#heyyyyyy…… guess who’s back

[officialheroesofolympus]

Eternals | Druig/Makkari

He thinks of her.

In between menial everyday tasks and draining construction, right before succumbing to sleep, and even in his dreams, Druig vividly pictures dark warm eyes dusted with starlight, and affectionately upturned lips.

He doesn’t regret controlling what was left of the humans to cease the fighting – to lead them away to this very corner within the depths of the Amazon and live out the rest of their lives peacefully, devoid of futile wars or violence.

He does regret, more than anything, leaving behind the other half of his soul, in the tender grip of Makkari.

(Or, what happens after the events of Tenochtitlan and before the Emergence, featuring the gradual reparation and blossoming of Druig and Makkari's relationship.)

[itsbeeble]

I Think He Knows

SUMMARY: You've been in love with Joshua for as long as you can remember, yet you've never been able to tell him. Fortunately or unfortunately, you're pretty sure that he already knows.

GENRE: smut, fluff

PAIRING: Joshua Hong x afab!reader

WC: 4.9k

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @winterchimez @juyeonszn @flwoie

SERIES TAGLIST: @captain-brie @nobraincellmode @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan

18+ MDNI AGLESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: uhhh, best friends to lovers, Hoshi being a snitch, p in v sex, brief oral (fem receiving), ddry humping, a bit of spanking, brat tamer!Joshua, brat!reader, tiny bit of angst if you really really squint, consent is IMPORTANT, tiny bit of alcohol, horrible flirting, multiple orgasms, idk this isn't my best work. It's also not edited so uh....good luck lol.

A/N: heyyyyyy 🥰. I'm not dead clearly, but my god has it been a minute. part of me is wondering if this series will ever be done but i'm doing my best. school sucks, work sucks, life is a bitch, and I burnt myself out. Anyway, thank you to Brie and Ally for betaing, much love kiss kiss. ALSO HAPPY VALENTINES DAYYYY

Your heart pounds ferociously in your chest, butterflies tumbling through your stomach uncomfortably. You feel like a teenager again, sitting in front of Joshua who has a boyish grin on his face. One of his hands traces along the bottom of his champagne glass, the other resting on the table and playing with the cork of the expensive bottle. You wonder if he knows how he makes your head spin with just a little smile and a glass of champagne. The thought doesn’t linger for long, and you let your gaze lower back to the practically empty plate before you. A few roasted vegetables remain on the plate, and you pick at them with your fork to avoid looking at your friend. 

Friends. That’s what you are. Nothing more, nothing less. As you always had been. 

Friends that took each other out to expensive restaurants, bought expensive drinks and expensive meals. Friends that—

“Soonyoung told me something interesting today,” he leans forward, dipping his head down to try and catch your eye. You glance up at him, but the fluttering in your stomach returns and forces your eyes back down.

“Oh yeah?” You murmur, thanking god for the dim lighting around you.

“Mhm. He mentioned you, actually.” 

Pause.

Kwon Soonyoung was the only person in the world who knew about your years-long crush on your best friend. If you could even call it a crush at this point. You’d admitted to yourself long ago that you were in love with him, admitted it to Soonyoung a few months back. You should’ve known better than to trust the mouthiest person in your friend group. 

“Now I’m curious,” you lift your head again, steeling yourself against the onslaught of nausea at what your mutual friend could have said. 

“He said,” Joshua shifts in his seat, running his tongue over his lower lip. “That you have feelings for me.”

Damn you Kwon Soonyoung. 

You nod slowly, lowering your fork onto the ceramic plate in front of you. The pounding in your chest has returned, hitting so hard against your ribs that you fear your heart will pop out and land right on the table in front of Joshua. 

“And…do you believe him?” You ask, failing to control the fear in your voice. Joshua smiles, and for a moment you let the fear wash away. Joshua Hong is the last person that you should feel afraid of. He was kind, he would never intentionally harm someone whether emotionally or physically, and he understood you better than most other people. You try to keep this in mind as you make eye contact. 

“I would be lying if I said that I didn’t at least hope he was telling the truth.” Joshua sits up, lacing his hands together and resting his elbows on the table. A spark, and you find the corners of your lips lifting. “Otherwise, my plans for the evening are a bit…a bit ruined, I guess.”

“You had other plans?” The champagne burns against the back of your throat as you down the rest of your glass. 

“Depends on how you respond to my question.” His eyes burn into yours and suddenly the table for two feels a lot smaller. 

“What question is that?” I already know, and I know my answer.

“Are you,” Joshua slides his glass to the side, “in love with me.”

“Yes.” You respond without hesitation, ripping the band-aid off and shocking both of you. Never had you been this forward with Joshua. You were always somewhat reserved with…everything, really. Past relationships, struggling with a subject, a pet passing away. You never wanted to let Joshua in and it made his heart swell that you did now. “I’ve— I’ve been in love with you since the day we met.”

Joshua sucks in a sharp breath of air, leaning back in his seat and smiling thoughtfully.

“I answered your questions,” you drum your painted nails on the table. “Now you get to answer mine.”

“Ask away.” Joshua waves his hand. 

“What sort of plans did you have for us?” 

The question was innocent— at least to you it was— but as you watch Joshua’s eyes darken with lust, you realize that the implications…may not have been as innocent as you had believed. You think he knows where your mind has derailed to, knows what thoughts have begun to plague you. 

Joshua tips back his glass of champagne, and you watch him carefully. You allow yourself to admire the way his neck cranes, the way his jaw is hit by the light. He drains the golden liquid in two long sips, wiping away the excess that rested on his lips with a delicate swipe of his thumb. 

“We’ll get to that,” he emphasizes the word, watching you tilt your head down and bite at your lip. “I have some other things I’d like to do before anything else.”

He flags down your waiter, calmly asking for the bill. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, disturbed by how the mild flirting had already gotten you worked up, but wait patiently for Joshua. You wouldn’t deny the fact that you were eager to see what he had in store for the two of you, what he’d planned on such short notice. 

