#her shorts are supposed to be those puffy ones haha

[caramelmochacrow]

happy birthday fusuke!!!! i wanted this to match my mashiro one a few months back :D

[majorproblems77]

Something different for you today!

So for those who dont know, I am a Star Wars fan and have been for a very long time. I follow a Star Wars AU @high-fantasy-sw by @margindoodles2407. Which is basically what if we took Star Wars and put it on the sea with magic and alchemy.

And in light of her releasing the information about the clone rings I've written something up for it. (and it is changed a little, have fun with this one margin) - If you want to know more the post is here!

In fact, I wrote this in an hour while talking to her about it a few days ago haha.

I'm sorry it turned out this way - A high-fantasy Star Wars short story

A knock at the door rose Anakin's head from his desk. His eyes were still fixed on the twin blades which now lay lifeless in front of him. These were Ahsoka's blades, the green Kyber crystal in their hilts still shining with her life force. Though their wielder was now who knows where on the high sea.

He missed her.

A knock sounded again.

He could ignore it. Drown in his sorrows. As much as Obi-Wan would not approve. As much as his teachings told him that emotion and attachment were bad. But it was persistent. How were they supposed to form bonds with their padawans but not... Not...

That knocking really was persistent.

"Who is it?" He sounded to the wind. If it was urgent they'd have called for him. Unless this was the call for him.

"It's me. Uhh. Rex. Sir." Ahh, the captain. He didn't turn to the door, his eyes remained fixed in front of him. The memories of years of trials and battles sitting on the edge of his mind.

Maybe it was important If the captain had come down himself. He paused. "You have your orders captain, please leave me be."

"With all due respect Sir. I dont think thats the best idea right now. Can i come in?" The captain's voice was persistent. The sound of glass clinking softly echoed softly through the cramped quarters. Ahsoka's quarters…

"Rex." He warned gently. He did not want to do this right now. "Please, not right now."

"Anakin." The sound of glass clinked again. "Please."

That made his eyes widen. As he turned to the door. The captain never. Never used his name. That was grounds for disciplinary. That was grounds for…. He. He wouldn't have...

He really needed a friend right now.

Damit, he hated that the captain was so insistent.

Like she was....

"Come in." He said, turning away from the door again to face the lightsabers placed carefully on the table. Through the corner of his eye, he could see the clone. He was dressed down, his eyes red and puffy as he stood in the doorway for a moment.

He'd been crying.

He was holding a small tray two small opaque glasses sat on top of it. He took a breath and entered slowly. Gently placing the tray on the table where the general was sitting.

"We. We heard. We know about the commander." The captain's voice was surprisingly steady for someone who looked like he did. Puffy cheeks stained. Cheeks fading from red. "Are... Are you okay?"

Anakin lowered his head as he gripped his hands tighter against the table. That was all the response the clone captain needed.

"You know about the chain. right?" The captain asked quietly, crouching beside him. Placing a hand, his right hand. Against the table. A sign of support. Much more than anyone at the Temple would have given him.

"I do." He said, raising his eyes slightly. Still not looking at the other man in the room. He shuffled on his feet slightly into a more comfortable position.

"Then you know about why we paint them."

He did. It was a way for them to honour the ones they'd lost. He'd only seen the chain itself once when Rex had heard about Echo. The commander was devastated and had holed himself up in his quarters for several hours.

When he'd gone to check up on him, he'd found the captain painting a chainlink blue.

"I… I want to. Paint this section here." He pointed to his right hand, in the middle of the back of his hand. "Green."

"Rex." Anakin stumbled on the name, he knew what that meant to the men of his battalion. They were a sentimental bunch, Rex most of all. Having painted the segments around his wrist the colour of his battalion a hundred times over for the men he lost and would continue to lose. The middle section of the chain had always remained the steely grey from basic training.

He'd always said he wanted to leave that for him, and later on Ahsoka. "It's the only thing we have thats ours." The captain continued to look at his gloved hand As if looking at the chain beneath it. "I wanted to get your permission to get the colour. I want it to be right."

"Rex…"

"The others have asked too." The captain looked to the air above him. Blinking tears from his eyes. "But we didn't want to overwhelm you."

"I… Rex." He took a shaky breath. it was quite the honour for the clone captain to ask this of him. But they didn't have access to paint on the high seas. There was no green packed. Only blue.

"Rex, I dont know how the colour matching works." He turned away from the captain. "The only paint we have onboard is blue."

"Kik's told me how to match from clear." The captain tapped the jar on the left-hand side. "It won't leave anything behind. I won't even touch it."

He sat on that information for longer than he would have liked. Ahsoka had been the last person to ignite these blades. She was attuned to their very presence. To pull a colour match from them would be like she was here for just one more moment.

"Okay… Okay…"

Rex placed a hand on his shoulder. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah… Yeah, I'm sure." He turned "Just do it fast before I change my mind."

The captain picked up a brush and gently placed it into the first glass, a clear substance dripped from the brush slowly. Placing the brush near the kyber crystal in the hilt allowed the blade to shimmer for just a moment before the brush echoed its colour. Shining a bright green before he placed it back into the jar. Mixing it as the substance changed from clear to green.

"The captain picked up the jar and inspected the colour of the paint inside it. happy with his work he placed it down slowly. "Sir?"

"Yes."

"I… I want to be here. If that's okay."

His breath hitched. As the captain offered the brush to him. He took it silently as he removed the glove from his hand. The chain of brotherhood on the captain's hand stood as a still canvas as he looked down at it.

The colours on it shifted in the candlelight as the captain placed his hand on the table bedside him. Quickly passing the brush back to the captain, who placed the brush gently on the chainlinks. Passing paint across them gently.

Anakin watched silently. He'd only seen a handful of his men paint the chains that adorned their hands like this. Rex only once. When he'd lost Echo. It was a hugely important part of their mismatched culture. One of the things that made them unique in an army where you all look the same.

"Rex you dont have to do this in front of me. I know that it's important." Anakin sat upright as the captain continued to paint.

"Sir. You and the commander mean the world to me. It wouldn't be right to do this alone. Not like… not like…" A sniff gave away the captain's true feelings as he gripped the brush tighter. his hand shaking as his breath hitched.

He never thought he'd be painting this section. He never wanted to paint this section. After a few silent minutes, he placed the brush down. raising his hand to inspect the chain and the rapidly drying paint.

Pulling his wrist into his chest he gave a shaky breath. His arm trembling as he looked to the Jedi who remained in place. "For what it's worth Sir." He said, turning to the door. "I'm sorry it turned out this way."

"So am I rex. So am I."

[asbestieos]

the context is my non enstarrie friend bestie made a writing game out of combining TWO (2) enstars characters, making a fankid from them, and writing out a hypothetical meeting between parents and fankid ^_^ dont think about how this meeting is happening in the first place. dont think about the temporal or spacial dilations nedcessary for any of this to happen .dont think about it too hard . there is no real logical explanation other than shenanigans. anyway have fun!!! @bluestbluejay @head-full-of-empty

“Thanks for coming in, Chiaki-san.”

Chiaki nodded to Madara as he slid his coat off, eyeing the child sat atop Madara’s bed. He couldn’t have been older than ten.

The boy’s hair was dark brown near the ends but a brighter orange at the top. Though cut relatively short, it covered his ears and seemed to brush upwards at the back. He wore a puffy little white jacket, a red t-shirt sporting the image of some kind of humanoid monster, and cargo shorts. Freckles adorned his cheeks, pupils the same hue as Chiaki’s own.

“Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! RYUSEI Red!” the kid gushed, his eyes abright with excitement.

“… Haha! Mikejima-san, it’s not like you to host a private meet-and-greet!” Chiaki exclaimed, offering him a grin. “Who’s this little guy?”

Madara, who had closed the door to his dorm, now leaned against it, arms crossed. His face maintained its detached smile, but his eyes were creased with concern. More than usual.

“According to himself… that’s ‘our’ child.”

Chiaki blinked, all of his RYUSEI energy quickly draining from his body and face.

“Whuh?”

“Madara, shhh!” their apparent ‘child’ hushed, a finger to his lips. “Someone outside could hear you! In public, Chiaki is RYUSEI Red, not my dad!”

Though flubbing his words, Chiaki tried to recover, ���Our— Our child?”

“Oh, sorry… I’ll introduce myself!” The boy straightened his back, setting a fist on his chest. A wide grin decorated his face. “My name is Yuki Judai[1], but m’ birth name is Morisawa! Nice to finally meetcha, Papa! Or- I can’t say that… Chiaki!”

Chiaki felt as if he might pass out.

“Chiaki, is Madara watching me?” Judai asks one night, just as a tired Chiaki, eyes bogged down by sleepless months between idol work and childcare, tucks him into bed.

It takes Chiaki a moment to absorb the question, and even then, he’s perplexed and disoriented from exhaustion. “Hm? Aahh… What do you mean…?”

Judai falls quiet, his gaze directing towards the wall. Chiaki takes the silence as hesitance.

“I’ll listen to you, Jyu.” He rests a hand on the child’s head, gently petting it.

“Sometimes Koko[2] and me watch mahoshojo movies when I’m over at Kuro’s,” Judai mumbles. “And sometimes, when the protag girl’s mom is missing, it turns out her mom was watching over her the whole time, but couldn’t live with her, to protect her.”

Oh. Chiaki’s eyes widens.

“Is Madara watching over me like that?” Judai’s gaze slides back towards Chiaki, who now looks away at the floor.

Of course it’d be a heavy question. Another one he couldn’t answer honestly. Another white lie he had to give to spare him some of the heartbreak Chiaki carried himself.

Chiaki drew his memories back to the last time he spoke to Madara . A few years ago, just a few months after Judai had suddenly came into their lives. They’d agreed to cut off contact completely for the sake of their careers, and it was on Chiaki to raise ‘their’ kid on his own as subtly and secretly as he could to avoid scandal. Even in all their time together, Madara never said a word of why — beyond he ‘didn’t want them to be hurt’.

It was maddening. How was Chiaki supposed to tell their kid that? How was he supposed to take that as anything but treason, anything but Madara Mikejima once again abandoning those he loved, doing what he thought would spare their feelings (and maybe his own)? And though Chiaki objected afterwards, since that day, he could never get in contact with Madara, even as he continued to tour as MaM.

There were signs that Madara still cared. Occasionally, sometimes with weeks between, unmarked envelopes with checks of thousands of yen upward arrived in his mail, so the two of them must still be a thought in Madara’s mind. But not enough to warrant visits or calls or even letters beyond money.

Maybe it was time to break that truth to Judai. That Madara wasn’t watching and never was, that he would never acknowledge either of them again. A small part of Chiaki believes Judai had already figured it out on his own anyhow. An even smaller part of him, the one keeping their reality in the dark from Judai in all that time, tries to claw his throat shut as he opens his mouth.

Before he can speak, Judai turns over on his side and tucks his head under the covers.

“Nevermind. Sorry I asked.” He whispers, “I already know he’s not paying attention. You don't, either.”

His heart drops to the floor and shatters like glass.

His mind now scrambled, Chiaki tries to force what comforting words he had out. Something to the tune of no, no, he loves you or he still thinks of you. The usual words given whenever Judai’s mourning Madara’s absence. Anything to tide him over until the morning when Chiaki would hopefully be more awake, have more energy to sort out the mess of a mental state both of them must be in, have more time to squeeze between jobs and RYUSEITAI practice.

Instead, he relents quietly, “I’m sorry, Judai.” He rubs the kid’s back through the blanket, offering what little comfort he could give without lying through his teeth for once. Surely it wasn’t enough. Far from enough. Years of starving for their affection could hardly be satisfied by a backrub.

“… Tell you what— I’ll make you breakfast in the morning, okay? Omurice with ketchup and maybe some miso.”

He doesn’t expect a reply, and he doesn’t receive one. After a good amount of silence, once he can hear Judai’s incredibly fake snores, Chiaki leans down and kisses his head through the blanket.

“Goodnight,” he sighs, finally rising to leave.

[1] sorry only the Yugioh GX luvin girlmutuals will understand this one, judai yuki just reads sooo ChiaMada baby to me

[2] bs'd name for kuro's little sister ^_^

um tee hee tenk yu for reading the silliness. i was super bored and nutricula besties helpedme kill my boredom with this writing game :thumbsup: tenk you nutricula girlmutuals

twirls hair cutely would anyone want to read silly chiamada drabble

[httpdabi]

Break up

Summary: After having a messed up break up, your best friend Dabi is there to comfort you, and give even more than you asked for.

Word count: 5,2k

Genre: romance, smut, no quirks haha

Warnings: 18+, creampie, public sex, spitting, choking..

,, I fucking hate him’’ you cried loudly, mouth full of ice cream as you talked to your cousin over the phone. At this point you didn’t care of how loud you were, and you didn’t care about the fact that your cousin had a hard time understanding you since you were a crying mess. Sobbing loudly, you ignored the words coming from the other line.

,, That bitch cheated on me with Toga, can you believe that?’’ you sobbed, tears rolling down your cheeks as you wrapped yourself with your favorite comfort blanket.

,, The girlie with weird hair ?’’ your cousin asked in shock.

,,YES, the fuck she thinking she’s the fifth element with that hairstyle?’’ you choked out, throwing the empty package across the room, as your cousin giggled because of your remark. She wished she was closer so she could pay you a visit, but sadly miles and miles were separating the two of you.

Sure, the first person you wanted to inform about your breakup was Touya, but you couldn’t force yourself to bother him, knowing he’s probably on work. You knew very well that he would drop everything and come over, saying how he doesn’t feel well or some other shit, and you didn’t want that.

After the call ended, you stood up, ignoring your reflection on the window, knowing very well that you look like shit right now with all the smudged mascara over your face. Tears started rolling down your cheeks even more when you saw that there’s no ice cram anymore. What did you do to deserve such a torture.

Wearing your hoodie, you made your way toward the nearest store, ignoring the people that were giving you weird stares because of your silly Sailor Moon pajama shorts. You couldn’t care less of what anyone thought in that moment.

You went to the store with the intention to buy ice cream, only to end up in the part of it with variant different choices of hairdye. So many ideas were going thru your mind, as you looked all over it. You almost ended up buying the pink dye and some bleach, until you saw scissors hanging beside the bleach.

Grabbing the scissors only, you hurried up to pay everything you chose, rolling your eyes shamelessly as you saw Rumi, the cashier of the fucking day. For some weird reason, you almost hated the muscular bitch. Maybe it was because she never had the exchange to give you back, giving you a pack of gums instead. Maybe it was because of her attitude, always giving you some smart comments, how your skirt is too short, how there are kids here, or even because she always rolled her eyes when she saw you coming in.

,, Looks like someone had a rough day’’ she commented sarcastically, as you gave your best to keep calm and ignore her. After the comment, she shut her mouth and did her job.

,, Sweetie, can you help?’’ she asked, suddenly with a cute tone, when her co-worker asked her to bring him few paper bags that were beside her.

,, No, you are doing great’’ you spat, grabbing all of the items as you hurried out of the store. The fuck would you help her? She’s getting paid for it, not you. Stupid bitch.

Placing the ice cream into the freezer, you immediately made your way to the toilet as you unpacked the scissors almost aggressively. Why would you dye and ruin your hair with bleach, when you could just cut off a bit of your hair, which meant the exact length of his dick.

Your hair was already long, and the fact that his dick wasn’t that big meant that you would only cut few inches. After short calculating, you grabbed the scissors, as you turned some silly tutorial on Youtube. Watching yourself in the mirror, you cried even harder, not because you regretted your decision. It was more because you looked like a lunatic.

After you finished, you immediately washed your face, cleaning all the ruined make up. Sure it didn’t look like a professional person did your hairstyle, but it didn’t look bad either, in fact, you liked it.

Since you weren’t in the mood to do your make up, you only put a bit of face cream over your face, and bit of mascara to make your eyes pop up a bit, before you took few selfies to post on instagram.

You were too lazy to do it, all you wanted to do in the moment was cry some more and eat ice cream you just bought, while watching something on Netflix. But you had to do it, you had to embarrass him as much he embarrassed you.

,, Not gonna miss those 5 inches, Kai.’’

You wrote, laughing ironically at the caption under your selfie. It wasn’t the best selfie you ever took, but at least you didn’t look like you were suffering because of the breakup, and the much shorter hair was visible on it.

[cyxnaf] Touya Todoroki

,, What happened?’’

It wasn’t even a minute since you posted your photo on the instagram, and your best friend already messaged you there.

Bitch cheated on me

You replied, sending him a crying selfie, with a spoon in your mouth.

[cyxnaf] Touya Todoroki

I’ll be there in 15 mins

A smile crept on your face, as you read his message. You loved him more than anyone or anything else on the whole word. If it was someone else coming over, you would probably force yourself and clean the apartment. But since it was Dabi, you didn’t give a shit.

The moment he arrived, you started bawling your eyes out. Having a face to face conversation with someone, talking about the break up made your feelings awake again. Dabi in other hand tried to make you feel better, bringing you your favorite snacks, and trying to put Kai down.

,, I’ve never had drama, unless it’s with my inner self’’ you cried loudly. ,, And all of sudden, I’m being cheated on.’’ Adding you grabbed the chips from the paper bag and opened it almost aggressively. Touya laughed you out, pointing every drama you’ve been connected to.

,, Stop it, you’re supposed to make me feel better’’ you slapped his arm lightly, as he talked about the drama that happened back in high school, when you got into a huge fight with a girl that called your dog a rat.

Once Touya realized that your mood was only getting worse, he turned some documentary on Netlfix that he started watching few days ago, explaining everything about it to you. You couldn’t help but smile, as you listened to him explaining every small thing, making sure you won’t be confused once he plays the episode.

,, You only watched few episodes of one murder documentary and you think you’re Mr. worldwide intellectual.’’ You laughed, as he tried to explain professionally.

,, The fuck you talking about ? The only documentary you watch is Keeping up with the Kardashians, so shut the fuck up’’ he spat, rolling his eyes playfully as he played the documentary.

The thing he played was about some murder, nothing you would watch on your own, but you didn’t mind. Seeing him talk about it so excitedly made your heart warm and in that moment you didn’t care if you won’t be able to sleep next few days.

You always loved spending your time with Touya, you simply loved how even when none of you had something to say, the silence was never uncomfortable. Even just sitting with him was making you feel safe.

,, You really choped your hair’’ he said, as he started to play with your hair. Being tired from all the crying and with his gentle movements, you were not capable of replying, simply nodding your head in response.

,, It looks good on you’’ Touya complimented you, placing a soft kiss on top of your head. He noticed that you were zooming out, so he just continued to caress your, helping you fall asleep.

All the horrible thoughts he had washed away, once he saw your sleeping face. He could only smile to himself as he noticed how puffy your face got from all the crying. Sure, it wasn’t that visible, but he simply noticed it and found it more then cute.

He tried to act calm and suppress his feelings, he tried to be there for you, but when you talked about what happened, all he wanted to do was find that piece of shit of your ex and simply kill him. He couldn’t understand how did you always manage to find some weird boyfriends that didn’t appreciate and treat you as you deserved.

If you only gave him a chance, he would always be there for you, he would simply give you anything you wished for. Touya never understood how could you be so blind, never once did you notice his feelings for you. Never once did you question his behavior.

Every time you called him over, he would ditch all his plans and run to you. Every time you needed something, you knew very well that only Touya will help you 100%.

You woke up in your bedroom, a little bit confused about what time it was and if your best friend was still there. Taking your phone to check what time it is, your eyes widened when you saw a Instagram notification from Kai. That piece of shit had balls to like your photo.

Throwing your phone away, you started crying again, wishing the day you met him never happened. You wished you listened to your best friend when he told you that Chisaki ain’t the one for you.

,, You ok?’’ you heard Touya’s voice under the loud TV noise. In just a second he was beside you, warming your body with his own and wrapping his arms around you, telling you how everything is ok and how he’s there for you.

,, Come on, stand up’’ Touya commanded suddenly, forcing your upper body up. ,, We are leaving’’ he added, forcing you out of the bed. You were too confused to even think at that very moment, but you found yourself following his lead. Wearing one of your very oversized shirt that covered more than enough, you hurried out of your bedroom to Toyua who was waiting for you already all ready.

You didn’t know what was happening, and the pack of eggs in his hand was confusing the shit out of you, yet you found yourself in the passenger seat, doing whatever Touya planned at that moment.

,, Where are we going ?’’ you asked, tears long gone.

,, We’re egging his car’’ he said, as your eyes widened in shock.

,, Is that even legal?’’ you asked again, already all excited about it.

,, Nope’’ Touya laughed out, focused on the road. You were sure that Kai would know it was you, definitely. But he also won’t have balls to call the police on you, since you knew about all his dirty deeds, you knew about all the drugs he’s taking and having hidden somewhere in his house.

Kai didn’t live far away from you, so in only few minutes of drive the two of you found yourself in front of his car. Lighting one cigarette, Dabi took the paper that was placed on the windshield.

,, Stop perking on my spot’’ Dabi read out loud, pointing out the word he wrote wrongly. You laughed loudly as you remembered about Kai telling you about some dude parking his Motorcycle in front of his car, making it hard to get out of the spot for him.

,, He can’t write, but he can do meth I guess’’ you laughed, as Touya puffed on his cigarette.

You stood there close to Kai’s car, as you waited for your best friend to finish his cigarette. It was a quiet night, with no people around at all. Maybe it was the adrenaline that was rushing in your blood, or the fact that you spent all day crying like a mad person, but in that very moment all you felt was anger as you thought about your ex.

,,Here’’ Touya gave you the package, still smoking that cigarette. You weren’t sure if he took his time with cigarette or if the time was simply passing so slow for you, since he was a pretty fast smoker.

To his surprise, you grabbed one egg and immediately threw it on his car, making him rise his eyebrows and laugh in shock. You never did something like that before, so you didn’t really understand why the alarm didn’t go on. Was your throw too weak?

A huge grin formed on your lips as you threw another egg, you couldn’t stop the evil laugh as you watched the egg yolk all over the window and in that moment you wished you had rotten eggs instead. Watching you happy like that, Touya couldn’t hide his smile. He was almost sure that everyone could read his emotions, he was sure that everyone could say how much in love he was with you.

You were on your fourth egg when Touya took one from the package and threw it. You weren’t sure if he threw it with much more force, or if he already did this before, but when the egg hit the car, loud alarm took over the peaceful night.

,, Shit, we have to hurry’’ Touya said under his breath as both of you threw one more egg. Sure, Kai won’t call the police, but if someone else saw you, they sure will.

You were laughing loudly, as you took your last egg, ready to throw it while Touya explained to you at what you should aim for.

,, HEY’’ you heard a familiar voice, coming from the building you used to spend so much time in. Not even turning around, you threw the egg and rushed to Toyua’s car, hopping fast into passenger seat. The moment Kai got out, everything happened too fast.

You wished you could take a photo of his upset face as he looked over your car. You were sure that you never saw him mad like that.

,, YOU FUCKING SUCK’’ he yelled once he turned the alarm off, while Dabi was ready to drive off, laughing loudly with you.

,, AND YOU SWALLOW BITCH’’ you yelled, popping your head thru the window. Touya gave you a bit time to flip him a bird, before he drove fast off, leaving your ex boyfriend pissed on the road. Laughing loudly, you leaned back into the seat, satisfied with the little event your best friend thought of.

,, You are seriously the best’’ you said, still smiling widely. Touya nodded his head, focused on the road. Every time he took a look of you, his heart would skip a beat. He was so fucking glad that you weren’t sad anymore, at least not for now.

