intelligent as hell and funny, and creative and beautiful. He was aware of why she was on the date with him, but he didn't care, just as long as he got to see her again.

Fourteen months later and Rowan was still bewitched. He wanted to be with her on a permanent basis, but wasn't completely sure how to take that step.

Clearly, Aelin had taken that step for them, and Rowan was the worlds biggest moron.

I love you, Rowan. I'm in love with you.

Thank you.

Groaning, Rowan turned away from his computer and looked at the skyline, ignoring the buildings to instead watch the puffy clouds drift by.

Aelin loved watching the clouds, loved stargazing, loved questioning about the universe and what the skies held.

He never really paid any of that stuff attention, not until he met her.

Rowan didn't want to lose her, didn't want her to think that he was about to break up with her over this. He had to see her, so he grabbed his keys and wallet, told his secretary to hold his calls for the rest of the day, and went to visit Aelin.

X X X X X X

It had been an usually busy day for a Wednesday and Aelin was glad for her lunch break as she trudged up to the roof of the shopping centre. She wasn't really allowed up here, but she wanted some fresh air and to feel the sun against her skin as she sat down and dug into her lunch—fast food, unfortunately for her, because she was so frazzled from last night that she completely forgot about making a pack lunch.

Rowan hadn't called her, or texted her. Not even an email had been sent her way.

Aelin hated that she felt so damned mopey. She was an independent woman, but gods, even a good morning text would have been fine.

She finished her lunch, popping several mints into her mouth to get rid of the onion taste, when the roof door crashed open and a familiar hulking figure came into view.

He must have spoken to Elide to find her here.

Aelin's brow furrowed. “Rowan, what are you doing here?” Oh gods, surely he wasn't going to break up with her, she still had hours to go; there'd be no way she could work if she had tears in her eyes.

Taking her hands in his, Aelin stood up. She steeled herself against whatever he was going to say.

“I love you, Aelin. I'm in love with you, too,” Rowan said, his eyes soft and full of genuine love. Aelin's heart shot up into her throat. “I want a life with you. I want us to buy a home, one that has warmth and character, and a big garden. I want a dog. And kids too, if you want, I know that you've never mentioned it, but if you don't want any then that is completely fine. I want to support you in whatever endeavors you want to take, and if you ever want to go back to university, then I'll support you, or if you want to find a way to use your business degree, I'll help you with that, too. Whatever you want Aelin, I'll give it to you, as long as you're by my side, I'll be happy.”

Aelin was silent for so long that Rowan thought that maybe he shocked her into silence. But eventually, she smiled, one that was dazzling in its beauty that it took his breath away.

“You love me?”

“I do, Aelin, I love you.”

She kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

Rowan groaned at the amusement in her tone, in her eyes. “You're never going to let me live that down, are you?”

She smirked. “Definitely not. It'll be a nice story to tell our children...one day. For now, I think we should contend with being proper significant others.”

Rowan nodded, smiling. “I like the sound of that.”

“Good, because I need to get back to work, since I'm no longer accepting your allowances. I won't deny the use of your credit card, but other than that, you are no longer my sugar daddy.”

It was Rowan's turned to smirk, and it was the one that made her core clench. “How about I be 'daddy' instead?”

Aelin snorted, even as she clenched around nothing again. Smacking his arm lightly, Aelin kissed him. “Only if you behave,” she said against his lips, “and now I really need to go back to work.”

Rowan walked her back, their fingers laced together, and as she turned to say goodbye, Aelin said, “I'll see you later, daddy.”

Rowan groaned, and it took everything in him not to take her hand and into his car to have his wicked way with her.

By the time he thought of a response, Aelin was already back to work, helping a customer with an impressive stack of books in her arms.

But she knew he was still there, because the way she swayed her hips to the counter was all for him, and when she saw him watching her, Aelin winked, making Rowan's heart flutter in his chest.

He really did love her. And he would live with her teasing him for the rest of his life, just as long as she was with him.

[ffangirlingsince2001]

Nothing Alike: IV

Description: Geralt of Rivia has been tasked with taking out a fellow Witcher who has decided to settle down in a town. She has no intention of leaving and Geralt is forced to take matters into his own hands.

Geralt x Reader

Warnings: smut, angst, choking, language

Masterlist

He was shocked to find her still there the next morning, tangled up in his white sheets. She was on her stomach, face pressed into the pillow, snoring softly. She was surprisingly muscular for being someone so small. He fought to trace her spine. Despite the muscle he could see every vertebra, and he did his best to focus on nothing else. The scars reminded him of his own days at school, not something he preferred not to remember. Most of them weren’t deep, merely a reminder she would have to endure for her eternity. The rest of her was soft, even the scars were softer than his own. He would have to enjoy it while it lasted, because the moment she was awake she would return to rough and jagged. He watched her as she stretched, back arching like a cat in the noon-day sun. Through her early morning haze she glanced at him, tossing locks of hair behind her shoulder.

“G’morning,” she mumbled, propping herself up on her elbow as she rolled to face him. He offered her a small smile, a betrayal to himself. He enjoyed her sleepy too, it was when she was fully awake that he wanted to toss her across the room. She kissed his jaw before dropping back to the bed, resting her hand on her bare stomach. He trailed a finger down her arm, shocked when she jerked away, glaring at him.

It seemed she was awake once more.

She left the bed like a whirlwind, wrapping the sheet around her as she strode towards the window. She pressed her hands against the rotted window ledge, looking out of over the street.

He could still see the scars.

“So, where are we off to?”

“What do you mean we?”

“That was the deal, remember. I come with you and you leave your child surprise alone.” He had almost forgotten about that; about the deal he had so irrationally made as she stared at him across the table with murder in her eyes. That’s what had gotten her into bed with him in the first place, his orders.

“I had forgotten.” She turned around, biting her nail, a smile playing at her lips.

“Liar.” It was a bite, harsh and unforgiving. It was laced with a heavy iron chain, one of her own making, and one she was willing to bear in order to spare another. She claimed to be selfish, but it was clear that she was anything but.

“Come here,” he said, crooking his finger as he ushered her closer. She raised an eyebrow but drifted closer, allowing the sheets to slip from her arms and to the ground. He licked his lips and she blushed like the virgin damsel he knew she wasn’t. She knew, she knew fucking everything, and yet she acted as if she knew nothing.

That was when he hated her the most, not when she was soft, or jagged, but when she was acting. He just wanted her to be honest, to look at him and tell him how much she despised his very existence. He wanted her to scream, to insult him the same way she had when they had first met, and instead here she was pretending like she would obey every word he uttered.

He flinched as her knees pressed into the mattress. Her touch against his chest was soft, loving if it had been anyone else, but it made him wince. She pressed her lips to his sternum, painting a path towards his neck. He regretted his order as she swung a leg over his body, straddling his waist.

“Stop,” he ordered, pushing her off and onto the mattress beside him. “Stop, stop, stop.” She pulled away, as smug as could be. She knew everything, she had known everything her entire life, and she loved every minute of it. Without uttering a word, she climbed off and began to dress. Pants first and then she pulled out bandages he had never seen before. With the skill of someone who had done it a thousand times she wrapped her chest until it was tight and snug. She buttoned her shirt, tucked it in and tightened her belt. The only thing that reminded him she had been naked moments before was her boots, laying beside his. She climbed into bed beside him and he shifted, the discomfort had only grown now that she was dressed, and he was not.

“Get dressed huh?”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean if you’re not going to fuck me, we might as well get on with it, I’m paying for the room after all.”

“I thought I was giving orders.”

“And I thought you were too pussy to give them.” He growled and flipped over her, pinning her against the mattress. She struggled and he breathed a sigh of relief. This was her; the struggle was her. She glared at him, pushing and pulling at his grasp.

“Get off,” she growled, head thrashing.

“No, I want you listen.”

“You don’t have anything worth listening to.”

“No, if you’re going to be tailing me before I decide to kill you, there are a few rules you need to learn.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Geralt growled, shifting both her wrists to one of his hand. With the other hand he dragged it towards her throat, fingertips feeling the bumps in the mattress and strands of hair as they went. She struggled until his fingers closed around her throat.

“Y/N, I could do it right here, end your traitorous life right now,” he snarled, his fingers tightening. She coughed, arching her back, bucking her hips as she tried to free herself. “I could do it without a second thought, snap your worthless neck and go about my day.” She was practically unrestrainable now, twisting and turning like a wild cat trapped in a snare. “So, don’t test me, little girl.” He held it a moment longer and then relaxed. Her body snapped like a rubber band, falling to nothing as she struggled to regain her breath.

“Fuck you,” she managed to rasp through her breaths.

“You already did,” He climbed off her and began to dress, leaving her panting on the bed. She was right, because of course she was. The rush of not giving a fuck what the rest of the world thinks about his actions, well it was almost better than the feeling of her beneath him. When he turned around, pulling his shirt on in the process she was lacing her boots with rageful vigor, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye every time she messed up. He could see bruises forming in the shape of his fingers. She leaned back, fingers tracing the bruises as she stared at wall.

He stared back, daring her to say anything more, to test him one more time. That was really all he wanted, a fight that he knew he could win. She was the first person he had ever met who let him throw her around and fought back without fear in her eyes. He had searched for it in playfights with friends, real fights with enemies, even sex with whores, but no one had ever looked him in the eyes, struggling as their body went limp, without an ounce of fear. Yet, she had. She had looked him dead in the eyes, dared him to continue, and never shown an ounce of fear.

But now, now she wouldn’t even look at him. Her eyes were closed, eyelashes fluttering every time she touched a particularly tender spot. He watched her as he pulled on his boots. She was still herself, strong and fierce, but she wouldn’t look at him.

She wouldn’t fucking look at him. He thought about ordering her, demanding that she look at him, but the thought of her biting back moved his hand forward. He had assumed his hand would be harsh, angry, but it was soft. He gently lifted her chin and her eyes fluttered open.

“Look at me,” he muttered enjoying the sight of gold reflecting gold. She didn’t bite back, didn’t pull away just stared back at him, eyes wide and full of light that no one, not even he could choke out.

“I am,” she replied softly, and he chuckled, pulling his hand away before offering it to her. She took it and he helped her stand. When she smiled at it him it was completely genuine, not an ounce of hurt. It would have been impossible for anyone else to even know that he had almost killed her before, had the bruises not been so glaringly obvious. “So where are we off to?”

“I’m not sure.”

“So… just wandering the countryside then?”

“For now?”

“I’m not sure how profitable that is, but I’m all yours.” He hated it when she said that. It was always and would always be a lie.

“Anything to protect the child?”

“Anything and everything.” He laughed again before stepping away and holding open the door for her. She raised an eyebrow at the chivalry before picking up her own weapons and stepping into the hallway.

People stared as she walked through the bar. They stared at the pair of them and the bruises on her neck, whispering to one another as she strolled by. She didn’t care, he wasn’t sure if she had ever cared about anything. That was something he would have to ask her about: if she cared about anything.

The sun was rich against his skin, soft, warm, and golden. It was just like her eyes, perhaps even a little colder. It dulled in comparison, faltering even further when she turned to smile at him.

“Don’t look, but there’s a man here to kill me,” she muttered behind a bright smile. His head shot up and she rolled her eyes. “I said not to look.”

She wasn’t wrong, of course. Another man was standing down the road, staring at them with confusion and anger. And then he noted the bruises, fingers clenching around the handle of his sword.

“She has to die, White Witcher,” he called over the bustle of the street. Y/N glanced at him with a smile.

“I see you know each other.”

“Everyone knows me.”

“Awfully arrogant, aren’t you?”

“Only when people threaten my keep.” She scoffed at him and drew her sword.

“I think you forget, my lord, I am no one’s keep.” And then she stepped forward brandishing her sword in the sunlight. Quickly he grabbed her, pulling her back beneath the crook of his arm. She struggled, eyes narrowing.

“I know.”

“Then let me go.”

“I can’t do that, you’ve stolen his money, of course he wants to kill you.”

“Then let him try.”

“You just like the rush.”

“Maybe a little,” she smirked and he rolled his eyes leading her towards Roach. He pulled her on after he had mounted and quick as a whip they rode past the angry man and into the countryside she had slandered only minutes earlier.

What on earth had he gotten himself into?

[minerstatus]

Teyvat’s School for the Gifted

Summary: He's cruel, mean, and sadistic. Lumine cannot fathom why he has the  followers he does, but she won't fall into his hands like the rest of  them.  It was unknown to her at that time how such a stance would cause the biggest uproar the schools ever seen.

This is the silly drama filled high school/college parody AU nobody  asked for filled with Lumine not giving a shit and Childe trying to buy  his way out of problems.

Ship: Lumine/Childe

Tags: Highschool AU, Enemies to lovers, Slow burn, Jealousy, lots of side ships.

Status: 10/? on Ao3

Chapter 2

She had two options to think about after that ‘encounter’ or whatever you want to call it. Get in line like the rest of the students and eventually ‘hopefully’ her new toy status wears off and she fades into the sea of students. But that would depend on how HE acts after the dinner encounter. And something told Lumine from the way Amber and Barbara reacted to even speaking of the red headed devil he was a force to be reckoned with.

She tossed and turned in the night thinking of different scenarios for the morning.

There were boys like him back home. Maybe not filthy rich, sons of local shop owners, that acted like him. None of them possessed the same air as he did. Being able to part a sea of students just by walking has to be a superpower in itself.

Come to think of it she didn’t even find out where he was from, perhaps she should ask. The more info the better when it comes to defending herself.

She was never one to sit down and take abuse. When she was just in grade school the local boys knew not to mess with her after a few unfortunate incidents. Her mother always told her it was her blonde hair and honey eyes that made her stand out.

It always starts with them testing you. Small things to annoy you, just to see how you react. She would not be able to keep her temper down if that happened. She already had an issue with her mouth as it is.

She turned one final time in the plush bed she had been provided with. The school had made sure even the scholarship students were treated above average. It was impressive, but did little to dampen her jitters.

-

First day, which means new people and new teachers. Lumine was walked by Amber and Barbara to the faculty building. Razor was found sitting on a bench halfway there. It brought a smile to her face.

Razor had never left Amber’s side the entire night they sat talking. It was girl gossip that Lumine was never into, but enjoyed now that she had some people to actually talk to. Not many people are willing to come to a run-down farm for a sleepover back home. Razor himself didn’t talk much, but Lumine was observant. He sat on her bed and watched her, every action, smile, glance. Lumine was quite interested in understanding what Ambers reservations about him were. She seemed to like him from her perspective.

More questions for later.

A plump woman greeted her at the front desk. She was cheerful, but not like Mrs. Lee was, instead giving off warm motherly tones. Lumine could imagine her doting on all the students she came in contact with.

“Here you are dear.” She handed her a slip of paper with her classes.

“Thanks,” Lumine said quietly as she read the sheet. Alchemy, ancient runes, adventuring 101, history, then finally vision training. She internally laughed at the last class, perhaps they were going to rename it. She pulled on the collar of her school issued cardigan as it threatened to slide off one shoulder.