“You ready?” He taps the table with one finger, already beginning to stand. 

“As I’ll ever be.” Your lips twist into a smile as he helps to pull out your chair, grabbing your jacket before you even had a chance to reach for it. “Aren’t you just a gentleman?”

“You should know by now that all I’m doing is the bare minimum.” He scolds, and you don’t pretend you don’t notice his eyes flicking from your eyes to your lips. 

“Best friends don’t pull out chairs for each other.” It’s a joke, both of you know it. You’re fully aware that after tonight, neither of you will ever be best friends again. Whether he asks you to stay with him or not, at the end of the night nothing will be the same. This doesn’t, however, stop Joshua from scoffing and tugging you by the waist to come closer to him. You stumble, nearly falling into his chest had his hands not been right there to catch you. 

“I think you know,” his voice is a quiet rumble, “that we’re never going to be best friends again after this, Y/N. You’re mine now, and I don’t think I’ll ever let you go.”

You have to fight everything inside of you to not yank him down by that dark hair of his and kiss him in the middle of that crowded restaurant. Thankfully, it looks as if Joshua is fighting that same urge, one hand dropping down and the other sliding to the small of your back to guide you toward the door. 

You’re mine now.

It’s a wonder that you make it to the car without jumping Joshua’s bones, but it seems you have more self-control than you’d given yourself credit for. The whole ride to…wherever it was that Joshua was taking you, you somehow managed to keep your hands in your lap, rubbing at your palm with your thumb. From the corner of your eye, you can see Joshua. He has one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on the center console. He glances at you periodically, scanning your side profile.

“You’ve gotten quiet,” Joshua comments, drumming his fingers while you wait at a stoplight. Your eyes flick to his, and you purse your lips. “Are you…did I make you uncomfortable at all? Do— do you want me to bring you home?” 

“No,” you tell him quickly, shaking your head. “No. I want to stay with you.” 

The response soothes him, and he lets his hand drift to your thigh. He lets it hover over your exposed skin, waiting for you to push him away before he finally lets it rest on you. His hand is warm, his touch sending sparks through your body. You swallow hard, leaning back against the seat and staring at the road in front of you. Would it be wrong to tell him you want him to touch you more? To bring his hands just a bit higher, to—

Joshua’s hand squeezes a bit, drawing you back to reality. The light is green now and your body jerks as he presses on the gas. He lets his hand drift a bit higher, grazing underneath the fabric of your dress before stopping. Heat begins to pool in the pit of your stomach and you contemplate grabbing his hand and putting it right where you need it if he doesn’t move faster.

“You’re a menace.” You click your tongue and Joshua looks at you with a mocking pout.

“I didn’t do anything!” 

He’s right. Technically he hadn’t done anything. You, however, were on the verge of doing something very…inappropriate if he didn’t knock it off.

“I’m sure you didn’t.” You let your hand fall to his, tracing the back of it with your pointer finger, and watch the veins pop as he squeezes for the third time. You’re approaching a very familiar street with some very familiar houses. “Are we…are we going back to my place?” 

Joshua smirks. “Small change of plans.”

The giddiness inside of you returns, your head spinning as you think of all the things he could (and likely would) do to you. Your fingers lace through his, your heel-clad foot tapping against the floor protector in his car as he pulls into your driveway. He puts the car into park but leaves the engine running. For a few moments, neither of you says anything. The air between you is thick with tension, tension that grows when he tugs you toward him. 

“Tell me now if you don’t want this.” Joshua breathes out, his lips mere centimeters from your own. If you tilt your head just a bit, you’ll be able to kiss him— something you’ve craved since the day you met him. “Tell me now and I’ll walk you to your door and say goodnight.” 

“And if I do want this?” Your eyebrow arches, a playful look in your eyes. “What then, Joshua Hong?”

His eyes flutter, exhaling heavily as he tries to keep his composure.

“You’re going to be the death of me, I think.”

When Joshua kisses you, it isn’t as rough as you’d imagined. No, he’s gentle with you. His kiss ignites a fire inside of you, the flames swirling through your veins and heating your body until you fear you’re burning up. He cradles your jaw in one large hand as if you were glass and you would shatter if he held you too roughly. His lips move softly against your own, parting the slightest bit to catch your lower lip with his teeth. It’s a delicate dance, almost playful, and you couldn’t have asked for anything more. Your head tilts, allowing you to kiss him deeper, and a quiet groan leaves him. You smile a bit into the kiss, Your hand sliding up his chest to curl into the fabric of his shirt and pull him closer to you. Both of you ignore the fact that your body is halfway across the center console, your thigh resting on the seat between his legs keeping you propped up when his hands become distracted by the curves in your hips

The two of you only stop when you feel like you can’t breathe, your chest tight with the lack of air. 

“You taste good,” Joshua murmurs, his nose nudging yours as he gazes at you with heavy eyes.

“You think so?” Your lips press against his jaw, and he smiles tightly.

“Mhm.”

“You should turn off the car and take me inside so you can find out what else tastes good.”

That must have been the right thing to say, because Joshua’s eyes darken in an instant and then he’s shutting the engine off, slamming his car door shut, and walking quickly over to your side. When he opens your door, you don’t wait for him to outstretch his hand before you practically spring to your feet, grabbing him by the sleeve and yanking him after you. He laughs as he stumbles along behind you, tugging his arm out of your grasp and squeezing at your waist over the fabric of your dress. Your hands are trembling, the heat in your stomach growing more intense by the minute.

“Struggling, pretty girl?” 

His breath against your ear and his lips on your neck sends chills down your spine and you inhale sharply as his hand wraps around yours to help you guide the key into the lock. Your eyes are starting to flutter, your feet stumbling into the foyer of your home. Joshua presses you onward, one of his hands on the small of your back and the other flicking on the lights. You spin around to face him, your hands coming to his chest and curling around his tie to pull him down to kiss you again.