You weren’t sure what had he planned next, since he wasn’t driving back home, but you didn’t care. You enjoyed his company, and you enjoyed the fact that you felt nothing else beside happiness in the moment. It was weird how fast emotions were taking over you. Just one hour ago you were a crying mess, and all of sudden you found yourself enjoying the night with your best friend.

You didn’t even realize how hungry you were, until Touya stopped by McDonalds to buy some food. Once he came back, placing the milkshakes and paper bag into your lap, you almost started drooling from the delicious smell.

He parked on the spot beside lake, where the two of you usually come to chill a bit. The music played on the low as the two of you ate slowly and talked about casual stuff. The moment a song from the famous tiktoker started playing in the background, you wished your hands weren’t so oily from the food. You wanted to change the song, but you didn’t want to make your phone oily, you weren’t even sure why you had that song in your playlist after all.

,, Does this song bother you?’’ he asked, taking a sip from his milkshake.

,, Yeah there’s a word that’s pissing me off’’ you rolled your eyes in annoyance.

,,Which one?’’ he asked confused.

,,When she says This ain’t build a bitch, you don’t get to pick or choose, what she should have said is nothing and just never release that stupid song’’ you hissed, wiping your hands as you changed the song that was pissing you off so much.

,, You are so cute’’ he complimented you, as both of you placed the rest of the food in the paper bag. Everything you did was cute to him, the was you sneeze is cute to him, the way you rise your brows when you are surprised, the way you laugh at your own jokes sometimes. Everything.

,,Did you know that Yumi got pregnant ?’’He asked you suddenly. Your eyes widened in shock, as you heard him ask, not because it was weird or anything like that, the two of you always gossip, but because you knew Yumi so well. You weren’t best friends with her, but the two of you would casually meet up.

,, Wasn’t she on the pills?’’ you asked, covering your mouth with your left hand. ,, Oh fuck no, I don’t claim this negative energy’’ you gasped shaking your head as Dabi laughed at your sudden reaction.

Talking about pregnancy and sex, you found yourself thinking about the last time you slept with your ex. You didn’t feel any sadness, all you felt was disappointment and anger. Just the thought that he was the last one inside you was making you mad, and the fact that only god knows when will you sleep with someone again was making you mad even more.

It’s not that you were a prude, or that you had something against one night stands. Sure, you could install Tinder and just find a quick fuck, knowing very well that the thought will bother you until the problem in your head is solved. But you weren’t the one to jump under the covers with a complete stranger.

,, What’s up?’’ Dabi asked once he saw you confused and lost in your thoughts. Hearing his voice, a sudden idea popped up in your head. You shook your head, trying to not think about it. He is your best friend for fucks sake, you can’t use him for something like that.

,, Nothing’’ you shook your head once again, trying to avoid his eyes.

,, Oh come on, tell me’’ he said stubbornly, as he placed his cigarette between his lips.

,, You know, the fact that Kai was the last person I had sex with, and the fact that I don’t know how long it will stay that way is bothering me’’ you confessed, skipping the part with the rest of your thoughts.

,, and you thought I could help you with it’’ Touya joked, as he puffed on his cigarette.

,, How did you know?’’ You asked way too fast, regretting it almost immediately once he almost choked onto the air and the smoke of his cigarette.

,, You can’t be serious’’ Touya said under his breath, closing his eyes as he spoke those words out. You weren’t sure why, but your heart sank a bit once you heard him say that.

,, Ah come on, it can be a quick fuck, it won’t change anything between us’’ he whined, turning your body to his direction. Once you said that, Touya grabbed you and forced you into his lap. You were more then shocked by his action, but you still positioned yourself comfortably in his lap, not sure if you should say anything or just wait..

,, You think I’ll be able to go back after it ?’’ he asked, one hand holding your waist firmly, and other holding his cigarette. ,, Doll, you should know better than anyone that I don’t do quick fucks’’ he added, as his grip got stronger. You weren’t sure if you should be embarrassed or not, but you felt uneasy at that moment, not sure where this all is leading.

,, If we do it now, there’s no going back doll, you’ll belong to me’’ he added again, as you sat in his lap confused. It was weird to hear him talk like that.

,, Touya, that can fuck up our friendship’’ you whispered. You were way too confused, not sure if he was talking about a relationship with you or just about you not sleeping with anyone else beside him.

,, And a quick fuck won’t do it?’’ he hissed, throwing the finished cigarette out of his window. He was right, both of it could fuck it up, and your idea was probably the worse option. The problem you had just few minutes ago was long gone, as new thoughts took over your mind. The fact that he was slowly placing soft kisses all over your neck didn’t help the situation, and the fact that you tiled your head to the side to give him more access to it didn’t help either.

You weren’t sure if you were simply too horny in the moment and if emotions took over you, but one part of you wanted to give it a try, yet another part of you was simply too scared of losing him. You did think about it before, how lucky can a girl be to call herself his girlfriend!? He’s not like other guys, at least not to you. He was always so caring, so gentle and so loving with you. He was the one who was always there for you, and in fact, you were more than sure that if you two start something, you won’t end up being hurt. But the fact that your friendship was under a question because of it was making you scared. Touya is the only person you never want to lose, and he knew that very well.

,, What do you say doll? Wanna try?’’ he asked, as he kissed your jaw softly. You weren’t sure how were you even capable of thinking at all in that moment.

,, Yes’’ you breathed out, closing your eyes shut as you enjoyed his soft kisses. Could you really lose him? If you had to worry about it so much, you should worry about the very exact moment. Why wouldn’t the current event ruin your friendship, now that you know that he doesn’t really see you as a friend as much as you thought. If you start some kind of a relationship with him, and if it doesn’t work, the two of you could talk it out.

The moment you said yes, Touya grabbed your yaw with his right hand, brushing his nose with your own before he connected his lips with yours. Once you placed your hands on his cheeks, trying to get closer to him, he couldn’t help but smile into the kiss.

What really drove him crazy was you rolling your hips on him. The fact that you had nothing else under your oversized shirt than your favorite panties almost made him cum in that very moment. Breaking the kiss, he leaned back into the seat, as you tried to catch your breath. Touya pulled your shirt up, exposing your naked chest. Not wasting any time, he placed his left on your right boob, pinching and twisting your already hard nipple, while sucking the other one.

Just the feeling of his hot breath made you throw your head back, enjoying the sucking and squeezing he was giving you. You placed your hands on his shoulders, finding support in it. Every roll you did with your hips, was met with his own one, making you feel his hard erection under his sweatpants. A quiet moan escaped your lips when you felt him bite on your nipple few times before he got back onto sucking it again.

Touya pulled your hips up a bit, giving you a sign to stay in that position as he pulled his sweatpants and boxers down, just enough for his dick to spring up. You knew that he had a dick piercing, in fact, you were in the waiting room when he decided to get it, but you still were shocked. It looked so good, so attractive.

You wanted to get out of his lap, you wanted to taste him, but his hands stopped you. Pushing you back onto his lap once again.

,, You have no idea how much I love you’’ he said, brushing his lips on your own, as he pushed your panties to the side and rubbed the tip of his dick around your hole.

,, I love you too, so much’’ you confessed, kissing him softly, as the pink head of his dick slowly entered you, hands on your hips slowly leading you down onto his length, until he was all in.

,, I know’’ Touya smirked into the kiss, enjoying the warmth of your walls hugging his dick. The hands on your hips slowly started to lead your hips up and down. The pace was so slow you could feel every inch of his dick rubbing against your velvety walls. Touya wasn’t one to enjoy the slow pace that much, but with you it was something else. He wanted to feel you as much as possible, and pushing his dick so slow into you gave him that possibility.

Just thinking about how it finally happened almost made him cream inside you. Closing his eyes, he let you move up and down his dick on your own. When you nuzzled your head into his neck he almost lost it, holding your hips down for few seconds just to calm his dick down. The small I love you that you whispered into his neck all over again didn’t help either, making it hard for him to control himself.

His hand found its way under your shirt, while his lips were all over your neck now, leaving sloppy marks all over it. You weren’t sure what did you enjoy more, his lips and hot breath over your neck, sucking and biting it, his hand squeezing your left breast or his dick deep inside you rubbing against your cervix.

Even tho you were moving your hips so slow, every time you were pushing your hips down, his would move upward, snapping against you with a little force and hitting your cervix perfectly. The both of you were breathing heavily, enjoying every second of the slow sex you had.

Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled your body closer to his, as he started moving just a little bit faster. You squeezed your eyes shut, as you realized that your climax was getting closer and closer with every move. Touya noticed your breathing getting faster, and your walls hugging his dick tighter then before, as he pulled your body up a bit, pushing you against the steering wheel and giving himself more access to move and fuck you a bit faster and stronger then before.

Moaning loudly, you wrapped your arms around him as you came all over his dick, almost shocked that you came without any clit stimulation. Dabi didn’t stop fucking you, helping you ride off the hard orgasm that just hit you.

Once he was sure you were done, he sat down. He lowered his seat, as he changed the position, locking you under him. Without giving you a chance to understand anything, he pushed his dick inside you.

,, I’m not done with you’’ he groaned, as he started moving his hips at much faster pace then before. Instead of saying anything, you wrapped your legs around him, placing your hands around his neck and just kissing him again. You couldn’t get enough of him, and luckily he felt the same. Accepting everything you had to offer, gladly.

The slow and steady pace was long forgotten, as he fucked you into the seat of his car with much more force and at one ungodly speed. You were pretty sure that the car was moving with every move he did, and you were sure if someone happened to be near, they would know what’s going on, but that was the last thing you cared of.

You were a moaning mess under him, and he was no better than you. You were surprised when you felt his hand around your throat, holding you in one place and playing with your breath. Open your mouth for me was all he said, before you felt thick saliva in your mouth. When it started, you thought it would be only some vanilla sex, the last thing you thought was that he would end up choking you and spitting in your mouth.

If it was someone else, you would probably freak out, but since it was him, you only obeyed, mouth open and tongue out, giving him approval for more.

,,That’s my good girl’’ he said, as he spat into your mouth one more time, while his grip around your neck only grew stronger. He was moving at rapidly speed, his skin slapping against your own was louder than the music that was playing in the background.

You closed your eyes as you started catching your breath once his hand moved away from your neck. Touya couldn’t control himself anymore, grabbing the edges of the seat, as he fucked into you. The pain mixed with pleasure was too intense for you, but you are his good girl, and you are doing so great for him, he made sure you understood that, as he repeated it all over again, while fucking into you.

The moment you felt his fingers rubbing your clit in circles, all you could do was squeeze your eyes shut, moaning loudly, as he told you to cum all over his dick, so you did as you were told and that was enough for him to reach his own high. Few harsh moves and he found himself cuming deep inside you. Even Toyua doesn’t know how did he find the energy to tell you how good you are milking his dick, but he did.

Collapsing on top of you, he fucked his seed inside of you, making sure not a single drop will get outside of your tight little out, making sure none of it will go to waste.

,, You’re mine’’ he said, placing soft kisses all over your face, and you were his. You were always his and he was always yours.

You weren’t sure how long would it take you to get over your stupid ex, but you were sure that Touya will be there for you and help you out in every way he can. Starting from the moment the two of you left your apartment, to the very moment the two of you cuddled inside of his car, after one steamy sex. All you could think of was your best friend and what would future bring you.

[uwurakax]

boy, i need you ♡

pairing: akaashi x reader ♡

genre: angst // cheating // minimal swearing // suggestive (not explicit) ♡

summary: he knew it was wrong, every fibre of his being told him it needed to end with you. so why couldn’t he bring himself to do it? ♡

♡ sequel to ‘boy, i hate you’ - read the first part here ♡

word count: 2k ♡

author’s note: warning, not proofread or anything! wasn’t planning on part 2, but then it was brought up and i thought “hey i can work w a 2nd pt”. reader has no gender mentioned - but again ig default fem if theres vibes here? idk. also have a note at the end so there’s no spoilers here haha. excuse the crappy writing as always - my 2am brain refuses to work at any other time ty for coming to my tedtalk that no one cares about ✌️ ♡

♡ (inspired by f.u by little mix) ♡

unfaithful

/ʌnˈfeɪθfʊl,ʌnˈfeɪθf(ə)l/

adjective

1. engaging in intimate relations with a person other than one’s regular partner in contravention of a previous promise or understanding

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Akaashi couldn’t say exactly why his infidelity started. Honestly there was nothing inherently wrong with your relationship. You were amazing, loyal, kind and everything he could ever want in a partner. He supposed at one point he was like that to you. Not anymore though. He could never be like that ever again. Not when he found comfort in the arms of another. Another that wasn’t you.

Akaashi knew it was wrong. Wholeheartedly he wanted to free you of the unforgivable. Did he take advantage of your sweet behaviour? Deep down inside, he knew he was. The cheap thrill of loving somebody else while you waited patiently for him back at home. Back at the home the both of you had made together. The home that he had inadvertently tainted with the presence of another. 

This is the last time.

How many times would he tell himself that? That the momentary pleasure he got from her was just that. That he’d stop before it went too far. 

Over a year later was already beyond what was classified as ‘too far’.

He couldn’t kid himself into thinking it was just a brief lapse in judgement anymore. Not when he didn’t stop. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to you in the slightest. How could he do that? To the one he promised to love. The one to always be there for you, care for you. To do everything a good boyfriend should do. 

To never, ever be the reason for your tears.

He knew he didn’t have the right to feel this way. It was selfish. Completely and utterly selfish. But when he’d come home and find you there waiting for him, while he was whispering sweet nothings, words that should’ve only been reserved for you, to somebody else just minutes prior, he couldn’t help but feel his heart ache. Akaashi, ever so observant, noticed that you stopped faking your smile. He remembers the first time he saw it. 

5 months after his unfaithfulness began, something he swore that’d happen just once, he saw the look on your face. The warm smile you had greeted him with just earlier that morning before he left, was now gone. This smile wasn’t as bright, and the shine didn’t reach your eyes. He didn’t like this smile. It was beautiful of course, because it was from you, but he didn’t like how fake it was. You had given him some half-assed excuse.

“I’m just a little tired Keiji”

He knew you too well. Knew you were lying to him, but he couldn’t bring himself to press on further. Day after day, your smile continued to drop. Further and further, until it was some terrible imitation of the one he had fallen in love with years ago. No matter how much you tried to hide it, he would always notice the slight redness in the whites of your eyes. Dark and puffy under-eyes that you tried desperately to conceal. The tone of your voice, no longer lively and cheerful. He supposed after a year, you just didn’t want to pretend to be okay anymore. 

This will be the last time.

He’d break it off with you. His silent promises to spare you from anymore pain. The guilt ate away at him, feeling the nausea rise in his stomach. You deserved someone better than him, someone who would treat you the way you should be treated. He used to be that guy. Where did that man go? What happened to him? He supposed he didn’t have the right to be that person anymore.

He was always so tense thinking on what to say to you. On how to finally admit his wrongdoings. Whether you knew of his actions behind your back, finally voicing them out would be the nail in the coffin. The confirmation that he was indeed doing the things that you were suspecting him of. Perhaps thats why you could never ask or actually push forward with it.

Because even if you knew, with great certainty, you could deceive yourself into thinking he was still the boy you had fallen in love with all those years ago.

Akaashi only received a fleeting moment of peace from his thoughts of you when she was around. He absolutely despised it. It was despicable how he could find a sense of safety in her arms. It should’ve been you, only you. It was wrong. Completely and utterly wrong, and yet he couldn’t help but think it felt right. It was wicked and evil, there was no other way to put it. Her hands. Her kisses. Her touch. All the moments with her made him forget about you, if only for a brief period. The gentle feel and traces of her were like invisible tattoos, covering all the places you had marked, kissed and touched.

It was all just too intoxicating for him. From her silky smooth hair to the softness of her skin. However, when he ran his fingers all over her body, he couldn’t help but think of you. God he was pathetic. So, so badly he knew it was wrong. He already had you, had your love, had everything you had to give. So why would he run for comfort to her, only to end up wishing it was you instead? It didn’t make sense, and he couldn’t understand it at all.

“Keiji, why don’t you stay the night?”

“I can’t, I’m sorry”

“It can’t keep going on like this. You guys should break up. Then you wouldn’t have to keep going back there, and then you can finally stay here with me. Isn’t that what you want?”

No, it wasn’t. It was probably the reason why he’d never stay over with her. Because he always wanted to come home to you. If he didn’t want to stay with her, if he didn’t sleep in the same bed with her, if he didn’t want to hold her hand - everything he wanted to do with you - why did he still do it? Why! Why! Why! It constantly plagued his mind. He was just selfish.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

And so, Akaashi sat in his car, with his grip on the steering wheel, thinking of the words to say. He knew he needed to be delicate, but firm. To the point, but not blunt. ‘This will be the last time’, he says to himself. The last time he thinks of the words to say. The last time he sits in his car contemplating about everything. The last time he has to hurt you. He’ll let you go, let you cry, even let you throw any object in reach to let out your frustrations on him. Just as long as he didn’t have to hurt you anymore. With a shaky breath, he unlocks the car door and steadies himself. He makes his way to house you both shared, hand on the handle as he closes his eyes. It’s time to face the music.

He quietly opens and closes the door behind him, setting his belongings on the dark oak table sat next to the door. He hears you in the kitchen, your feet padding around on the tiled floor. He makes his way there and freezes. You’re slaving away in a large t-shirt and shorts just a bit too big for you. They’re his without a doubt. You hear his shoes clicking against the floor and turn around to face him.

“Welcome home Keiji”

He hated that the gleam in your eyes was gone, and that your lips had to form a smile way too forced. He hated what he had done to you.

“I’m making your favourite, it should be ready in about 10 minutes”

With that, Akaashi loses all composure. He steps forward, his long legs carrying himself towards the stove top, situating himself behind you. He reaches around to turn it off, and moves the pot to the next hotplate. You turn around to question him, only to end up surprised at how close he was. You’re flustered, and he can easily tell how nervous you are at the way your eyes dart at anywhere else but him.

The temperatures rising in your body, and you swear that Akaashi can feel it steaming out of you. He closes the distance quickly, and soon enough your tongues are fighting for dominance against each other. He was in such bliss, it was like your lips were moulded to be with his. In moments like this he could forget. When your touch covered the traces of her. When your taste overwhelmed hers. He wanted you imprinted on him again. But he knew, knew that soon enough, he’d wash it away with his mistress. A continuous cycle of you and her. Disgustingly selfish.

This will be the last time.

The last time he takes your hand. The last time he has the pleasure of kissing you. The last time he undresses you. He takes his time, drinking in your form under the moonlight. Not even the darkness could overshadow your light. He knows you do the same, your eyes focused on him now. You push him forward so he falls back on the plush mattress. Why would he ever think about anyone else? He knew this had to be the last. The last time he’d let his eyes fall over you. He needed to save these moments in his head so he’d never forget.

The last luxury he’d have of you.

So he’d soak it all in, ingrain it forever. He needed to remember it vividly so he could look back. Look back at the idiot he was for ever hurting you in this way. He didn’t deserve you in the slightest. He thought that if he could capture every last detail, it could be the least of his karma. To miss what he took for granted.

How many times had he thought that himself?

And at the end of it all, he’ll just lay there. In the bittersweet afterglow of the love you two had shared. He’ll close his eyes and prepare himself to lose it all. Lose you. You think he’s asleep as he’s so still and his breathing so even. You’ll comb your fingers through his hair, just like you always do, and mumble quietly about your devotion to him.

“I love you, so much Keiji”

You pray he doesn’t hear you, but he does. As clear as day, you whisper confessions of love and admiration for him. He knows he doesn’t deserve it. Not in the slightest, not at all.

But the gentle kiss you place on his lips has him reeling, and his resolve cracks. He can’t do it, because he’s just that selfish. He knows that in the end, it won’t be the last time. He’ll go through it all again. The guilt will eat him alive. The feel of bile on the tip of his tongue no longer phasing him - he’s gotten used to the taste. He’ll break your trust, again and again, and then carelessly attempt to put the pieces back together, just to shatter them more. It’s cruel, he knows this. He wishes you’d just insult him. Cuss him out. Do anything, but show him love over and over. He loves you, he truly does, and he knows how horrific it is to do this to somebody you claim to love. He just wants you to hurt him, tell him what a disgusting asshole he is, how he’s a piece of shit, a waste of space. Any and everything you can think of.

But you don’t.

And while you continue to show him affection, he’ll drown in the abyss of despair that he, himself put him in. Because during these moments he could pretend that you actually loved him. That you didn’t know of his cheating ways. That he wasn’t touching you with the same hands that held someone else.

So tomorrow it’ll all start over, and the cycle will continue. He’ll keep on breaking your heart, and you’ll both pretend to be okay with it. No matter how many times he told himself it would be the last.

He hoped that one day he wouldn’t be such a coward. That he would finally cut the strings that tied you both together and just end it. Akaashi knew it was wrong, but he was just that selfish and hypocritical.

extra: IM SORRY! i know this probably wasn’t the part 2 that was wanted but 🤟😭 i couldn’t help myself! pls give any akaashi merch hugs and kithes 🥺🥺 my friend told me this mad him mad at him (i was going for sad, so im sorry if you get angry 😭) 💕✨ tysm if you read it 💝

[ri-ahhh]

hi can you write about spending a valentine’s day with gray pls?

valentine’s day smut w/ gray? + more haha sorry couldn’t put them all in

A/N: I’m sorry this is a day late. It was supposed to be 90% smut but somehow it took on a mind of its own and turned into this monster.

warnings: smut, extremely cheesy, way too long

***

It should be a given understanding that Valentine’s Day is the dumbest, most antiquated, overrated holiday that’s ever existed. That had always been your take on it, even as a little kid — the worry of spelling your classmates’ names correctly on cards imprinted with cheesy Scooby Doo and Spongebob puns; the expectation to dress up nice in the hopes you would get asked to be someone’s Valentine in the hallways of middle school; the potential embarrassment of being the only person in class who didn’t get bought one of those stupid roses from a ‘secret admirer’ in high school.

There’s simply too much pressure surrounding the idea of professing your love or even your mere fondness for anyone and everyone in your life. The fear of rejection if you do, and the judgement if you don’t. It had always made you anxious, whether you had someone to share the day with or not.

But this Valentine’s Day, as a young twenty-something, you were actually (secretly) looking forward to it. Conner was your first adult relationship, with the title of ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’ and labels and commitment. He’s cute and smart and charming and yours. So, sue you if you were quietly anticipating wearing that SavageXFenty set beneath a brand new dress while you went to dinner after being greeted at the door with roses and a box of chocolates.

And yet here you are, on February 14th, hood of your sweater drawn over your head as you rummage through your freezer with a clear target in your mind. Your eyes are blurry and swollen, but you find the pint of birthday cake Nada Moo with ease, and you slam the freezer door closed a little harder than you really mean to as soon as it’s in your grasp.

You’ve just popped the lid off when your phone buzzes on the kitchen counter where you’ve plopped down to eat your depression snack in a more acceptable place than your bed or the couch.

You see Grayson’s name accompanied by a goofy, up-close picture of him smiling filling the screen, and hesitate. He’s one of your best friends, and clearly done nothing wrong, but you’re not sure you’re capable of handling anyone of the male species right now after...everything.

At the end of the day, though, it’s Grayson. He knows heartbreak almost better than anyone, and you’ve coached him through it on more than one occasion. Maybe he can spew back some of your own advice if it comes to that.

You swipe the bar at the bottom of the screen, and your ceiling suddenly replaces the image of his silly, handsome face. “Sup?”

“Yo. Am I interrupting anything? Sorry, just remembered what day it is.”