“Just head out to the academics building Mrs. Lee showed you yesterday and a student will be waiting to guide you to your classes,” The woman told her. Lumine nodded and gave back a genuine smile before turning to leave.

It was easy to pick out the student waiting for her in front of the buildings doors despite the crowds entering and exiting. It was a green haired girl nervously fisting her skirt between fidgeting with her glasses. Two small animal ears poked out from under her main of messy hair. She wore her skirt long, unlike the rest of the student body (and Lumine herself), and covered up with a baggy school issued cardigan like Lumine’s.

“Are you the one waiting for the new girl?” Lumine asked. The girl snapped out of a nervous trance and a blush covered her features.

“Ah! Y-yes,” She stuttered before taking a breath, “Sorry I get nervous easily, my names Sucrose,” she extended a hand.

“Thats a pretty name, I like it,” Lumine said as she returned the handshake. She hoped it might calm her down but Sucrose turned scarlet instead.

“I-I'll walk you to your class,” She mumbled and walked inside. Lumine followed silently, deciding the best course of action was to not embarrass her further.

She led her to a decently sized class of students with a portly teacher standing in the front. He wore robes and a ridiculously oversized wizards' hat. The site was an oddity in Lumines eyes, having only ever had exceptionally plain teachers back home. Sucrose left Lumine at the front of the class as she shuffled over to the teacher, managing to get his attention with a simple clearing of her throat. Lumine decided to inspect the chalk board instead of the students. She didn’t want to know if the red headed asshole was in here yet.

“Ah yes Lumine!” The teacher bellowed and waved her over. She stepped lightly up onto his raised platform as sucrose scurried to her seat in the front row. “My name is professor Rasmodius, take a seat next to Zhongli back there,” He pointed off into the right of the room. Lumines stomach sank at the mention of a familiar name. She dragged herself to the back of the class and slid into the empty stool next to him.

They made eye contact and she swore she could see the gears turning in his mind before he spoke.

“He’s not in this class,” He said in monotone.

Lumine choked on her own spit, “w-what?” she asked him.

“He’s not here, if that is what you are worried about,” He smiled down at her sweetly. Lumine felt her face heat up.

“I don’t care if he's here or not,” She quickly recovered and crossed her arms.

“Hm,” He put a hand on his chin, “You had the same gaze as most other new females.”

“Yes, well sorry for being nervous.”

“Perhaps I have made a wrong assumption, I apologize,” He turned his body to her, “Zhongli of the Wangsheng funeral parlor.”

Lumine fumbled a bit at his words. Was it normal to greet someone with your name and what company you hail from? She eyed him wearily for a moment then decided to screw it. Not like they wouldn’t find out if she lies.

“Lumine of a very poor farm outside of Mondstadt.”

He chuckled in a low deep tone. Lumine felt her façade falling as her heart sped up.

“Sorry, perhaps too formal?” He asked.

“You talk like you are speaking to a business partner,” she told him honestly.

“Ive been told that before, even by my friends,” He admitted. For the first time Lumine’s lips quirked into a teasing smile.

“Alright class today we will be looking into the mythical potions of Esteria! page 103!” The teacher commanded. The room filled with the sounds of turning pages.

“I didn’t get a book?” Lumine questioned.

“You will more than likely get them at some point today,” Zhongli told her as he slid his book over between them, “here share mine.”

“Thanks,” She mumbled, dipping behind her hair to hide her blush. Perhaps her friends were right, most of the group wasn’t that bad.

-

Okay maybe they were wrong, at least two out of the four were very very bad. She had not seen the infamous Childe today, but after alchemy Zhongli was very kind to walk her to the next class. Relieving a very thankful, yet worried, sucrose from her job.

They talked about small things, mostly how the school was going, what she thought of it, what kind of things she did back in Mondstadt. To her surprise Zhongli seemed genuinely interested in the day to day life of a poor person. He was awkwardly polite with everything, but had a sincerity to him that he wore on his sleeve.

There was just one sneaking suspicion she had regarding the man. How on earth does a funeral parlor have enough money to send their son to this school AND be the top of the food chain. Surely these boys were flooded with money otherwise the attention wouldn’t be as drastic. There were even glares tossed her way as they walked to the next class.

It was nice to have the attention, he had a smooth deep voice that sent her insides into a flurry. That was until they came upon Xiao. The boy was shorter than his tall geo counterpart and crossed his arms at their arrival. He glared at her as Zhongli added another sentence to their conversation. The words fell on deaf ears as Lumine tried to fight back a snarky remark. She had done nothing to earn this glare from him and it was irking her.

“Keep glaring like that and your face will freeze that way,” She blurted out.

“What?” He hissed at her.

“Ah,” Lumine back tracked, she didn’t mean to speak her thoughts like that, “you just look awfully peeved is all,” she decided on. He narrowed his eyes at her.

Day one, mouth already got her in trouble, nice.

They had a standoff for a few moments before Xiao conceded with a huff and turned into the room.

“Don't worry about him, he's weary of newcomers,” Zhongli said from besides her. She looked up to him for reassurance and was once again met with an honest gaze and smile.

“I-” She began to say and stopped to think about it, “I trust you.”

Even if he was lieing, what harm would come of it? She loses a friend she never even had?

Ancient runes was a snooze fest as expected. She sat next to an incredibly ordinary looking girl who should have hissed like a cat when Lumine sat down. It would have made the look she gave her less comical.

But things perked up in Adventuring 101. The class was useless to someone like her. It was basically preaching about basic safety the entire time. Don’t touch pryo slimes, they hurt. Don’t go off fighting electro monsters in the rain, that also hurts. Always have food rations and medical potions on you!

Blah.

She didn’t need this info, but it was a required class. Get a taste of everything before heading off to the college and decide what classifications you want. Stupid rules some adult made to torture the youngins.

It was fifteen minutes into the class. There was a saving grace, she had a seat next to Zhongli. He shared his book with her again and was polite and overly cordial as always. She assumed the class was full with everyone in attendance. There were a few empty desks but students could be sick or the class could have fewer students than desks.

Then HE walked in, opening the door without a care in the world, loudly. There was this beaming, disgustingly fake, smile plastered to him. A girl followed him inside, checking her makeup on a small compact mirror. They seated themselves in the empty spots adjacent to herself and Zhongli.

The teacher scolded him as he walked, but he ignored it with a shrug. His entire demeanor made her want to mop the floor with his pretty face. Just like the boys back home. She made a point to keep her eyes forwards or at the text in front of her. Not wanting to give him any ideas. There was a cold chill crawling up her spine again, he was staring.

The class continued onwards. The teacher quickly dropped the subject of publicly shaming Childe for walking in to class late. They were moving on to something at least slightly interesting she didn’t know too much about. How to read the stars and sun for location and time. It was something she never needed as she stayed close to home.

It was useful to her so she took out her notepad and began to scribble down some text out of the book as she teacher lectured. She made it a few words in before the girl next to Childe giggled in that high pitch way girls do when they are trying to impress a man.

She dared a side glance over to the table and noticed the girl enamored by him. Getting a full view of the back of her head as Childe whispered sweet nothings to her. He sensed her gaze and looked up, making eye contact. She went back to her work before the girl could turn, clearing her throat.

He was testing her; she could feel it. Between yesterday's stare down and this there was no mistaking it.

“Something wrong?” Zhongli asked her in a low whisper.

“Just a little difficult to get work done with so many distractions,” She growled.

“You will grow accustom soon,” He told her. She laughed quietly at his choice of words. Someone needed to remind him he was still a teenager.

The entire period passed with flirtatious whispers and laughs flying.

And not, one. God. Damn. Time, did the teacher say anything to the two culprits. Although something told her Childe was the true mastermind behind the distraction. She tried her best, she really did, but Lumine was never great at keeping her temper in control. Not when it came to completely asinine males making a side show out of a class.

Her pencil lead snapped on her paper.

“Shit,” she whispered.

“It seems you have snapped your lead,” Zhongli murmured. She refrained from calling him captain obvious. There was a chuckle to her right, this time clearly mocking and directed at her, she herself snapped. She turned and with pin point accuracy threw the pencil at her tormentor. The eraser bounced off his forehead, sending the object into an unknown destination in the room.

The smile fell from his features and they traded deadly glares. The girl sitting with him was busying herself cooing over him asking what's wrong. Oblivious to the events that just unfolded. Zhongli of all people fucking laughed.

She turned her glare into a smug grin reading ‘what are you gunna do about it? now shut the hell up’ and turned back to her work. She leaned back and crossed her arms.

“Well played young lady,” Zhongli whispered to her.

The option of fading into the background had vanished.

[harry-leroy]

OK. I've got to ask--Henry VI? I think you're the first person I've met who claims those as their favorite Shakespeare. I'll admit that I've read and seen a fair bit of Shakespeare, but I'm not familiar with them at all. What's the appeal? Why do you love them? Sell them to me. ;)

Oh boy, here we go :))))) (Thank you for giving me permission to scream - I also think I’m the only person I’ve ever met who has those as their favorite Shakespeare plays). Also, as we’ve talked opera - I think these plays could make a great Wagnerian style opera cycle. 

First off, little disclaimer: I’m not a medievalist, so I can’t say that I’ve definitely got the best interpretation of the Wars of the Roses and the history that the H6 cycle covers. I know I do not - so you may read these plays and have totally different interpretations, and that’s great! This will kind of be how I came to love the plays and why they were (and still are) exciting for me to read. 

I will admit, these plays are a bit of a minefield (as my Shakespeare professor said during a lecture on the histories and I don’t think I’ll ever forget that descriptor). Some of these scenes are not as well written, and many of them are almost irrelevant to telling a tight-knit story, so things get cut. Sometimes 1H6 is just cut entirely from productions, and I might venture to say that it is probably the least performed Shakespeare play. We get lines like “O, were mine eyeballs into bullets turn’d, / That I in a rage might shoot them at your faces” (1H6.4.4.79-80), which I might say is nearly on par with “a little touch of Harry in the night” from Henry V. But despite the unevenness, there is so much from these plays that are meaningful, heartbreaking, and that continue to fascinate me. There’s so much about power and leadership that we can learn from these plays - and perhaps that’s why I took an interest in 1990s British politics because there are actually some very interesting similarities happening - but also a lot we can learn about empathy, hope, and love. 

These plays have a lot of fascinating key players - it would honestly be a privilege to play any of them - and most (if not all) of these key players have some claim to power, just in the family lines they were born into. And this conflict is one that’s been building up since Richard II. With the Wars of the Roses we have a man who is unwilling, and sometimes unable to lead because of various circumstances, some of which having to do with his mental health, which was generally poor, and some of which have to do with the various times he was dethroned, captured, etc. - and I say unable for lack of a better word. Essentially, politics in these plays are caving in, and at a very rapid pace. There’s a hole at the center of government and people are ambitious to fill it. We also have a lot of people who could potentially fill that role, people who on principle, have a lot of political enemies. The nobles in these plays are having to assure that they themselves are in power or that their ally is in power, otherwise it is their livelihood at stake. 

We have Henry VI, who was made king at nine months old after the untimely death of his father, the famous Henry V, and basically has people swarming him since birth claiming that they’re working in his best interest. He’s a bit of a self-preservationist to start, but by the end we see a man completely transformed by the horrors of war and ruthless politics. I also think he might be the only Shakespeare character who gets his entire life played out on stage. We see him at every stage of his life, which makes his descent all the more bitter. (One cannot help but see the broken man he is at forty-nine and be forced to remember the spritely, kind boy he was at ten). He’s a man who clings closely to God in an environment where God seems to be absent. He desires peace, if nothing else, and he wants to achieve this by talking things through. He’s an excellent orator (one only needs to look at the “Ay Margaret; my heart is drown’d with grief” monologue from 2H6, but there are countless other examples), but there’s a point where even he realizes that his talking will achieve nothing, and his alternative is heartbreaking. 

We have his wife, Queen Margaret, otherwise known as Margaret of Anjou, or the “she-wolf of France”. I advertise her as “if you like Lady Macbeth, you’ll love Margaret of Anjou”. Sometimes Shakespeare can portray her as wanting power for herself, but I genuinely think she wanted a good life for her husband and her child, otherwise the alternative is begging at her uncle’s feet for protection in France (her uncle was Charles VII of France) while separated from her husband, having her or a member of her immediate family be killed, or worse. I think it’s important to remember with Margaret that historically she came from a family where women took power if their husbands were unable to. Her assumption of power in these plays is something that’s natural to her, even if it’s not reflected very well in Shakespeare’s language. You also see some fantastically thrilling monologues from Margaret as well, especially her molehill speech (one of two molehill speeches in 3H6, totally different in nature - the other one is from a heartbroken and forlorn Henry after the Battle of Towton) - Margaret’s monologue has got the energy of a hungry cat holding a mouse by the tail. 

Also Henry and Margaret have a fascinating relationship. Because they’re so different in how they resolve conflicts, they grow somewhat disenchanted with each other at times, and can actually be mean to one another, despite their love. My favorite scene might be at the start of 3H6, where Margaret has come in with their seven year old son, Edward, and starts berating Henry for giving the line of succession to the Yorkists. What strikes me there is that we have a little boy having to choose between staying with his mom, or going with his dad - it’s something very domestic, and I think the emotional accessibility of that scene is what makes it memorable. It’s not about politics for me at that moment, it’s about a boy having to choose between his very estranged parents. Here’s a little taste from 1.1. in 3H6 - lines 255-261: 

QUEEN MARGARET: Come son, let’s away. / Our army is ready; come, we’ll after them. 

KING HENRY: Stay, gentle Margaret, and hear me speak. 

QUEEN MARGARET: Thou hast spoke too much already. Get thee gone. 

KING HENRY: Gentle son Edward, thou wilt stay with me? 

QUEEN MARGARET: Ay, to be murdered by his enemies. 

We also have Richard, Duke of York, who is Henry’s cousin and leader of the Yorkist faction. If you’re at all familiar with 1990s British politics, as I have grown close to over the past month, York reminds me very much of Michael Heseltine (filthy rich and constantly vying for power) - and I would love to stage some kind of modern H6 cycle production just so I could make that connection. York’s father is one of the three traitors executed by Henry V at the start of H5, leaving him an orphan at four years old (historically). He is also Aumerle’s (from R2) nephew, and so when Aumerle dies at the Battle of Agincourt, little four year old Richard inherits both his father’s money and titles, and his uncle’s money and titles, making him the second richest nobleman in England behind the King. All this information is historical and doesn’t really show up in the play, but I think that kind of background would give a man some entitlement. He’s also next in line for the throne if something were to happen to Henry (until Henry has a son), so he feels it is his duty as heir to the throne to protect Henry (or in better words, he feels that he should be running the show) - Margaret feels that it is her duty to protect Henry as she is his wife and mother of Edward of Westminster, the Lancastrian heir, and so you can see where these two are going to disagree. 