“At least let me get you upstairs,” he mumbles against your lips, grinning when you whine in protest.

“Can’t wait that long,” you deny, already fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. He grins, backing you through the doorway to your living room. 

He stops your movements to spin you away from him. You face your window now, curtains drawn and the windows to your neighbor's house across the street staring right back at you. “All your neighbors will see us. Is that what you want?” He’s kissing down your neck, hands trailing to the back of your dress to undo the clasp. 

“Let them see.” You hold your head high, hands clenching into fists as the fabric slides down your body and hits the ground with a soft thump, leaving your body completely bare except for a thin pair of lacey panties. “Let’s put on a show for them.” 

“Interesting.” Joshua seems entirely unaffected by the statement, but the way he pulls you back against him to grind against the growing bulge in his pants is saying something entirely different. “Didn’t take you as someone to like being watched. I’ll have to explore that another time.” 

You mean to respond, words forming at the tip of your tongue but never escaping your lips as Joshua pushes at your shoulder, slowly guiding you to the ground. Your knees fold beneath you, your eyes wide and filled with stars as he moves into your line of vision and then away from you. You watch as he lets the curtains fall and cover your windows, and then he turns back to face you and continues to unbutton his shirt, loosening his tie until it hangs loosely around his shoulders.

“What are you doing, Shua?” Your voice is weaker than you’d wanted it to be. 

Joshua smiles coyly, leaning down until he’s at eye level with you. “I said that I would explore that at a later date, pretty girl. Not tonight. Tonight, you’re mine.”

“Yours?” Your hand rises to cup his cheek similarly to how he held yours just a few minutes ago. 

“Mine.” 

His knees hit the ground on either side of you, leaning over your body until you’re forced to lay back. Your legs stretch out to make his position a bit more comfortable, your knees rubbing together in anxious anticipation for what’s to come. 

You expect him to kiss you, your lips starting to pucker and your eyes fluttering shut as he lowers his face to yours once again, but nothing happens. Your eyes open to find him mere inches from you with that same smirk playing on his lips. 

“What are you smirking at?” You ask him, but he doesn’t answer. He shifts further down your body, laying a soft kiss on your collarbone that has your breath hitching briefly. Another kiss, this one closer to where your heart lays pounding underneath your ribs. Your hand twitches, aching to run through his hair, but the second you move to act on this urge he’s pinning your hand to the ground and glowering at you. 

“No touching.” Joshua commands, mouthing at the soft flesh of your breast. “Not until I’ve tasted every last inch of your skin.” 

He slips further down your body, leaving trails of soft kisses in his wake. The only sound in the house is the soft pop as his lips leave your skin and the heaviness of your breathing. 

When Joshua reaches the hem of your panties, he stops and trails his finger along it. The brush of his skin on yours is so subtle, yet you’re addicted to the feeling of it. So many nights you had cum to the thought of him tugging your panties down your legs, his eyes boring into yours as he lowers his mouth to your glistening cunt, imagining how it would feel to have him licking and sucking nipping at your folds. So many nights, and yet nothing comes even close to how it really feels. 

The second he runs his tongue from your hole to your clit, your back is arching off the ground and a loud gasp is echoing throughout your home. Your hands fly to Joshua’s hair despite his prior instructions, but he doesn’t seem to care as he drags his tongue and teeth across you. Your legs try to squeeze around his head, attempt to trap him against you, but he doesn’t let you. His large hands pry your legs away from him, squeezing harshly at your thighs and pinning them to the ground on either side of you.

He mumbles into your cunt with loud and drawn out sounds that reverberate through your body and have your legs jerking with pleasure. 

“Shua,” you gasp out, your eyes rolling as he sucks particularly hard at your clit. “Shua, fuck.” 

A loud smack rings out, and your thigh begins to sting. Your eyes widen, your head lifting off the ground at the same time that Joshua’s pulls away from you, his mouth dripping with your arousal. 

“What the fuck—” 

Another smack to the side of your thigh, and you yelp. Joshua raises an eyebrow. 

“Want me to keep going?” You can’t tell if he’s insane or not. You can’t tell if you want to smack him or beg him for more. You don’t get the chance to retort before he’s smacking your thigh again, harder this time. “That wasn’t rhetorical, pretty girl.”

Your teeth grind together, and one of your feet comes to his shoulder to shove him back. Maybe he lets you push him back. Maybe he wants you to fight back. Maybe he was waiting for it, because when you lean your body over him, he’s grinning maliciously at you.

“Who do you think you are, smacking me like that?” You hiss, and he pouts.

“Like what? Like this?” His hand comes down again, this time directly on your ass and sending waves of pain and pleasure through your body. 

“Joshua Hong,” you snap, but there’s no real anger behind it as you begin to grind your lower body into his clothed cock. His hands come to rest on your waist, watching as you try to form words and pleasure yourself at the same time. “If you keep pulling shit—”

Smack

Your body shudders and an airy moan pushes out of your lips despite how you fight it. Joshua grins again.

“What were you saying, pretty girl? If I keep pulling shit…what? What are you going to do, baby?” 

You can’t answer him, your hips rolling into his harder and faster as you approach your high. 

“Oh, baby.” Joshua coos, his voice shockingly stable despite how you’re practically riding him over his pants, effectively ruining them with your juices. “You’re a little desperate, aren’t you?”

“Oh shut up,” you whine, folding forward until your mouth is right next to his ear. Your moans and whines are right in his ear now, intentional on your part, and his grip on your waist tightens. “Feels so good, Joshie.”

“Yeah?” He’s quieter now, a low growl in the back of his throat as he fights to keep his hips on the ground. Fights to let you have your little moment, your little bit of control over him. “How good, baby?”

“Gonna cum,” your lips find the skin beneath his ear, sucking a mark into his flesh as your hips begin to stutter. “F— god, Shua, please!”