You swallow. “Uh no, you’re not.”

“What’s wrong?”

You bite your lip hard, digging your spoon into the softened ice cream. Was it that obvious just from your voice that you had been upset? Or does he just know you that well?

“Nothing.”

“You sound like you’ve been crying.”

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie. Let me see your face.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you concede. “No. I’ve been crying.”

He’s quiet, and you can’t bring yourself to look at his own face in the corner of the screen. You shove the chunk of ice cream past your lips, and after a moment he says with a softer tone, “Crying on Valentine’s Day is never a good sign.”

You’re glad that you’ve gotten so much of your tears out already, because you feel the inevitable prickle behind your eyes that would have been full-blown waterworks a few hours ago. You scoop another bite. “Conner cheated on me — has been, cheating on me. I found out last night.”

Grayson sighs your name, and something about the genuine sympathy in his voice makes you even more emotional. “Fuck. I’m so sorry. What a piece of shit.”

You shrug even though he can’t see, and sniffle past the lump in your throat. “It’s whatever. I’m still in shock more than anything. Hurts like hell, though, still. I let him have it when I saw the texts and he hasn’t tried to call me once. No texts. Nothing.”

He’s silent, but it’s that raging silence you know oh so well from him. It doesn’t happen often, but anyone who knows Grayson Dolan knows that when his volume comes down, he means business. A loud and obnoxious Grayson is a happy one, but a brooding and quiet one means serious business.

“Do you want me to go beat his ass? I’ll do it.”

A smile cracks your scowl before you know it, and you shake your head. “No thanks, Gray. As much as I’d love to see that happen, I like your face the way it is. And not on a mugshot.”

He chuckles a little, and you feel your chest lift some just hearing the familiar depth of it. “Well, do you at least want me to come over later? I totally get if you need to be alone, but I know from experience sometimes what helps the most is having good friends around.”

You’re a little surprised. “You don’t have a date?”

“Nope.”

“No one from the roster hitting you up?”

“I don’t have a roster,” he argues playfully, but you both know that’s a lie, if not at least a stretch of the truth. “And even if I did, you’re more important. Always.”

You sigh and take another bite. His words make your neck tingle and your toes wiggle, but you ignore it; your brain is full of confusion as it is. “That makes one man in my life who thinks so, I guess.”

You finally prop your phone up against the fruit basket sitting in the middle of your bar so he can see you. Grayson takes in your image, which admittedly must look kind of pathetic, and you watch his jaw clench and release in a way that you can’t deny is utterly sexy.

“Is an hour okay? Tell Vanessa to come, too.”

“Benito took her to Tulum for the weekend,” you say, referring to your best friend and her boyfriend. “She did threaten to get on a plane and come home early for me, though.”

Grayson grins crookedly, but his jaw is still tight. “Well, tell her you’re in good hands. See you in an hour?”

You give it one last quick consideration; you already feel this much better just talking to him on the phone. Nothing bad could come from him being in your apartment, and you trust him. “Yeah, that’s fine. But just so you know, I’m already at the stage of eating ice cream at 10:30 AM.”

“Did you forget you’re talking to the emotional ice cream eating champion? No judgement here.”

You finally let out a giggle, your spirits officially lifted. “I’ll see you soon.”

**

True to his word, Grayson arrives at your door about an hour later, his arms laden with milkshakes from Monty’s, a gift bag decorated all over with sparkly hearts, and a gorgeous bouquet of flowers.

You’re stunned. The only thing you’d managed to do in the time it took him to get here was take a quick shower in attempts to rid your face of some of the puffiness, throw on some shorts this time with a fresh hoodie, and toss the used tissues scattered around your place into the garbage.

Before you can say anything, he holds out the flowers. “They were out of roses. But I know you like pink.”

You reach out for them slowly, eyes wide, your fingers brushing his when you grasp the plastic wrapping. His cheeks are a similar color to the petals, and it makes both your heart and your lips smile.

“Peonies are my favorite,” you say truthfully. “And yes, especially pink ones. Thank you, Gray.”

“You’re welcome,” he says, sounding relieved.

As he crosses the threshold of your door, he leans down to kiss your cheek, and you can’t help but hum quietly and pull him in for a hug. “That gift better not be for me, either,” you mumble into his chest.

Grayson pulls back, his eyes sparkling, but keeps you close with an arm wrapped loosely around your shoulders. “Oh, this? No, this is for my other best friend I’m trying to cheer up on Valentine’s Day.”

You slap his arm playfully, and lead him into your kitchen, pulling out a vase from the cabinet beneath your sink for the flowers.

The bag has a few gifts in it: a new Comfy (“I remembered you ruined yours when that ketchup bottle exploded all over you the other day”); a huge bag of watermelon sour patch kids (“I know they’re your favorite. Also ice cream gives you brain freeze after the first pint or so, trust me”); and a heart shaped box of your favorite chocolates (“you can eat them or burn them, I wasn’t sure which you’d appreciate more but either is fine with me.”)

You appreciated all of it, more than he would ever understand. All you can do is fling yourself at him weakly, completely overwhelmed. “Fuck you, you’re gonna make me cry all over again.”

Grayson envelops you in those huge, muscular arms, cooing behind that laugh you love so much. “Is that a really backwards way of saying thank you?”

You grunt in affirmation, and with you still wrapped up in his arms, he starts waddling the two of you back the short distance into your living room.

“Here,” he says, coaxing you down into the blanket nest you had created on the couch. “You chill and find a movie. I’ll make popcorn.”

You do, and he does, and the next few hours are spent lounging about in your apartment. Having him here with you is doing wonders from keeping your mind from going down the paths you’d been spiraling towards ever since you saw the messages between Conner and no less than four other girls on Snapchat. You don’t believe in snooping, but finding the first one had been an accident when he received the snap while you had his phone, and your finger happened to press the icon at just the right moment. 

In your eyes, though, the image of one pair of tits that weren’t your own was enough justification to see what else you could find. 

“I hate to admit it, but I’m kind of relieved,” you told Grayson a while later, Shrek playing on the TV quietly. He’s sitting next to you, far enough apart for there to be couch space between the two of you, but close enough to share the oversized blanket thrown over your laps. “Obviously what he did is so fucking shitty and I’m not justifying it in any way, but I can be honest with myself now and realize I wasn’t in that relationship for the right reasons. There wasn’t anything there emotionally at the end of the day.”

“You still have every right to feel hurt by what he did, though. It’s a huge violation of trust,” Grayson assures, reaching out and squeezing your hand gently.  

You squeeze back and grimace at him. “Yeah.” You let out a little mirthless laugh and shake your head, heat flooding your cheeks. “It’s so embarrassing, too. And finding out the day before Valentine’s, no less. Like, I just wanted to look cute, have a nice dinner, have some nice sex, and just... I don’t know. Have an actual Valentine’s day for once. No pressure or anxiety or anything.”

Grayson stares at you in that way he does — so intense and almost intimidating if there wasn’t a genuine warmth behind it. You’re suddenly aware of his thumb brushing the back of your hand slowly. He squeezes your fingers again. 

“So, let’s do it, then. You and me.”

You arch a brow at him, smiling at the rosiness in his cheeks when he realizes what he might have implied. “The dinner part, I mean. And the dressing up. Even though I think you look plenty cute right now.”

You roll your eyes, but for the countless time that day, your heart flutters happily. Looking back, you can’t remember the last time Conner had complimented your appearance, let alone after hours of crying and lazing around in sweats, sugar crystals stuck to the corner of your lip. 

“That would be great, except there’s no way we’re getting into any restaurant at this point,” you remind him. “Probably no delivery, either.”

“I’ll cook for you,” he counters, throwing the blanket off his legs and standing up with a groan. He stops to stretch, and the way his arms go over his head makes his shirt ride up at the bottom, exposing a chunk of hard muscles and golden skin. 

You swallow, eyes trailing up the rest of his torso appreciatively. “I don’t have much.”

He’s already rummaging through your pantry, though, and pulls out a half-full box of pasta, a jar of marinara sauce, and a leftover chunk of sourdough bread. “You got salad stuff?”

You nod, and he opens the fridge to find some lettuce, peppers, and other salad fixings before setting them with the pasta ingredients on the counter. “Go get dressed, look as cute or not cute as you want. I’ll take care of this.”

He’s absolutely unreal. “Gray-”

Grayson holds up his hand. “Ah, no, I’m doing this. You deserve it. Also, I’m hungry. It’s a win-win.”

Your stomach growls as well, and that’s all the convincing you need. While he gets busy in the kitchen, you tidy up the living area some before heading to your room. You feel a little silly, making your third outfit change of the day, but you also like the giddiness in the pit of your belly at the thought of Grayson doing all of this for you. You might as well take advantage of having someone like him in your life. Show him some Valentine’s appreciation of your own.

You forgo the slinky red number you had planned to wear to the restaurant with Conner, and opt instead for a rather unsuspecting blouse-jeans combo, which happen to both respectively frame your tits and ass perfectly.

The lacy, bright pink set in the back of your closet might have made it beneath your clothes, though. The prettiness of it made you feel that much better, even if no one else was going to see it.

Maybe.

Padding back into your kitchen after running a flat iron through your hair and throwing on some concealer, mascara, and lip gloss, you find Grayson draining the pasta into a colander in the sink. 

Grayson does a double-take when he sees you standing there admiring the flex of his bicep as he holds the pot. “Hey! You look amazing.”

“If you say so,” you joke, bumping his hip with yours as. You pass him to pull plates and bowls out of the cabinet.

“I do,” he insists quietly.

Arm outstretched mid-reach, you look over at him, locking eyes with his hazel ones. He looks a little surprised by the words that left his mouth, like he meant for them to stay inside his head. There must be some kind of challenge in your gaze, daring him to elaborate.

He busies himself with the pasta again hastily, his voice low. “Conner is a fucking idiot. To do that to you. To let you go. You don’t deserve that. Especially not today.”

Plates in hand, you rest them gently on the counter with your lower lip caught between your teeth, and peer over at this handsome man you’re so proud and lucky to call your best friend. He’s everything you thought Conner was — cute and smart and charming — but so much more — beautiful and good and kind.

And he’s been right here in front of you the whole time.

You reach out and touch his elbow softly. The hairs on his forearm are crisp but soft, and you follow them down to that gleaming watch on his wrist.

“You know,” you start quietly, fingers tracing the links of the band before flipping his hand over to trace the lines of his palm, “you keep talking about what I deserve today. But you deserve all that and more. You deserve someone’s love that matches your own.”

He watches your delicate fingers on his large, calloused palm, then trails his eyes up to yours when he feels their attention on his face. A piece of hair flops into his eyes, and you reach up without thinking or any hesitation to push it away again with a little smile playing on your glossy lips.

You look down and lay your palm flat against his, admiring the difference in size between your hands for a moment before interlocking your fingers with his.

“I love you.”

Your eyes flit up to his in surprise; he beat you to the words.

“In case that wasn’t obvious,” Grayson continues, turning towards you. “And I hope that’s not too much for you to handle, with everything you’ve had hap-”

“I love you too, Gray,” you interrupt, stepping that much closer to him so you’re nearly chest-to-chest with him.

“Yeah?” He sounds almost boyish in his astonishment, and it makes you want to hold him tight and never let go.

“Yeah,” you giggle. “A lot. I’m sorry it took me getting dumped to realize it.”

He shakes his head, his hand resting on your cheek gently. “Can I kiss you?”

You nod once before he’s swiftly ducking down to claim your lips with his. They’re soft and pliable, and you feel their effects from the nerves in your scalp all the way down to your bare toes.

“Grayson,” you breathe, lashes fluttering open as he pulls back just enough to look at you concernedly.

You smile, bigger and brighter than you have all day, and cup his stubbled cheeks with your hands, scratching your nails gently against his jaw. “I just wanted to say your name.”

Grayson grins now, too. He kisses you more insistently now that he’s got the taste of you on his tongue, which he flicks against the underside of your top lip as he breaks the kiss. “Say it again.”

“Make me,” you challenege, voice breathy and excited, eyes closed as you savor his sweet breath against your lips. “In my room.” You feel him tense up a bit, and you open your eyes to meet his questioning gaze, biting back a smile at the inevitable hope also shining there. “I’m sure.”

With that, Grayson hauls you up into his arms, and you wrap your legs around his waist with a squeal as he buries his face into your neck. He starts making the way to your bedroom, cooked food left long forgotten in the kitchen behind you.

“Are you wearing my signature scent?” he asks, inhaling your skin deeply.

“Mmhm,” you hum, threading your fingers through the back of his thick hair. It’s so long again, and you give the dark strands a sharp tug that makes him grunt. “Part one of my gift to you. Since you got so many for me today.”

“Part one, huh?” he says, crossing the threshold of your room. “What’s part two?”

“What I’m wearing underneath this,” you whisper in his ear, giggling loudly when he lies you down on the bed with more of a toss than he might have intended. “If you want it, that is.”

He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind at the mere suggestion that he wouldn’t, and you take that as enough encouragement to tug at the bow tying your forest green silk wrap blouse together.

The folds part open and expose your chest, clad in that pink lace demi-cup bra with the cage detailing over the tops of your breasts. Grayson moans and dips down to nuzzle your cleavage, breathing in the scent of your warm skin. His hands trail up your sides, from your hips to your rib cage, until they settle in the dips of your waist. His touch ignites you, makes your back arch and your hips grind up against his thigh between your legs, just from the sensation of his hands on these new parts of your body.

“Grayson,” you sigh, and he smirks up at you with his chin on your tits when he realizes that’s all it took for you to say his name again.

You grab his cheeks and kiss that smugness away, shifting your legs so they’re wrapped around his waist once again, pushing down on the small of his back to get your centers to meet.

Both of you gasp into each other’s mouths when his erection rubs against your pussy, even through all the layers of clothing still on your bodies. You reach down blindly, still attacking his mouth with yours, and feel around for his belt.

His pants come off, followed by yours, and he sits you up enough to push your blouse off your shoulders rather gently considering the intensity of everything. Once the garment is tossed over his shoulder, you’re down to nothing but that pretty lingerie and he in his boxer briefs.

There’s a moment of pause and clarity for the two of you, staring into one another’s eyes as the reality hits of what you’re about to do. What it means to both of you. Grayson stares down at you, and places a hand over your rapidly thumping heart.

“Beautiful,” he says quietly, dragging his hand up your chest, over your throat, until he’s cupping you’re cheek and stroking your lip with his thumb.

You smile in return, then part your lips with your eyes locked on his, encouraging him silently to slip that digit in your mouth.

Grayson’s eyes darken, and he offers you his pointer finger instead, swallowing hard when you suck and swirl your soft, wet tongue around it.

Suddenly, he’s rolling the two of you over, switching positions so he’s on his back and you straddle him. You smile happily, taking your turn to duck down and attach your lips to the pulse point his neck, grinding down on his cock with a slow, steady rhythm.

“You’re so amazing, Gray,” you tell him, nipping at the lobe of his ear before kissing the underside of his chin. “Can’t believe you’re all mine now.”

“Can’t believe you’re mine,” he growls back, cursing when you trail your kisses down the center of his body, giving each one of those moon’s their own special attention before continuing down.

When you get to the waistband of his underwear, you trail your tongue on the edge of the elastic and watch his abs contract with each shaky breath he takes. One little move of your hands, and you’ll finally get to see what he’s really packing.

But before you can even hook your fingers there to pull down, he’s tugging on your hair. “Fuck, fuck, c’mere. Please.”

You pout, but follow his lead, licking back up his muscular torso until he’s able to drag you to him for a deep, wet kiss.

“Sit on my face,” he demands, shuffling down on the pillow to make more room for you.

That takes you off guard. “But—”

“Do it. Please. I fucking have to taste you.”

Your body must be working ahead of your brain, because before you know it, you’re straddling Grayson’s face, his tongue is sweeping through the wetness in your slit, and his dark eyes are peering up at you from between your thighs.

“Oh... oh!” you cry out when his tongue starts flicking against your clit. He goes back to swiping up all your arousal, then suctions his lips around your clit. He’s using one hand to hold the lace of your thong aside, and the other dips first one finger, then two inside of you. “Oh, fuck, that’s so good...”

Grayson moans, the vibrations erupting around your clit and sending you right to the edge already. You reach back and palm his cock, rock hard in his underwear still, and squeeze as he makes you cum all over his mouth.

He gets his fill of your cum as he groans and keeps up the motion of his fingers, the pressure of his lips, the softness of his tongue as your pussy pulses with each contraction of your orgasm. You wait for him to start letting up, but something about the way he’s working you just makes those waves stay steady rather than die down again. Maybe that’s his intention, because when you drop your head down to look at him with your mouth wet and agape, there’s a sparkling mischief in his eyes has he eats you out like his last meal.

Your hips grind against his face of their own accord, and you delve one hand in his hair while the other supports you on the headboard. You gasp out a quivering, breathless laugh as it all becomes just too much, and you try to lift off his mouth.

Grayson isn’t having it, though. He wraps his arms around your thighs and holds you down, reveling in the moans and whimpers and squeals as he makes you cum again.

“Oh my god — enough, enough, I can’t...” you whine, shoving on his forehead until he releases you and drops his head to the pillow. You could already see it by the crinkles in the corners of his eyes, but he’s smirking wide, chest heaving as you slink your way down his body.

You collapse next to him in a daze, and he rolls on top of you smoothly, peppering little kisses to your cheeks, your jaw, your nose. When you’re back in your right mind, you nudge blindly at his face so his lips find yours. He tastes like your pussy, and you sigh happily as you lift your heavy arms to wrap around his neck while his scoop beneath you, holding you close.

You continue to indulge in each other for a while, in the kisses you hadn’t been allowed to share until now. There’s something exciting about his familiarity and yet also this strange newness that has you absolutely desperate for him in every way.

“This is crazy,” you say when you pull back for air, studying his face hovering right above yours. You push back that stubborn chunk of hair that keeps falling into his eyes with a soft smile. “How did we end up here?”

Grayson turns his head to press his lips to your palm. “I don’t know. Is it too much? Should we stop?”

You shake your head vehemently, and he grins. “No, please. I think I just have to grasp that you’re really... mine now.”

He chuckles. “How do you think I felt watching you with that loser for five months?”

The mention of Conner makes you feel nothing — nothing other than gratitude for Grayson, that is. You slide your hands down his back, over his ribs, across his abs until your hand cups his dick.

His hips thrust into your touch, and you grin up at him demurely as you finally delve your hand past his waistband until you’ve got his length completely in your grasp.

He’s hot and hard and thick, and you start stroking him just to gauge the reaction in his face. He doesn’t disappoint, his jaw gaping open slightly, his breaths picking up, a flush rising to the apples of his cheeks.

Without warning, he reaches down and grasps your wrist. You pout, but he asks hastily. “Are we gonna have sex?”

You smirk. “Hell yeah.”

Grayson grins and shakes his head. “Alright, then you gotta stop.”

“Already?” you tease, letting him sit back and hook his fingers in the tiny string of your thong at your hips.

He gives you a look as he pulls the scrap of lace down your legs, then stands to push down his own underwear. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, and you wish he’d let you blow him some before you hit the main event, but he says, “I’ve wanted you for too long to take any chances about screwing up the first time.”

You melt a little, reaching for him as he climbs back on the bed. “There should be some condoms in the drawer there. Just to be safe after... you know.”

He nods and dips down to kiss you before leaning over to riffle through the top drawer of your nightstand. He comes back with a purple square, which you take from him.

“Gotta practice an activity safely,” you wink, tearing open the condom and rolling it down his shaft quickly.

“Shut up.” Grayson rolls his eyes, but smiles softly as he settles between your legs just right. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you whisper, gasping as he starts to sink inside you.

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpers as your walls suck him in and grip him tight.

He goes slow for a couple of minutes, allowing both of you time to adjust to each other. He stretches you out so much better than anyone you’ve ever been with, and you can’t help but clench around him when you see those tattoos and smell his cologne and hear his voice — all things that remind you that this is Grayson fucking you.

He growls the first time you do it, then sits up hastily, pulling his face out of your neck when you do it again. He tucks his knees beneath him, sits on his heels, and hauls your hips into his lap as the speed of his thrusts picks up incrementally. Until he’s fucking you for real, and your tits bounce in your bra with every upstroke.

You shove an arm beneath your pillow, enunciating the curves of your body, and watch his expressions as he fights to hold back. His hair is disheveled, lip caught tight between his teeth and muffling his deep, satisfied sounds that mingle with your open higher-pitched ones. He catches your eye and his hands on your hips grip you so tight for a moment that you’re sure little bruises will be there in the morning — not that you mind.

“Fuck,” he whispers harshly before slowing his hips and shifting down to give you a deep, sloppy kiss. “Turn over.”

You moan into his mouth, then follow his order, rolling onto your front as soon as he pulls out. You expect him to haul your hips up into the air, but he moves your hair off your neck and trails sweet kisses from shoulder to shoulder, his hand sweeping down the subtle curve of your back until he’s gripping your ass.

Grayson’s hand moves down your thigh and pushes it up and out once he’s cupping the back of your knee. The angle encourages you to twist your upper half until you have sight of him once again in all his angled, sweaty, muscular glory.

“Fuck me, baby,” you beg him, already anticipating the fullness inside you again. Needing it.

“Want me to fuck you?” he asks needlessly, pushing into your pussy once again. You moan loudly, either in confirmation or from pure pleasure, it doesn’t matter. The angle is tighter, the tip of his dick hitting a spot so perfectly accurate inside of you that you can’t concentrate on anything other than how good he’s making you feel. “Yeah. So fucking sexy. So beautiful...”

“Gray.. oh fuck yes, right there,” you whimper, catching onto his arm as he leans over you and gives you those hard, steady strokes.

“Open your eyes, baby, lemme see them when you cum,” he growls out.

You open them as much as you can, your vision blurry, but you can still make out those handsome features soaking in the pleasure on your face. Watching and waiting for you to get yours so he can get his.

As soon as you’re clenching like a vice around him, Grayson is letting go into the condom. You can vaguely feel the throb of him as he cums in spurts, the sound of his masculine, drawn-out groans making you shiver and tense up even more on his dick. If it’s possible for anyone to sound as sexy as they look, Grayson achieves that in spades.

He collapses on the bed next to you, and you have just enough strength to roll over until he’s got you gathered in his arms. You nuzzle into his chest and try to process everything. You had been hoping for nice sex today, and instead you got the best sex of your life.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence while you both catch your breath, after he pulls and ties off the condom, you smile into his cooling skin with a satisfied sigh.

“Thank you for making this the best Valentine’s Day of my life. Especially after it was starting to look like the worst.”

“You made this the best day of my life, period,” he says, kissing your forehead. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Gray.”

[collecting-stories]

Comfort - JJ Maybank

Request: hi!! i love your fanfic about obx and i was wondering if you could write something where the reader is struggling with her body image/self-confidence and the pogues don't know but JJ, her bf, somehow finds out and comforts her? i haven't been feeling very confident lately and i feel like this would help idk why. thank you <33 - @teaheeee

A/N: This was a tough one but here it is.

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

“I’ll be like five seconds.” JJ swore, running up the stairs to your room where he’d left his wallet.  

“JJ come on.” You groaned, falling back onto the couch. This was at least the fifth time he’d stalled the two of you from leaving the house. You were supposed to be meeting everyone at the beach and you hated being late.  

“Hold on!” He shouted. He had dropped his wallet under the bed earlier and almost left without it when the two of you were leaving. While you waited downstairs, he grabbed the wallet, pausing when he noticed the ripped picture on the floor. Shredded by hand into pieces was your school picture, the one you’d just gotten last week.  