More fascinating are York’s sons, Edward, George, and Richard. Edward is this (for lack of better words) “hip” eighteen year old who comes and shreds things up at the Battle of Towton - becoming Edward IV in the process and chasing Henry off the throne. He is incredibly problematic, but I might venture to say that he’s the least problematic of the trio of York brothers. George of Clarence is (also for lack of better words) “a hot mess” and feels entitled to power, even though he may not readily give his motivations for it. I think he just wants it, and so he actually ends up switching sides mid-3H6 because he would actually be in a better position in government with those new allies. And finally, we have Richard of Gloucester (future Richard III), and in 3H6, you just get to see him sparkle. It puzzles me a bit how people can just jump into Richard III without getting any of the lead up that Shakespeare gave in the H6 cycle, and I think 3H6 is the perfect play to see that. I think it clears up a lot of his motivation, which Shakespeare didn’t get perfectly either, because there are some ableist things going on with these plays. He’s just as bloodthirsty, just as cynical, but in this play, he wins out the day. 

These are just a few of the main characters. We’ve also got Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick (known to history as “The Kingmaker”), who is this incredibly powerful nobleman who is wicked skilled in battle and seems to have a lot of luck in that area (until he doesn’t). We’ve got Clifford, who is just as bloodthirsty as Richard III (if not more so). We’ve also got Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester - Henry’s uncle and quite unpopular with his fellow noblemen, and Eleanor Cobham, his wife who gets caught in the act of witchcraft. (Talk to my lovely friend @nuingiliath if you want to hear about Humphrey or Eleanor). Joan of Arc also makes an appearance in 1H6, and often she’s the only reason that 1H6 gets performed. 

There are so many ways to latch onto this cycle, and it can be for the huge arcs that these characters go on, or it can be for the very small reasons, like in the first scene of 3H6, like I mentioned earlier. It’s very much akin to Titus Andronicus in the language (I did a bit of research a while ago about the use of animal-focused language in Shakespeare’s plays, and the H6 cycle and Titus Andronicus lead the charts just in terms of frequency of people being referred to metaphorically as animals- they’re also chronological neighbors, all written very early in Shakespeare’s career). Also, these plays held a huge amount of weight at the time they were written - the effects of the Wars of the Roses were still pressing over the political climate of the 1590s. 

I think these plays are great to read just in being able to contextualize the histories as a whole - you get to know how things fared after Henry V (spoiler: not well), and you also get the lead up to Richard III. The ghosts in Richard’s dream make sense after reading the H6 cycle - because those ghosts lived in the H6 cycle, and (spoiler: Richard wronged them in the H6 cycle). They were also the first of Shakespeare’s history plays, so you read subsequent histories plays that make subtle references to the H6 cycle, and I think you can take so much more out of the rest of the histories plays once you’ve read these. 

I hope this was a little informative, and perhaps persuaded you to check them out! 

Productions I recommend (you can click on the bold titles and it’ll take you to where you can access these productions): 

Shakespeare’s Globe at Barnet (2013) // Graham Butler (Henry VI), Mary Doherty (Margaret of Anjou), Brendan O’Hea (Richard, Duke of York), Simon Harrison (Richard of Gloucester) - filmed at Barnet, location of the Battle of Barnet, where Warwick was killed in 1471. 

ESC Production (1990) // Paul Brennen (Henry VI), June Watson (Margaret of Anjou), Barry Stanton (Richard, Duke of York), Andrew Jarvis (Richard of Gloucester) - a more modern production, one cast put together all seven major Plantagenet history plays (1H6 and 2H6 are combined into one play - a normal practice). Sometimes this footage can be a bit fuzzy, but I loved this production. 

The Hollow Crown Season 2 // Tom Sturridge (Henry VI), Sophie Okonedo (Margaret of Anjou), Adrian Dunbar (Richard, Duke of York), Benedict Cumberbatch (Richard of Gloucester) - done in a film-like style, also with some pretty big name actors as you can see. Season 1 stars Ben Whishaw as Richard II, Jeremy Irons as Henry IV, Simon Russell Beale as Falstaff, and Tom Hiddleston as Hal/Henry V. (also available on iTunes) 

RSC Wars of the Roses (1965) // David Warner (Henry VI), Peggy Ashcroft (Margaret of Anjou), Donald Sinden (Richard, Duke of York), Ian Holm (Richard of Gloucester) - black and white film, done in parts on YouTube. 

BBC Henry VI Plays (1983) // Peter Benson (Henry VI), Julia Foster (Margaret of Anjou), Bernard Hill (Richard, Duke of York), Ron Cook (Richard of Gloucester) - features my favorite filmed performance of Edward IV (played by Brian Protheroe), and my favorite filmed performance of Warwick (played by Mark Wing-Davey). 

Also if you ever get to see Rosa Joshi’s production of an all female H6 cycle... *like every time I see photos my immediate reaction is *heart eyes* I haven’t seen it yet, but my amazing friend and fellow Shakespearean @princess-of-france has - I’m sure she’d love to talk more about it sometime! I’ll leave a picture I found on the internet... 

Also tagging @suits-of-woe because we could cry about these plays all day. 

[cainfm]

『BILL SKARSGARD ❙ NONBINARY』 ⟿ looks like CAIN ROMANOV is here for THEIR SENIOR year as a LITERATURE student. THEY are 25 years old & known to be RIGHTEOUS, TRUE, EVASIVE & GUARDED. They’re living in MORIS, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ JAMES. 21. EST. SHE/THEY.

hdsjnf hello all ... it is james again ... here with another ... replacing noelle with cain bt it’s fine im fine. i’ve hit muse limit u wn’t hear frm me again ... so hit tht like button .. this isnt the best intro ive done bt mostly bc im just kinda like ... taking an old one n rewriting it as i go

TW CULTS, HEROIN USE / ADDICTION, DRUG ADDICTION / USE, ABUSE, PSYCHOLOGICAL / EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION, PTSD, ANXIETY, TRAUMA.

aesthetics.

dangling limbs from tree branches, yellowed book pages, opened bottles of vintage wine, oversized sweaters and deep under eyes, bleached denim, worn leather gloves, cat hair against black cloth, fields of wheat, broken windows, descending staircases, tight-lipped smiles during public appearances, golden skies, light spilling from windows, stumbling over one’s own words, wire-framed beds, linens, wool scarves, making the wrong decisions; running, from others and yourself.

basic info.

full name: cain alexei romanov

nickname(s): n/a

b.o.d. - feb 19th, pisces :) happy birthday!

label(s): the connard (previously), the escapist, the facade, the fallen, the lothario (previously), the pariah, the phoenix, the puppeteer (previously), the sybarite, etc.

height: 6′4″ ... bruv.

hometown: stratford, connecticut

sexuality: bisexual uwu?

pinterest

stats

inspired by: i feel like i did ... have an inspiration for him but i don’t ... remember ... so ur not getting this one ... i might edit this later if smth pops into my head but. alas.

biography.

born to connecticut senator vaughn romanov and well known philanthropist adelaide romanov, they were born into a life of privilege in a very prominent new england family. they’re the eldest of five in a very nuclear, picture perfect, preppy chic family.

was brought up to be a class a, outstanding, perfect citizen. golden child to the all american family (willfully ignoring the fact that his father came from russian immigrants). cain listened, obeyed, never strayed outside the lines.

it was always intended for cain to take on after their father, to follow in his footsteps and become a politician too. there were several expectations for them, including joining model un, debate, deca, splitting time between soccer, track, basketball, lacrosse, becoming class president, and all while maintaining a valedictorian - worthy gpa.

even volunteered on the weekends at homeless shelters and food banks, proving to everybody in their community just how much of a gem they were, darling, perfect member of society.

always eager as a child, eager for approval, eager to impress and wow and dazzle authorities and adults alike - cain never really had a problem with any of it? always attended church on sundays and sometimes even wednesdays. participated in family dinners and christmas photoshoots and new years eve parties, easter egg hunts and family reunions.

born and raised in stratford, super close to lovell to the point where it’d always been expected that the romanov children would simply just go to radcliffe, as did their parents. their home in stratford is a big, fancy, seven bedroom eight bath house with two fireplaces and an expansive dining room. no pool, but a sturdy treehouse made by scratch.

however. their model citizen persona was just that, a persona - a charade. in the community and to his family, cain was a hardworking citizen who upheld standards, a leader. to classmates and peers, from elementary to college - cain was the devil themself.

arrogant, harrowing, an outright bully who tore down others when they felt like it, often unprovoked. they were the senator’s son, and a rich one at that - rules never applying because they simply never existed for them, the upmost privilege because of who their family happened to be and their place in society. tattlers of their behavior faced far more consequence than cain ever did, or would.

the sort of person who’d genuinely look down at someone if they had less than them - a narcissistic dickhead who cared about two or three people, tops, outside of their family. was never physically violent, nor did they raise their voice, but that’s what made them all the worse. made them all the scarier. spewed classist bullshit with ease and was addicted to the power high it gave them.

their only redeeming quality was their protectiveness over their family - never the best person, but family is family, and they thought it ought’d to be protected.

went into political science and business to please their father, mainly, every step they made - every path cain went down, every choice from the electives they took in high school to the brand of shoes they wore, was to build them into the ideal presidential candidate.

probably joined a frat though cain never participated in parties too often, known for keeping their composure even when others resorted to violence, or got too drunk, or caused any public commotion, because they didn’t like to leave a bad image for the press. did their drugs in private but left nothing to the imagination, publicly.

but alas. during college, two very important series of events occurred.

seeking thrills, searching for fun in all the wrong places - cain became a middle-man between dealers and producers. never dealt it, and never produced it, but simply transported it between one another; the less everybody knew about each other the better. it was always a very hushed operation. one that they could’ve profited much off of, though money was never the motive for them.

and then he met earl and may meyers, fellow volunteers at a thanksgiving food drive; an older couple immediately drawn to cain, reasonable considering just who their father was, and cain to them. they can’t tell you what about the couple was so appealing - the air around them was something else entirely; some called it unhinged, others would call it comforting. but they were kind folks, down to earth - very religious, and very warmhearted. liked his name, a lot - like in the bible, they’d say, and laugh, and pat his arm. they would say, on occasion, that they reminded them of their late son.

it’d happened towards the end of their junior year, a few years after they’d gotten involved in the drug business - and the meyers were volunteering more and more, always at the same places as cain. the same times, too, as if they were learning his schedule. in retrospect - it was odd, but cain’d never suspected a thing. they kept talking, and it became a genuine friendship - a secured vote in the next election.

it only took a few months into this that they’d begun to talk about religion more. the sin of wealth, and god choosing only a select few when he cleanses the earth. only the worthiest souls. they’d eventually get into the rhythm of telling cain they were special - that they could see they’d be selected, see it in their aura, in their dreams, god sending them messages, etc. most would find it to be absolutely ... bonkers.

but it was oddly appealing to cain - like, maybe i am being constrained by capitalism. maybe i am disappointing god - aren’t i a devoted follower? it felt nearly ridiculous, but it seeped into their mind. psychological manipulation, lasting over months and cain unsuspecting. as if they could ever be the one manipulated. but the meyers could ask cain to jump, and they’d simply say - how high?

soon enough, earl and may told them that they were moving. that there’d been so many more like them and that it was time to join them, time to prepare - to get ready for the rapture. cain held off at first, finishing up their first term of their senior year and their life planned right before their eyes. everything they’d ever worked for. their loyal companions and close-knit family, their side-business that’d only gotten stronger - a long-term girlfriend and the engagement ring that burnt in their pocket, made their heart beat twice as fast at the very thought. still the same as before, cruel without a cause, but still surrounded by those who loved them - who could find something in them to love.

but a month into their senior year, cain had a sudden change of heart. they were ready, now, if not now then never later. all because of a third event. a surprise. a shock. a betrayal.

they had discovered that they were not their father’s child - not at all, not even by an inch. they were someone else’s, completely. their mother had broken down and cracked, after a particularly straining christmas party. the discussion was long, and the heartbreak only grew. the anger only grew. the hurt - it grew. more and more, with each pitiful sob their mother gave them. it was a mistake - a one night stand in a fit of petty anger in the very early stages of their marriage. and only cain knew - like they had to carry this weight, now, that they never asked to have.

it was the kind of information that broke a person. cain idolized their parents, done everything they’d ever asked - ever expected, and beyond, let them mold them like putty into whatever form they wanted. only to find out that in the end, it didn’t matter. it never mattered, if cain wasn’t the blood child of vaughn. if their mother - a woman who hadn’t a bad bone in her body, was nothing but a cheat and a liar.

cain unraveled.

they spent the first week getting into an altercation with near anybody who looked at them wrong. physical, usually - though arguments arose frequently as well. with no explanation, only thrown fists - often drunk, or high, or sober too - it never mattered. they spent a night in county jail, it’d gotten so bad. it seemed to have no end.

right until new years, just after midnight, when cain had disappeared without a word. it was treated like a missing persons case, though there was no evidence of foul play or kidnapping, and not much could be done about it.

BEGINNING OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS

the only people who knew of cain’s whereabouts were the meyers - because they had left together. a last minute decision that, if they had only waited a simple minute longer, would’ve never happened. a mistake they desperately wished they could take back. a mistake that led to another event - maybe the most important one of them all.

they’d gone only hours away from stratford, and lovell, the border between new york and connecticut and not as far as cain had initially thought, but deep, deep into the woods. that was where the cult’d been. they wore white linens and cotton, but never mixed. technology banned, prayers and daily chores. it was natural, at first. for the first three months, that was.

it could’ve been grand. it was peaceful, and mind-clearing, and they treated cain as if their birth was a sign from the angels. cain come to undo his past. a potential leader. but the longer they stayed, the more apparent it became that they weren’t all that the cult had wanted, so desperately, to believe. once they began to slip up, once members became displeased - that’s when the punishments began to occur.

sometimes once a week, but sometimes - and, later, much more so, multiple. the memories are suppressed, for the most part - but there are some things they simply can’t - the hands, they can’t forget. pulling, and tugging, and gripping - begging, asking him to repent, please, repent. their head held underwater, counting seconds until their vision’d eventually darken and go out, only to be pulled out gasping and sobbing. these memories stay - these memories repeat themselves, like a record stuck on repeat, days blurring into one another.

when they tried to fight back - they were subdued. heroin was the first step. little by little, everyday - enough to leave them in a high they wouldn’t remember; enough to burn a hole in their memory. and with these dimming memories, cain’d begin to sneak paper and pencil into their living arrangement, their room, writing everyday. wrote as much as they could remember from home - about their family, their life before it all - the people they loved. they couldn’t remember what they’d written, some days.

and when those notes were found, bound by thread taken from their own clothing to form a shabby book - that’d been the final straw. dragged, kicking and screaming - mind-numbingly high, into place. the twisted reenactment, retelling of cain’s demise. how exactly he’d gotten his scar. it would’ve been near perfect, if they had only stayed still and let them brand the mark into his forehead. but instead - they settled, eventually, for the chest. then - the left cain to die in the middle of the woods. in the middle of nowhere. no trails or campsites to follow, nothing at all. nothing but trees. nothing but his notes and the clothes on their back. they hadn’t even known what day it was - almost forgotten the year, too.

cain should’ve died there, but cain got up. and they ran. and ran. and ran. until they hit something, eventually. a road. it’d been pure luck that they’d found a car near immediately afterwards, whose driver wasn’t doubling as a murderer, who took them to the hospital - and who gave cain that chance to live. they were found on new years, a full cycle - a full year in the cult that’d changed their life.

END OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS. PROCEED WITH CAUTION. STILL MENTIONS OF TRAUMA / MENTAL HEALTH / RECOVERY / ADDICTION BEYOND THIS POINT.

after being reunited with their family in the hospital - everything went by very fast. they couldn’t recognize their youngest sibling, but they also couldn’t remember why they’d left in the first place. couldn’t remember the name of their girlfriend, but the color of her hair and the way she smelled. they couldn’t give answers to their actions.

and after being put into therapy and recovery for their addiction - that’s when they find out that their father’s a presidential candidate, that they had been - that they used cain’s disappearance as a story for the press, one to garner votes. their return is national news, and their public opinion skyrockets. it’s supposed to be glorious, and a miracle, a blessing - but cain feels restrained. confined to the role they’d always been expected to play - expected to get up and continue with their life, as if nothing had happened. 

but nothing didn’t happen - everything happened, and cain’s different now, vastly so - no longer who they thought they were. they change their major to literature, abandon politics. they get some cats, start working at the library, and they put on some leather gloves - their method of staying away, of keeping a comfortable distance. they are different, now, and simply only wish to focus on their recovery.

personality.

they’re no longer who they once were. a year of trauma does things to a person - and with memory loss that weighs heavy on their mind, they are near completely different. they remember parts of their old personality, their old lifestyle - enough to know they want to be better. they’re convinced that it’s karma, what happened to them. for being who they were - acting the way they did. just ... a bunch of self-blame.

even with the massive ego, cain’s always been a quiet person. but now - now cain’s even quieter. kinder, if not a little sarcastic, like a relic from the past. they’re distant - but it’s one of fear, restrictive and tense - not one made out of their own comfort. 

smokes medical marijuana but rarely drinks ... as if that’d make a difference. in an effort to beat their heroin addiction, they’ve turned to prescriptions instead.

like i mentioned ... cain has four cats. it’s basically their entire personality. two of them were from before their disappearance, but two are new to their little (school-approved) family. there is: frank (big chungus when yelled. white and gray), brock (orange. fluffy. stoic. devours food), shoelace (black furred, missing an eye and half an ear), and crunchwrap supreme (crunch for short. calico with bent ears). yes, they have photos of their cats in their wallet.

cain’s memory is fucked - like, really fucked. they forget a lot of things. short term, long term. it’s a constant struggle. they managed to keep their notes from the cult, so those help - but not always. they forget dates and names and faces and events. sometimes they wake up and don’t know where they are. they don’t sleep often, anyways. with the trauma came night terrors, and in an attempt to avoid them they don’t ... sleep often. only a few hours a night if they can withstand it, because it’s frankly terrible.

they suffer from severe touch aversion. skin contact with anybody, of any sort, is enough to send cain into a full-blown panic attack. they were leather gloves more often than not in an attempt to combat this disadvantage, without hindering their dexterity too much. even with clothes, they’re not the biggest fan of physical contact. it won’t send him into a panic attack, but they visibly flinch away. they’re very clear from the get-go, if someone is too close to them, that they don’t like physical contact.

dealing with ptsd and attends therapy every week. their therapist recommended that they keep writing their notes, after reviewing them himself, so cain does. they keep an entire journal where they write, and sketch a little, because it helps them cope and de-stress. it means a lot to them, actually.

also dealing with ptsd and attends therapy every week - therapist recommended he kept writing after looking at his notes - so he does, keeps an entire journal where they write and like … sketch a little, because it helps them cope. means more to them than it would seem. but, unfortunately, part of their coping involves getting far too involved in their own mini-investigation of the cult they’d been part of. when the cult was tracked back to where cain’d been brought, they were already gone - and cain wants to know where. wants to know how to find them. wants justice, vengeance. wants nobody else to get hurt from them.

pretty blunt ... won’t go out of their way to announce that hey, they were part of a cult, and that’s why they’re gone and that’s why that’s the way they are now - but they also won’t lie about it, if the topic comes up in conversation. they don’t like delusions, don’t like secrets, nor do they like unnecessary attention.

being at radcliffe makes cain anxious because - well, they’re surrounded by people they’ve been doing wrong by for years now and they can’t even remember which ones. who, what, when, why - distant memories, if they’re even there at all. is constantly trying to figure out how to redeem themselves. they’d leave, if it hadn’t been their parents’ assistance that they stay there. so that someone always has an eye on them. 

but like ...they screwed over a lot of people when they left. from plugs / customers to their ex-girlfriend, who they are, undeniably, still in love with (you can’t forget that feeling) - to their friends. like. everybody, pretty much KBJNSDFKSNLD

is often pretty high ... i’d say it’s just the medical weed but. alas :/ take a guess :/

hates cars & swimming & crowds. hates feeling trapped and will avoid it whenever possible. doesn’t want to be seen as unsociable, but it’s difficult. 

they ... have a tendency to run away when they’re overwhelmed. likes to climb trees because they’re tall enough to. there’s a tree outside of their window that they climb out to frequently, even though it’s like a ~safety hazard~ or whatever. just really likes to hide out. 

used to be in perkins when they last attended radcliffe, but they gave their spot to someone else and that was like - 100% fine w/ cain tbh. lives alone in moris now.

feels the need to redeem themself ... to like, everybody. like, they want to avoid conflict and be a better person, but it’s hard, and they don’t necessarily like confrontation either - and not everybody believes that cain’s changed. it wouldn’t be surprising if people were suspicious of cain, for whatever reason, because they don’t ... really have the best track record anymore.

developed a stutter as one of the results from their trauma. their voice is damaged from screaming and they’re self-conscious about it, but they’re working on it because there’s more important things to worry about. in general, cain looks ... gaunt, too thin, and generally sickly.

repeating senior year ... fr obvious reasons ... and probably won’t graduate anytime soon because they’ve changed their major so late.

can still hold a conversation & they’re not really afraid of socialization. it just takes a toll on them. they’re pretty lowkey, as a person. soft, sorta. quiet but they won’t be an asshole (on purpose). they like people! just. very low energy.

so like ... tldr ... not an asshole anymore ... dealing with a lot of trauma ... trying to be a good person ... yes ...

wanted connections.

locals... people they’ve grown up with their entire life. people they’ve wronged, people who idolized him, envied him, despised him, etc. 

enemies... would love for a bunch of these just. a hoard of people who fucking hate cain. because it fits the bill. they could’ve bullied them, or wronged them, whatever. anything works. let’s make it happen.

exes... that they’ve dumped... old hookups, ex-friends, people they got into an argument with or fought before they disappeared last year...

ex girlfriend... that connection wld b rly neat!! i have it up as a wc rn but we can take that down ... will be holding intense american idol - esque auditions. remember that cain ws a fckn classist pig and probably only dated people who were also rich with influential families. (unless u present a very good case to me ... then maybe ... perhaps ...)

family friends... family rivals... people he knows mostly thru their family.

redeemable... people they’re trying to redeem themself to... trying to prove their worth, and that they’re a better person now, etc. etc.

old clients... :) angry clients. that they left in the dust.

perkins... people he knew from perkins ... old pals or maybe enemies idk he was pretty insufferable ... people he used to go to fancy parties with sometimes ...

angery... people so so so so fucking pissed at cain, for whatever reason.

reconciliation... reconnecting... used to be friends and we can be friends again :) and i will be better this time! i’m a slut for slowburns, especially slowburn friendships ... enemies to friends ... now THAT is sexy.

victims... of bullying ... :/ of their bullying specifically.

sof...t... wholesome content ... nothing but soft, understanding friendships ... or developing friendships ... make them feel welcomed again... forgive them...

an..g.st... friends to enemies. enemies to bigger enemies. miscommunication. betrayal. whatever u want.

no hookups!!! ... please only previous encounters. nothing in the present. because it just wldn’t make sense.

unless... eyes emoji. H DSJLFJKS just kidding! i’d accept MAYBE some kind of sexual tension but like ... the sort that hurts, because it just Cannot Happen (i will not let it happen). or maybe a fun, casual sexting thing but like. nothing physical. pleasthe.

fuck politics!... mayhaps, they hate mr. romanov and his politics or smth. he’s probably corrupt in some way, so! go at it!

aggression... i feel like a lot of the conversations between cain n other ppl start out rly ... angry bc theyre Mad. at them.

ok it’s bed time please plot with me. 

[queenmaracasandlove]

You’re My Best (Sex) Friend - Roger Taylor x F!Reader - Part III (Smut)

Word Count: +3700 (sorry...)

Summary: Roger and Y/N are friends with benefits. This is perfectly fine until love comes around. Can be read as Roger x F!Reader or Ben!Roger x F!Reader

Warnings: Unprotected sex (you know the deal...), alcohol, swearing

A/N: I used to love this chapter and now I’m not too sure ahah... Please tell me what you think about it. Thank you all for the support! 

Part I Part II Part IV Part V

MASTERLIST

Permanent Taglist: @reedusteinrambles

It was such a special night, such a special moment. Queen was finally out there, becoming a legend in the British musical landscape. Their newest album A Night at the Opera was already platinum only a few weeks after its release and that was the last night of the European leg of their tour. It was even more special because it was recorded by the BBC and was taking place on Christmas Eve. Nothing in the world could have prevented Y/N from attending this concert.

She had not been able to come to the concerts that Queen had been playing in England’s capital earlier that month because of work but she was here tonight. She was still living in Roger’s flat but when he had came back to London for those few dates she had prefered to stay at the hotel where she was still working. She did not want to just cross paths with him for ten minutes every morning and she still has things to figure out. Y/N was still working in the hotel even though she had finally been casted in a little production but she wanted to earn as much money as she could before the end of the tour. She was extremely grateful but she did not want to ask for more than necessary and wanted to move out before the end of March.

The gig was absolutely amazing. Y/N was overjoyed and full of pride. She could not believe they were killing it so much. They were all owning that stage and the connection with the audience was breathtaking. She felt very special being able to call all those musicians her friends. She was so happy to see them from backstage, smiling every time one of them would look in her direction. She was not alone, she was surrounded by managements, few family members and friends. But now she was between Veronica and Mary and that felt weird. Because she was not one of their girlfriends even less so a wife.

These few weeks in Roger’s flat, away from him had been enough for her to reflect on the situation and to come to terms with fact that she was madly in love with Roger Taylor. She had suspected it for quite a while but never wanted to admit it. Still, as she was surrounded by his stuff, sleeping in his clothes and missing him that much there was no way to deny it. That scared her quite a bit. Because he was first and foremost one her best friend, not many people had supported her the way he did and he knew so much about her and she was terrified by her feelings.

He was so handsome behind his drums, making it look so easy with his falsettos and his blond hair, being the only one not wearing white. The concert was close to an end and Y/N’s heart was racing like mad. She had not talked to him for so long. There had been phone calls but her voice had not betrayed her, yet. Roger calling while he was on tour was unusual, at least that often. They had this little habit to keep each other updated on their lives when they could not talk face to face but it was now once a week. She had also received flowers on the first night of her show and even though the card was signed “Queen” she knew he had been the one planning it. Although she did not want to admit it she wished all those signs meant the feelings were mutual.

She had arrived right on time and had only got the time to say hello while Roger was offstage during Brian’s solo. Thankfully he had to say hi to everybody quickly and hadn’t pay too much attention to her. She had no idea how this night was going to end but she hoped more than anything that her feelings would not interfere with their friendship and behaviour.

Y/N could hear the crowd screaming their names (and Roger’s was shouted more than once) as they bowed one last time. She could not stop herself from clapping her hands or smiling, she was so proud. Roger was completely full of adrenaline because of the show. He went straight towards Y/N and took her in his arms.

“Rog’ it’s disgusting you’re so sweaty” she said, internally enjoying this as much as she could

“That was amazing right?”

“Much more than that” she smiled

And just like that he kissed her. His naked torso against her chest. It was so brief and yet both of their body had been electrified. Roger hadn’t been able to fight against this urge in him. Before they were able to say anything, Freddie’s arm was around Roger’s shoulder as he dragged him somewhere else backstage. They were about to throw a big party, it was Christmas Eve after all and they had to celebrate this incredible night.

Roger glanced at Y/N one last time before he was too far. He was so scared to have ruin everything, he was always so impulsive. He was completely obsessed by Y/N and he had been for so long now. He needed to call her every time he could, hearing her voice and making sure she was doing fine. Roger had had to face the truth too, literally because every time he had slept with a girl during the tour he would always end up picturing Y/N’s face in front of him. So he had stop, because it wasn’t fair for them and because the only thing that could make him get off was imagining Y/N naked in his bedsheets back in London.  He wanted more than her body though, because that he already had in a way, no he wanted her, entirely. Because he loved her.

There were so many people, so much alcohol and other things but all felt so alive. Everybody wanted to congratulate the band for their success and the amazing show they had pulled of so it had been impossible for Y/N and Roger to talk. They looked at each other from time to time, making sure that the other was still there, in the corner of the room.

‘So, how are you?” Mary asked Y/N, stopping her from daydreaming

Mary and Y/N knew each other quite well even though they were not extremely close. They usually spent a lot of time together one the days they both attended the band’s rehearsal or parties. They liked each other’s company because they both had the same admiration and respect for the boys. Mary had been kind enough to give Y/N’s discount on new clothes for her to go to her auditions and they had gone for a cup of tea a few weeks ago.

“I’m great thanks. The play was great and I’ve taken on a new project starting in January”

“That’s amazing ! I’m so happy things are finally going great for you. You deserve it so much”

“Thank you Mary, I really appreciate it. And you? How is it going?”

She wanted to ask her about her relationship with Freddie but she didn’t. She had always felt that deep connection between them but still, she knew that something was not right, especially lately. Nevertheless she was determined to be supportive of her friends’ choices no matter what.

“Oh, it’s alright you know. I’m still working and Freddie’s on tour so I’m pretty much alone all the time. Well I have the cats but...”

Y/N could see real sadness in Mary’s eyes. She had been engaged to Freddie for a few years now and it was already they’re third tour as Queen.

“That must be hard for you” Y/N said

“Oh you know… I guess you don’t really have the choice when you’re in love with a rockstar. And if you’re in love that doesn’t really matter” she replied

Y/N looked at Roger, in the corner of the room, joking with a guy she did not know, his ridiculous wig still on his head. Would she ever be able to do the same? In the event of anything serious happening between her and Roger, would she be able to spend months without him? Was her love for him strong enough for that kind of thing? She suddenly realised how stupid it was to think about things like this and yet there had been that kiss between them.