“It’s okay, pretty girl,” Joshua coos, a bit of pride welling in his chest at how fast you learned. “You can let go. Go ahead and cum for me, pretty girl.”

Almost as soon as he says those words, you’re letting out a loud, near pitiful moan and your body begins to shake over his. A wave of arousal soaks into his pants, seeping through and beginning to wet his boxers, but he doesn’t mind. Not when the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen is cumming for him, moaning his name and no one else’s. 

Joshua can’t stop his hips from jerking into yours, pleasuring you even as your orgasm begins to ebb away. When he sits up, he cradles the back of your head in one hand, his eyes boring into yours in such a way that has you whining for him, clinging to his shoulders and turning away. 

“So pretty when you cum,” Joshua murmurs, lifting the two of you up and giving you a second to wrap your arms and legs around him as he loops around your living room to the couch. “Gonna fuck you now, okay pretty girl?”

“Okay,” you nod, but your eyes aren’t focusing and neither is your mind. It feels like you’re on cloud 9, and Joshua hasn’t even taken his pants off yet. 

He peers down at you, mild concern showing in his delicate features. 

“Y/N,” his hands are caressing your sides gently, pulling you back down to focus on him. “You good?”

“I’m fine,” you promise, smiling lightly at him. “I just…it’s hard for me to actually, like, believe that you want me how I want you.” 

Joshua smiles. “And how, exactly, do you want me?”

“Wholly. I want everything. I want all your love, all of your problems, every doubt, and every moment— good or bad.” His eyes soften as you speak, and for the first time that night he’s the one that’s gone quiet. “I want you carnally, I want you to crave my touch and my taste as much as I crave yours. Every kiss, every intimate moment. I want them all.”

“And you’ll have them.” Joshua promises, and then he’s kissing you again. It’s a deep, lingering kiss. His lips part against your own, your tongues dancing together but not dominating each other. Your hands cup his neck, holding him close to you, and in that moment you don’t hear the clinking of his belt or the sound of his zipper sliding down. 

“You promise?” You pull away from him, your lungs burning from the lack of air. Joshua smiles at you, and his lips press against your forehead. 

“I think you know the answer to that, pretty girl.” 

And you do. 

He would never have to say it, you always know. Joshua Hong, in all the years you’d been best friends, had never once told you something if he didn’t 100% believe it, if he wasn’t absolutely sure that he would or could hold himself to it. He didn’t have to promise you, you could see it in the way he looked at you. Soft eyes, pretty smile, that little wrinkle in his nose. You knew the answer. 

“I’m gonna start pushing in now,” Joshua murmurs, aligning his cock with your entrance, shuddering at the seemingly never ending flow of arousal. “Let me know if you need me to slow down or stop.”

“Okay,” you nod, draping your arms over his shoulders and forcing your body to relax. 

He pushes in slowly, but the stretch of him filling every little crevice inside of your cunt stings and causes you to let out a whimper. 

“I know,” he whispers, “just take it all, baby. Take it all for me like a good girl.” 

Your body shudders at that, and you let your head fall back onto the cushion below you. Inch by painful inch, he slides into you until your body begins to convulse and try to force him out. 

“Baby,” Joshua grinds out between gritted teeth, “You gotta stop clenching like that.”

“I— I can’t.” You moan out, your back arching off the couch. “Hurts so good, Shua.”

“That so?” Joshua grunts and shoves the last few inches into you, relishing in the pretty little wail that escapes you. “That’s another thing I’ll have to make note of, huh?” 

He doesn’t give you much time to respond before he’s hauling your legs up and around his waist, one hand gripping the arm of the couch and the other planted beside your head. A silver chain dangles above you, glittering in the low lighting of the living room but capturing your attention just long enough to tell Joshua to start moving. 

“Can’t,” he tells you breathlessly. “Fuck, clenching so tight I can’t move.”

“I don’t care.” You whine. “Just fuck me, please Shua, please, please, please fuck me—”

He cuts you off with a sharp thrust of his hips, shoving his dick just that tiny bit further into you that has you gasping as the air is punched out of your chest. 

“You’re lucky I love you.” He groans as he slowly pulls back, his dick practically drenched in your arousal, and then thrusts sharply back in, sheathing entirely inside of you. You cry loudly, a tear slipping down your cheeks and your legs tightening around his waist. Joshua repeats the action again and again, drinking in the way your head lolls to the side, your tongue practically hanging out of your mouth. 

Then he begins to fuck you, just as you asked. He thrusts into you with hard, deep strokes that have you wailing and thrashing against the couch cushion. Your body is convulsing beneath him, and he can only watch like a god watching his worshippers, as you beg for him to fuck you harder, faster, deeper as if he isn’t already going hard and fast and deep to a point beyond your fucked out mind’s comprehension. The couch shifts slightly on the ground, scraping against your hardwood floor, but the sound is drowned out by the combined volume of your cries and moans and whimpers along with his grunts and little moans. 

“Close,” he grunts, his head dropping to your chest to bite and suck at one of your tits. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

You clench around him in response, your back arching off the cushion to get closer to his mouth, relishing in the pleasure he’s providing you. “S—so good, Shua. Fuckin’ me so good.”

“Yeah?” He pulls away from your chest, a sheen of sweat covering his forehead as he stares down at you. “Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum all over your best friend?”

Your body shudders in response, and suddenly your vision goes white. You can faintly hear your own voice, your own pleads and screams of Joshua’s name as he pounds into you, forcing your juices out of you and giving you no time to recover from your orgasm before he’s shifting his hips and driving his cock into a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. Your hand clamps down over your mouth to muffle the animalistic sounds that pour out of you, but Joshua rips your hand away, pinning it down on the couch.

“Don’t you dare muffle a single sound that comes out of you,” he hisses. “Not a single one.”