JJ picked up the pieces, sifting through them for a moment until you called him again, reminding him that the task at hand was getting his wallet so you could get to the Wreck. He didn’t want to bring down the evening and he wasn’t sure what to say so he said nothing when he came down, only holding up his wallet to show you that he found it.

It was entirely possible that he was reading too much into things. That you had really just hated your senior portrait and thought it was awful. There was nothing wrong with that, school pictures were always cheesy. But ripping your picture to shreds wasn’t an isolated incident, not in his mind at least. You’d been avoiding any type of jean or tight all week. He was honestly surprised today to find you wearing a nice dress though he supposed that it was for everyone else’s benefit because you kept holding the hem like it was going to billow up.  

You were fine at lunch. It was JJ that caught Kiara’s attention, seemingly more distant than she remembered seeing him before, she leaned over at one point to ask if everything was okay at home.

“What do you mean?” He asked, gaze straying to you as you pushed at the food on your plate.  

“Are you okay? You seem really distracted.” She replied, keeping her voice down so no one else noticed.  

JJ shook his head, “fine.” He didn’t want to tell Kiara that he was worried about you. If you hadn’t said anything to her, and you clearly hadn’t because she seemed oblivious to your behavior, then he didn’t want to draw attention to you.  

It wasn’t any one thing. You couldn’t pinpoint the moment or the day, it wasn’t that you stepped on a scale and gained a few pounds. It wasn’t that your jeans felt a little too tight around the hips. Though now that you thought of it, you were feeling kind bloated lately. But it wasn’t just that. It was the sudden breakout of acne near your jawline and the way you felt like you just couldn’t quite ‘pull off’ the clothes you were wearing. It was the feeling of something being wrong but not being able to pinpoint it. That unsettling, unnerving feeling of looking in the mirror and knowing that it was all wrong. That you were all wrong. Your hair looked dull and lifeless, your skin was puffy and it didn’t glow the way the serum you bought said it would. You could name something from head to toe, there was list, sprawling inside your head of all the things that were wrong. Your posture, your nose, your waist, your legs, your eyes...everything had something wrong.

JJ waited until you were back at your house, sprawled out on the couch with you while you watched some rerun of a stupid show. Never good at confrontation that wasn’t with someone he didn’t like, JJ jumped right in, “Are you okay?”

It was a simple enough question. You could just say yes and he could be satistfied and everything could go back to normal. You could hope that you would eventually shake the awful feelings and be okay. Or you could tell him that you were just tired or just not feeling well or just whatever. It didn’t matter what you said, there were a million excuses and all you had to do was choose one.  

But that was easier said than done and you found yourself floundering for a moment, trying to think of the most believeable way to say that you were fine and he didn’t have to worry. He had enougn on his plate, he didn’t have to be bothered with you too.  

“Yeah.” You replied, voice a little shakier than you meant it to be and you grimaced slightly at your own voice.  

“Are you sure?”

If he was asking the question than it meant that he probably knew the answer.  

“Yeah, fine, good.” You nodded.  

“I saw you ripped up your picture.” He admitted.  

“I can explain-”

He nodded, “you know you’re awesome?” He asked, as if he was expecting some sort of response from you.  

“Sometimes,” you shrugged, “I don’t know...I just feel like...it’s not worth it. Like I just want to stay in bed and under my covers because then no one has to look at me.”

“Well I like looking at you so I can’t say I’m a fan of that idea,” JJ replied, smiling when bit your bottom lip, “although if the bed’s big enough than that’s fine, we can hide together.”  

“JJ,” you sat up more and so did he, “I’m being serious!”

“So am I,” JJ replied, “you think I’d hesitate to do anything you needed me too? You don’t have to believe me but that doesn’t mean I won’t remind you ever day how incredible you are.”

“You’re such a sap,” you tried to play off his words as if it didn’t make your heart race to hear him say those things to you.  

“Eh,” he shrugged, pulling you against him and kissing the side of your head, “worth it. Now, you wanna tell me what’s the matter, really?”

“I told you.”

“More than that.” He stressed.  

“I just feel gross I guess. I don’t know, it’s not any one thing it’s just like, every little thing that I see that I don’t like. It’s so easy to just...look at myself and see all the ways that I’m falling short. All the things I wish I could change about myself.”

“I don’t know how helpful it is to say it but, I wouldn’t change anything about you.” JJ admitted. “You’re my best friend, I mean...” he shrugged, almost as if he wasn’t entirely sure how to end that sentence. JJ wasn’t the best with words, he had always had trouble getting his thoughts. He could name every single thing that he loved about you, and the list was extensive, but saying the words felt like his throat was closing up on him.

It didn’t really matter though, you knew what he meant. The soft look and the kiss on your forehead that had you closing your eyes when his lips touched your skin. He wasn’t used to comforting, hadn’t ever had any example of it in his own life, but he was good at it. He was good at letting you know it would be alright. Even if he didn’t say it outright.  

-

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[shortyisweird9]

'Lonely ghost serie'

Chek and heartache- part III

Tw⚠️:swearing, referring of dark themes such as suicide attempt and mental illness.

The morning rays hit your eyes gently, tangible by their warmth,as you forced yourself from another dream of nothing but blank.

You groaned as your cat,Didi, comes running towards you: purring, meowing and chirping in pure happiness. You knew the reason she does this; your previous cat, Martha or Dildo- your roommate Sergiu called her that because of her dickish attitude with him- used to do this everytime so the little one, Didi, just followed her mother's lead.

Everytime she does that is like a small needle stabs at your heart especially when just 2 weeks passed since Martha died of old age- the black cat was adopted when she was senior, abused and malnourished, your heart knew you couldn't leave her to be laid to rest like a nothing. You adopted her, she bit you and you petted her, she hissed you hugged her, you did everything you could think of to show love even brush her fur with a wet toothbrush end to mimic sweet kisses coming from her mom. The cat soon realized that and started living again. Cautious of your other 3 roommates, cuddly with you.

Anyway, you got sidetracked with reminiscing. You heard your friends in the kitchen, Sabrina throwing away the take out boxes and Sergiu preparing some tea, probably to calm his stomach after all the spicy curry he ate last night.

You fixed the oversized white t-shirt and pull the marine blue shorts out of your bottoms, Didi already waiting you by the door.

You all, Sabrina,Sergiu,Ace and you, live in a quaint apartment, turned from campus housing, right next to one of the malls of the city. It had two small bathrooms, a living room , three petite bedrooms ,a tiny kitchen, a rounded balcony and a hallway. It was much smaller than your family home but it was in a central zone where your family home was outside the city's boundaries. You chose it not only because you wanted to spare your family from driving you to university but also because you needed your freedom, your space. Your parents were very understanding of that.

-Y/n e trează? ( "Is Y/n awake?") Ace asked as he sipped on his black cofee.

Without, he would pretty much be a grumpy hedgehog with spiky tealish mohawk. And who wouldn't love that?

-Nu încă, ah! Uite-o! ("Not yet,ah! There she is") Sabrina exclaimed, getting up to hug you and leaving the smoking tea cup by the window.

"Hello." You said ,voice grungy and eyes shut from the light.

You felt the warm hands of your Arabic friend on your face filled with moles and couple of marks from recently popped pimples, you let yourself be engrossed into it ,the touch starvation you carry like a cross chosing for you.

You hear her laugh, she always had a pretty laugh and a prettier smile . She was the beauty of the group, with big puffy sand yellow curls, brown skin with red undertones and black eyes who glow in pure happiness. She was stunning and a sweetheart with an obsession on the colour red and butterflies.

"Someone is needy." Ace teased.

"Shut up or I will staple those hair triangles on your scalp. "

You wanted to say something better but Sabrina then started massaging your lower face in a circular manner with her thumb. You knew you couldn't do anything anymore except melt.

-Anyway ,unde e Sergiu? ("Anyway, where is Sergiu?")

-Ți-o făcut ceai, cane e pervaz. S-o dus până sus să o ajute pe Florentina.("He made you tea, the cup is on the windowsill. He went upstairs to help Florentina.") He said, taking another sip of his cup.

-Ooooh, Florentina. You two began as Ace shook his head in amusement.

You and Sabrina were known to be ruthless in your teasing of the guitarist with long brown locks and beard.

Florentina was a crush of his, a freshman in the University of Arts who played the violin beautifully. Small,with olive skin, long red hair keept in a 1960s hairstyle and green petite with a triangular shaped face. She was a sweetie with a love for fantasy book ,autumn and ferrets.

-Oh, yeah?

-Dup, iubitul ei se mută cu ea. ("Yup, her boyfriend moves in with her")

-Oh.

Ace sucked in his lip ,his face filled with disappointment just like theirs now.

-That sucks.

-Numai spune,Sabrina.("You don't say,Sabrina")

Just then, the door clicked shut. Sergiu is back, this will be awkward.

-Ce vă uitați așa la mine?("Why are you looking at me like that?")

Neither of them could properly looked into the warm brown eyes of the man whose glow seemed to fade a bit, Sergiu was a stubborn man who shut his feelings deep inside, only through his song you could tell he was suffering. Just like you, I suppose.

-Am auzit...("We heard...")

You bit your lips as your long fingers played with each other, twisting and tugging while your nerves grew. Last thing you wanted was another fight where you all force the man to open up. He had suicidal tendencies, sometimes he came too close to actually do it but you were there and you needed to be there now too, even if he doesn't like being taking care of.

Sergiu rolled his eyes at you, his heart hurt from how rigid your posture was, eyes were worried about him but also scared, teeth grinding themselves not out of anger but out of care and fear.

He knew you hated arguments and shouts with dying passion. You always cried when someone raised their voice in less than friendly manner, you hated this reaction of complete terror, you hated looking weak but now you hated letting your friend burn himself because of an unfortunate love triangle. So you swallowed your nerves and braved on, it's about him ,not you.

Sergiu wanted to protect you all from this negativity, especially you and Ace. You had a big event to organise , Ace's sex reassignment surgery is coming up soon. You both have your own problems to dwell ,you didn't need to have him as one too.

However somewhere in his head, a voice telling him that he was wrong ,that voice that took the shape of you in the night of July.

You were crying, your grey hoodie wet from the rain as you cling desperately to him, not daring to move.

He was the reason why you crying, why you yelled profanities our of worry for what he was about to do. He...He tried to throw himself off a bridge ,the same bridge you two first shared your kiss.

That dark episode still irked your minds in the darker moments, late in the night nothing but your mind to keep you company and that's torture in itself.

You thought you could help him, change whatever hurts him and make it go away. That was your biggest mistake, you can't change a person that's not your duty , your duty was to support them through tough times and help them see the light at the end of the dark tunnel. A duty you solemnly swore to uphold even if he didn't liked you to. There's no fucking way you let him do that again,not if you can be there for him. Like he was always there for you, your big guardian with a guitar that spews flames in shape of songs.

-Y/n..

-Te rog, Sergiu. Nu ascunde. ("Please, Sergiu. Don't hide.")

Your eyes were desperate for him to talk it out in any shape or form. They implore for him to vent, to not hid between fake lies like " I am okay" or "I'm fine."

-Bine,bine. Tu ești șefa. ("Fine,fine. You're the boss.")

————————————————————

They talked and talked and cried and laughed and cried again. A never ending circle of venting ,small earthquakes which instead of fracturing the friendship , it onlyakes it stronger as it should.

-Te simți mai bine?("You feeling better?") Your voice ran timidly on the top of your apartment building, watching over the brutalist styled architecture.

-Un pic, doare știi dar asta îmi arată cât de îndrăgostit sunt de ea. Iubirea adevărată pentru mine nu se referă doar la a iubi doar dacă te iubește reciproc, nu , să iubești fără să forțezi persoană să te iubească înapoi. Să îi porți de grijă, să o protejezi, să o ajuți fără să fi un egoist, fără să te aștepți să fi iubit înapoi. ("A little, it hurts you know but this shows how much I love her. True love for me doesn't mean to love just so they will love you back, no, to love someone without forcing them to love you back. To care for them, to protect them, to help them without being an egotistic, to love without expecting to be loved back.")

-Poetic.

He laughed at that , starring at the setting sun ,his lit cigar forgotten fumed between his painted fingers. His hair blown gently by the wind , he looked like a masterpiece.

-Scuze..pentru tot.("Sorry...for everything. ")

-N-ai de ce. Mi-ai făcut chec până la urmă așa că balanța eternă este restabilită.("You don't have a reason to be. You made me chek in the end and thus the eternal balance is restored.") You joked, munching quietly on the piece of cake, his jacket keeping you warm.

-Haha. Cine ar fi crezut că checul are fi o gustare bună când îți dai vent.("Haha. Who would have thought that chek will be a good snack when you vent.")

Indeed, who would have thought of that but one who cried in the sore days filled with heart ache.

————————————————————

Hey,guys!💖

Hope you like the third part of the serie, I wanted to focus on "your life" and your friends backgrounds this time. The translations are not 100% word to word but enought to give you context.

Anyway, I hope you like it. Stay safe!

Tagged 💗💗:@moolujk @gaysludge @simonsbluee @yoyoanaria @cherry-piee @magenta-skyline @yikesyikesyikes95

[magioftheseas]

Ryouko Otonashi Ficlets #6

For @ryokosmemoryweek

Day 6: Dissociation // Recovering Memories

Under readmore because I feel like it’ll be awkward otherwise. No warnings needed.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

There was nothing. There is nothing. Everything is nothing. Everything will always be nothing.

--

Watching Matsuda-kun tense up. Watching Matsuda-kun slowly turn to me. Watching him open and close his precious, perfectly-shaped and chapped to all hell mouth. God, he’s so fucking adorable that it makes me want to tear him apart.

Especially, especially, especially when his expression smooths over. When he glares—oh!

“So,” he snarled. “They let even gorillas like you into this school, huh?”

I can’t help but tremble. It takes only a second before I break, throwing my arms around him.

“Puhuhuhu! It’s so, so, so good to see you!!”

--

No. Matsuda-kun was someone I wanted to protect. He was the only one I cared about.

--

I didn’t give a flying fuck about the fat pig picking at her damn gloves as she fretted behind me. Not when I had Matsuda-kun to bury my face in and inhale.

“And you are?” Matsuda snapped. “I don’t think she’s mentioned you before.”

I don’t fucking care—but I can feel her flinch, and that... Now that’s not half-bad...

--

No...

--

“What are you planning?” he demands, so brilliantly angry. “What the fuck were you even thinking—going into his room���!”

God, Matsuda-kun really is a smart cookie. But he’s also so willfully dense that I can’t help but give him a pitying smile.

“What do you think I’m planning?” I ask back, high-pitched and cute. Matsuda-kun doesn’t seem the slightest bit endeared. How despairing.

“The guy that went missing...” Matsuda-kun is going on. “Did you fucking murder him? Seriously? Just to get to the project?”

“Project, project, project,” I hum, tapping my chin thoughtfully. “You were referring to it as a person just before, Matsuda-kun.”

“Don’t change the subject,” he snarled, cheeks flaring. God, he’s so cute. So fucking cute. I want to pop him by digging my nails into those cute puffy-wuffy cheeks. “You crossed a fucking line. I can’t—I can’t help you if you target the project.”

“You’ll help me,” I told him sweetly. “You love me, after all.”

“Please.” He just begs. Pathetic. Simpering. “Please, stop this. Whatever it is... I can’t...”

At that moment, I feel nothing short of contempt.

--

No!!

--

“You won’t remember a thing,” Matsuda-kun is saying, and he’s cracking all over. Laughter and sobs. Despair and hope. Horror and relief. “And it’ll be so much better that way, Ryouko. I’m never going to turn you back.”

--

It would’ve been better, wouldn’t it?! If I just didn’t remember, if I just didn’t know! If I never remembered what I knew or never knew in the first place—

From the start, I’ve been—

I wasn’t—

I just...

I-I just wanted to be with the person I knew and loved... How am I supposed to go on without him?

Someone like me someone like me someone like me someone like me someone like me...

I don’t even remember what he looks like anymore...

I won’t get to see him again... Unless...

Aha. Haha. Hahahahahahaha!! This feeling...!

It’s not despair. It’s deeper than that.

It’s not hope either. It’s more passionate than that.

What feeling is it? I’m too far, far away to tell you.

[mysticm3ss]

what comes next | zen oneshot

i’m not even gonna try and pretend this is a reader insert, i didn’t even switch out my name haha. this is just a recount of how i felt in the emergency ward, and what might have happened if i hadn’t had to answer ‘no’ when the nurses asked if there was anyone they should call. writing this was purely theraputic, but if it can help anyone else, then maybe it was all worth it.

if suicide, hospitals, needles etc are triggering to you, don’t read this.

word count: 2k

_____

Everything happened so fast.

The muscles in my legs twitched as they pulled back my hospital gown, a pastel violet that was too happy for the solemn concentration on the nurse’s face. He pressed stickers over my breasts in short, sharp actions, and had I been free of my medicated haze, I’d have been embarrassed. As it was, his urgency only confused me.

“Does this work like a brain scan?” An EEG. I meant an EEG. Like I’d learned about in my psychology class the past semester. It felt simultaneously so distant and so close. 

How ironic that a psychology student ended up here.

“Kind of.” His words were dismissive, and wires weighed down my chest as he plugged me into the machine. I admired his earrings. 

“Stay very still.”

I did. 

This wasn’t a big deal; why were they making such a fuss?

Someone murmured about pulse abnormalities and serotonin syndrome while the other nurse, or maybe she was a social worker, turned to look at me. The badge on her shirt labelled her as Nico. She asked me to tell her what happened, why I was here.

I shook my head.

Did it have to be right now? It was so loud. People were prodding at my muscles and hitting my knees. I couldn’t think.

“In a little bit?” she compromised.

I nodded. “In a little bit.”

Nico smiled, but there was an emotion behind her eyes that I couldn’t place. It sung of sadness.

“We need blood.” I thought his name was Mario, but I couldn’t be sure. Even with my shirt off, and my history with men, I felt safe around him.

Something about those earrings.

I tried to focus on his voice as the needle lodged into my arm, but my breathing came in sharp gasps, and I felt dizzy, even though my eyes were squeezed shut.

“Breathe, honey. You’re okay.”

His voice was soothing, but my head was spinning, my mind fraught with pins and needles. I couldn’t see, I couldn’t breathe. My legs jolted. My palms were sweaty.

“Deep breaths.”

I tried to focus on his voice, but it disappeared too soon. I couldn’t breathe. It felt like I’d never breathe again. 

If only.

“Is there someone you need us to call?” A woman’s voice, a lilting Irish melody that sounded like home. His name comes without thinking, and with it, an onslaught of tears.

“Hyun.”

I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d even come.

The doctors left with empty promises of returning, and suddenly, I was alone.

There were people everywhere, voices echoing into every corner of the room. There was a man in handcuffs slumped in a chair, a swearing sixteen-year-old girl who had to work at eight am the next morning. The air was abuzz with the beeping of monitors and the footsteps of overworked nurses. 

I’d never felt more isolated.

The sheets were falling down the head of my bed, and the thin blanket draped over my calves was far from warm, but somehow, despite everything, I slept.

When I awoke, there was an angel at my bedside.

The skin around his eyes was puffy and as red as his irises; his face was pale, teeth worrying his lower lip until it bled. His hand gripped mine tightly, and I sluggishly blinked until the blurriness cleared.

“Z-Zenny?”

His eyes shot to mine instantly, and I’d never seen him look so desperate.

“Leah.”

It was a sigh of relief, yet none of the tension drained from his shoulders. His back was stiff, his jaw tight. My stomach tightened with an uncomfortable mix of guilt and nausea.

“You came.”

“Of course I did.” Zen’s voice was thick, the words clogging in his throat.

“But— you had to work tonight, didn’t you? What about the show?”

Zen swallowed, eyes closing as he shook his head and chuckled humourlessly. “The show can wait. It’s not important right now.”

I threaded my shaky fingers with his. Hyun’s grip was warm, familiar, comforting.

“Are you mad at me?” My voice was timider than I’d have liked, but I needed to know.

A muscle twitched in Zen’s jaw, and he shook his head. “I’m mad. But not at you. Never at you.” His voice broke, and a tear streaked down his cheek. He wiped it away with a clenched fist.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered. “About— about today? I had to find out from Seven what today was, and I— why wouldn’t you tell me something like that? I could’ve stayed home, looked after you, then you’d— you wouldn’t have—”

Zen stopped short, his clipped words coming out as a muffled sob.

“I didn’t want you to worry.” I knew the answer was weak, but it was the only one I had.

“And you think this is better?!” Zen beckoned to the bustling emergency ward, to the beeping heart monitor, to the hospital bracelet caging my wrist.

I squeezed my eyes shut, swallowing a sob. “I wasn’t supposed to deal with this part.”

I’d never seen Zen’s expression drop so quickly; anger flipped to devastation, a hollow, pained guise that pummelled me with guilt. He brought my fingers to his lips, holding them there as his shoulders trembled.

“Thank god you’re here to.”

“Teleah?” a nurse asked, and I looked up, nodding. She had a kind face and tired eyes, which glanced at Zen. 

“Can you give us a sec?”

Zen looked at me for consent, and I nodded, accepting the kiss he placed on my forehead as he stepped away and let the nurse pull the curtain shut.

“I’m Tash, we just need to give you another ECG.”

I nodded numbly, watching as she worked. She had a lot of piercings; I liked her conch one in particular. I told her so, and she smiled.

“Thanks. Some people think it’s unprofessional, but I say fuck ‘em.”

I laughed. The sound was foreign on my lips.

“How you feeling?”

My laugh faded to a tired scoff. “Okay.”

We both knew I was lying, but Tash didn’t call me out. “Can I get you anything?”

I shook my head.

“I think you have another visitor,” she added as she collected the print from the machine. “A Luciel Choi?”

I swallowed. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah. A lot of people called in earlier for you, too, but they left when they heard you were asleep. He and your boyfriend were the only ones who stayed.”

“Why didn’t he come in?”

“We only let in one visitor at a time. Covid, y’know?”

Oh. Right.

“Talk to your boyfriend; he might want to switch out and let your friend come say hi.”

Tash left, and instantly, Zen pulled her aside, murmuring questions about the results. When he seemed satisfied, he settled by my side again, taking my hand and tracing his fingers along my arm.

“Seven is here?”

Zen nodded. “Yeah. They said only one of us could see you, I— I had to,” he whispered.

I smiled weakly, squeezing his hand before kissing his knuckles. My lips were dry and chapped on his smooth skin.

“Do you want to see him?”

“Maybe for a little bit.”

Zen swallowed, nodding. “Okay. Okay. I’ll be right outside though, okay, babe? And tell him not to take too long, I— I don’t want to be away from you right now,” he confessed. I relieved his worries with a tiny nod, and time barely discernably passed before a flash of red hair streaked towards me.

Saeyoung’s glasses were askew, under eyes marred with dark circles. 

“You said you were okay.” His voice was accusing, betrayed. “When I called, you— you said you were okay. Why didn’t you say something?”

“I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what more there was to say.

Saeyoung exhaled shakily, hands curling into fists at his sides tight enough to draw the blood from his knuckles easier than the nurses had drawn blood from my veins. Before I could fumble for an excuse, he was hugging me.

His grip was tight, the rims of his glasses digging into my shoulder, and I felt dampness on his neck. Saeyoung’s heart pounded frantically through his shirt, and his shaky breaths stirred my loose hair. I could feel his crucifix pressing into my stomach, and I wished I could have even half of the faith he had in a higher power.