Mary was not stupid. She could see what was going on right under her nose. She would have never believed that Roger and Y/N could be an item when they had first met a few years ago but now it was obvious. The way they had become close could be seen as unconventional but it did not lessen the genuine relationship that had flourished from it. But Mary was also aware of how hard it was to be the partner of a member of the band…

“It makes it easier to know how happy he is when he’s doing what he loved you know. I think it’s just the beginning and that’s all he’s ever wished for” she carried on “when he calls and he tells me how much fun they’re having. When I see the crowds shouting his name. That’s amazing”

“I… Yes I guess so” was all Y/N was able to reply “Let’s have another drink shall we?”

She was already quite tipsy but her brain was about to explode and she needed to find relief somewhere. All that Mary had just said was true. The blond had no intention to create such questioning in Y/N, on the contrary. But all she could think about was the hypothetical life she could have with Roger, how it was just the beginning of a long life of success and months on the road. What did she have to offer that would make him want to go home to her. She remembered what he had said about being ‘happy at home”, not the kind of life he wanted or at least that was how she interpreted his words.

She was in a middle of possessing her thoughts, finishing her glass and pouring herself another one when she noticed someone in front of her.

“I’m sorry I could not come and talk to you earlier” he said with his raspy voice, “I’m so happy you’re here. At least you’re enjoying the little party” Roger said looking at the drink in her hand

His top was still opened and sober was not the best way to describe him right now. He was looking at Y/N as if she was the most delicious piece of cake in the whole world. Y/N was immediately turned on by his gaze and shivered as he put an arm around her waist.

“I’ve missed you Roger” she said

“I’ve fucking missed you too” he whispered in her ear

He had drunk because he wanted to celebrate but also because he was afraid. Scared of how he would behave with Y/N, one of the reasons he had avoided her for so long, but now that the alcohol was rushing through his veins he could not be away from her any longer. His mouth was still next to Y/N’s head and he gently kissed her neck. He wasn’t doing anything wrong after all. They were friends with benefits and it would not be the first time that he would behave this way with her, at least on the surface.

“I want you babe”

“Then just fuck me Rog”

She was now looking at him right in the eyes, as turned on as he was. Without saying any more he grabbed her hand and led her through the hallway to an empty room. As soon as the door was closed their lips smashed against each other. It was more than sexual desire, it was passion. Their tongue were playful and so were their hands. It didn’t take long for Y/N to unbutton Roger’s pants and put her hand inside it, teasing his shaft over the fabric of his underwear.

“Fuck Y/N. You’re really in a hurry aren’t you?”

“I just want you so bad”

They had both agreed with themselves that tonight was not the night to confess but at least they could express their feelings in a way that would not betray them. Roger had now pressed Y/N against the wall. She let go of his pants so she could take off her dress, she wanted to feel his skin against hers. She needed the touch and she wasn’t disappointed. Roger was now kissing every little inch of her body as if he worshiped it. She wasn’t used to that kind of softness with him and that made her go crazier.

He went down on his knees, this time he was facing her clothed core and he immediately saw that she was dripping. A smirk appeared on his face he slowly made the little piece of clothing go down on her legs. Y/N was now completely naked in front of him as he kissed her pussy.

“Open your legs for me love”

She obeyed, moaning in anticipation, letting out a little cry when she felt his tongue lick her slit. At first he just played a little, building up the tension but not providing much pleasure until he frankly pressed his tongue against her clit. Roger made sure he found exactly the right spot before playing with it. The pleasure was to much for Y/N and she felt her knees were about to fail her.

“Rog’, I can’t…”

The drummer looked around him. The room was full of flight cases so he grabbed Y/N’s legs, holding her tight and put her onto the closest one trying not to be brutal in the rush.

“Fuck, you look so hot”

She was there, right in front of him, her legs spread and her look begging for more and it made him feel invincible. He wanted to finish his work and so he did, inserting two fingers inside Y/N before kissing her. He looked at her while moving his fingers, reading on her face the moment he would find the perfect spot and knew he had when she gasped. He started playing with it as she arched her back. Her legs were starting to shake.

“Roger, that’s so fucking good” she cried

“Say my name again love”

Right now he felt so powerful hearing his name coming out of her mouth. It was him who made her feel this way and even if he wanted more it was good enough for now.

“Roger, please” she begged

“Come on, one more time” he asked as her legs began to shake

“ROGER” she screamed as she reached her high

She was out of breath and he felt her juices pouring around his fingers. She looked so beautiful and he wanted to tell her how he felt but he could not. He was afraid to ruin everything. In the madness that was his life right now she was the constant. He needed her and he could not afford to risk everything. And it wasn’t the moment to think about that, he had business to finish. He had dreamt about being inside her for weeks and he could not wait any longer.

“Are you ready for round two?” he asked

She nodded, biting her lips in anticipation while opening her legs for him. He placed himself in front of her going in just with the tip, teasing her. She would not last long so he wanted to take his time. He went inside her and slowly started thrusting. He leaned in to kiss her as she bit his lower lips. She was already close, tightening around his cock. He started rubbing her clit. They were so close, what they were sharing at this moment had nothing to do with all their previous encounters. They were expressing all that was kept inside and it became more intense every second. Y/N’s nails were deep into Roger’s skin as he thrust deeper into her, growling.

“Cum for babe” he said

She indeed came for the second time of the night, letting out a scream. He kept thrusting into her until she was completely done. She had not felt so good for what felt like forever. He knew she would not let him down as she straighten herself up. She wanted his lips, his perfect lips. She knew she would not be able to feel them once this would be over because it would mean something else and it would not have been right. She kissed him passionately, her fingers in his blond hair before going down on his torso and then onto his erected member. She started pumping, their tongue still playing with each other. She could hear some growls escaping from his mouth.

She eventually broke the kiss and went down on her knees. She started to lick the tip of his shaft still pumping with her right hand.

“Fuck Y/N, let me cum in your mouth please”

She complied, she started to suck his length, going faster and faster and taking it deeper and deeper. The hips of the drummer helping her to find the right pace, suddenly stopping as she felt his fluids pouring into her mouth. She swallowed before getting back on her feet. They kissed one last that time, their naked bodies boiling and attracted to one another. And eventually they parted. They had so many things to say but so many reasons why not to say them at this very moment so they did not.

That was it. They silently picked up their clothes, not sure about what to do next. Usually they would go on with whatever they had to do, have a little chat maybe but the tension was palpable even after what happened. Y/N was waiting for Roger to put his pants back on and she noticed what was around his neck.

“Lovely necklace” she said

“Yeah, I bought it on the advice of a person with great taste” knowing that it was her during their afternoon in Camden

“We should probably join the others before they leave the place and we’re stuck here”

Although she secretly wished it would be the case. She would love to spend hours with him, just so they could talk although she knew deep inside that he would become mad and unbearable in less than an hour. He agreed, nodding. He would have like to hold hands but he was sure she would not want to, she had said yes for sex, not for a relationship, at least for now.

They went back to where the party which was in full swing, nobody noticing they were back because nobody had paid attention to the fact that they were gone. They got some drinks and looked at each other before they started talking, as if there was nothing more natural in the world. Everything they had wanted to tell each other, the little anecdotes about life on tour, she told him all about her new job, the little part she had played and she how was to join this new production where she would have a singing role. The phone calls were more regular but they were always very short and they did not have the time to talk about all those things. Roger pointed at some people around the room, most of them wrecked as he explained what their job was on tour. They were so happy for each other, so happy to spend this moment together and sharing.

The night went on with everybody dancing and partying. Freddie was all over the place while Veronica and John left before anyone else. Brian was completely wrecked in a corner and Y/N was laughing out loud because of Roger’s silliness. She started to dance with Freddie, Roger’s wig on her head and feeling happier than ever. At some point she fell next to Roger on one couch, completely exhausted and he took her hand into his. They were so drunk they did not notice and stayed this way for a bit, looking at the mess around them.

But time came for the night to end, he would go back to his family for Christmas day and stay there until he had to leave for North America. They were on their way to go, Roger’s arm around Y/N’s waist as they were waving to say goodbye to everybody.

“Here you are my man. That was amazing!” said one of the roadie

“Thank you” Roger answered

“I bet you’re excited about going back to the U.S right? I hope you kept the numbers of your lovely ladies that kept you busy last time. Not that you can’t find new ones eh” he winked before leaving the room

Y/N was looking at the floor, taking in what she had just heard. There was nothing wrong with it really, nothing she didn’t know and nothing Roger wasn’t entitled to do. But it hurt. Because for a moment she had thought that tonight had been special but it was not. They were just having fun and that was it, she was lucky enough to call him a friend, she could not ask for more.

Roger wanted to say something, to tell Y/N that it was not true and that he did not want to sleep with anyone but her. That he wanted her to wait for him and that as soon as he’d be back he would made her the happiest girl in the world if she agreed to be his girlfriend. But he realised how unfair that was. He could not ask her that, leaving her with just a kiss and a promise, only coming back months later. She was finally fulfilling her dream and he could not be not be an obstacle to that in any way. He would wait, until the end of the tour, and then he would properly asked her on date. He did not want to get ahead of himself and make to many projects. It needed to stay focused on the tour, this could be dealt with later.

“Happy Christmas Roger” she simply said as they were waiting for a taxi

“Happy Christmas Y/N” he replied, hugging her

They went back to the flat together, and slept in each other’s arms without saying anything, without questioning if it was good or wrong, too drunk and too tired, enjoying the warmth of their bodies intertwined.

[thenarcolepticone]

The Problem We All Live With

By TheNarcolepticOne

Day 3: Festival ( @aphfallfandomweek )

(AO3)

Summary: It’s almost the end of the Summer semester into the Fall, and every time Ivan minds his own business, there’s always someone to ruin his quiet hours and relaxation time. Always. Hogwarts!AU. RusAme. 

Pairings: RusAme

Warnings: None

A/N: So since I’ve gotten my life back together after about a whole year of financial planning, I’ve finally just decided to post this fic that is LONG OVERDUE by literally 365 days. I know it’s been a while since I’ve even written anything really for anyone but I only just hope that you’ll forgive me, @trueshun , for being so late to the exchange for the @rusame-secret-santa-2017. I had a lot of money problems during the first half of this year, and I only hope that posting this can be my apology to you for such an incredibly long wait. I want this to be a kick off a start to the fall by being able to finally get everything I’ve owed to others done, starting with you. 

##

Hogwarts around the semester break usually indicated a significantly reduced amount of students and faculty; a perfect time, in Ivan’s opinion. The count had only become noticeable only a week before the end of the semester and Ivan had honestly preferred the rest of the silence that followed that trend instead of having to deal with idle chatter.

He was not a talkative guy, and he was thankful for the fact that his somewhat foreboding appearance made him a less than likely target for most conversation starters. It stemmed from the fact that in between being the awkward Russian exchange student and English as his second language, he’s also a bit on the shy side. Socially, might he add. But academically? Ivan figured he could make Arthur Kirkland shut his annoyingly ‘smart aleck’ sounding voice and make him sit his ass down with a 10 minute lecture on runes. Ivan was very forward when it came to defending his knowledge on what he studies, given the chance and motivation. (Ivan liked to think toleration of the stupid population as ‘conserving mental energy’)

“What the heck are you doing?”

The stray voice caught Ivan entirely off guard, and he overshot the stitch he had planned, with the needle going straight into his thumb in a single motion.

Ivan cursed loudly, immediately pulling the sharp object out of his thumb and putting the wound right into his mouth to try and prevent it from dripping onto his clothes. It was a stupid mistake, of course, and not that being pricked by a needle was the worst thing to happen in the middle of knitting.

But what sets the icing on the cake for today is the gaze Ivan meets: the illustrious Alfred F. Jones of Slytherin peering down at him from halfway down the stairs and not at all really caring too much about the suddenness of his entrance.

Ivan seethed privately when he heard the sound of footsteps approaching him. Ivan doesn’t look up again when he looks down, hoping perhaps he could instead just scare Alfred off with pure, obvious irritation. He takes the thumb out of his mouth, wiping it absently on his robes before going back to continuing the rest of what he started. It’s only about the length of an arm and a half, but Ivan had planned to finish the rest of the yarn by the end of the year. It’s supposed to be winter, but there’s still leaves present all over the ground. A new scarf was in order.

“I’m talkin’ to you, buddy.”

Well, that plan quickly didn’t work. Alfred sat next to him without much mind to anything else around him other than what Ivan was holding. He seemed to just keep his gaze on Ivan, with that aura of his that reeked of extreme obnoxiousness.

How Alfred managed to appear alone the way he is, without his posse, is a sight that is rare to catch and unnatural to witness. Ivan sighed.

“What do you want, Jones? I would rather not have to deal with any tricks you plan to pull.”

Alfred immediately put his hands up, as if he was trying to show that he had nothing up his sleeves.

“Hey man, listen. I’m not here to play any tricks, okay? M’just dyin’ to start a conversation with literally anyone here.” Alfred crossed his arms. “Place is empty. And the only person other than that loopy cat dude is you.”

Ivan raises an eyebrow. Hercules was not a bad person to talk to, in Ivan’s opinion anyway. Ivan was a lot worse with conversations.

“I will take that as a compliment? But even still, I would not rather be the speaking partner of someone who sees me as a convenience.”

“Ouch,” Alfred winced. “Given, that’s kinda half true. But can’t it kill for you to open up once and awhile?”

The two were different. At least, in Ivan’s eyes. For instance, it was entirely normal to catch Ivan alone in the corridors or working by himself in the library or sitting in the Grand Hall eating his meals. But Alfred is his opposite in every aspect; Alfred was welcoming and approachable with a grand smile on his face that was infectious. Meanwhile, Ivan was timid and reserved. Alfred was the Slytherin house Seeker while Ivan was well known for his exceptional grades in all of his classes (particularly in herbology).

If the two of them were ever caught together in any context, it would bring to mind the infamous first year rumor, where in which, it was discussed that Ivan being placed in Hufflepuff and Alfred being placed in Slytherin was the result of a botched prediction from the Sorting Hat.

Ivan came off as brooding often times, which was a Slytherin trait, but it didn’t quite mean that he was always with the intention of wanting to intimidate everyone (though, Ivan admitted, this did come in handy on multiple occasions). And Alfred being the charismatic people’s spokesman wasn’t characteristic of someone who would fit under the stereotypical ‘Slytherin’ student. But the two were similar in that way, Ivan supposed. Outcasts of their own houses.

Alfred’s voice nudged him out of his thoughts.

“So. I asked what you were doing. Looks like you’re making something.”

Ivan gave a big sigh. He finally relented to this conversation.

“A scarf. My old one is falling apart.”

“Huh,” Alfred looked at the yarn. “You’re knitting it?”

“Yes. You are also sitting on the string.”

“Oh sorry.”

Alfred stood up briefly to correct himself, just as Ivan took the opportunity to just continue working on his scarf. He’s started the yellow again after finishing the black. And Alfred just seems to be engrossed into the movements of the needles, quietly watching as he adjusted his glasses. Another rare moment that Ivan counts.