You don’t have the strength, will, or energy to respond to him. Not as his cock begins to twitch inside of you and another orgasm threatens to wash over your body. One of Joshua’s hands, the one that had been pinning your hand to the couch, moves over your hip, and his eyes stay on you as his thumb begins to rub hard circles into your clit.

“Oh my—” your voice cracks. “Fuck, oh my god, Shua!”

“Cum for me,” he grunts, forcing his orgasm back so he doesn’t cum before you, despite you already having done so twice now. “Now, baby. God, please cum for me.”

And you do. 

It crashes over you like a rockslide, rough and strong, and crushing everything in its path. Your cunt clenches around Joshua so tightly you fear you might break him, but he only moans out your name and begins to spill white-hot cum inside of you. The combined fluids from the both of you are forced out as Joshua continues to fuck into you, slowly now compared to before. Soft, deep thrusts that carefully bring you down from the edge until both of you have finished, laying spent on your now ruined couch. 

“That…” your voice is raspy. “Is that how you’re gonna fuck me every night?”

“Is that how you want me to fuck you every night?” Joshua’s tongue laves over your skin, pressing gentle kisses against your neck. 

You think he knows the answer, but you tell him anyway with a sly grin on your face.

“You promised.”

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[angel-sweets666]

Barbarians can’t be gentle

Barbarian bakugo x reader

A/n HEYYYYYY, I did a poll to see what I should write about and right now, this was winning! So this is a one shot for you guys

barbarians can’t be gentle, that’s was literally every other person said when you told them you were getting married off to the barbarian tribe to strengthen your clans forces. They all looked at you with concern, pity, worry and for some even fear. The rumour spread quick that our leaders decided to marry you off, and people weren’t happy. Three days before the wedding, you were called by the leaders. They made you pack your backs and leave in the middle of the night to marry you off.

which brings you to now sitting inside a tent while many people fidgeted with your hair, clothes and face makeup. You sat emotionless, staring off at the wall “what’s wrong?” One of the people ask “huh? Nothing… nothing…” you said, trying to shake off the look of misery you had on your face “he’s very nice” one of the women said as she applied a white stripe to the left side of your cheek “no he’s not, he’s rude.” The man next to her said as he put stuff in your hair “shush you’ll make them scared!” The woman next to the both of them tried to shush them “who is nice or rude or whatever! Who is it.” You snapped at them, they all stopped bickering and turned to look at you “you… you don’t know who you’re marrying?” One woman asks “no!” You replied, and their faces said it all. Shock, surprise and mostly pity. This happens alot, people from other tribes and clans are Brought in to marry barbarian however this doesn’t end well and often results in the death of either partner, or someone running away. It never goes well.

people were surprised to see you when you left the plain tent to go to the wedding ceremony, you were very attractive by barbarian standards. They were hoping that your future husband would keep you around long enough, you still didn’t know who your future spouse was. All you knew was he was loud, and blonde, with a good sense of how to train a dragon (movie reference??). As you were ushered up the alter, you looked up to see a very angry looking young man, maybe 20 years old or maybe a little older? They placed you to be adjacent of him. The officiant was a short man who obviously has seen better years, probably around 70 years old. “Blah blah blah bakugo!” The man said, your husbands name was bakugo.. nice to know. “Do you take *name* to be your wife/husband/spouse” he smiles to bakugo like this was a love marriage “uh..” he said gruffly, and looked out at the crowd “yeah whatever i do” he tried to hurry it up “uh.. okay… *name!* do you take bakugo katsuki to be your husband?” You gulped and looked at him then at your feet “y-yeah I guess” “is that a i do?” “I do, I do”

that night you found yourself in the bed next to bakugo, he looked cuddly. But you knew he probably wouldn’t let you cuddle him “katsuki?” You called out to him “what?” He grumbled and pushed his face into some pillows “I know you don’t like… know me” “damn well I don’t know you” “okay let me finish.” You scoffed “I know you don’t know me, but to try and make this marriage a little more uh…. Tolerable.. can I try like… affection with you..?” You asked gently, to try and get him comfortable “no fuck off” “katsuki I’m trying to make this work” “UGHH FINE” he yelped like an annoying little baby. Gently you pulled him to lay in your arms, and ontop of you chest. His body between your legs as you played with his ash blonde hair; giving him a little head massage. “Comfy…?” You cooed and all you got was a raspy grumble back. You giggles “I’ll take that as a yes”

over the next few days he wasn’t that bad, while he was mostly gone during the day, at night it was just cuddles and late night talking. You learned he didn’t get along with his mother, his father was a submissive and not helpful during his childhood, that he was a good hunter, he believed in keeping smaller partners safe ect. This night you found yourself being his little spoon, his strong arms wrapped around your waist as he mumbled stuff with his face buried into your shoulder “my spouse……” he mumbled “yeah.. I’m your spouse” you said to him like he was a baby learning to talk. He giggled and then kept burying his face into your shoulder. “Maybe I do like you… just a little….”

who said barbarians can’t be gentle?

[licorice-tea]

Seaside Rendezvous

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x reader

Content: fluff, a little angst, unrequited feelings/ miscommunication, not rlly unrequited

Word Count: 0.6k

A/N: Heyyyyyy….. it’s been a while, huh? life has been busy and difficult and amazing and everything in between, but i just wanted to post something (even if i feel like it’s not my best work😓) i might be more active after like 2 weeks, but it’s also finals season rn :o anyway, miss you guys and miss writing! looking forward to getting back into tumblr, and i hope you enjoy!

It’s a clear and overwhelmingly blue sort of day. You walk along the beach, beneath a cloudless sky, which creates calm waters to push gently foaming waves onto the shoreline. They soak your feet while you amble on, shoes in one hand and a single bag of groceries in the other. And Sanji’s signature blue pinstripe shirt makes him look even more picturesque than usual- a perfect man against a perfect backdrop.