When he pulled back, he was tangled in ECG wires. “Shit, fuck,” he hissed, trying to unwind himself without setting off my heart monitor. 

I smiled wryly. “Thanks for coming, Sae,” I managed eventually.

Saeyoung’s eyes were heavy with unspoken words, his tongue leaden with them, but he only smiled and nodded. “Of course.”

Tash returned, her sudden appearance making me jump. Her mouth twisted apologetically.

“Well, you’ve been cleared medically, and they’re ready for you in the psychiatric ward. Wanna come for a walk with me?”

I nodded slowly, exhaling shakily, and Saeyoung gave me one last hug.

“Good luck,” he whispered into my shoulder, squeezing me tightly. His fingernails pressed into my back. I nodded again.

When I’d changed out of my hospital gown, I pulled back the privacy curtain to see Zen leaning against the reception counter. He straightened immediately as I emerged, rushing to my side, an arm curling around my waist as he took my hand.

“Are you okay? Do you need me to carry you?” he asked, eyes glistening with worry. 

I smiled, and shook my head. “I’m okay. Thanks.”

He didn’t let go of me.

Tash showed us to the psych ward, and we were buzzed in.

“Okay, I’ll leave you here,” she said tiredly. I looked at the clock; midnight. 

“Can I stay with her?” Zen asked immediately, and Tash shook her head.

“Sorry; the psych ward visiting hours are over. You can come back tomorrow,” she promised.

“So— I’ll be alone?” I asked, voice wavering. 

“There’ll be nurses who’ll check on you, and you’ll be sharing a room with some other patients,” she said. “But… yeah.”

I exhaled shakily, eyes stinging. When I looked up at Zen, his eyes were shining with tears. He cupped my face with large, warm hands, smoothing the tears from under my eyes.

“I’ll see you first thing tomorrow, okay, babe? They’re going to keep you safe, everything will be okay,” he whispered, more to himself than to me. 

A sob wracked in my chest, and Zen wrapped his arms around me, burying his nose in my hair as he clutched me to his torso. He smelled of leather and disinfectant that the hospital had no doubt thrust upon him at his entry. Sharply foreign and familiar all at once.

Though I wished he’d hold me forever, eventually, he had to let go. He placed a chaste kiss to my lips.

“I’ll see you in the morning, okay? I love you, princess. So much, okay?” Though his arms were no longer around me, both of his hands were wrapped around mine.

“Okay,” I whispered. “I love you.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow, and he grazed one last kiss to my knuckles before letting go of me entirely.

Tash touched my shoulder, and her hand was soothing. “Best of luck,” she murmured, her voice lost in the barren, timeless hospital corridors. She guided Zen away, and the doors closed behind them. I heard footsteps approaching, and looked away from the man I loved, his scent still clinging to my hoodie and the taste of him still on my lips.

I turned, and faced whatever came next.

 __________

sorry for any typos, i literally just wrote and posted, no proofreading at all. kudos to you if you actually made it to the end of this.

[killherfreakout]

tessellate

an Elu AU where Lucas has a crush on his best friend Eliott, and he finds comfort in the stars. [ao3]

CHAPTER ONE: I tripped over the moon about you

a/n: *potential tw: anxiety attack (during oct 10 - dimanche) stay safe!

-

Lucas loves Eliott. There’s no doubt about that. He loves Eliott because he is a great friend, his best friend even (Yann doesn’t have to know). The two have known each other since they were young teens; they met when Lucas was 13 and Eliott 14. Although their friendship is of only a few years, it feels as if they have spent a lifetime at each other’s side - like they were destined to be close in their past lives and future ones, too.

OCT 1 - VENDREDI 21:33

It’s the second week of autumn and the air feels crisp, almost cold enough to make their breath visible. Lucas and his friends are at a house party like most Friday nights. He is outside on the porch of a classmate’s house leaning against a post supporting the roof above their heads.

“There you are,” says a voice from the tall boy coming through the patio door.

“Here I am,” Lucas replies, corners of his mouth involuntarily turning up in the presence of Eliott. He hands his friend the joint he’s holding after taking a hit himself.

Eliott raises his eyebrows in a thank you gesture, locking eyes with Lucas as he brings the rolled paper to his lips.

Lucas’ knees weaken at the sight, flicking his gaze down to the space between Eliott’s lips. He watches as they close around the joint then part until a cloud obstructs his view.

He takes it back from Eliott, pinching the paper between his thumb and forefinger and repeats the action. He thinks it’s the closest he will ever be to knowing what Eliott’s lips feel like on his. Wait, why would he think about that? He must be more drunk and/or higher than he thought.

“Lucas, you coming?” Yann yells from across the backyard, where his friends seem to have traveled to sometime after Eliott arrived. One could tell him ten years had passed and he’d believe it.

He spots Arthur and Basile setting up a game of beer pong he promised to participate in earlier that night. It breaks him out of his trance and he nods in Yann’s direction, signaling to Eliott he has to go.

Arthur and Basile somehow beat Yann and Lucas in a best-of-three match. The losing team were ordered to bring snacks from the kitchen, so Yann and Lucas made their way inside.

In their journey Lucas gets roped into hanging out with Chloé, the first year he has been kind of seeing the past two weeks. ‘Seeing’ meaning flirting with and kissing for the first time last Friday.

Lucas has always been good with girls, he knows exactly what to do to get their attention and have them wrapped around his finger in no time. But he isn’t a player by any means; he just tends to lose interest and lets them down easy before things get too serious.

Lucas is busy talking up the brunette in the kitchen when he sees Eliott walk in the patio door. He’s laughing at one of his friend’s jokes, taking a swig of his drink and almost spitting out its contents from laughing. Lucas is so focused on the sweet sound of his laughter filling the house and Eliott’s crinkled eyes in the glow of the party lights that he realizes he missed everything Chloé just said. His stomach fills with an uneasy feeling he can’t quite explain and immediately swallows the guilt that follows. Here he was being distracted by his friend and not paying attention to the pretty girl right in front of his face.

This is not the first time Lucas has felt this uneasiness in his stomach regarding Eliott. They have been friends for years and tell each other everything; Lucas feels most comfortable and most like himself when Eliott is around. But those unexplainable moments still occur every once in a while.

The first time he felt like this was when the first and second year classes went on a trip to the coast for a beach clean up project. They were on a charter bus to go back to Paris after a long day of walking the shore under the spring sun. He promised Eliott they would sit next to each other since Yann wanted Lucas to sit by him on the way there. When they got on the bus and walked to their seats toward the back, their hands brushed as Lucas’ arm swung back and Eliott’s swung forward. And then not even ten minutes later, Eliott was asleep on his shoulder for the entire three-hour ride home. The look on Eliott’s face as he woke up to the bus coming to a halt is what made his stomach flip. Lucas laid in bed that night trying to understand why he felt like that, all to no avail.

That moment on the bus flashed back in his mind when he was trying to regain focus on Chloé making advances on him. He shakes the memory out of his mind, blaming it on the alcohol and weed he’s consumed tonight, and uses every fiber of his being to give his full attention to Chloé. He looks at her from over the brim of his cup of cheap beer, her green eyes sparkling under the soft orange light of the kitchen. Lucas leans in closer to hear her better because now people are chanting and shouting at someone doing a kegstand in the living room.

Lucas set his now empty cup on the counter and downs his third shot of the night before coming close to her ear to ask, “Do you want to go somewhere.. not as.. loud?”

The girl’s lips perk up in a blushing smile as she nods. Lucas takes her hand and she follows him down the hallway to one of the empty guest rooms.

Once inside the room, Lucas makes the first move to put his lips on hers. Chloé brings up her hands to clasp them around Lucas’ neck and he proceeds to kiss her deeper. She starts to plant soft kisses on his cheek then his jaw then one on his neck before Lucas pulls away to shrug his hoodie off. This is how it’s supposed to go, right? She continues down his neck as Lucas begins to unbutton the flowery blouse she has on.

He’s on the last button when the door bursts open. It’s another handsy couple wanting to do exactly what he and Chloé are doing; there’s a guy backpedaling into the room with a girl attached to his lips. Chloé comes up for air from Lucas’ neck to see who dares to interrupt them right now.

Lucas clears his throat and wipes the leftover lip gloss off his lips when the couple stops kissing to look at them. The intruding girl blushes and the guy turns around and - oh shit. It’s Eliott, of all people, with his hair even messier than usual (if that is even possible) and his lips bright red and puffy.

Fuck. Not again. A familiar but uncomfortable feeling strikes again - Lucas’ stomach flips for the second or third time that night and he lets out a shaky breath. Eliott turns away from the girl, who he thinks is named Marie, and looks at Lucas’ hoodie on the floor then at Chloé clutching her blouse shut. He smirks at Lucas as if to say, atta boy, Luc. It’s unnerving and Lucas doesn’t like it one bit.

Lucas backs away from Chloé and swallows, everyone standing there looking at each other in an awkward silence. Lucas picks up his hoodie and heads straight out of the house.

The following realization hits him at the same time the crisp autumn air does: he is relieved that his makeout session with Chloé was cut short, and he wishes he was the one attached to Eliott’s lips barging into the supposedly empty room.

OCT 2 - SAMEDI 10:04

Lucas wakes up with a headache the next morning as the events of last night come rushing back. Lip gloss, shots, hoodie, door, and.. Eliott. Eliott’s laugh. Eliott’s lips letting out the smoke. Eliott’s red and puffy lips. Eliott smirking when he sees him with Chloé. Eliott’s lips, again. Fuck.

He turns over in his bed to grab his phone and, as expected, there are a million texts in the gang group chat from last night.

Lucas rolls his eyes and types out a reply that is only half true.

Lucas contemplates the right way to tell them, no because I don’t actually like girls and I might have a crush on my friend who is a guy haha. So he settles on:

OCT 4 - LUNDI 08:20

Lucas is chatting with the guys in the courtyard at school when he sees Eliott for the first time since the guest room incident.

“Salut,” Eliott greets the whole group then turns to Lucas, “why did you leave so suddenly on Friday? That girl seemed kinda pissed that you left,” he laughs humorlessly at the last part.

Yann and Arthur look at Lucas quizzically, wondering the same thing. Lucas has a constant stomach ache, but this time he knows what it is: anxiety and nerves.

“Oh, I uh..” was jealous of the girl you were making out with, “Felt sick and needed some fresh air. Then I just went home,” Lucas answers, internally cursing at himself. The statement was also half true.

“Oh okay,” he pauses, “Marie was glad you left though,” Eliott nudges.

The nudge from Eliott cuts deeper than Lucas expected. The bell rings and everyone goes their separate ways to class.

15:11

Lucas remembers he made plans with Eliott to study for French Lit when he walks out of his last class. He dreads it, both studying and being alone with Eliott.

He walks to the library where he said they would meet and sees Eliott waiting for him at a table reading his notes, his fingers grazing his bottom lip like he always does when he’s focused or nervous. Lucas exhales deeply and pulls out a chair across from him, a bright smile blooms on Eliott’s face as he looks up. Shit. The pit in his stomach stays the entire afternoon he studies with Eliott.

It subsides when Eliott comes back from the restroom and he notices Lucas gave up on actually studying.

“What are you reading?” Eliott asks as he takes the empty seat across from Lucas.

“Oh, um, just early astronomical theories. Like, before gravity was discovered and they still thought the Earth was the center of the solar system. It’s actually really interesting--” Lucas replies with a smile that is almost audible before he stops.

“You know what, nevermind. It’s stupid. Yann and Arthur basically fall asleep whenever I even start to talk about it,” he adds with a sad smile, tucking his head down.

“Hey,” Eliott says firmly, reaching across the table to rest a hand on his. “If you like it, it’s not stupid.”

Lucas looks up to see Eliott’s gaze fixed on Lucas, burning its way through his skin. He’s never had anyone look at him with such intensity and such care. Lucas hardly ever feels like anyone notices or takes any interest in what he cares about or likes. Sure, he has the gang and the girls, but all of their conversations seem to revolve around who is hooking up with who and when the next party is.

But with Eliott he feels like more than a default option, more than second or third best. It’s comforting and fucking terrifying at the same time.

“I guess,” Lucas shrugs, shifting his hand out of Eliott’s grasp to pick up the book laying flat on the table. “Don’t worry, I won’t bore you with my fascination with the universe,” flicking his eyes back at Eliott for a moment.

“Whatever you say,” Eliott indulges him.

The ping that comes from Eliott’s phone pops the bubble they occupy.

“Shit, I totally forgot, Sofiane wanted me to help him with this fundraiser for the youth center. But text me if you want to hang and talk about the universe some more.”

Lucas looks up to Eliott standing with his backpack on one shoulder, which would normally make him feel small, but he doesn’t.

“Okay, I will,” chuckles Lucas before turning back to the book that sparked the conversation.

“See you tomorrow, Luc,” Eliott says over his shoulder as he walks to the bus stop.

“Yeah, bye, Eli..ott,” Lucas says, the last part a little too quiet and a little too late. After the events of Friday night, Lucas feels like he is not allowed to use that nickname, feels like he lost the privilege to say it or something.

OCT 5 - MARDI 14:17

Lucas spots Eliott down the hall talking to one of his teachers and Eliott smiles at him. Lucas is looking right at him but doesn’t do anything to respond and looks away. He looks back at Eliott to see him looking at the floor, a little upset. Shit. Why didn’t he just smile back? He’s still his best friend, why is he acting so weird? Lucas kicks himself and that stomach ache is back.

OCT 7 - JEUDI 11:46

Lucas manages to get through the past two days without seeing Eliott at school and, to be honest, he is a bit relieved. He knows that he will just act weird whenever he’s around Eliott again so he’s glad he didn’t have to make it weirder between them.

He couldn’t avoid Chloé though. The universe couldn’t afford him such a luxury; not like they ever do. Chloé taps Lucas’ shoulder, forcing him to turn around and look at her, the sparkle in her eyes missing.

“Hey, Lucas, it’s been a while..” Chloé starts, trying to give him a chance to explain himself for leaving her on Friday, blouse open and all.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I felt sick that night and I’ve been super busy with the bac and stuff,” he explains, and it works, seeing as her face brightened up. He knew the bac thing would work, Chloé is in the year below and has that to look forward to next year.

“Oh, that’s okay.. So, do you want to see a movie this weekend or something? There’s this film festival they hold every October on Saturday and I hear it’s really cool,” Chloé suggests excitedly.

The words come out of his mouth before he can think, “Sure, sounds great.”

“Awesome! I’ll see you then,” Chloé adds, giving him a quick kiss on the lips before leaving him in the hallway.

OCT 8 - VENDREDI 14:42

Lucas makes his way over to the bus stop and can’t wait to just chill at the coloc after the week he’s had. So much has happened and so much has changed in the last seven days. From constant nauseousness, a new girlfriend, and, oh yeah, having feelings for a guy, who happens to be his best friend. On top of that, Lucas hasn’t even hung out with the gang since last Friday and a few days at lunch.

His stomach starts to grumble because he skipped lunch to help Daphné and the girls with the foyer. On his way to the bus stop, Lucas decides to get a snack from the vending machine outside.

He thought he could skate by without another uncomfortable situation, but the universe had other plans. Eliott is standing in front of the vending machine, putting coins in and pushing buttons to get his snack. Eliott turns around to sit on the bench near the curb when he bumps into Lucas.

“Sorry,” Eliott exclaims before realizing who he has collided with. A small smile graced his lips.

It’s like he read Lucas’ mind, Eliott sits and hands him one of the chocolate bars he just purchased, almost as a peace offering - for the collision and for the unspoken weirdness between them lately.

Lucas accepts the chocolate and joins him on the bench. They tear open their bars and start to chew them in silence until Eliott asks what he’s been wanting to for a week now.

“Is everything okay? You’ve been distant and quiet lately.”

Lucas can feel Eliott’s worried and kind eyes on him, waiting for an answer. He makes up another excuse for his behavior, which seems to be second nature these days.

“Yeah I’ve been busy with studying for the bac while trying to find a part time job to pick up the rent that my dad isn’t paying. And I haven’t visited my mom in a while...”

Everything Lucas is saying is true, but it’s not the explanation Eliott is looking for nor the one that actually answers his question.

Eliott finishes the chocolate bar and turns to face Lucas. He gives him a half smile, his eyes warm and understanding. It makes Lucas feel at ease for the first time in a week, like he finally has his friend back.

“If you ever need help with anything you know you can just ask, Luc. That’s what friends are for,” Eliott offers along with an elbow to Lucas’ side, his eyes bright now but still just as warm.

Luc. How can one syllable make his stomach turn? The guilt from before comes rushing back, undeserving of such a nickname.

If the universe got one thing right, it’s putting Eliott into his life. He has been nothing but sweet and kind, a constant support system in his life when his mother and father couldn’t be. It boggles his mind how lucky he is to have a friend like Eliott but how unlucky he is to have fallen for him. Lucas feels so much gratitude for Eliott’s friendship and support but can’t help feeling guilty for not taking him up on it. What is he supposed to do, ask Eliott for advice on how to go about coming to terms with having a crush on him?

The bus pulls up to the curb and Lucas is so lost in thought that Eliott has to grab his arm to get him to hop on the bus.

OCT 9 - SAMEDI 15:49

Chloé is wearing a pink dress and the same lip gloss from the party last week. Lucas kisses her quickly and takes her hand as they walk into the huge theatre. Chloé takes a program with the list of films and cast and crew in it, then points to one of the names and decides that is the movie they should see. They sit in the plush red chairs and the lights go down as they settle into their seats, Chloé’s hand still in his.

They are halfway through the movie when Lucas gets up to go to the bathroom. He just can’t keep up the cute romantic act that Chloé wants from him anymore and needs to get out of that packed theatre. Lucas goes to the restroom and feels better instantly, it’s quiet and the air is cooler there. He washes his hands and uses the paper towel to get the sticky lip gloss off of his mouth and cheek where Chloé kissed him randomly during the opening credits.

So much for giving her another shot. Lucas really thought that he could go out with Chloé again and see how cute and beautiful and kind she is, to have those romantic and sexual feelings he knows he should have for her. Lucas looks at himself in the mirror, pressing his lips together in a flat line. He doesn’t know who he is, how to act, or what to do anymore. What happened to the guy that was confident and smooth, what happened to the guy his friends would look to for girl advice, what happened to the Luc who was always Eli’s best friend? Not this again. But this time there’s no stomach ache, no butterflies, nothing. He just feels empty. Like there’s just nothing left of him.

Finally, after what seems to be the longest hour of his life, the lights come up and the credits roll as Chloé turns to him to talk about the ending. Lucas wasn’t paying that much attention to the plot so he doesn’t know what to say, but luckily she’s doing most of the talking anyway. A couple are coming up the aisle to exit the theatre and his heart drops. It’s Eliott, holding hands with another guy.

What is he doing here? Oh, duh, he’s into film and art and it actually makes sense that Eliott would be here. But what is he doing here, with that guy? Who is this guy? And why is he holding hands with Eliott?

Lucas knows full well that Eliott is pansexual and fully supports him. He’s knows Eliott has been with guys before, but he’s never been in a committed relationship with a guy.

And what happened to Marie? If he’s not with Marie anymore, then does that mean the guest room incident was for nothing? Eliott barging in with Marie, that is. Or, maybe, the whole Lucas realizing he has a crush on him thing.

Seeing Eliott holding hands with a guy makes it even worse. A surge of envy courses through his body and he doesn’t know how to handle it.

Lucas doesn’t think, just leans forward to capture Chloé’s lips with his and doesn’t let them go. He opens his eyes after a few seconds to see Eliott look his way, then shuts them again, in a far too passionate kiss for being in public, to avoid seeing Eliott’s reaction.

Chloé is dumbfounded, but pleasantly surprised and blushing hard when Lucas pulls away. He takes her hand and they walk out of the theatre, feeling so shitty for what he just did. Why did he do that? To prove something to Eliott? To Chloé? To himself?

Of course, the universe is up to their usual scheme; Eliott and his date are chatting in the lobby with one of the program directors in front of a booth for a film school. Lucas can’t help but smile slightly at the fact that Eliott looks so happy to be talking about film school and wishes he could share this moment with him. It has always been one of Eliott’s dreams to make a film.

Chloé says something but Lucas doesn’t hear. Eliott looks around the room and locks eyes with Lucas again, the latter averting his gaze after a minute. The stomach ache is back with a vengeance.

“How about some gelato? I saw a place on my way over here,” Chloé suggests, and kisses Lucas as they exit the festival.

OCT 10 - DIMANCHE 17:23

It’s a lazy Sunday at the coloc, Manon and Lisa are watching TV on the couch and Mika is laying on the floor on his phone. Lucas gets up from the chair in the living room to get a glass of water when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket.

Shit. The last time Lucas studied for French was almost a week ago, with Eliott. Eliott. He feels guilty for shutting him out this past week, especially after the bus stop the other day.

Before Lucas could reply, another text pops up and it looks like the universe is packing another punch on this fine Sunday afternoon. He walks into his room before opening it.

Next time. If Lucas has to go on another date with Chloé he will actually explode. What excuse could he come up with now? He used to be so good at finessing himself out of too many dates to make sure it doesn’t become anything more than a casual fling. But this isn’t a fling anymore, it’s completely fake, a cover up. He’s using Chloé, and for what? Lucas is not personally getting anything out of it, other than a lot of guilt and anger. And protecting his reputation. Fuck his reputation, he can’t handle this anymore. But how the fuck is he supposed to go about doing this? Tell her that he doesn’t like her, or any girl for that matter? Tell the guys that all of his moves to win over girls were an act? Tell Eliott how he feels?

He can’t. It’s all too overwhelming, too scary, too risky. What if Chloé doesn’t take it well? What if his friends don’t want to be around him anymore? What if Eliott doesn’t? What if Eliott hates him? He can’t lose Eliott as a friend. He can’t lose Eliott.

The thought of it forces a full-on anxiety attack. Lucas doesn’t register the fact that he’s crying until a tear falls onto his phone screen with the message from Chloé still open. He tosses his phone aside and climbs into bed and just lets it all out.

Lucas hears commotion in the living room, reminding him of the presence of his roommates, and makes half a mind to silent his sobs only to realize that he physically can’t. So he keeps crying and hopes that his roommates leave him alone, he’s just too embarrassed and too afraid to explain why he’s reduced to tears.

The universe spares him that, at least. It would just be brutal if they didn’t.

OCT 13 - MERCREDI 13:55

The gang decides to go to the library after school to cram for the French Literature test they have in two days, and Lucas needs all the help he can get. Imane and Emma join them later, and Lucas gets some tutoring out of Imane. She’s awfully nice to him today and he’s a little suspicious about it. Turns out Manon did hear him sobbing last night and it’s also written all over his face, exhausted and lifeless.

The library seems to be the place to be today. Chloé walks by the boys’ table and Lucas hears her friends whisper and giggle, pushing her towards Lucas. Chloé blushes and stands over Lucas still sitting at the table.

“Hi babe,” she greets him and lowers herself to accept a kiss she expects from Lucas. He indulges her, an awkward second later. She tries to brush off the fact that Lucas didn’t reply to her text and that he didn’t seem all that happy kiss her.

“So, I was thinking.. our next date should be like a romantic walk in the park, or something like that, you know, to talk and spend more time together.”

“Yeah, okay,” Lucas responds unenthusiastically. At this point, he has absolutely no interest in keeping this going any longer. He thinks it will just be easier for her to break things off instead of him.

“How about Friday night?”

“Sure.”

Chloé walks away with her posse, quietly cheering for her. Lucas feels exhausted just thinking about that date. Maybe she won’t be so quick to break things off.