“This is kinda long wait for just making one scarf,” says Alfred after a while, still watching. Ivan didn’t not stop. And Alfred didn’t shut up either.

“Magic is faster. I don’t really see why you’d want to continue working on it with the way you’re doing it. I can get why a muggle would need to be able to knit like this, but you’re a wizard.”

Ivan stopped and met Alfred’s wide, sky blue gaze. It’s not a phrase meant to insult, it seemed. But Ivan turned to see his expression now; it was a phrase meant to stem out of Alfred’s own genuine curiosity. Tactless. But honest.

Ivan exhaled slowly. “I am a half-blood. And just because I am half does not mean that I necessarily do this because my mother is a muggle.”

“... then why do you do it then?” Alfred pressed. He scooted closer. “If that’s not the reason?”

Ivan feels like he’s being choked by the questions. They’re ignorant ones. And Ivan doesn’t know if he wants to hold in the rest of his colorful vocabulary or just continue on with this passive stigma. He felt his heart pound, and his frown deepen. Ivan opened his mouth to try and speak before immediately stopping.

Then again, Ivan realized. Another valid reason for this lack of knowledge might come from parents who could be pure-blood conformists. Not that Ivan like assumptions. But Ivan didn’t believe that Alfred could have bad intentions for asking, despite being that blunt with his comment.

“It is...well,” Ivan cleared his throat, trying to think of the best way to formulate it. “Magic is faster. But sometimes, when you complete tasks very quickly, you do not see the… true magic behind it.”

Alfred snorted. “It’s not magic though.”

“No. Not that kind of ‘magic’,” Ivan explained, glancing back at his work. “I mean, the magic of work. When you feel the calluses on your fingers. The strain of having to make sure everything is perfect from beginning to end for a week. And the feeling of… completion when you finish. I do not think your wand can make you feel the same way.”

Alfred furrowed his brows. “I still don’t get it.”

“I would not expect you to. You are not the kind of person with patience.”

“True that. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t wanna get it.”

To this, Ivan to looked at him. Alfred only shrugged

“So why are you still here during the semester break? Because if you are trying to sympathize with me, it is not working.”

“Nah,” Alfred laughed. “I don’t got time for that. I’m only here because my parents don’t normally have the free time. We don’t hang on my sem breaks, and not even in the summer. They’re always workin’ hard. The ‘don’t come home for the holidays’ kinda.”

“Oh,” Ivan frowns. “I am sorry.”

“Hey, just cause I got time for your sympathy doesn’t mean that I’m taking it.” Alfred huffed as he rolls his eyes. “Why are you here? Family afraid of you or somethin’?”

Ivan feels his heart clench at that, and he almost drops the half completed scarf as he glares at Alfred. Alfred winced when he sees Ivan’s expression.

“Too far?”

“You should leave.”

“Well, I mean I would but,”

“You should leave.”

“Iv,” Alfred insisted again. Ivan is fed up at this point, but he has no energy to continue asking Alfred. Ivan instead begins to pack his things, regretting that he should have just stayed in the Hufflepuff common room instead of the library.

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” Alfred said hastily, standing up with Ivan. “I-I didn’t mean to be like that. I’m an idiot sometimes. But I’m just really...I’m just curious.” God, Ivan wasn’t sure if Alfred’s tone was genuine or that he had mastered the art of vocal genuineness. “You’re always by yourself when you’re not around your sisters. I’m just…well.”

“Your point?” Ivan snapped.

“Don’t you get lonely?” Alfred prodded. “You know? I… I’m not sure how you could be okay with that, I mean. You’re just always by yourself. And even when people try to talk to you, you don’t want to be around them. I just don’t get it.”

Ivan raises an eyebrow. “That’s two things you do not get.”

“Shut up. You know what I mean. I just wanna be friends is all. You’re pretty cool, according to Toris. I wanted to see that myself.”

Compliments were the last thing he expected from Alfred. But Ivan just exhaled loudly through his nose instead.

“Hogsmeade has a mini festival today,” Alfred said, trying to convince him. Which wasn’t working really, but Ivan couldn’t help but now become curious himself.

“And why bring me?”

“Dunno,” Alfred said with a grin. “Maybe it’s because you’re running out of yarn.”

Ivan looked back at his stash. And in fact, Alfred was right. He hated Alfred being right.

“Fine then,” Ivan sighed. “I’ll come with you. But you owe me for making me prick my finger.”

“Okay, yeah. Maybe I spooked you enough,” He offered a hand to him, smiling again. “But I mean. I just want to spend some time at least. I wanna know more about the guy who was supposed to be a future Slytherin.”

Ivan smiled wryly at that. “And I would like to know more about the Hufflepuff reject.”

“Okay, rude.” Alfred laughed. “But whatever. I’ll meet you at 4:00pm in the Grand Hall.”

And as Alfred headed for the stairs (he noticed the boy skipping childishly like he had asked his crush out on a date), Ivan thought to himself to start buying more yarn in green.

[asoftslytherin]

sweetener. ch. iv

a/n: *shrugs*

summary: you go to sirius’ place to talk. talking happens. amongst other things.

warnings: so i said at the beginning that i would not be writing smut but every chapter i get closer and closer, hopefully i’ll have a chidi in the bad place. there isn’t any actual sex, just touching of certain anatomical parts that may be uncomfortable for some people. if you wanna read anyways i placed these: 🌫🌫🌫 before and after the dirty stuff. swearing, a sprinkle of angst.

word count: 3.1k (2.8k w/o dirty stuff)

At about 8:30 you finally got out of bed, changed into your softest pair of leggings you owned and threw on a big t-shirt that you were comfortable in, but you knew you still looked cute. You hated that you were planning out your outfit to meet some guy you’d just met and hooked up with the night before. These things shouldn’t be that important! Looking up at the ceiling of your bedroom and sighing, you gave in to the lazy gods, put on a pair of sandals and walked to your car. Once you were actually sitting in your car, you realized that you had no idea where he lived. You knew it was an apartment complex, but couldn’t remember which one, as you were basically running out the door the second your phone said that your Uber had arrived. You texted him to ask, somewhat embarrassed for some reason. When he sent the address, your recognized the name of the complex, maybe you just used to know someone who used to live there. The entire drive over you were so nervous, you had to turn the A/C all the way up to keep yourself from sweating bullets and your power jam playlist going to keep you from turning around and going right back home. The nerves might have been from exhilaration or maybe they were “oh my god this guy is crazy hot and he wants to see me again” nerves; who’s to say?

You arrived at Sirius’ place right at nine. The apartment complex was easy enough to find and you kind of went on auto-pilot at some points. How many times had you been to this place to know how to get here so easily? You shook the feeling away, and parked the car, checking the apartment number again on your phone, noticing that his apartment was on the first floor. Ugh thank god, you thought. I genuinely don’t know if I can do stairs today. Walking up to the apartment number he gave you, you knocked on the door and waited for a minute. Nothing. You knocked again, harder this time. Nothing. You rolled your eyes, berating yourself for ever suggesting this and as turned to leave, and then the door opened.

There stood in front of you, a very wet, very shirtless Sirius, wearing only a towel. Fuck. “Sorry, love” he said breathily. “I was still in the shower when I heard you knock and tried to get decent as quick as I could. Come, come in,” he offered, standing to the side with one arm keeping the door open and the other extended into his apartment, welcoming you in.

Suddenly, you knew why you recognized his apartment complex, it was the same one that your shittiest ex, Asher, lived in. Sirius’ apartment was bigger, but the entryway and kitchen had the same layout. It was like getting flashbacks to things you tried so hard to forget that you actually ended up forgetting them, and now it’s all rushing back. You must have looked shocked or even dismayed when you walked in, seeing as Sirius had a concerned look on his face before asking, “You okay? Need some water? I know it’s not that clean,” he cringed, looking at his dish-filled sink.

You shook your head at him and put on the best smile you could. “No, no, I swear I’m fine. I- uh… I just realized that you live in the same complex as my ex and it kind of threw me through a loop there for a second. Guess I was a little too busy last night to get a good look” you half-heartedly laughed. When you realized you were still staring at nothing you blinked a few times to snap yourself out of it and proceeded to turn to Sirius who was still wearing a towel. You laughed to yourself and then met his eyes instead of staring at his cotton-covered crotch. “I also should have said in my text that I actually wanted to talk to you before we did anything.” Eyeing him up and down, you pushed yourself onto the kitchen island gently, setting yourself down as slowly as your arms would allow and letting your feet dangle off of the marble edge, allowing the coolness of the stone to provide some relief to your areas that were still hurting.

“And what exactly did you want to talk about,” Sirius said easily, moving himself so he was in-between your tender legs as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

You rolled your eyes, tried your absolute hardest to keep your composure, and pushed him away. “Put on some pants, then we can talk.” As Sirius smirked and walked away, you looked at your phone to the texts you’d sent him. “Honestly, I should have seen this coming. This is partially my fault.”

“What’s your fault, love?” Sirius questioned when he walked back into the kitchen, now wearing a pair of sweatpants (Was that all he owned? Skinny jeans and sweatpants?) and using a towel, presumably the one that had previously been wrapped around his waist to dry off the remaining wet spots of his hair.

“It’s my fault for not realizing that the texts I sent made it seem like we were gonna bone the second you opened the door,” you smiled at him. “But, I do wanna set some ground rules if we’re gonna make this a thing,” you said sternly, letting your smile fall and sitting up straighter, attempting to make yourself look more serious.

“Ground rules? Other than, ‘no relationship, just sex’?” Sirius guffawed, walking over to his fridge and grabbing a beer for himself. “You want one?” he offered.

“No, I drove here and beer is disgusting,” you countered. “And yes, ground rules. I’ve tried this too many times with too many idiots, so this time I’m setting some ground rules.”

Sirius gave you a look of disbelief before shrugging and leaning on the counter. “Alright, darling. What are your rules?”

“For one, nothing in public. Cars are a maybe but that’s only if one of us is just having a really bad day and needs to bang it out ASAP and one of our cars is nearby.”

“Well, in case you’ve forgotten, I drive a motorbike,” he stated with a cheshire cat smile on his face.

“Hard pass,” you looked down at him.

“Okay, fine then,” Sirius stood up straight again. “No random texts that you ‘miss me’ or whatever. The only context I’ll allow that in is if you miss sex with me, then something can be arranged.”

“Deal,” you nodded. “Go get some paper, we need to write this down.”

“Paper?! We’re fuck buddies, we don’t need a written agreement! What, are you gonna make me sign it?” Sirius said incredulously with a laugh.

“What? No. I’m just a slut for organization and I like having things written down.” You stared at him for a second before shooing him away with your hands, “Go! Go get some paper and a pen or something!”

“This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done for sex,” Sirius muttered before wandering off to another room and returning with a blank piece of paper and a pen.

“Not gonna lie,” you raised your eyebrows at him. “Definitely thought that was gonna take longer than it did.”

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises.” Sirius took the pen and hastily wrote down the first two rules. “What’s your next stipulation?”

You squinted your eyes at him. “Oral sex has to be reciprocated! That’s a dealbreaker,” you almost shouted as you realized it and began eyeing him, pointing a finger in his direction.

“Is that not a thing people do?” Sirius inquired, a blank look on his face.

“Oh, Sirius, you sweet, summer child,” you put a hand on his shoulder, closed your eyes and shook your head. “You have no idea.”

“Okay fine,” Sirius laughed, writing down “bj=eating out” in scrawly writing. “Can we make this at least a weekly thing?” the man looked up at you and asked.

“Sure. At least once a week, I mean, it’ll probably be more than that-“

“Oh, trust me, it will be more than that,” Sirius bit his lower lip. “I think that’s enough rules for today,” he threw the pen down on the counter and walked around the kitchen island so he was in-between your legs again, but this time when his hands went around your waist, yours went around his neck. “How about we do what we both know needs to happen?”

“Even though I’m still sore from last night?” you queried.

“I’ll be gentle,” he whispered into your ear. Sending shivers down your spine.

“Prove it,” you challenged.

🌫🌫🌫

Sirius placed slow kisses up your neck, on your chin, next to your mouth, before reaching his destination. It started off slow, he would break away every now and then just to see the look of desire on your face. It wasn’t until you were directly pressed up against him and felt your tenderness on on his growing bulge that he quickened the pace. You were tugging at his hair as if it was a life raft and you were in the middle of the ocean. You needed him more than you had needed anything else in your entire life. He muffled an “Up” into one of the kisses, and you wrapped your legs around his bare waist while he carried you towards his bedroom. He slammed you up against a wall which resulted in a whimper of pain from you, “Shit, got carried away.”

In response, you began tugging on his hair even harder, wincing, “Oh, you’re gonna pay for that.” Sirius simply smiled before walking into his bedroom, bending over and softly lying your back on the bed. As Sirius was trying to get your shirt off this time being more conscious of the things that had transpired the night before and the effect that it can have on a person. While he was finagling with your bra, you took this opportunity to snake your hands into his sweatpants to run your fingertips across the head of his penis as lightly as you could.

Suddenly, he grabbed your hand, slowly pulled it out of his pants, and scowled down at you, his eyes dark with need. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Payback,” you smiled, pulling him down to you and kissing him again.

🌫🌫🌫

You breathed heavily, Sirius rolling off of you and flailing his arms out beside him, one hitting you in the boob. “Are you trying to make my whole body sore? Boobs are sensitive okay? Two minutes ago you were being super carefull not to hurt me, which I very much appreciated, and now you’re whackin’ my boob!” you laughed, leaning over and gently setting your lips on his, rolling back over to get out of bed and go to the bathroom.

“Wait, where are you off to?” Sirius asked, looking a little offended.

You paused, “Uh, the bathroom, and then I was gonna get dressed. Why?” You had a puzzled look on your face. No guy had ever questioned you getting out of bed after sex.

“I’ll allow you to go to the bathroom, but I’m implementing a rule that you have to stay in bed with me for at least five minutes before you leave,” he said sternly.

“Why?” You were very confused at this point.

“Because I like feeling your amazing body next to me and I’m a selfish person, as we’ve already established. So, go, and get back quick so I can touch you some more,” he waved you away with his hands as you ran to the bathroom.

Once you were under the covers with him once again, your head resting on his chest, a finger tracing a tattoo on his collarbone, you asked, “So is this like a cuddling thing?”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “What’s wrong with a guy wanting to keep touching the person he’s sleeping with, even if they’re not having sex? Your skin is so soft and so is your ass and my hand likes to be on your ass. You should be questioning my hand, not me,” he raised one of his hands in surrender, the other stayed put where it was.

“I’ll allow it, only because I really like what that hand was doing earlier,” you giggled.

He put his other arm around your waist and pulled you closer, kissing you softly. “Now it’s my turn to have to use the bathroom,” he mischievously grinned before running off to the bathroom.

As you were lying alone on the bed, feeling the remnant of the heat where he had been, you yelled, “Okay, I get it now, get back here, I’m cold!”