He’s less than an arms distance to your right, with at least 4 bags in each hand, plus a tote under his arm. But you feel there is no point in offering to hold a few, since he had already refused when you initially left the market. That was half an hour ago, and you’ve been merely contemplating your feelings up till now. You’ve always felt something for Sanji, it’s just hard to say what exactly. He flirts so shamelessly and often that understanding your own emotions is nearly impossible. Are they a matter of genuine affection (beyond friendship), or simply flare-ups of lust inspired by how much he seems to want you?

Even if you could know how you truly feel for Sanji, your longtime crew mate and friend, it wouldn’t matter for that very reason. If anything, it might be worse to know how real your affections for him are than it is to continue pushing them to the back of your mind silent, contemplative moments.

But Sanji makes that impossible, too.

“What’s on your mind?”

Your eyes leave the sand to meet his mirth- crinkled eyes. “Nothing, why?”

He manages to shrug beneath the weight of the groceries. “You were being quiet, that’s all.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Don’t be, dearest.”

You avert your eyes before mumbling, “Are you sure you don’t want help with those bags?”

“I don’t need help, but thank you. And,” he smiles a little brighter, “I’d hate to ever burden you, love.”

“Sanji, don’t say things like that.”

“Oh? I thought you enjoyed my terms of endearment for you.”

You shake your head no. “Not if they aren’t serious.”

Sanji’s expression turns from content, to confused, then surprised, while he slowly comes to a stop. Once you’ve notice he’s no longer walking by your side, you turn back in time to see him finally settle on a gleeful smile.

“You’d like it… if you knew I was serious?”

“W-Well… I guess, yeah. Not that I-“

“Because I am serious about you. I always have been, really.”

Now you’re the one who’s confused. “What?”

He rushes to drop the groceries, followed by the tote bag on his shoulder, and approaches you. Sanji guides you to drop your own load, too, before taking your hands in his.

“Would you be mine?”

“Sanji, you’re being ridiculous now…”

“I’m being genuine. Why, you don’t want to?”

“Well I mean, I would if I could, but I can’t. We can’t.” You let go of his hands and pick up your shoes and singular grocery bag, then straighten up and look into his eyes. He smiles sadly, and you just smile back before walking on.

He knows you don’t mean to hurt his feelings, especially since you seem to barely believe that said feelings for you could be real or serious. But it does hurt a little. Sanji sighs as he picks up his bags. He follows you and watches your hair bounce with your steps.

For now, he’d have to be content with letting his imagination run away with thoughts of loving you.

[itsgrimeytime]

The Nurse (Part Twelve) || Rick Grimes (TWD)

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12...

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Taglist: @strnqer @1985bitch @curlycarley @imaginemyfavoritefics @crazytxgradstudent @addisonnie @whos6claire @taylvvrr @quicksilversg1rl @catt-leya @1tsk1tty @hopefulatrocity @fuseburner @idkseraphine @emo-potato-virgil @mcuclintasha @8crazy-freak8 @peepeepoopoobutt @crazyunsexycool @alixxhere @allthetroubleiveseen @dxrkymxrchy @taylormarieee

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax

Summary: Before all this, you were a nurse. A nurse who had patients, one of which was a man in a coma. A sheriff, you think, it was all kinda fuzzy now. When it all went sideways, you set up what you could for the man - but had to leave. You’d always wondered where he’d ended up; until in your search of shelter, you run into a familiar face.

TWS: mentions of death, gun violence (just violence in general), gunshot wounds, swearing, and all things typical of TWD.

[[A/N: heyyyyyy girlies, we're getting on the domestic train. And Carl is backkkk, yay !!!! I'm working on getting back into the groove of this one. Sorry if seems sort of slow, I'm working on it !!! Been waiting to use this gif on god. It's AHHHHHH- perfect, perfect. Thanks for reading !!!]]

Your legs were heavy, you realized when your eyes blinked open again -it had been a few days. You only knew that because of the little flashes of Rick feeding you, slow careful hands, and the affectionate gaze of blue. The haze of the sun through some of the windows -they were often very small but not completely unnoticed.

Warmth across your skin, you shifted -just barely. A sort of ache smoothing across your skin, you nearly hissed.

"Don't move too much," Hershel mumbled, light but pointed -worried, "-it'll hurt."

"Right," you spoke, scratchy, "-What's-"

"Shh," Hershel shushed, hand loosely motioning to you, "-ya got visitors. Imagine ya don't wanna wake 'em."

You pursed your lips, curious, but as your eyes surveyed your sides -sweeping across your legs, you faltered.

Right there, curled up to your calf was Carl. You couldn't quite see his face, the sheriff hat tipped onto the bed -maybe moved in his sleep? And now that you realized, you felt his tiny little hands wrapped around your leg.

The grip was strong, actually, fingers pulling at your pants slightly. And there was a spare thought then, that maybe Carl had thought if he had let go you'd disappear again. Just like you had before. Just like his Mom had... left his life so suddenly.

Something in your chest squeezed.

You frowned, using your good arm to move the hat safely to your other side -the gentle scratch against the sheet being the only sound in the room. You smiled, a teeny-tiny one and maybe your eyes got a little foggy, but no one would know but you.

The world almost seemed to slow then, as you carefully smoothed your hand down his hair (or what you could reach anyway).

He didn't move, eyes squeezed shut and chest rising and falling with each breath. Something in you relaxed. There wasn't a day you didn't worry about him, and Judith, of course.

The chairs beside you were starchly empty; though, one sat closer than the others right by your head -thin sheet tossed over the back and pillow leaned against the arm of it. Rick.

"Went off to help with the farm," Hershel followed your eyes, stepping forward and nonchalantly pressing his fingers to your shoulder -checking it over, "-should be back soon. Everythin' alright?"

"Yeah," you responded, slowly, "-just weird when he's not here."

"I'd believe it," he laughed -a soft sort of chuckle, "-he's been by y'er side nearly every second."