OCT 15 - VENDREDI 11:41

Lucas’ biology class just got out and he stops at his locker for one last look at his French notes before going in for the exam. He tries to read as much as he can in the four minutes he has before one of the biggest exams of the year when he gets a text. He wouldn’t have opened it if not for the screen being right next to his notes and noticing who the message is from.

Lucas smiles like an idiot looking at his phone and laughs at the stupid and charming hedgehog meme. Then warmth spreads in his chest at the message that follows.

The usual is code for joints and beers at Eliott’s, and it’s amazing how he can anticipate exactly what Lucas wants and needs without fail.

The bell is about to ring, so Lucas ditches his phone in his locker and heads to the exam. Turns out the messages from Eliott helped more than a few minutes of cramming ever could.

14:55

Lucas sees his best friend sitting at the bus stop and waits a moment before joining him. He takes a second to take in the way Eliott’s ears are pinkish-reddish from sitting out in the cold, the way his brows are slightly furrowed as he focuses on reading something on his phone, the small black ink stain on the denim covering his right knee, his exposed ankles.

His heart flutters and feels blood rushing to his cheeks. But he’ll blame it on the same weather that colored the ears under Eliott’s perfectly messy hair.

Lucas takes a deep breath and slumps down on the cold bench next to the other boy.

“So? Did you ace it?” Eliott asks eagerly, turning to hand him the chocolate bar he was promised.

“Well, I wouldn’t say I aced it, but I think I did okay,” Lucas gives him an open-mouthed smile. “Because I had the hedgehog cheering me on.”

Eliott lets out a laugh, bright and loud, bigger than the one at the house party a few weeks ago. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and Lucas can’t believe that he’s the one who brought it out. Lucas laughs with him and swears his heart grows two sizes larger.

19:38

The feeling stays with him all night at Eliott’s. The two boys shared a joint and a few beers each before Eliott wants to take Lucas somewhere. They end up walking down a couple blocks to a secluded area with a park behind a locked gate. It’s dark and cold, but Lucas doesn’t care. Okay, maybe he’s a little scared, and maybe that’s why he stays close to Eliott’s side as they go deeper into the woods.

Eliott leads him down a path to a tunnel under a bridge. They lay down on the hard earth and look up at the night sky. It’s the first time in a long time that Lucas feels completely at ease - no stomach ache, no intrusive thoughts clouding his mind, just at ease.

“This is my place. It’s the best place to look at the stars in all of Paris, the city lights and pollution don’t interfere as much here,” Eliott says, soft and warm, the opposite of the ground they’re laying on.

Eliott reaches into his jacket pocket and fishes out his phone with headphones attached. Lucas watches his face illuminated by his phone’s light and takes the right earbud Eliott offers him. They listen to a song in comfortable silence until something comes to Lucas’ mind.

“You know, when you look at the stars, you’re actually looking into the past,” Lucas blurts out. “The stars are so far away that the light we see is from, like, a million light years ago. And we’ll never know whether the star has died and become a supernova or if its light is just beginning to reach us.”

He’s quiet for a while, until he continues: “It’s crazy, right? And almost a bit sad, I think.” A pause. “I mean, it’s like an author or artist whose works aren’t appreciated until after they’re dead.”

Eliott opens his mouth to respond, but doesn’t.

Lucas only realizes after how somber his words were, and how he had ruined such a perfect atmosphere with Eliott. His heart sinks and wishes he never said anything.

But, like clockwork, Eliott saves the day.

He shrugs and counters with, “I don’t know... But that’s one way of looking at it.”

Lucas turns his head to face Eliott now, but the latter doesn’t remove his gaze from the maybe-dead stars shining above them. He is stunned by the ease that his friend has coming up with the perfect words to resolve any misstep caused by Lucas. He can almost see the cogs turning in Eliott’s head as he strings those perfect words together, a skill he wishes he could possess.

“Well, the way I figure it, it’s comforting. I mean, with the millions of light years between us and the stars.. Even if we can’t see them, you know they’re still out there,” Eliott adds softly, like it’s a secret you have to be in on to hear.

Lucas subconsciously notes the change between the use of we and you in Eliott’s words and takes in the way his eyes are sparkling from the stars they speak of.

“And yeah, you don’t know when the light is coming, but you know that it will come eventually.”

These words linger in the safe bubble they share before Eliott says firmly, “It always does.”

[artificialqueens]

You're beautiful, no matter what I used to say - (Nina/Brooke) - multifandomgeek

Summary: To Brooke, beauty is everything. So when she starts getting feelings for a girl completely outside her type, she just tries to ignore it.

-

A lesbian, college AU

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20606846

–

Brooke lived for beauty. She loved every aspect of it, and it was part of all of her favorite subjects: makeup, fashion, design. She had a good eye for it too, be it in art or in people, and she was proud of that. In her first year of college, she already knew it would be an important aspect of her life, no matter if she decided to design clothes or graphic material (she was still thinking about it).

To her, It was extremely important to look her best at all times. It only made sense, and she would rather spend less on food than go without her trusted brands of makeup, even if with her clothes she could be a little more creative to fit her budget.

Beauty was everything, and when she found herself attracted to someone, appearance was always on the top of the list. Some people might call it shallow, but for her it was just a clear sign that that girl had something in common with her. Even when she was a young teen, it had seemed so obvious that she would be a lesbian because women were just the most beautiful creatures on earth. It was simple.

She liked girls with softly smoked eyes paired with red lips, or colorfully blended eyeshadow with a bold personality. She liked voluptuous hair that she could tell was fancy just from looking at it, or maybe short, well-kept styles that exposed a long neck and big, stylish earrings. But most of all, she liked girls’ curves. A lean body, round just in the right places, that she would pull closer to her with a hand strategically placed on their lower backs.

She could never see herself with a less than perfect girl. It was just who she was. Some people valued romance, others valued loyalty, and Brooke valued beauty. To each their own.

“Why are we doing this again?” Brooke asked Detox, her best friend, who had dragged her to a LGBTQ event one afternoon.

“Because we’re queer, and we should give back to the community,” said Detox, fixing her lipstick in a small mirror while they waited for the thing to begin. It was supposed to be an auction, or was it a bingo? Brooke didn’t really care.

“Give back for what?” mumbled Brooke, looking around as they sat down, seeing if she could at least score a good lay from this, but everybody seemed a little… weird.

Detox elbowed her. “Aren’t you out, you ungrateful cunt? Don’t take that for granted.”

Brooke rolled her eyes, but didn’t say anything else. She looked at her nails and accepted her fate, if only for Detox’s sake. She knew her friend had another relationship entirely with being gay, and even if Brooke didn’t get it, she wasn’t that big of an asshole to not be able to stand a few hours in a boring lecture (what even was this event?) to support her best friend.

The room they were in was relatively small, with a few rows of plastic chairs pointing to a raised platform on one of its extremities, where a podium with a microphone was set. It reminded Brooke of the church her mother used to go to when she was little, if with a lower ceiling. The chairs were about half full, and she supposed this kind of thing wasn’t very popular. It wasn’t difficult to understand why, considering Brooke herself didn’t want to come in the first place.

She and Detox were sitting at one of the last rows. They usually found themselves in that position, often because they wanted the option to leave in the middle of things, but maybe it was just a habit that came from being popular and not caring much about school. There were all kinds of people scattered around, a lot of them clearly alone, and Brooke couldn’t help but pity them. Maybe this organization (was it a club?) was important for some people after all.

“Okay, guys, sorry for the delay,” said a girl taking the podium with a hurried demeanor and a giant smile. She didn’t talk on the mic, but her presence was enough to make the low chatter that had filled the room stop all at once. “We’ll begin in a minute, but while we don’t, Josh will pass a list for you to fill in with your contact info. It’s completely optional, and we’ll use it to keep you updated with our activities.”

A guy with bright blue hair waved two clipboards with pens tied to them, so everybody could see, before handing them to people sitting on opposite sides of the room. Brooke dismissed it completely, turning her gaze back to the girl at the podium, who was now going through a stack of papers with an air of confident professionalism, a soft smile still playing on her lips.

She was a big girl, probably as tall as Brooke and who knows how much heavier. She had her dark blonde hair brushed back and kept in place by a headband, with a few strands dyed pink, almost randomly and already quite faded. She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt with a logo that was probably that of the LGBTQ association. There was no makeup on her face apart for a nude lipstick. Maybe a little concealer, if that, not that Brooke could notice at that distance. She caught herself thinking she could be sort of pretty, if she put some effort into it.

“Is this working?” said the girl, grabbing the mic, that was, indeed, working. “Okay, it is, haha,” she laughed, and Brooke smiled with her. What? “Hello everyone, and welcome. My name is Nina West, I’m the head of our LGBTQIA+ Association. I want to thank everyone for coming, it means a lot for us, and know that you’re always welcome here, no matter what.” Nina’s smile was so genuine Brooke couldn’t help but believe her, even though it was probably a speech she had delivered a hundred times.

Nina went on to list the weekly activities held by the association, that included game and movie nights, soccer practice, singing lessons, support groups, activism meetings, and so many other things that Brooke was genuinely surprised. The clipboard for the contact info reached her and she almost filled it in before remembering she didn’t actually want to be there. She passed it over to Detox, not looking if she was filling it herself in favor of keeping watching Nina. “We’ve had sewing and fashion design workshops for the last few months, and everyone was so good we decided it would be fun to show it off!” said Nina excitedly. “Tonight, our models are all LGBTQIA students who attended the workshops and made or embellished the clothes they’re wearing. So please give it up for our first artist, Trevor!”

Brooke was smiling and clapping with the crowd before she could think about it. A lanky boy wearing a short sequined dress appeared from behind her to parade through the center of the room, between the rows of chairs. The dress was not very remarkable, but Trevor was smiling so much, strutting like he truly believed he was on a runway, that it seemed more beautiful than it actually was. He went up to the stage and made a few poses while people cheered and clapped.

Nina walked to him, smiling so proudly you’d think she was his mom. “Hi Trevor, how are you?” she pointed the mic to him so he could answer.

“I’m fabulous!” said Trevor.

Nina laughed wholeheartedly and Brooke’s heart did something weird. “You are!” said Nina. “Did you make this from scratch?”

“Yes,” said Trevor, a little more shyly. “Sasha helped a lot, but yeah.”

“It’s amazing!” said Nina. “Isn’t it, you guys?” she turned to the small audience, who whistled and cheered. “You’re incredible, Trev! And fabulous.” She pointed at him, while kindly leading him to stand on the corner while she announced the next model, this time a girl in a big puffy jacket.

The fashion show went on, and while some of the garments were… well, questionable, a couple were really well made and tasteful. The last person to walk the make-shift runway was Sasha, the person who most people mentioned as their mentor. Brooke couldn’t really tell if they were a boy or a girl, and it was fascinating. They were absolutely beautiful, despite the bald head, which was so bizarre in Brooke’s mind. Sasha was wearing a long red gown that was so gorgeous it should be on a red carpet. Brooke wanted to meet them.

In fact, now that she thought about it, a workshop might be just what she needed to decide on what major she should pursue. She could have a taste of the real thing and see if it seemed like something she wanted to do for the rest of her life, then go for the fashion career. If not, then graphic design could be the right choice after all. It was at least worth a try.

She explained it to Detox once the event was over. To say she looked surprised was an understatement, the other girl surely expecting Brooke to want to leave as soon as possible. People were talking and mingling around the room. Brooke noticed nobody was alone anymore, and it gave her a weirdly nice feeling. She felt nervous as she approached Nina, which was even weirder. She never had problems talking to people before, but this girl was something else.

“Hi,” said Brooke once Nina was free from a conversation with one of the students who had modeled.

“Hi!” said Nina with a gentle smile. She was just as tall as Brooke, and her eyes were so pretty.

“I’m Brooke,” she said, extending her hand.

“I’m Nina, nice to meet you.” Nina’s handshake was firm yet comforting.

She must give the best hugs, Brooke thought. What was going on with her today? “I was wondering if those sewing workshops are still going on?”

“Yes, of course!” said Nina, letting go of Brooke’s hand, that suddenly felt cold. “It happens on Wednesdays at 7 p.m. Did you put your email on the contact sheet?”

“Oh. No, I, hm…” Brooke trailed off, not knowing what she could say.

“It’s fine,” said Nina without missing a beat. “Just show up a few minutes earlier and we’ll set you up.” She touched Brooke’s arm, smiling.

Brooke just wanted to be her friend so bad. “Okay, then. I will. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” said Nina. “See you then.”

Brooke made her way back to Detox, who was watching her with a weird smile on her face.

“I think you have a crush on pink girl,” said Detox.

“What? Of course not, she’s-” Fat, Brooke wanted to say, but refrained. Detox just chuckled and shook her head, not looking like she believed Brooke at all. Brooke looked back at Nina, who was now talking to Sasha. One of the pink strands of her hair had fallen down her face, brushing her cheek, and Brooke wanted to pull it back for her. “She’s so nice, though.”

–

When Wednesday came around, Brooke found her way back to the Association room all by herself. She was very excited, the prospect of doing something passion-oriented so refreshing after so many weeks of exhausting classes. She had dressed sensibly professional, changing after her classes just to feel more confident going in. She had even applied a new nail-polish just the day before, predicting she would get there barely knowing how to thread a needle and wanting to be at the top of her game to cope with her anxiety.

She was 15 minutes early. The chairs were all piled in one corner, making space for a few long tables that were scattered in the center of the room. Sasha was there, taking pieces of fabric out of a suitcase and organizing them on the tables. Near the door, there was a desk where another girl sat, working on a laptop. She looked up when Brooke approached.

“Can I help you?” she asked. She wasn’t rude, but Brooke was expecting Nina. Of course, Nina couldn’t be there all the time, and the disappointment pooling in Brooke’s stomach made absolutely no sense. She didn’t come here for the other girl, she came for the sewing. Right?

“Hi, I came for the sewing workshop? Nina told me to come early because I’m new.”

“Oh, welcome,” the girl smiled. She had curly brown hair and warm eyes, but it just didn’t hit quite as good. “I’m Meatball.”

“I’m- what?”

The girl laughed, pleased at Brooke’s reaction. “Meatball. It’s not my real name, don’t worry, my parents weren’t that mean,” she said, opening a drawer and rummaging in it for a moment before finding a piece of paper that she handled to Brooke. “Fill this out and you’re good to go.”

It was a form for Brooke’s basic information, with a few unusual boxes like “pronouns” and a line saying you could use whatever name you’d like, it didn’t have to be your official one. For a split second, Brooke thought about how unnecessary that seemed, but then it hit her where she was, and she wondered how much of a difference a detail like that made in making people feel welcome there. A lot, she supposed.

“HI, DIVA,” Meatball suddenly shouted, startling Brooke, who looked up to see Nina at the door. Her heart started beating faster, inexplicably.

“HI, DIVA,” Nina yelled back, leaning over the desk to… wiggle her tongue at Meatball? It was like they were having an open-mouthed, exaggerated kiss, but without actually touching. It was ridiculous, kind of disgusting, and Brooke wanted Nina to do it to her too.

Nina turned to Brooke. “You came!” she said, and Brooke didn’t even know when she started smiling.

“Hi,” she said. Nina had her hair up in a ponytail today, and was wearing a more delicate top than the t-shirt that Brooke saw her in last time. It had a nicely cut cleavage, and wow, those were nice tits. Brooke snapped out of it before she ogled for too long, swiftly finishing her form and handling it to Meatball.

“Have you met Sasha yet?” asked Nina, placing a hand on Brooke’s back.

“Not really, no,” said Brooke, being guided to the tables, not taking her eyes off Nina.

“Hey, beauties,” said Sasha as they approached, and their voice was just enthralling.

“Hi, gorgeous,” said Nina, kissing Sasha’s cheek. “I have a new student for you, this is- oh, I’m so sorry, I forgot your name,” said Nina apologetically.

“Brooke,” she said, extending her hand to Sasha, who shook it. “Nice to meet you.” Nina forgot her name. That was cool, it was fine. They had talked for what, 10 seconds? At least she remembered her. Brooke was not at all saddened by it, that would be ridiculous.

Sasha asked Brooke what did she expect from the workshop and they started talking about the Fashion Design program, Sasha being a junior and a great source of information on the matter. Brooke should be more interested, really, and not fighting to pay attention as Nina slipped out of the conversation to talk to Meatball again.

But Sasha was their own kind of creature, and Brooke was genuinely mesmerized by them, even if her mind was playing tricks on her. Soon, she found herself hanging on every word as Sasha talked about beauty, in a completely different way than Brooke ever heard someone talk about the subject before. Soon, a few more people arrived, and Sasha had to cut the conversation short to start the class, leaving Brooke wanting more and at the same time with too much to think about.

There were about a dozen people in the room, and they were separated accordingly to what they wanted to learn. A few people were making clothes from scratch while others were decorating. Brooke was placed at a corner with a boy who taught her how to turn on the only sewing machine they had and how to make it work. It took a moment, but she got the hang of it, feeling immensely proud when she finally got the thing to whirl into motion, threading a line on a small piece of fabric, just for practice.

Once Brooke learned how to do the bare minimum on the machine, Sasha asked Nina to show her how to thread a needle and stitch something by hand, while someone else used the machine. Brooke was so happy to have an opportunity to talk to Nina again that she didn’t even feel when the needle punctured her finger as she tried to put a thread through its impossibly small hole.

“I didn’t think you were going to be in the class,” said Brooke, putting her finger in her mouth and sucking on it. Nina’s gaze zeroed on her lips for a moment and Brooke felt like smirking.

“Oh, I love it,” said Nina, quickly finding something to do on the table. “I’m not very good at it, but Sasha is such a great teacher, I can’t help but keep coming back.” She was avoiding looking at Brooke’s face; it was adorable and made something sparkle in Brooke’s chest.

“I think I want to be a fashion designer too,” said Brooke, going back to trying to thread the needle.

“That’s great! I’m a theater major, so it’s really useful for costumes and such, but I could never create things like you guys,” said Nina, relaxing a bit once she noticed Brooke’s finger wasn’t in her mouth anymore.

“This is frustrating. I might as well just give up on that dream,” said Brooke, lowering the needle with a huff.

Nina laughed. “You can practice that later. Here, have mine.”

Brooke was still hung up on the fact that she made Nina laugh, taking the needle with a thread already in it from her hand. Nina showed her how to make a simple stitch, and let her practice while she worked on her own project, a hoodie with a small hole in the seam that she was trying to fix.

They kept talking while doing it, and Brooke found out Nina was two years her senior, but had been in the queer association since day one, and for her, it was the most important part of her college life. She told Brooke a few stories about students that found there a true beacon of hope, and how she was so very proud of helping to build a safe space for the community in campus, even if that proved risky sometimes.

“What do you mean, risky?” asked Brooke.

“Oh, you know, just your regular bigot professor, sometimes a group of students who think they can just throw slurs at us and we’ll stay quiet. Oh, and of course, every time there are some cost issues, we are the first thing to pop up on the administration’s mind. It’s been fine nowadays, I just have to pay attention, it’s not like when-” She interrupted herself, looking away before she looked at Brooke again. “Hey, you’re almost finished. I have to show you how to tie a knot in the end now.”

“I want to help,” said Brooke all of a sudden. She didn’t know where that came from, this was supposed to be something she was doing for her own sake, selfish in every sense of the word. Brooke was not the kind of person who volunteered, and she was certainly not the kind of person who did things impulsively just to impress some pretty girl.

Wait, what?

“I’d really appreciate that, Brooke,” said Nina, looking into Brooke’s eyes.

Oh, what the hell.

“I have to look at my schedule, but I can free some time for you- for the association, I mean. I’m pretty good with time-management, I can help with whatever you need.” Her heart was pounding. She wondered if she could become familiar enough to have Nina kiss her cheek when she said hello to her too.

“Thank you,” said Nina, smiling in a way that felt like a reward in itself. She quickly walked to Meatball’s desk and took a slip of paper from the drawer, coming back to give it to Brooke. “Send me an email, we always need more people.”

It wasn’t like getting her number, but it was something. Not that Brooke liked her that way.

“I will.”

–

Volunteering, as it turned out, was work. A lot of work, especially if you just couldn’t find the heart to say no to the person in charge, even if there was an exam coming up or an essay due.

“You know, if you just boned her your life would be so much easier,” said Detox one day, roughly two months after Brooke started volunteering at the association. She was sitting at Brooke’s bed, watching the blonde apply concealer under her eyes to hide the signs of her tiredness.

“Fuck off,” said Brooke, focusing on her makeup and trying not to think about just how much she wished she could take that advice.

Becoming friends with Nina was easy. She was a very friendly person. In fact, she had a lot of friends, and Brooke was absolutely not jealous of any of them, nuh-uh, especially not the gay boys who kissed her on the mouth to say hello. Not at all.

Being friends with her was even easier, Nina was kind, sensitive, a great listener, but perhaps her greatest quality was her sense of humor. It just matched Brooke’s, in a way that sometimes left both of them with tears in their eyes. She just liked being with her, everything seemed so much better when Nina was around. Brooke smiled more, did more things that she was proud of, Nina just made her a point-blank better person, and happier too.

Brooke was so in love with her it was dizzying.

“Why haven’t you made a move yet?” said Detox. “Didn’t you say you could have, and I quote, ‘any fucking girl you wanted’?”

“Did I actually say that? God, I’m obnoxious,” said Brooke, scrunching her face at herself.

Detox laughed. “That’s not the point. What’s the deal with this girl?”

“I’m ready,” said Brooke, finishing touching up her lipstick and capping it, completely ignoring the question. “Come on, let’s go.”

Detox rolled her eyes, following Brooke outside so they could walk to class together.

–

Later that week, Brooke found herself at Nina’s place, together with half a dozen people as they did a task force to organize a bunch of paper-related tasks, including cutting up hundreds of flyers for upcoming events, which was what Brooke was doing. Her thumb was sore already, and so were her cheeks from all the laughing.

“Look at this bitch,” said Meatball with her phone pointing at Brooke’s face, probably filming an Instagram story. “Who puts on that much makeup to get paper cuts?”

“That reminds me, I got something for you,” said Brooke, reaching in her jeans pocket and bringing out her middle finger.

Meatball laughed, putting her phone down. “She’s growing on me,” she said to Nina, who was behind a laptop, trying to fix some finance sheets with Josh. Nina looked at her fondly. Brooke had been trying to stare less at her, but sometimes it was just impossible.

They kept working, the conversation switching back an forth between the most stupid things and important matters regarding the association. As the night progressed, people started to leave, but Brooke stayed put. There were still too many flyers to cut up, and besides, she had nowhere else she’d rather be.

“Look at this,” said Nina at some point, sitting beside her on the couch to show a video on her phone. It was of a couple dancing at their wedding. The camera only focused on the couple for one second, however, before zooming in on a little girl standing with the crowd wearing a hulk mask and a cute, flowery dress. It was so funny, and they watched it too many times.

“Every time I come to your house I have to put on waterproof mascara,” said Brooke, dabbing at the corner of her eyes.

Nina chuckled. “You could not put mascara at all, you know.” Brooke gasped, overdramatically, making Nina laugh even harder. “I don’t get it, honestly. You’re so pretty, why do you do all that?”

“You think I’m all that pretty precisely because I do all that,” said Brooke, trying to play down how flustered the comment actually made her. She noticed they were alone in the apartment now, not knowing how she could’ve missed it. Her heart went crazy.

“Yeah, right,” said Nina, leaning her elbow on the back of the couch. “I’m sure you’re just a monster without lipstick on.”