⭐️🌙⭐️

The next few weeks went on like that, usually you would go over to his place, he would occasionally come to your place if Marlene was out of the house. It worked really well. You were finally getting the satisfaction you needed with none of the annoying asshole to deal with. Plus, you were able to hang out with your friends together and not be weird about it, it was pretty much the perfect situation. The two of you did end up adding a few more rules, all of them sexual in nature, and it just made things even better.

Y/N 📲 Sirius

Y/N: i’m coming over Y/N: everybody at work decided it was asshole day and i need to get this aggression out

Sirius: i’m okay with this

Sirius 📲 Y/N

Sirius: get over here Sirius: asap

Y/N: is something wrong

Sirius: it’s my turn for people to be assholes Sirius: get that ass over here

Y/N 📲 Sirius

Y/N: marlene’s gone for the weekend Y/N: you know what that means?

Sirius: i’m getting dressed as fast as i can

Sirius 📲 Y/N

Sirius: get over here

Y/N: it’s 9am on a saturday and my bed’s really comfy, gimme a good reason

Sirius: we can spend the rest of the day sleeping at my place

Y/N: deal

One evening a couple months after you started this agreement, you and your newfound group of friends, essentially being included in hanging out with Lily, Marlene, and the three boys, decided to have a game night at Sirius’ apartment, he had the biggest dining table.

“I understand that you think I was using a throw away card, but you still should have given me the point,” Lily glared over to James.

“Why? ‘Bees?’ is the worst card in the deck!” James retorted.

“Excuse me, ‘Bees?’ is the best card in the deck!” Lily almost shouted back.

You thought you heard a faint “I have neighbors” coming from Sirius’ direction but between Lily and James’ continued shouting, nobody would have paid attention to it and you knew Sirius didn’t give a shit.

“Lily, I love you. But that card is garbage,” James said as calmly as he could.

Lily slammed her cards down on the table and stood up, almost knocking the chair over. “You know what?!” she yelled.

James did the exact same, except he actually managed to knock his chair over in the process. “You know what?!” he yelled back.

“You know what?” Remus said in a Mr. Rogers-esque voice with a forced smile plastered on his face. “I think it’s time we go home.”

Game nights usually ended like this, especially if it ended up with James going against what Lily wanted to do, with any game. The lot of you picked up the cards, put them back in the box and handed it back to Remus. It wasn’t originally his game, but he kept it at his house for security purposes. Everyone filed out of the apartment, saying their good-byes, Remus giving you a look as he closed the door, leaving you and Sirius alone.

“Whatever shall we do?” Sirius asked in a soft tone, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling you down with him onto the chair he was sitting in, you on his lap.

“Sirius,” you whined. “I really, really want to but I have to get up early for a project at work. Like four a.m. early, so I actually need to sleep tonight.” You frowned, planting a quick kiss on his lips. “Once this project is over I will have free time once again!” You leaned your head back, imagining what it would be like to see your friends more than once a month, and Sirius more than just once a week. These were trying times.

“Y/N,” Sirius whispered into your ear. “The second that project is officially over, you come over here as fast as you can and I’m not letting you leave for at least three days.”

You whined again. “Can I have a time machine so I can get to that point without dealing with my colleagues?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Sirius smiled, placing kiss on your temple.

“Okay,” you said, looking at the time on your phone and standing up from the man’s lap, “I actually have to leave now.” Sirius grabbed your arm trying to pull you back down with him. “You’re a terrible influence, I hope you know that.”

“I’ve known that for a while, love,” he stood up, kissing you as you walked backwards towards the door.

You felt around for the doorknob, and managed to open it right as Sirius began to pull you further into his place. “I gotta go,” you smiled, enjoying his eyes for a moment before you had to leave him again. Halfway out the door, he turned you back around for one last kiss, but before your lips touched, you heard a voice behind you.

“Well, look who it is.”

Turning around you saw Asher standing in the hallway, arms crossed, giving you a shit-eating grin.

“Do you need something?” you asked, placing a hand on your hip and looking away from blond asshole that stood before you. Today had been a good day and now Asher was here to fuck it up like he did just about everything.

Asher held up his hands, feigning innocence. “Just seeing what all the yelling was about,” he smirked beginning to walk away. “See you around, Y/N.” Before he fully turned around, he eyed you up and down, making you feel disgusting. You were gonna take two showers when you got home.

As you spun on your heel to leave, Sirius grabbed your hand. “You okay, love?” he said quietly, a look of concern on his face.

“I’m fine,” you sighed. “You just had the pleasure of meeting the shitty ex.” You rubbed your temple with your free hand and tried to calm yourself down.

Sirius pulled the hand he was holding towards him and put his arms around you. “It’s gonna be okay, he’s just a prick. It’ll be fine,” he whispered into your hair.

After standing there for a brief moment, you pulled away, sadly kissed Sirius and walked home, feeling a little calmer, but unsure.

a/n: believe it or not i edited the ending about ten different times thinking i would make it shorter, but here we are. also they definitely were’t playing cah what are you talking about. feedback is nice if u feel like it. good or bad, i don’t give a shit. night night.

💖-ella

[simkjrs]

msa ch5 asks (and others)

Anonymous said: AAA FROM 'MEET ME IN THE WOODS'- i know that lyrics!!!!! nice!!

*finger guns* nice!!

Anonymous said: -also thank you for existing you beautiful beautiful person! 😘

i think i might have accidentally deleted (or answered separately?) the first half of this ask but nonetheless thank you

Anonymous said: OK first thing: the chapter was awesome! amazing job! Second thing: the entire chapter was basically deku 'mildly' freaking out while being thoroughly pissed the entire time

it really and truly was. izuku as that one macro that’s like “this string is held up through pure stress alone” 

Anonymous said: mr compress weeb confirmed

look at his custom made villain costume and tell me he isnt that kind of guy

Anonymous said: god. Msa!izuku is /fifteen fucking years old/ and he has to deal with /so much shit/. Can someone just put him to bed and let him nap for a year, maybe

yes! maybe not a year though.

Anonymous said: God bless the new chapter gutted me and the flipped me inside out showing my true form, that of a big fan. Thank you for the blessing that is MSA

this is such a gruesomely funny image. thank you

Anonymous said: hey just read msa for the around the 9th time. you ar e so good at writing, the way you write character interaction is incredible. you should be proud. this is literally the best thing ive ever read.

THATS SO MANY TIMES, IM ASTONISHED YOURE NOT SICK OF IT YET!!! i hate staring at my writing too long it starts feeling all faded out and boring!! im really happy to hear you like it so much!

Anonymous said: As soon as Izu/ku woke up on the table I started screeching simk. Not okay!!!

haha im so sorry!!!! but overhaul literally wouldve experimented on ai/zawa and he DID experiment on eri this is completely in character of him

Anonymous said: Overhaul/Skin Beast: hi yeah can I get a fucking uuuuuhhhhhhhh experiments/faces? Izuku: Experiment machine 🅱roke *flies away with eri*

completely accurate summary of the chapter

Anonymous said: every day I long to become the amount of salty msa izuku is

valid but every day i long for msa izuku to receive the love and support that he needs

Anonymous said: sweetie noooooooo

i have no idea what part of the chapter this is referring to but first of all, big mood, and second of all, valid 

Anonymous said: hello you hurting because so am i!

i am hurting. while i was writing the chapter i kept looking at the screen like “i’m doing this? i’m really going to do this?” but overhaul is like that and i cant deny him the one salient characterization point he has

Anonymous said: UNICORN DAUGHTER HAS BEEN RESCUED THANK ITS GREAT

[my longest yeehaw ever]

Anonymous said: Since I might not get any sleep tonight because of flight plans and I might forget tomorrow and the next day, Happy thanksgiving! I'm thankful for your awesome stories~

Anonymous said: Happy Thanksgiving! I remembered!

happy thanksgiving!! im thankful that you enjoy my stories <3

Anonymous said: good job! i love it. and i’m crying. where did all this blood come from?

We Are All crying blood at this chapter

Anonymous said: Just read the new chapter and all I want to do is keysmash into your inbox. The chapter! Was so good! Izuku being sassy and angry and traumatized but still trying! And Eri! I'm so glad she's with Izuku now. Deku-niisan! I don't have words! And Rappa? Rappa! Also, that poem you linked is really neat. Grow up grow strong and focus your fury. Kind of feel like this is the theme for these two trauma children. Great work!

someone in the comments described izuku as “thoughtlessly kind” and i was VERY emotional over that because it’s such an excellent descriptor of the kind of person izuku is... he’s still trying, because that’s just who he is 

deku-niisan to the rescue :^) 

i’m really glad you enjoyed the chapter! thank you!

@zintiay submitted: Normally I get really annoyed when a character refuses to use an ability that would let them fairly easily deal with those around them. In this case though, you have done a really good job displaying why he doesn’t want to use this option, as well as what it takes for him to be willing to use it, that I mostly feel sad for deku that he was forced to let Eri’s spirit possess him, instead of getting caught up in the hype of an awesome moment

Honestly though, that’s also my reaction to the chapter as a whole. It was full of interesting world building and was generally an awesome chapter, but it was also well written enough that I also feel Izuku’s emotions and mostly just feel melancholy now.(Seriously, when I look back on it, “I invite you in” opened the gateway to an awesome and well deserved ass kicking, but it’s mostly just heart breaking. Why can’t I just enjoy Izuku kicking ass? Why?)

ahaha yeah, i try to have good reasons for why characters do or don’t take certain actions, and this whole fusion thing is something he keeps REALLY close to his chest... i’m glad that carried across well! it is very sad though that he feels cornered into using this ability. 

thanks for reading!

Anonymous said: Just wanted to say thank you. I think this sounds weird, but you finishing up chapter 5 of msa actually helped motivate me and I managed to finish my essay for a class.

OH? i’m glad to hear that! congrats on finishing the essay!

Anonymous said: This chapter was so fucking perfect I'm crying diamonds. What in all heavens and hells are you, you godly creature? I am so bloody happy you exist in this world. In this time line. I love your stories so damn much!

thank you so much!! i’m really happy to hear this <3 

Anonymous said: I love how just Done with everything msa Izu/ku is with everything. The fact that the only person he treats like a Person and not another threat to his Cryptid Status is Er/i and he just brings her home. I just. I LOV UR WRITING OK

it’s because eri pings None of his danger senses and All of his “i have to do something about this” senses. izuku is constitutionally incapable of helping someone in need. 

and thank you!! i’m glad you like it!

Anonymous said: I hope you know that i was able to read about half a page before i fucking died laughing i lov msa de/ku so much

i try to serve my darkfic with a large side of comedy

Anonymous said: I have the vivid image of msa Deku running into Aizawa by accident and just slowly walking backwards before turning to the sky and yelling "I HAVE DEPRESSION AND ANXIETY! I! DO NOT! HAVE TIME FOR THIS SHIT AS WELL!!!" while Aizawa slowly comes to the conclusion that he must adopt and save this troubled child.

this is hilariously close to some future scenarios i have in mind

Anonymous said: seeing a new chapter of msa honestly made my heart skip a beat in excitement. i have SO MANY questions and thoughts about this universe, i think i could ask you questions for hours, it sparks my imagination and curiosity in the best way. but for now, i just wanted to sincerely thank you for choosing to share your story and thoughts and ideas with all of us! it's always a delight, and i don't take it for granted at all. thank you, and i'm wishing you all the best always!!

thank you so much for this message!! it always makes me happy to know that others are enjoying this story as much as i am <3 i hope the best for you as well!

Anonymous said: What I expected in MSA ch.5: PAINPAINPAINPAINPAIN What I got: PAINPAINPAIN also Izuku adopts Eri, and Rappa for some reason (or did he adopt them!?!? DUNDUNDUN)

i cant publish a chapter without doing something a little fun, right? 

also im laughing at the idea of izuku adopting rappa, a fully grown man, as opposed to the other way around. izuku would hate this concept if anyone ever said it to him.

Anonymous said: so is msa iz/uku's tragic backstory basically being a walking disaster for all of his life until the point where he would have, in canon, met all might, and the msa version of the all might/one for all is the Temple and the subsequent ShitStorm™?

nope! the temple is something else 

Anonymous said: 💖💖💖💖💖💓💖💓💓💕💕💓💕💕💕💝💝💞💝💟💟💟💟💟💟💞💝💝💝💝💝💟💟💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘❤❤❤❤💙💚💚💚💛💙💚💜💚💛💚💜💙💜💚💟💞💗💞💟💟💜💚💛💚💘❤💘❤❤❤💞💟💝❤

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Anonymous said: i was stuck in a car for 3+ hours tonight but when i saw msa ch5 was up i was so excited, i spent the whole ride reading and re-reading it, it’s fantastic and you are too! <3

wow thats some dedication!! i hate reading in the car. thank you and im glad you liked it!!

Anonymous said: simk pls tell me we get roommate shananigans it would make my entire life. just a tired teen, a middle age man literally off the street, and their prepubescent daughter/little sister/niece/etc.

oh yes absolutely. this is a vital part of the au. don’t forget the cat

Anonymous said: hi hello i just want to say that your writing is amazing and gives me life and i get really really really excited every time you update. thanks for blessing us with such good fic <3

thank you so much!! i’m super glad to hear <3

Anonymous said: so izuku not only has eri but also the guy most likely to have been in kumite from bloodsport at his place. great job kiddo. (i mean that both genuinely and sarcastically)

izuku’s existence just naturally warps the reality he lives in into a circus show

Anonymous said: thanks to that one ask i can't stop laughing at the scenario of msa izu trying to get groceries and is seen by kiri / aizawa / tbh any hero. rappa and eri is with him and izu just stares at the heroes dead in the eye and leaves the place. he swears to never return there ever again

also hilariously close to some scenarios im contemplating

Anonymous said: DID MSA!DEKU EVER CATCH A BREAK ONCE IN HIS LIFE??? DID THAT EVER HAPPEN, SIMK. OVERHAUL IS UP THERE W ENDEAVOR I CANT BELIEVE U MANAGED TO MAKE ME HATE HIM THIS MUCH SNAKDNANFKW (btw? how much of a fucking RIOT would it be if the heroes did the exact same thing in canon, and when it came to the actual retrieving eri part theyd just find someone waving frantically "SHES ALREADY GONE, YOU IMBECILES. YOU FOOLS"

overhaul is easily hatable if you just extrapolate from his canon actions. cant wait for him to get fucking clowned

i think it would be really funny but kind of depressing if the heroes did that. izuku please help them

Anonymous said: u really dont fuck around, do u, simk?? this is really a chapter that i just read i really saw him getting experimented on by overhaul for real??? I REALLY SAW HIM DISMISS IT AS IF IT WAS ANY OTHER DENIAL WEDNESDAY???? DID THAT BOY EVER CATCH ONE (1) BREAK IN HIS ENTIRE LIFE?? also DAMN! HE Really Fucking Did That HUH HE BUSTED HER OUT OMG.. CANT WAIT FOR THE SIBLING RELATIONSHIP FEELINGS THING :') (also how much of a fucking RIOT wld it be if the heroes busted eri out but (1/2)

but when they ARE actually at the 8ps hq they just?? dont find her??????and everyone there is like "SHES ALREADY GONE YOU IMBECILES. YOU FOOLS." (2/2)

i really dont fuck around!! i hope!! i decide on a track and i stick to it!! as soon as i finished the first scene i knew that overhaul was going to Do That and i spent a few days agonizing over it and asking myself if i was really ready to go all the way with this. if i was really going to write it! i did write it. i am still occasionally in disbelief. 

yes. sibling relationship all the fuckin way 

Anonymous said: Is what happened at the temple the thing that made MSA Izuku give up on being a hero?

nah izuku giving up on being a hero is more just pessimism, cynicism, and paranoia trained into him by years and years of dealing with spirits and believing that he shouldn’t exist 

Anonymous said: this is all really silly but uhh,,, isn't izuku loosing credits? has his mother been informed of his absences? does he have anyone who can help him catch up with the missed material? is our boy going to graduate?

i dont really know how credits work in japanese schools, or how the absences thing works... he’ll be fine though, pinky promise

Anonymous said: Eri pulls back and looks up at them curiously. “Deku?” They peer down at her. She’s so small! She’s so near! “You look different. You…” She reaches up, and they bend down obligingly. Her hand touches something attached to the skull above the eyes -- my horn, the kirin whispers. “You have a horn like me,” she says, full of wonder, and touches it again. THIS ENTIRE FUCKING PART GOT MY HEART BEATING SO FAST. I LOVE THEM!!!! ILOVE HOW ERIS SPIRIT IS NOT A TOTAL ASSHOLE TOO!!!

trauma kid solidarity!!!! i am so excited for these two you have no idea

i, too, love it when a spirit shows a basic modicum of decency and is NOT Like That to izuku 

Anonymous said: "neptune" by sleeping at last gives me very kiri/msa!deku vibes

cool, i’ll check it out!