You smiled, something warm playing with the strings of your heart, well he loves me so... It only makes sense. With a few steady heartbeats, you shifted slightly -achy and light-headed from not moving for a bit you guessed.

Hershel paused, looking over your face, "I ain't gonna ask."

You rolled your eyes, but paused for a moment, hearing a shift down by your legs, the gentle scratch against the thin sheet. You froze, and so did Hershel, eyes peering down at the little head -Carl moved slightly, back and forth. The two of you merely watched.

And then suddenly, the little boy shot up.

Big blue eyes scattered for a moment, dashing across the room before settling on you. He froze in place, hair a little smushed, and face a little red from where he slept, something in you awed him. You smiled a tiny one, tilting your head to match his eyes better.

"You okay, Carl?"

It only took a second, eyes getting a little glossy, and bottom lip jutted out -he was crying. Your heart crushed at the sight, squeezing so tight you nearly felt tears in your own eyes.

"Oh, Carl," you soothed, stretching out your arms -despite the ache, the sharp pain of moving your shoulder.

He didn't hesitate, jumping into the hug -tiny little hands so desperately grabbing at your shirt and a distant little hum against your shoulder -sniffling. You frowned and pulled your right hand up to comb through his hair -slow, careful strokes.

"I thought you were dead," he muttered, so light you could hardly hear it, "-Dad said. Dad said he'd go get you but I... When Mom... he was wrong then too."

"Hey, hey, none of that now," you exhaled, tightening your left arm around him, "-I'm right here, okay?"

"You could've died," he spoke, such serious words for such a tiny voice -something in you startled for a moment, "-Dad he didn't even... I dunno what woulda happen if you died, Y/N."

"I know, honey, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..."

You faltered, as he pushed further into your shoulder -you felt a bit of tears swipe against your shirt. You only held him tighter, smoothing your hand in his hair.

"I'm sorry that I scared you," you spoke, softly -like you were asking for forgiveness, just like with Rick, "-I didn't... I didn't think. I was just trying to protect you guys, but I should've thought about you a little bit more. You, your sister, and your Dad."

"Dad loves you," he spoke, muffled into your shirt -like maybe you were in his head on the verge of leaving and he wanted you to stay.

You smiled, a light one, something in your heart fluttering, "I know."

"'Me and Judith love you too."

You paused for a moment, tears gathering behind your eyes -good ones, wonderful ones. It made your heart slow and something gathered up in your chest -the warm, fuzzy feeling Rick always gave you but this was bigger. Something that swallowed you whole -filled a puzzle piece in your chest -a belonging.

"I love you guys too," you spoke quietly, voice breaking only a little -heart out on your sleeve, "-so much."

Hershel had long since left, and Carl would stay only a bit longer -you urged him to go get food when Carol had stuck her head in and said it was ready. He reluctantly left, after Carol gave you a hug -whispers of how happy she was you were okay left in the warmth.

It was only then that Rick came back into your room with a plate of food. It wasn't, on the surface, too much but in the apocalypse, you could tell it was served up for two.

"Hey, cowboy," you grinned, almost on instinct when you saw him.

He grinned back, sort of tired look around his eyes like maybe he had just been resting, as he leaned on the doorway -flannel shirt rolled up his arms, "Hey, ya hungry?"

"Why?" you teased, "-You gonna eat all that if I'm not?"

Rick rolled his eyes, stepping forward with sure steps -just by the chairs. Without so much as an extra thought, he set the plate down and leaned forward towards you -pressing a kiss on your forehead. The buzz of his stubble on your skin warmed you there, and your smile only grew bigger.

Love, he loves me.

He smiled, a sort of hazy affectionate one, and you wished you could take a picture of it -keep it right next to your heart. You wondered just how you missed it because you could see it all over his face. The fond look in his eyes, the small little pull of his lips, the way he just stared -like you were a painting hanging in a gallery and he wanted to see every detail. He loves you, how could you not see it?

Rick picked the plate back up and smiled -sitting back into the chair that was so obviously his.

It was silent for a few moments, as he scooted just a bit closer and helped you sit up with a sort of ease that made you wonder just how much he had cared for you the past few days. And then, he simply started feeding you -a bite for you, a bite for him, back and forth.

He still, even then, kept staring.

"What are you staring at?" You laughed, wiping at your mouth on the off chance that there was something there, "-Is there something on my face?"

"I'm just lookin' at ya," he hummed -before looking back down at the plate, gathering up another bite of what little sides you had.

Raising your eyebrows, you countered, "What for?"

"'Just..." he paused for a moment, "-just glad you're 'ere, sweetheart."

"You're such a sap, cowboy," you laughed, swatting at his arm.

He laughed, the crinkling of his eyes sending a spark down your spine, you almost keened with pride. Something in your hands telling you to reach out and trace them all -not now.

And then, it was quiet again. A comforting sort of quiet. Not like in... Not like when you were alone.

"Hershel told me ya talked to Carl," he echoed, adjusting the bite and bringing it to your mouth without so much as an extra thought, "-he's been waitin' to see you. I told him you needed to rest, but he... He won me over."

You watched his face, chewing your food as you tried to judge what he was thinking. Or maybe what you wanted to say.

"He was scared," you responded -a little guilty, "-that I... that I was too hurt. He was really scared. I felt... I think I helped him a little."

"No thinkin'," Rick corrected -probably sensing your guilt, "-ya did. You helped us all."

"I know, I just-" you sighed, smoothing your hands along the smooth sheet, "-you guys are everything to me. I should've seen that... that it means that I was everything to you guys. I was so scared of losing any of you... I forgot what it might feel like for you, or Carl, or Judith to lose me."

"You kno' now, that's all 'at matters," he spoke, head tilted to match yours and free hand leaned forward to smooth over your own -intertwining your fingers, "-I love you."

"I love you too."

[beetlebug-bii]

Feral Child MC Arrives

Part one? Let me know if you want more feral child MC with their older brothers. Felt bored so have this funky little crack prompt.