Brooke shook her head, not knowing what to say. She liked wearing makeup, but lately she had been thinking maybe she relied too heavily on it. It was a work in progress. In any case, she couldn’t just not try to look her best whenever she was seeing Nina. Because if she wasn’t beautiful, then what was she?

“Beauty is all I have,” said Brooke, focused on the paper she was working on.

“What are you talking about?” said Nina. “Brooke you’re not just beautiful, you’re so much more than that.”

“I know.” Brooke smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Thanks,” she completed, hoping that would be the end of it.

“Hey,” said Nina softly, taking the scissors and paper from Brooke’s hand and putting it away. “Talk to me.”

There were tears in the corner of Brooke’s eyes. Fuck. “It’s nothing, I’m fine. I just used to be so obsessed with standards, you know? Thought it was so important, and it’s not. But it’s what I am, right?” she shrugged. “I’m pretty. I’m not particularly smart, or kind, or-” Nina looked so beautiful today, her hair let down and her pink strands recently retouched. Her eyes were searching Brooke’s so kindly it was overwhelming.

“Who let you believe that? That’s not true, Brooke. You’re all of those things.”

It was so hard not to believe Nina. “I sort of like this girl, and I’ve never felt like this before. It’s like I didn’t know my heart was frozen until she took it in her hands and warmed it up, and now I’m so much better because of her.” Brooke sighed. She didn’t know what she was doing, but now she was talking and she couldn’t stop. “But she’s so amazing, she just deserves better than me. Way better.”

“Brooke,” said Nina, kindly, taking her hand. God, Brooke liked her so much. “Don’t tell me you don’t know the effect you have on people, I’m sure whoever this girl is she’d be so lucky to have you.”

“No, you don’t get it,” said Brooke, getting up, suddenly frustrated. “It’s not just about sex, okay? Yeah, I want her, but it’s not just that.”

“That’s good, it’s great! So tell her! Wait, is she straight?”

“No,” Brooke chuckled at the absurdity of it.

“Oh, good. So tell her! Brooke, you’re an amazing person, you deserve love.”

Brooke looked at her. She was up now too, looking like it didn’t even cross her mind that this girl could be herself. If it did, maybe she wouldn’t be saying these things.

“Yeah, maybe I will,” lied Brooke. “Thanks, Nina.”

Nina hugged her. Brooke closed her eyes, resisting the urge to bury her nose in her neck.

“Who is it?” asked Nina, pulling back. “Do I know her?”

Brooke shook her head, panicking.

“If we ever cross by her you have to tell me!” she was holding both of Brooke’s hands now, smiling at her. “Who could’ve gotten you so hard? I’m so curious!”

She looked so happy for her, so excited that Brooke had told her this. She probably wouldn’t let this go, would keep encouraging Brooke and being the wonderful friend she usually was. How painful would that be, watch Nina give her pep talk after pep talk while Brooke kept lying to her? Brooke didn’t think she could stand it.

“It’s you,” Brooke blurted out, watching as Nina’s smile faltered. She pulled her hands back, regretting it, regretting it so much.

“Huh? Oh, you’re just messing with me,” said Nina with a weird half-smile, swatting at Brooke’s arm.

Brooke smiled weakly. “I wish.” She looked away, trying to locate her bag. “Maybe it’s better if I just leave. Yeah, I can take some of these flyers and finish them at home,” she was already in motion to pick things up when Nina’s arm on hers stopped her.

“I don’t get it. You’re serious?” Nina sounded so confused. Brooke couldn’t look at her.

“Yes,” she said it looking down, daring to turn back to Nina only after a beat, meeting her frown and her beautiful eyes with a curtain of doubt in front of them.

“But I’m-” she didn’t finish, but Brooke could see the insecurities in her expression. She was confused, wary, and thinking things that did not belong in her head.

“You’re beautiful. So beautiful. And I don’t mean just on the inside.” Brooke took a step closer, against her better judgment. Nina was the same height as her, but suddenly it felt like she was shorter, smaller. “The way I feel about you, it’s-” she took a deep breath, lost for a moment in Nina’s eyes.

“Don’t play with me. This isn’t funny.”

“You don’t have to like me back, Nina, it’s okay. Really, I promise you. But please, don’t doubt that I do.” Brooke’s emotions were all over the place. She kind of wanted to hide, but at the same time, she couldn’t move.

“Have you been listening to me?” Nina’s voice was low, and she took a step closer, making Brooke’s breath hitch in her throat. Her hand went up to touch Brooke’s jaw, shakingly. Brooke’s eyes closed in their own accord, and she could feel Nina getting even closer. “Look at me.”

Brooke did, and she was so close. She almost couldn’t believe this was happening. Nina’s eyes focused down on her lips and suddenly Brooke’s mind was too cloudy to think anymore. She just reached up, framing Nina’s face before she closed the gap and brought their lips together.

Nina immediately pulled her closer, pressing their bodies against each other’s, and Brooke felt a shiver run down her spine. She heard a faint moan escaping her throat as her hands slid down Nina’s face to reach her neck, the kiss deepening as their tongues found one another’s, Nina’s hand moving to tangle in Brooke’s hair, her blunt nails raking her scalp deliciously.

Brooke arched against her, wanting to get closer, closer, so much so that Nina stepped back. It made their bodies be too far apart, and Brooke stepped closer again. They were so lost in it that they didn’t realize they were right next to the couch, and as Nina tried to walk back one more time, this time keeping a hand firm on Brooke’s back, her leg hit the couch and she stumbled down, taking Brooke with her.

They fell gracelessly on the cushions, Brooke on top of Nina, her face so close to her breasts that she felt dizzy. Nina started to laugh, her hand still in Brooke’s hair. Brooke laughed too, sitting up and taking in Nina’s swollen lips, faintly stained by Brooke’s lipstick. She couldn’t even fathom how she could have ever thought that Nina was less than gorgeous.

Brooke probably wasn’t smiling anymore, too entranced, and Nina sat up straight too. She looked insecure again, but Brooke didn’t even want to entertain it, and just leaned in to kiss her again. It was softer this time, and Nina sighed into it. Brooke moved to kiss her neck, sucking lightly at the skin and relishing in her smell. God, she’d pictured this so many times.

Nina’s hand was in her hair again, and Brooke was getting too hot. But this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. “I want to take you on a date,” said Brooke, leaning back to look at her face, not without some effort.

Nina smiled. “Yeah,” she nodded, capturing Brooke’s lips again. Her hand slid down Brooke’s side, slipping into Brooke’s shirt to grip her waist. Brooke thought she was going to combust.

“Wait,” said Brooke, breathless. “I don’t wanna rush into anything, I was serious when I said this wasn’t just about sex, Nina, I want to do this right.”

She was interrupted by Nina’s chuckle. “I’m sorry,” said Nina, covering her mouth. “You’re just so cute, protecting my honor.” She caressed Brooke’s cheek. She called Brooke cute. No big deal. “Let’s go slow then. But just to be clear, it’s not on my account.”

Nina wanted her. Brooke’s vagina was screaming at her right now, begging her to listen to reason. “So, if we, hm… You wouldn’t think I was using you?”

Nina looked a little taken aback. “This is fucking surreal,” she mumbled. “No, of course not.”

“Alright then.” Brooke was back on Nina’s neck in an instant, drawing a half-laughter, half-moan from her. Brooke could feel her clit practically setting off fireworks. She let her hands wander to cup Nina’s breasts over her clothes and God, she was so gay.

“Bed,” breathed Nina, and they scrambled to get up.

Nina pressed Brooke against a wall for a few minutes before they could reach her bedroom, kissing her silly while groping her ass, and Brooke couldn’t do anything but hold on.

–

Brooke loved curves, and Nina’s were the best she ever saw, let alone touch. Her breasts were a heavenly gift, and Brooke was sure she would never get tired of putting her mouth on them, nuzzling them, making them home. But Nina was soon squirming too much, and she moved on, kissing down her soft stomach, letting her hands trails down the curve of her waist and hips, massaging her thighs as her tongue worked past her belly button.

She groped Nina’s inner thighs, and the girl opened her legs for her. Brooke looked up as she let her thumbs graze the juncture between Nina’s thighs and her crotch, watching her breath hitch and her hands grip the sheets. Brooke stroked Nina’s folds teasingly, letting her eyes roam over her body as she did so. She dipped her fingers between them, finding wetness and heat, and kept stroking as she watched Nina’s hooded eyes close and her heavy breathing become tiny moans as her body waved against Brooke’s hand.

Brooke surged up to kiss her, straddling her thigh as her hand kept going, now drawing wide circles around her clit. Nina pulled her close, trying to kiss back and grope Brooke but getting sided-tracked by her own pleasure, letting out huffs of breath and stopping her hands mid-movement as she just felt.

Brooke was rutting against her leg, holding back her own moans as her fingers worked with increased precision on Nina’s clit. It was getting harder and harder for Nina to keep from making any noise, and Brooke never felt prouder of herself. She moved to suck on Nina’s neck, her own rutting growing more intense.

“Don’t stop,” whispered Nina with a sinful, delicious moan, tugging on Brooke’s hair. It was so hot Brooke thought she would end up coming first, but Nina kept moaning and with a few more strokes she came, arching out of the bed and opening her mouth in a perfect “o,” a guttural sound escaping her throat.

Brooke touched her through it, keeping it firm and slow, watching her face as she rode her orgasm. Once Nina opened her eyes again, Brooke retrieved her hand and kissed her, feeling Nina’s hand snake down her body to slot in between her legs, stroking Brooke hard and fast while they kissed. It didn’t take long at all for Brooke to come too, biting Nina’s lip and convulsing over her body, one hand holding Nina’s juicy tit in a deadly grip.

Brooke collapsed down on the bed, a smile planted on her lips that she was sure was never going away. Nina snuggled against her, resting her head on her chest and throwing an arm over her waist. Brooke started combing through her hair, sleep creeping up on her. Nina’s smell was intoxicating, and she closed her eyes, dozing off while thinking that she definitely could get used to this.

–

“HI, DIVA.”

Brooke was already working on the sewing machine when Nina arrived for the workshop. She stopped pressing down the pedal to watch her and Meatball doing their tongue thing, that Brooke still didn’t get, but chuckled at every time. Then, Nina went to Sasha, kissing their cheek and exchanging a few words with them before finally walking towards Brooke.

“Hey, baby,” said Nina, giving Brooke a peck.

“Hi,” said Brooke, smiling. That’s right, she’s my girlfriend, she felt like stating, even though it was just their friends in the room with them. It had been a month, and Brooke still wasn’t over it.

Meatball made a puking sound in the background, and Nina giggled.

“Jealous much?” said Brooke, turning back to her sewing.

“Suck my dick,” said Meatball, not even bothering to look away from her computer.

“Don’t mind if I do,” said Detox, coming in the room at exactly the right time, surprising Brooke into laughter and making Meatball flush red.

[honestsycrets]

Jin-Woo

❛ pairing | ivar x reader, anxious oc: jin woo x doom and despair

❛ word count | 1403

❛ genre | one shot, mostly funnies

❛ summary | ivar’s secretary jin woo is concerned ivar isn’t getting his fuck buddy anything special, so, he takes on the task

❛  warnings | ivar in shit, jin woo in shit, everyone in shit

“Should I get something for (Y/N) today?”

Everyone had been asking him that. Not a big deal for others, maybe, but you weren’t his wife. You weren’t even his girlfriend! Just a piece of ass-- no, a fuck buddy. Was that the right term? Ivar straightens out his silky tie, debating just exactly what his fuck buddy said. He glances back to his secretary as he walks in.

“Why would I, Jin-Woo?” Ivar glaces up from the tablet he was working on. Jin shuffles in his place, looking down to the calendar of Ivar’s schedule. It was bound to be a busy day for him with a schedule filled up until six at the very least.

“It’s Valentine’s day, chairman.” Jin says.

“So?”

“She might be expecting something?” He asks. “It is Valentines day.”

“She is not my wife.” Ivar rolls his eyes as he walks away from his desk out toward the double doors. They spread apart with a whirl. “Just get her some roses.”

“But-- but she’s allergic to roses.” Jin-Woo follows him. Ivar motions to his well tailored grey suit fixing a notch in Ivar’s black tie. It sits just underneath his grey vest and atop of a white button up, tailored nicely to his body.

“Then chocolate.”

“But-- shouldn’t it be more intimate?” He asks.

“I buy her purses and dresses all the time.” Ivar says. Despite the fact that it was Jin-Woo who did most of the shopping on Ivar’s part.

“If you want to get her something, knock yourself out. Get your wife something pretty while you’re at it.” Ivar steps into the elevator, shoving Jin-Woo back out of it. “I have more important things to do than to worry about her.”

“Aish.” He hisses. “What do I get?”

This was more stressful than getting his own wife something. Which, shit! He hadn’t done that either. He grabs his bag and whizzes out the door. The first place that he had on his mind was a higher end shop.

He was only in for minutes when he caught sight of you bobbing around the corner. Stupidly he dropped under one of the tables, hand in his short black hair swept over his eye. His tie hung between his black slacks, almost touching the pale white tiles of the floor. A pair of black high heels stops in front of the table behind them-- and he knows those cute black pedicured toes to be yours.

“Jin-Woo?”

“Damn it...” He curses under his breath, slipping out from under the table and standing at his full height. He clears his throat and adjusts his tie, jamming his hand into his pocket.

“Miss (L/N).” He says nervously, running his wet tongue over cracked lips. He searches for the right excuse as her hands come to intertwine over her chest. The man beside her slides his hand into his pocket but otherwise says nothing.

“What are you going here?” She asks.

“Um, I.” He stutters. “I came to get my wife something.”

“Did you?” She says. “They aren’t out of your pay grade?”

Owch. He winces at that one, trying his best to just smile. He knows that normally that would have been true but-- he had a great boss. As a hard worker himself, he was afforded things that other people wouldn’t have gotten. He knows you could hardly care about what Ivar allowed him to get. Jin-Woo was a small little fish in comparison to the big one, Ivar. He lets a heavy breath loose choosing to take the path of honesty.

“I came to find you something.” He admits.

“Oh, are you?” She runs her hands through her hair. “What are you getting me this year?”

“This year?” He stutters. “You know?”

“Of courses I know. I know what he likes-- and more than half the time it’s not the puffy cute things you buy.”

More than half the time it would be cute little baby dolls, panties and bras that were puffy and light. Sure, certainly that could be Ivar’s taste, but more mature. Jin-Woo loved gentle princessy pink things for his wife.

“Sorry.” He bends his head.

Ivar was going to kill him. Forget his job-- when he found out about this, he was in trouble. After a brief few seconds, you ran your cherry red nails up and down his black suit jacket. He swallows after a good few minutes and looks to the nearby table where a pink baby doll with red hearts sits.

“Uh…” He stutters. “This one?”

“It’s pretty girly, isn’t it?” You say, placing it back on his arm. “But I do suppose that’s your taste for your wife.”

“You’re not angry?” Jin-Woo says furthermore.

“Oh of course I am. Just not with you.” You tap his nose with your finger and then move to another area. “Now this one is more my taste!”

Oh god, he’s going to be fired.

“I knew it would fall through!” Ivar laughs in his chair, swiveling it around to look at the night lights surrounding the bright lights that lit up several different buildings. “Yes-- yes, I’ll make it on the nearest flight.”

His phone vibrates along the call. He pulls his phone away from his ear enough to look at the notification.

Jin-Woo I’m sorry!

It doesn’t occur to him until he looks up to the reflection of the window. Behind him the doors gave a soft whizz. Between them, he definitely recognizes that it isn’t his dopey little secretary who walked in.

“...I’m going to have to call you back, Josue.” He turns off the phone and whizzes around in his chair. His eyebrow perks up as your heels click closer and closer. The coat you wear is pulled tight, knotted into a little bow. Not a sight of a dress is underneath-- and curiously Ivar looks toward your soft legs.

“Hm.” He tosses his phone on his desk. “What are you doing, (Y/N)?”

You beeline straight toward him, fiddling with the knot on your waist. Ivar turns his head deliberately slowly, watching the coat fall from your body. The cherry satin, strappy two piece with scalloped lace tickles him just the right way. You reach out to fist his tie around your closed fist, holding him so tightly that you can feel the knot along his throat. You straddle his hips, drawing him in against your lips.

“You know I like you, don’t you, Ivar?”

He leans forward, stealing a small kiss from your lips. It was evident that he must have too.

“Mhm, that is why I bought you that, (Y/N).” He runs his fingers over the delicate red scalloped lace, falling to your ass. He grabs a handful, dropping his head back because fuck if he’s not going to have a good night.

“Oh you like it?” You ask.

“Of course I do. Your ass in that…”

“Thank you.” You smile. “Jin Woo got it for me.”

What. He leans back, a small drop in his lips when it all comes together. His tongue courses along the side of his lip, struggling to come up with an answer. Usually he was more composed, always with an excuse.

“I might have been too busy today.” He answers. You lift your hand up into his hair to grip his short strands of hair. It was, after all, a special day. You don’t know what you were expecting… but it hadn’t been that.

“I shouldn’t have expected more.” You lean in, laying a kiss upon his lips. “It does look nice on me, doesn’t it?”

“You aren’t angry?”

“It’s not like you’re my boyfriend, right? You’ve done nothing to deserve it.”

The words are dry. He leans back in his chair and fights with the right words to agree that-- yeah, he isn’t a boyfriend. He shouldn’t feel obligated to do shit! At the same time even as a fuckbuddy… those words sound like he’s not deserving of being more to you. Ivar turns down his blue eyes, nostrils flaring.

“Let’s go to your house.” You wink and dismount his lap and offer him your hand. You caught the cute little pout in his lip. If you didn’t know betterr, you would have thought that your words set him alight. “We have to ‘christen’ the lingerie.”

The last message to Jin Woo that night was trouble.

Ivar Ragnarsson I’m going to kill you.

@igetcarriedawaywithyou, @kylobien, @titty-teetee, @breathlessouls, @nejijjeoroo, @bcat1291, @readsalot73, @mslothbrok, @romanchronicles, @captstefanbrandt, @ailucascen, @michaeliskindahot, @cbouvier23, @naaladareia, @cbouvier23, @the-geeky-engineer, @dorned, @lisinfleur, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @tephi101, @akamaiden, @ethereallysimple, @venusloviing, @happylittlepuppydog, @beyond-the-ashes, @slutforrpg, @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns, @mixedwiththemoon, @sparklemichele, @alicedopey, @lif3snotouttogetyou, @rubyquartzshades, @noregretsandyeteveryregret, @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @deathbyarabbit, @unacceptabletatertots, @beyond-the-ashes (no sig), @babypink224221, @ivarandersen, @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @icarus-fell-in-spring, @end-of-night, @gruffle1, @lol-haha-joke@arses21434,  @smileyparrots, @Moosemittens13, @miss-artemis-wild, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @wonderwoman292, @wish-i-was-a-mermaid, @fangirls94, @mcuimxgine, @killerb00sdeath, @heartbeats-wildly, @boo20017, @acacheofstrange, @shaelyn102, @astoryoffireandlight, @smokealone, @shaelyn102 @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope,  @chinduda

[dancing-deacon]

Let Me Be Your Lover Boy(Part 7)

BoRhap!Roger Taylor x Reader

Summary: When an undesirable meeting with Roger Taylor knocks you off your feet, the drummer will do anything to get you to fall for him.

(A/N) SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT! I’m not exactly sure how to feel about this chapter tbh I wasn’t really inspired at all and have had horrible writers block. I’m planning on the next chapter being the end so we almost there haha. Here’s to hoping my writer’s block goes away.

Warnings: swearing, references to sex

Get Caught Up! Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Masterlist

“She’s never late.” Deaky states, stomach growling at the banana nut muffin in front of him, waiting to be digested. “Should we go see if she’s awake? We did get back pretty late last night.”

Brian puts down his tea cup and scoots forward on his chair, about to push off to go get you from your room. But Freddie launches up before him, hand on his chest to hold him down.

“I’ll go get her.” He says enthusiastically. He was putting up a front, he heard it all the night before, for his room was next door to yours. He barely slept from hearing yours and Roger’s moans. Knowing Roger for years, Freddie has overheard his conquests on tours more than not. But this time, it sounded different. He couldn’t place it in his mind.

Freddie felt the other side of the wall pound with every shake of the bed. Inches separating you from the singer. This means he also heard the argument. The cries from deep in your throat as you rejected Roger, breaking his heart. Freddie can recall the shake of the room with the powerful slam of the door, followed by heavy quick footsteps trailing down the hall, far away from the room he knew Roger was supposed to be occupying.

For hours after, all Freddie could hear from his bed was your muffled cries, hours of cries. Each yell of bastard, asshole, dickhead coming from deep in your soul. It wasn’t his place to intrude at the time, but you not showing up for breakfast as you always do was the final straw.

Without another word to Brian or John, he exits the dining room in a haste, ready to finally confront you about Roger.

Frantic knocking on the door jolts your eyes open. Your eyelids peel apart, crust poking the corners. Your back screams in pain as you struggle to sit up from the floor, where you had crumpled down a few hours ago knees pinned to your chest when you couldn’t manage to hold yourself up anymore. Flashes of the argument have been repeating in your mind all night.

Minutes after Roger stormed out of your room, you regretted every word out of your mouth. The truth is, you don’t know what you want. You didn’t know during the fight, all that was coming out of your mouth was panicked words, afraid of the world. Afraid of someone growing close to you in any way. You haven’t had a group of people you’ve grown so close to so fast, the fear of losing that was deafening in your head at that moment. Roger didn’t understand that though, not that you explained it well at all.

The knocking didn’t stop. You crouch up onto your knees, aching as you make your way onto your feet, using your bed as support. Each knock from the other side of the door throws your mind back, the steady bumping of your bed against your wall as you rode Roger, taking him in fully. Faster and faster until you screamed his name in ecstasy. Soon after, screaming his name in anger.

You shuffle your feet along the carpet, stepping on your array of crumpled tissues that stick to your feet, not bothering to remove them. Without looking through the peephole, you crack the door open. Before you even peak around the door, a hand grasps the edge, pushing it far open.

Freddie stands there, a concerned look on his face. His mind void of anything but you, standing in front of him, hunched over, arms wrapped around your stomach, grasping your shirt for dear life. Freddie pulls you into his arms upon peering at your puffy raw face. “Darling, tell me everything.”

You break into a dry sob, your body shakes in Freddie’s arms, which wrap around your shoulders even harder. He strokes your matted hair with his hand, shushing you gently. No tears left your eyes, so you stand there, gasping for breaths. Listening to Freddie’s hushes and feeling his breathing you attempt to match it.

“I fucked up.” Is all you can choke out, between deep gasps for breaths.

“If I’m being honest, I think you both fucked up.” Freddie admits. You knew he was right.

You move your hands to Freddie’s chest, pushing off him to stand on your own two feet. “What?”

“I heard everything.” He nods his head to the wall your bed rests against. “Thin walls.” He gives a small smile, letting you know you can be open with him. He won’t leave your side.

Stepping to the side you sit yourself onto the bed, sheets still thrown about from your sex with Roger. Freddie immediately follows suit, placing his hand on top of yours on your lap.

“I don’t want to lose you…or Brian or Deaks.” You say quietly, staring at your toes, “or my job, or my privacy.” Each phrase comes out quicker and louder.

“Woah, woah, slow down, dear.” Freddie squeezes your hand. “Do you really think you’d lose any of that with Roger?”

You shrug your shoulders, unknowing if your beliefs are true or if your mind is thinking in overdrive.