Anonymous said: Angry msa!izu/ku: acts like an alley cat, threatens to break a villain's dishes, talks a lot of bullshit, also kind of sad and depressed. Angry™ msa!izu/ku: frightens the hell out of everyone just by looking at them, makes everyone question their life choices, makes them feel small and insignificant and makes fun of said life choices, not exactly human.

yeah. i love msa izuku and  his anger is Valid 

Anonymous said: This chapter: Rappa: fight me MsaIzuku: no Rappa: fight me pls MsaIzuku: no Rappa: let me fight the people around you? MsaIzuku:....... Fine

this is a really great summary of that conversation

Anonymous said: Izuku's threat to throw all of M. Compress' dishes on the floor like that is the Worst thing you can do to someone made my entire day thank you

i’m really glad because this was the funniest threat i could think of besides “i’m going to break into your home and piss on your bed” 

Anonymous said: HE'S JUST A KID SIM

you know i had to do it to ‘em picture 

Anonymous said: Msa is just so so amazing!?!? I honestly love it so much. The way you write is so wonderful and it's practically doubled by the fact that the entire idea for the au is also wonderful. Izu is amazing and I love him. Thank you thank you thank you :')

aahhh im really happy you like it!! thank you for reading & supporting!!

Anonymous said: Rappa: "let me join you" ; msa!Izuku: "absolutely fucking not" ; Rappa: "I can be ur meat shield" ; msa!Izuku: *clenching and unclenching his fist, glaring up at the god he does not believe in as he leads Rappa and Eri to his home* "I fucking hate you"

izuku’s one weakness... trying to help others

Anonymous said: iirc, guardian spirits are bound to their respective charges by proximity but can still move around, but do they have to be close by when the quirk is used? Or will the quirk not be as effective?

nah, they don’t need to be nearby, one cool effect of being bound to a human is that the human has a store of the guardian spirit’s energy 

Anonymous said: Thoughts on the game OFF? Played it recently and it gave me Msa!spirit world vibes. The use of man made substances making up the natural world (e.g drinking plastic not water) just really stuck with me as something bizarre and very second intonation like. Although if you do explore the spirit world I guess you might have something maybe more mythological in mind? (Also the soundtrack is stunningly eerie).

never played OFF but i love its aesthetic so much 

Anonymous said: I'm gonna print msa out and it eat it. gochisousama

pfft itadakimasu 

Anonymous said: Hahahah holy shit that new chapter dialed things up to, like, 22 instead of 11 holy shit izuku oh no. (“Achievement Unlocked: 5+ Levels Of Trauma Added At Once!” msa!izuku: can I get a, uuuuhhhhhhh, refund?) skin creature is super creepy and perfect fit. Btw, side thought - however the heroes find out abt this whole mess, I bet they feel really guilty (shit, izuku puts foot in mouth and accidentally says smth. Kiri: horrified izuku: makes it worse by trying to leave topic) thx I Love it. V good!

once i committed i had to go all the way...

the ensuing conversations between izuku and the heroes are probably going to be kind of funny, and also a little sad. im looking forward to it. thank you for reading!

Anonymous said: Okay, I'm just catching up on the recent chapters of msa and this is what I've been getting so far Everyone: you have to understand- Msa izuku, restrained: no

correct. msa izuku refuses to accept your terms 

Anonymous said: Ahaha, geez, MSA chapter 5 was A M A Z I N G. Poor Izuku. Geez, the scene where he's tossed into his cell and just spends fifteen minutes crying and freaking out hurt so bad. And he remembered to (try and) call for help!!! Hopefully he tries again in the future, when it'll work (hopefully). I also got very excited by the Kirin!!! Like, holy smokes!!! Someone who actually doesn't want Izuku to suffer, and is willing to take steps to make that happen!! Yes good!! Plz timewalker protect this child

thanks carwash for being like the only friend izuku has

the relationship between izuku and the different spirits hanging around his house is probably going to be pretty fun. i know i’ve pulled a lot of bullshit in the past two chapters but i still have some new fuckery to introduce. i hope you are all excited for this

Anonymous said: would any other human be able to learn to speak in the second intonation in the msa au? Did msa deku learn the second intonation from someone, or is it just something he's always known?

1) good question! i haven’t decided yet. 2) he learned from someone else! who you will find out soon

Anonymous said: me: nobody has to get owned today. please, please put down the markers and step back msa izuku: Fuck oyu.

i totlaly forgot this was a thing but you know what? yeah. im laughing this is such a fitting quote

Anonymous said: you know by far one of the best aspects of msa izuku is just. He is a constant Power Move. and yet he would probs hate that. like this boy wants to be left alone and get some fuckin peace but in all his interactions whether he intends to or not he just fuckin busts a fuckin Move and its like holy shit holy fucking shit he did that.he did That. He doesnt want to do That he doesnt even realize its happening and thats why its a fuckin Power Move. Love this au i LOVE ur work and love ur storytelling

reminds me of @salvainterra‘s description of izuku: “izuku is both an unstoppable force and an immovable object and its through this paradoxical existence that hes reached the ultimate tier of not giving a fuck. good on him”

thats the secret behind it all!

Anonymous said: I love msa chapter five but I'm so worried about Izuku. He's a single teen parent of two now and he keeps missing school, how will he graduate and get in a position to follow his dreams of being alone and doing calligraphy if he misses so much of school that he doesn't get a diploma???

he will be ok! 

hey im really laughing at this because youre really including rappa as one of the people izuku adopted?? is this a thing now?? 

Anonymous said: (in msa) I am so glad you had Izuku save Eri omg. that poor child has been through enough (but also, omg the suffering you're putting Izuku through (it's great, keep going)). I'm super keen to see where you take this!!

i know im really putting izuku through the paces. while i was writing the first half of ch5 i kept telling myself that this was all for eri’s sake but MAN that was dark

thank you! im excited to pull some more bullshit. im glad you’ve been enjoying the story so far!

Anonymous said: Me reading the new msa chapter: ‘a family can be a Kirin, a girl who can disintegrate people, a supernatural teenager, a street brawler and perpetual sadness’ seriously tho it was really great and I loved it!!!

MFLNDLFKSDJF AND PERPETUAL SADNESS IM LOSING IT!!!

don’t forget the mysterious shadow spirit who may or may not be a cat 

i’m really glad you liked the chapter!!

Anonymous said: bc of allmights style i think of one for all's spirit just being a fucking american on the fourth of july with american flags everywhere and waving a minature flag threateningly and i cant stop thinking about it....

fortunately for us, that is incorrect 

Anonymous said: "Okay I've finally caught up on the backlog of work I've got, let's check in on my favourite blog and writer SIMKJRS and see what they're up to recently." *sees that you updated like a week ago* aaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

jflskdfj glad you’re excited for this!! i know i only update like once in a blue moon, 

Anonymous said: hey i just want to say that i love everything about msa; the writing, the story, the imagery, ALL OF IT thank you for making such a wonderful gift!

thank you!! im grateful for your support <3

[ifuckinhatemymom-blog]

Letting go of my fp

I was obsessed with him so much it put a strain on my relationship. It started before I was diagnosed. I didnt even know what was happening to me. Think of the biggest dickhead in the world, and imagine yourself infatuated with him. I even wondered if I had genuine feelings for him. I didnt, fucking obviously I didnt It was this fucking disorder warping everything and making my life a living hell Im not even sure why it happened. I usually keep people at a distance from me. I dont value peple in my life but he suddenly came in my life and he was the coolest, funniest, most charming son of a bitch I ever laid eyes on. (Seriously though, he is a fucking asshole.) He has a lot of issues of his own. Like super super depressed and self harming in every way you could think of. The friends group I was in? Everyone hated him. Treated him like shit, talked shit about him behind his back. I didnt understand why people could pretend to be his friend but hate him so much. It is so fucked. Anyway they probably had reason to hate him (theyre not excused from being fake assholes, he is still a fucking human being) because he was rude and mean. I was the only one who would properly call him out on his shit. I was also his biggest cheerleader and defender. I saw the positive side of him, saw how much pain he was in. I took it upon myself to try and "fix him". Lol. Obviously, that wasnt and is not and never will be possible. I became obsessed with helping him, being there for him, I forced my way into his life, I sledge hammered through the walls he had up whether he wanted it or not, and for a moment I felt so close to him and so happy because this was also the first time I had a friend of MY OWN? MINE? MY friend, because everyone-- including my girlfriend-- fucking hated him. I hadnt had an FP since I met my girlfridnd and that was 8 years ago. I had been giving HER my heart mind body and soul (dealing with the torment of that not being reciprocated for years. Honestly I feel like ill never trully feel im 100% her priority or like she loves me as much as I love her but fucking what ever). Anyway she was the one everyone was drawn to and I was always kind of the one off to the side, she would introduce people to me and thats how I would make friends. Do you see where im going with this? The preference everyone had for her over me was clear as day and I struggled with that and her being the center of attention for years. I was shy, awkwardly ugly as fuck, my fat didnt fall well on my young body yet, I was shit. Fucking pathetic and gross. She has BPD too. (Invalidated me alot when we were younger, I couldnt share any of my feelings without her making it obvious that I, and I quote, "will never be as crazy as her". I shit you not.) It all shifted when we joined a larp at this dingey little alternative school. By then, my skin was clear, my hair was the BRIGHTEST fucking pink you could imagine, still fat but I honestly wear it very well now, and my confidence was higher than it was since I was maybe 6 years old. Bitch. That group was eating out of the palm of my fucking hand. It was the first time that I was the group leader/head bitch in charge. She didnt seem to mind it! Said she was happy for me. But again. First time for me. He wanted to be my friend, too. He was intimidated I could feel it off him. It felt great. He respected me more than he did anyone else in the room and he made it apparent. I guess I internally knew him and I would be close friends and that everyone would be mad about it. One of the guys at the program was oddly possesive over me and he particularly hated my FP the most out of everyone. Started treating me different as FP and I got closer. Exluding me, doing things to pin me and FP against each other. Shit got weird. There is a whole ass history when it comes to that boy but ill bitch about that in another post. Anyway as I was trying to say before getting sidetracked, the minute I laid eyes on FP it was almost instant? I could read his vibe(badass bad boy asshole the fucking works), and on top of that he was attractive. Instant. I needed him to be my friend. My close, cool, bad ass friend. Fast forward to me crying to my brothers because my girlfriend was fed up with the little relationship I had going on with him. I began to resent her, thinking that she wasnt allowing me to have friends of my own when deep down I knew what the fuck I was doing was wrong and if I were her I would have cussed me AND FAUGHT HIM a looooong time ago, but I was lying to myself and to her. He has a girlfriend he loves very much, yet he would do things on purpose to make my girlfriend jealous? Like one time when I was running late to the program (no surprise) my girlfriend didnt have a phone at the time, I was texting him and shit telling him when I would be there and shit like that. And you know what he does? He says "its a shame you dont have a phone, because shes texting me instead of you right now." To my girlfriend. Needless to say when she told me this shit I was pissed off but did I say anything to him? No. I was hurt, though. Because just like everyone else in my fucking life, he was using me to get to her even if in a negative way. He kept doing little shit like this. He invited me over his house to play with his pets in front of my girlfriend and purposely excluding her (he had promised her she could visit and meet his cat a few weeks prior) And what did I do? Like a giddy pink school girl, I anxiously agreed to go to his house alone. in front of her. I did it because I never get asked to hang out on my own. I wanted him to be my friend and have someone be only mine for once. My distorted thinking was making me not care about how it made my girlfriend feel, because inside I was in her shoes countless times and it was sort of a silent revenge. He was toxic. I mean toxic. I felt ignored often, belittled, made to feel like I was a stupid little girl and like he was above me and like he needed to baby me, when really I was helping him better himself. A real asshole. Class A shit. My best friend and my girlfrend hated him so much at this point. It must have been so obvious to everyone else. I feel so fucking stupid. Just the other day I was trying to talk to him about some basic shit and he again ignored me and sent a meme instead. He did that thing often where you can say something to him but he will change the subject to what ever it was he wanted to be talking about, completely ignoring anything I had to say. Questions, statements, talking about my dreams or wants, opinions, all fucking ignored like it didnt fuckng matter. The other day I brought it up. He used excuses and didnt even try to listen or say sorry or that he would try and fix it. None of that. And I guess im just going to have to accept that I will never be special to him, im not valuable enough to him for him to even care or listen. Fuck him. Im fucking done with him. My girlfriend and I and the relationship isnt centered around him and I anymore, I think ive let go of him months ago but its becoming more concrete these days. I let him go the first time for her, because at the end of the day I love her over everyone and no one will ever change that... but it wasnt for me. I didnt do it to save myself I did it to save the relationship, I distanced myself. This time im letting go because im finally accepting that I need to do it for my own sake. For me. For my health. My sanity. Good bye FP. I hope this never happens to me again. -nani P.S I will try and dissect this entire situation in bpd terms at some later point. Like what caused my certain behaviors, what was happening because of my illness and trauma, a general analysis of it from what would maybe be more of a psychiatric view. Im no professional but despite all my shit im super analitical and im good at looking at cause, effect, rationalizing etc. When it comes to others and after im finished having a personal experience.