Freddie breaks the silence, whispering soulfully, “He would never allow that. We would never allow that.” Freddie thinks for a moment, you turn to him, waiting for more consolation. His deep brown eyes stare into yours and he brings his face close, “Roger wants the world for you, he would do anything to make you comfortable.”

“I thought this was all a big secret.” You say, giving a small laugh at the ridiculous thought.

Freddie gives a hearty laugh, bringing his arm around your shoulders and squeezing you in close. “(Y/N), he has been drooling over you since he laid eyes on you in that alley. I’m surprised you fell for the bastard yourself,” he jokes.

“It was a mistake, I shouldn’t have jeopardized what I have with the band.” You shake your head in frustration.

“I know you probably don’t want my opinion but I’m going to say it anyway. You didn’t. If you want to screw Roger go ahead. It won’t change our feelings towards you. Hell, it’ll even make Roger happy.” He pauses. “You know, he’s changed since you’ve been around. Good change.” He adds.

You nod your head, taking to heart what Freddie said. “Freddie, I think I need to stay here and think today, is that alright?” You don’t have many plans today except some outing with the band, but you think seeing Roger this soon will only end badly. You need time to figure out what you want, how you feel, and what to say to him.

“Of course. I will check up on you later.” Freddie kisses your temple and heads towards the door. Glancing to the side he noticed your jacket, the hole uncovered and much larger than before. Freddie turns back to you, “I’ll fix that when we get home, with a color that doesn’t remind you of Roger this time.”

Shaking your head in disbelief with a small smile, he bloody knew the entire time.

---

Moments after Freddie left the room in a hast, Deaky reaches out for his muffin, taking a large bite out of it. Brian rolls his eyes at his actions.

“They’ll be a while he has to go all the way upstairs and I’m starving!” Deaky defends, small bits of the muffin falling from his lips and onto his pants.

Brian shrugs and goes to grab one as well but is interrupted by the harsh opening of the door. Brian and John snap their necks to see Roger, heavy stepping and wobbling towards them, an empty stare on his face. They notice his eyes, dark and heavy, clear signs he hadn’t slept nor had a good night.

“What the hell happened to you?” Brian asks, more joking than concerned, ready for a crazy story.

“Shut the hell up.” Roger spits out, eyes black as he stared daggers at Brian, who sat back, tight lipped and embarrassed.

Roger plops down onto the chair across from them, laying back arms across his chest, staring at the ceiling. John leans forward, concerned. “Roger, what happened after the concert last night?” His voice anxious.

Roger lets out a large exhale, staying silent otherwise.

Brian pipes up again. “Roger, we know something isn’t alright, we aren’t idiots.”

“I am though,” Roger yells out, bringing his hands up to his face. “I fucked up, big time.”

Deaky and Brian share a look, scooching to the edge of their seats. Leaning in to hear about Roger’s mistakes, as he usually excels at executing his plans.

Roger sits forward to match them, staring at the ground. “I got with (Y/N) last night before the concert.” He speaks, interrupted by John’s comment of

“That’s why your shirt was miraculously gone in a short time.” He teases, knowing full well it was noticed.

Brian chimes in with more teasing, “Yeah and the bloody enormous grin on his face. That and his tempo was off half the time.”

Roger just shakes his head, heart too heavy to join in on the banter. “Anyways…” he says a little annoyed, “It happened again last night.” He takes a long pause, “but after…I said I wanted to tell you all and for her to be mine. She didn’t take it well.” Roger racks his brain of the reasons you gave him, none of them being good enough excuses to him.

“Rog, I’m sorry.” John states sympathetically.

“Maybe she was tired and didn’t mean it,” Brian tries to reason. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”

Roger stares up from the floor finally and into the concerned and caring faces of his bandmates.

Brian continues, “The night you met, you passed out in the van. Even though she was pissed off at you, she gawked at you in the van, it was like she saw a freaking god.” Roger lets out a small smile, thinking about how he wanted to worship you, rather than you him.

Deaky chimes in immediately after Brian, “or the dopey in love look on her face when she sniffed those flowers you got her.”

Brian gives another point, “The way she hugged you after the show. We all saw it. She looked like she was on a cloud, the smile she had was unlike I’ve seen before, from anyone. Hell, even from John’s wife!”

“Hey!” Deaky grunts. Roger gives a small smile, thinking about your beautiful face and the particular way your lips curled up when he walked into the room. Or the subtle eye roll you’d do at any of his poorly times jokes. Or your eyes gleaming and watching into his so intently any time he got lost in talking about music.

“Give her a chance to cool off. An initial reaction isn’t always the reaction they mean. It’s a panic, “Brian reasons.

Roger nods his head. “Will you guys help me with showing her how much I love her?” Roger asks quietly, thinking he has never said his feelings out loud before.

John and Brian’s mouth grows into an extra-large smile, “If it’s love then of course we will.”

Roger leans back again, rubbing his eyes hard with the palms of his hands. His brain starts running, knowing the next time he will see you, he will either be greeted one of two ways, with love or with hate.

Taglist  @emmadarling20 @sunnnymercury @roger-taylor-stole-my-heart @blissfully-queen @anita-e-taylor @mrs-rogertaylor @emma-worthington @jennycidesstuff @rogerswig @roger-taylor-owns-my-wigg @perriwiinkle 

[toonstarterz]

BECAUSE I’M NOT POPULAR, I’LL READ WATAMOTE: CHAPTER #138

Welcome to the first episode of Tomoko’s Speed Dating Arc! Our first contender is the resident “shy maiden”, Yuri Tamura. Her hobbies include listening to music and punching people. Today’s date will include a walk around a college campus, lunch at a local eatery, and shopping for new digs. How will Tomoko fair against this unreadable cutie? 

Find out right after the break! 

Chapter 138: Because I’m Not Popular, I’ll Check Out Colleges

My only comment here is what in the name of all that is good is with Yuri’s big ass purse?

In Tomoko’s eyes, Mako may as well be Yuri’s shadow, so it’s totally understandable that she’d be shocked that the girl came alone this time. Of course, Yuri’s lack of self-awareness means she didn’t even consider how that might throw people off.

There she goes again with the “same as me” comment to put her and Tomoko in the same boat. Little does she know that being in Tomoko’s boat is guaranteed to end in a mutual sinking.

Just look at these fashionable ladies in their adorable outfits. Tomoko, obviously, putting extra emphasis on the “casual” with her loose-fitting clothes and trademark hat to cover that shaggy hair. Then we have Yuri, super reserved with her puffy sleeves, plaid skirt with a screentone pattern that doesn’t hug the fabric at all; and her socks n’ sandals combo.

One thing to note is how they do the opposite of their uniforms regarding skin exposure. The long skirt-wearing Tomoko now has her bare legs visible, whereas the short skirt-wearing Yuri only has her knees exposed. Perhaps it’s a matter of self-confidence between a private (school) vs public setting. Tomoko has no issue showing more skin to strangers, while Yuri would feel self-conscious displaying herself to people other than close friends.

Or, you know, I’m just overthinking it again. 

Chiba West University: Where the Adibas-wearing students go to drink coffee at Sudobucks while doing homework on their Marosoft PCs.  

As encouraging as Yuri makes this sound, a part of me thinks that Yuri is also pushing herself so she can one-up Nemo and Katou. Hey, a little pettiness can be a good motivator.

Post Traumatic Ogino Disorder triggered.

Yuri-sensei would be an absolutely adorable teacher. Unfortunately, her quiet demeanor would make it easy for the little kiddos to walk all over her. Luckily, what she lacks in assertiveness…

...she makes up for in unjustified corporal punishment.

How refreshing it is that Yuri doesn’t automatically get annoyed by Tomoko’s opinion, and instead asks for her reasoning. Though Tomoko may be an idiot, it’s nice to see that Yuri recognizes that her friend is intelligent in ways that she isn’t.

Word for word from the Ogino’s Meddling Career Counseling chapter. I’m starting to think Tomoko will eat these words one way.

Hey, c’mon now, Tomoko. You used to be quite the stupid preteen yourself.

But in all seriousness, this assertion makes perfect sense for Tomoko. Her personality is one that is very incompatible with itself, hence her rivalry with Komi-something. Having to deal with hormonal and emotionally vulnerable middle schoolers would probably hit too close to home.

AHAHAHAHA, I’m totally not guilty of having thought the same thing when I was in high school...haha.

But you know, this harks back to what Nemo said about girls that act like a hive mind. When you do something to break away from the group’s dynamic, you become the “outsider”. The friend the other ones don’t necessarily hate, but are often ignored simply because they’re unlike the others.

In other words, you become the Ucchi.

Isn’t it obvious, Tomoko? She just wanted you to think that you both have more in common than you might’ve thought. Even if it means some opportunistic fibbing.

Given what we’ve seen between Yuri and Mako’s friendship, it’s both surprising and not surprising that Yuri doesn’t know about Mako’s career goals. We like to think that as BFFs, Yuri would know more, but as recent chapters have shown, Yuri doesn’t necessarily put in as much into the friendship as Mako does.

This may be the first clue to suggest that Tomoko could overtake Mako’s role as Yuri’s best friend.

So cults on campus have started to become a thing, eh? I really do enjoy these little details that show how even university life isn’t all flowers and sunshine. If the series ever extends into Tomoko’s college life, this would be an interesting field for her to maneuver around.

It must be said, the detail in this background of the campus courtyard(?) is very well done. The perspective really keys into how expansive it must be. I sure wouldn’t be surprised if Nico Tanigawa went and visited some colleges themselves as a reference for drawing up these upcoming chapters.

Unless you go to one of those party schools, the idea that college students are a bunch of wild social butterflies is false. In my experience, university kids are more reserved in their everyday life because being a rowdy bunch is too financially/socially expensive. They simply don’t have the luxury of being super extroverted all the time. If you have the means to go to a prestigious school, then you’re going to be doing a lot of studying. And if you go to a party college, then partying is what you’re going to end up doing. Such is the nature of the millennial.

Yuri’s dilemma is linked to a common issue revolving around the purpose of school: Do you go there to learn book smarts or street smarts? What is more important, knowledge or networking? For someone with low ambitions like Yuri, having to make a long-lasting commitment like what type of college life you desire can be a huge burden on one’s shoulders, especially when people expect you chose for reasons that go against your very nature.

But yes, Tomoko’s reasoning is incredibly sound,  and one yours truly learned the hard way. A major fallacy in the job hunting process is that employers are more likely to hire people who are more outgoing or easy to work with than someone more knowledgeable but less socially experienced. This practice is often quoted as “It’s not what you know, its who you know”, and can be a real obstacle for introverts like Tomoko and Yuri.  

I appreciate how the frame focuses on this young lady to the side when Tomoko talks about studious college kids. Everyone knows the model of a good university student is a slim, bespectacled lady in a conservative skirt who secretly lewds the brothers from Osomatsu-san and drowns her troubles in beer.

Also, I see you casually smiling there, Yuri. Just like the old days.   

How sweet! Thanks to Tomoko’s reassurance, Yuri lets loose her earnest insecurities, openly declaring how much Tomoko’s presence means to her. Surely even Tomoko would not be so blind as to ignore such–nevermind.

I’m suddenly reminded just how long it’s been since the first field trip arc. No way Tomoko would make the same mistake twice, right?

Phew, thank goodness!

Bull. Shit. You totally were.

Whaaaat? Tomoko watches normie programs and not just otaku-pandering anime? Like, omigawd how can I relate my own degenerate lifestyle to Tomoko if she has slightly positive attributes?

Ah, Yoshida. For being such a transparent, pure-hearted delinquent, even she isn’t the type to make people feel terrible right in front of them. I had a feeling that Yoshida and Yuri would talk about Tomoko behind her back, especially in the earlier chapters. Not maliciously like Minami, but disconcertedly. Cause let’s face it, you’re bound to get uneasy when you hang out with Tomoko for the first time.

I’ve always wondered, what’s Yuri’s take on the whole “Yoshida is a delinquent,” business? Nearly everyone else can agree that Yoshida has delinquent tendencies, even if they aren’t as vocal about it as Tomoko. But Yuri has, to my knowledge, neither agreed nor disagreed with this sentiment. Perhaps that just means Yoshida’s yankee-ness is inconsequential for Yuri. Whether she is or isn’t, Yuri isn’t about to treat Yoshida any differently than she has before.

NOTICE: We regret to inform you that ToonStarterz nearly broke his laptop trying to give a fictional character a comforting hug through the monitor. He’ll be back shortly after contemplating his life choices. 

Only Tomoko can take the image of Yoshida as some kind of gangbanger and spin it into an encouraging speech for Yuri. What glorious trash she be.

Yeah, Tomoko’s mind has always been a little warped, as Yuri once thought. She always seems to take a little too much pleasure in seeing the depravity/vices of others, like how she wanted to have lunch with Hirasawa just to hear about her supposed sexual exploits. As Tomoko becomes more comfortable in her own skin and comes to terms with her own degeneracy, her delight in seeing it in others could be her own twisted sense of empathy at play.

Despite everything, I think Tomoko has more or less stopped acting condescending towards Yoshida’s delinquent status. Nowadays, she views that side of Yoshida with an air of fondness, even spinning it into something positive for Yuri’s sake. It’s a development that actually works for Tomoko and Yoshida’s friendship. Tomoko hasn’t really stopped accosting her, but she’s managed to entertain herself through it. Thankfully, Yoshida’s proven that much of Tomoko’s shittiness doesn’t really bother her, and even seems to gravitate towards those kinds of friends.

And best of all, it’s that frankness from Tomoko and Yoshida that inspires Yuri out of her bubble of inaction. 

That-a-girl, Yuri. Show her how reliable you can be. 

Still, she needs to learn that friendship isn’t just a give-and-take. Sometimes you end up having to give and NOT take just to stay afloat. Meeting them halfway isn’t always viable, but in true friendship, the other person knows how that feels too, meaning you can reach an equilibrium because of that mutual imbalance.

Even though Yuri is not one to give out half-hearted sympathies, when she does understand you, her empathy levels are top-notch. 

The last 137 chapters of the series flashed before the readers’ minds.

There’s a Moment in every good manga where the main character will say or do something that instantly endears them to you. That makes you think, “This is so me!” or “#ourgirl”. For a series that’s as socially aware as this is, Tomoko rejecting a purchase simply because she doesn’t want to give in to a higher entity’s persuasion is one of those key Moments. Stay woke, Tomoko.

If it were from anybody else, I feel like Tomoko would have gotten ticked off over a comment like that. Perhaps its because it’s Yuri, and Tomoko knows she isn’t the teasing type, and therefore, must be genuinely convinced that it wouldn’t fit Tomoko’s style.

And Yuri’s role as the replacement Yuu officially begins. Sorry, Ucchi.

As disturbing as it sounds, getting harassed by Tomoko like this is actually a mark which symbolizes that Tomoko’s gotten comfortable enough with you to see you as a close friend. Yuu’s the only one to have this, er, “privilege”, and I can’t help but find that freakishly meaningful.

Has Watamote seriously reached a high enough standard that simply wearing a cold shoulder top is enough to be considered fanservice?

Yes. Yes, it has.

Many of us readers were waiting for the moment when Tomoko realizes that Yuri is actually pretty sex...er, beautiful (sorry, calling Yuri “sexy” or “hot” just feels WRONG to me). This may mean that Tomoko is going to start lewding the girl in her mind. Now considering that Tomoko is all bark and no bite, that might actually be flattering to some degree. Maybe.

Ah, good times. Good...times.

I see, so it’s not actually the perving on girls that Tomoko enjoys. It’s the thrill of seeing someone swim in dangerous waters. The contrast between goodness and “badness” which inevitably leads to a firecracker display of embarrassment that Tomoko eats up like the nasty she is.

Once again, we’re reminded why Tomoko had trouble making friends in the first place.

I’m actually glad that Tomoko is under no illusions. This behavior is scummy, and she knows it. That said, she has her self-serving limits. By mentioning how she couldn’t do this before with the others, she knows that harassing normies like Nemo or punks like Yoshida would lead to her downfall. Whereas Yuri, whom Tomoko suddenly realized is a “pure n’ plain” girl, would likely not retaliate too much from a little sexual harassment. 

Doesn’t mean she won’t push her luck.  

You tend to forget that for being a quiet, introverted girl, Yuri is no pushover. She won’t go out of her way to actively antagonize you (usually), but when you try to push her into something she disagrees with, she’s solid as a rock. 

Take that, readers! Nico Tanigawa ain’t about to throw you two bones in one chapter.

I...wouldn’t put it past her. But that may actually be why Yuri has been so essential to Tomoko’s growth. Tomoko’s friendship with Yuu is solid, but Yuu’s sweetness was a crutch. Because Yuu accepts Tomoko wholeheartedly, the latter never had any motivation to really change herself. Yuri openly disapproves of Tomoko’s negative qualities, and it’s ultimately made the girl a slightly better friend.  

Sometimes, Nico Tanigawa uses the manga medium to their fullest advantage. In this case, playing with the dialogue and speakers. There’s nothing to indicate who’s saying this monologue. But that’s exactly it:

Both Tomoko and Yuri are thinking about this. These concerns and desires are applicable to each of them. Different as they are on the outside, they are, emotionally, more similar than they ever realized. 

This is a common defense mechanism for introverts. To avoid a blow to their self-esteem, they don’t put high expectations on their social lives. That way, they won’t be disappointed should those friendships drift apart. 

But sometimes, you meet some people. Maybe even just one person who you just click with. You can’t imagine drifting away from them because you feel like you lose so much. And suddenly, the protectiveness you feel by keeping everyone at a distance is penetrated by the very few who you’ve managed to embrace. Then you realize, late as Tomoko often does, that the path of least resistance is no longer viable. All that’s left is to march down the path full of risks if it means you get to keep what’s at the end of the rainbow.

Without a doubt...

The. 

Sweetest. 

Moment. 

EVER.

Nowadays, the chapters of Watamote end in one of two ways. A cringy, but non-meanspirited gag, or a bittersweet, but heartwarming self-reflection. The last one happens sporadically, or it’d start to lose its meaning, which is exactly what we get here. Tomoko is not an overly (deludedly, in the past) optimistic person. She’s more of a realist now. But when faced with a thought that hits the middle of being optimistic or pessimistic, Tomoko will steer more towards the latter. It’s a much healthier mindset that stays grounded in reality, but looks more towards the bright side. She didn’t have to call Yuri by her first name. But a small part of her told her that maybe, just maybe, getting a little closer to Yuri would lead their relationship towards something more.

This chapter really set the bar for Tomoko’s Golden Week. Let’s see how Nemoto and Katou fair following a tough act like that. 

[purplesurveys]

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Do you have artistic friends? If so, have you got their artwork displayed? I do have many of them but if I wanted an artwork from them I have to pay for it, which I have no complaints about because that’s how it’s supposed to be. Gabie dabbles in everything–including painting–so I’ve got a postcard-sized work of hers up on my wall. If there's a flag pole in your vicinity, does it look filthy? I’m in school and I know there’s a flagpole in the auditorium downstairs. I don’t think it looks filthy. Have you ever considered pole dancing? Why/why not? No. I can’t dance. Did you know that there's competitive pole dancing? I wouldn’t be surprised if there is. They make everything competitive now, even texting. What's the last thing you fixed yourself? If it counts, the Internet hadn’t been working recently so I restarted the router. Not a lot of fixing involved but at least it gave back our internet haha.

Have you ever been on IRC (Internet Relay Chat)? I have never heard of that before. I may have used that without knowing what it’s called, but you’ll have to tell me what that is. If you've ever played the Mass Effect games, name some of your favorite moments? I don’t play video games. Have you ever made a cheesecake using gelatin? I’ve never made cheesecake period. Are there any CDs you've held onto for sentimental reasons? Yes. All my Beyonce ones look like they’ve survived the war and more. I have her first five albums – Lemonade is a bitch to find in CD stores. Did you read the Barbie magazines with comics made with the actual dolls? I don’t think I ever encountered Barbie magazines. If you grew in the 90s, did you ever wear those jelly or platform shoes? I probably had a pair or two as a kid. ^Did you wear belly button shirts, too? Not sure what that is. Is my Gen Z showing? Hahaha. ^Or slap bracelets? I was crazy for those. I had so many designs. ^Or the soda can earrings? No. When you were a teenager, did people go crazy over those Stabilo pens? I think people would go crazy over Stabilo whatever age they were. What's the last thing you knitted? Nope nope nope nope NOPE. Have you noticed how quickly years just fly by these days? Yes. It’s a really depressing thought. Did you know, that IMDb is 28 years old already? Yo what the fuck? Have you heard the song, Short Change Hero by The Heavy? No I haven’t. If you haven't, how easily could you give up watching regular TV? Pretty easily as long as I’m not attached to a show. I like Brooklyn Nine-Nine now, so I’d find it hard to give that up. ^ If you already have, where do you get your entertainment regularly? I’d get it usually from YouTube and Netflix. Which Trivial Pursuit category are you best at? Entertainment or history. How many languages can you speak well enough to use to be understood? Two. The most creative use for any type of modern technology you can think of? [continued from 3ish days ago] Nope, still can’t think of any haaaah. If you watched Fresh Prince of Bel Air, who was your favourite character? Where's the farthest you've been from home? Japan. How long have you had an Internet presence for? We’ve had internet in the house since I was like 2 (that was in 2000), but my parents didn’t really let me use it a lot until I was 9, or in 2007. That makes it 12 years. Who was your first online friend? Not so sure. I joined a forum for like young girls when I was 10, so the first friend I made was probably from there. Do you have any friends who live abroad? I don’t know how to answer this question because what usually happens is that when they move abroad, we communicate less and less until it just becomes a “Talk to you when you visit back to the Philippines” kind of thing. That’s what happened with Angel, Andi, and Aubrey. Social media has made it easier cos I still follow all of them and like their posts from time to time, but we don’t really TALK-talk anymore, unless they come back and we arrange reunions. How long have you known the friend you've known the longest for? 14 years. Why do you take surveys? Be honest. There’s something so therapeutic about writing about yourself or your day, and it also helps with self-reflecting or finding out new things about yourself. Have you ever had to rely on relatives for help? I’ve been relying on my parents financially for 21 years... Peruse your bookshelf. Which genre dominates? Mmm I haven’t read much since middle school so there’s a lot of teenage and young adult reads that remain in my collection like the Percy Jackson series. But technically I read auto-/biographies the most. Do you have any plants in your home? Yes, but my mom takes care of them.  Does mail get delivered to your door or do you have a mailbox outside? It gets attached to our door. Your doorbell rings out of the blue. What's your reaction? If I’m alone at home, I ignore it so they’d think that there’s no one around. But if there’s someone else in the house I ask them to take it. What's your favourite place to go to eat? I don’t have a favorite since I get sick of usuals very fast - I try to change my orders every time I repeat restaurants. I do love Japanese restaurants. If you got a gift card for 50 [your currency], what would you get? Hahahahaha damn. 50 pesos isn’t really worth anything. I’d probably be able to get a regular order of fries at McDonald’s? When do you have to renew your passport? I’m not sure. How old will you be in 2065? 67. Are you good at trivia games? I think I’m relatively better than people my age? My dad bought me a ton of encyclopedias as a kid so I spent all my days stocking up so much random knowledge in my head.

^Which topic do you know the most about? History, space, geography. Tell me your best pun. I’m terrible at puns... When you look at clouds, what do you see in them the most? Big puffy cotton candy. If you wear makeup, what's the most outrageous colour you use? Do you like being the center of attention? Nope. Make a haiku about the item that is to your left She’s not an item But a friend right next to me Her name is Patrice

Make up a limerick. That’s enough writing for today, haha.