Notes: Gender Neutral MC, slight cussing, written for fun, enjoy!

okay so moving to the Devildom was a whole choice you made

Like yeah you were an orphan

and like maybe- MAYBE YOU WERE A LITTLE UPSET WITH MISS VELA THE HEADMASTER OF THE ORPHANAGE OKAY

MAYBE SHE SHOULDN'T HAVE LET THE OTHER BRATTY KIDS COME AND JUST STEAL YOUR ONLY PAIR OF SHOES LIKE WHO DOES THAT??? YOU ONLY GOT ONE PAIR??? THAT WAS A TARGETED CRIME.

so maybe in response you didn't tell anyone that you- yes YOU got accepted into a ROYAL ACADEMY.

Steal my shoes? fine whatever, guess who gets to go to ROYAL SCHOOL

NOT YOU LOSERS

HA

your face is probably already on milk cartons...

Rest in peace MC you can already hear those shoe stealers saying while wearing YOUR FUCKIN SHOES

But then like you actually showed up

And you aren't sure if you were met with like

Instant Karma for being petty or-

Anyways you're kind of sort of in hell

Whoopsies

It's okay though because you absolutely won over the highest demons in the Devildom

...wait actually thinking about it that really doesn't sound like a good thing-

Whatever

You're here, they love you!

You have been slaying since you arrived.

You walked into the student council room day one, a pair of sunglasses and a mocha latte from Starbucks in hand

You stole that latte too, like you were in the hall and just snatched it from this loser with white hair-

oh shit

Heyyyyyy

You were quick to find out

The demon you stole from was actually Mammon, the avatar of greed and your babysitter.

Let's just say Mammon wasn't especially happy about being a little thiefs babysitter

Which may or may not have received the MOST bombastic side eye from his five other brothers.

Aside from that though, how did your arrival go you may be wondering?

Lucifer just sat with his head in his hands, so upset that they have two children in this program- but damn at least one of them was an angel, then there was you- only comparable to a small glass rodent

Levi was sitting dreading having to move all his collectibles and games and- you know what?? maybe he will just invest in a security system...he so doesn't want to be a babysitter...whatever its Mammon's job..........fuck he was gonna have to be the babysitter!!! Mammon never does his job!!!

Satan could have cared less if you were three or eighty-seven, you're just some human and he was so ready to ask so many questions (unfortunately for him you're kind of a little sarcastic shithead / affectionate. he ain't getting any reasonable answers but he doesn't know that yet shhh let him be happy for like three minutes before he realizes.

Asmo? Asmodeus. My dude. Was so. Fucking. Excited. He was immediately squeezing you and pinching your cheeks and taking pictures of you in your little sunglasses. It's been FOREVER since Asmo has had the chance to absolutely coddle a little sibling. He was the first to just accept that yeah, this human is ours, we aren't giving it back. He was already planning to take you shopping for new clothes, and new furniture, you are going to be the most spoiled kid in the universe...and all you have to give in return is like any sense of privacy. Now smile for the camera!

Beel. Sweet sweet beel. Was also so quick to accept you. Not quite as part of the family, but as a new little friend. He was a bit worried to get close because you're just so tiny, but he quickly found out you were feral when he went in for a handshake and you just...bit him. For why? Why would you do this? Like he's fine, he barely felt it, but like...does he taste good? Did you want to be picked up? You were like a smaller Belphie with more energy...that thought made him smile

Your first day with the brothers was quite flabbergasting for everyone involved

You stole from Mammon, bit Beel, scampered around the floor, chewed on Diavolo's jacket, escaped for a while

By the end of the day the brothers were exhausted from chasing you

Its been too long since a kid has been around

They are far too out of practice

Mega L for them, while they're sleeping you're gonna make pancakes

Do you know how to use the stove?

Nah

Are you confident regardless

Unfortunately yeah

Good luck to the brothers

They're gonna need it...

...both for technically kidnapping you and because they have to deal with you-

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

@ckhalloween23 heyyyyyy bestie(s) I know I'm an entire-ass month late, BUT

HERE'S A PREVIEW OF THE ELIMETRI DARKFIC I PROMISED

Listen, y'all can't give me a "Serial Killers" prompt and the opportunity to write the dark, unhinged Demetri Alexopoulos of my dreams presented on a silver platter and NOT expect me to go a little apeshit ^^;

Or. A lot apeshit. Because boy did I let this funny little comic relief guy SNAP ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Also, funnily enough, I realized over the course of the last year or so that I'm probably autistic? For the longest time I held off on writing Hawk's POV because I hc him as autistic and I didn't think I could do him justice, but...I've unlocked this Fun Secret Collector's Item now, I guess XD Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz POV acquired!

Decided to give it a stab here, since him having NO fucking idea how to react to Crazy Demetri was just too much fun. Hawk came to me surprisingly easy once I got started, actually??? I mean I've always related to him a lot but I had no idea it was like. An autism thing. I thought it was just an ND thing akisudhlkuhyfu

Head's up to Tory and Robby stans...this may not be the fic for you. You have been warned 👀

CW for blood, violence, knife-threatening, light knifeplay, toxic relationships (although YMMV), mentions of murder, implied slut-shaming, homophobic slurs, and sexual subtext.

Fic under the cut! As always, moodboard pic credits available upon request :3

***

Hawk’s on his 30th rep when he hears the front door.

He stops mid-jab, the punching bag rattling on its chain as it sways back and forth. Scoffing, he rolls his eyes.

His mom must be home early. How fucking annoying.

He was looking forward to having the house to himself. With his father on a weekend-long business trip and his mother at her Friday night wine hangout, he was finally going to catch up on training without any interruptions.

The last thing he needs is to be outdone by Kyler Park and Robby Fucking Keene.

Hopefully his mom won’t come knocking, pestering him to watch movies or some other frivolous crap. He doesn’t have time for that anymore.

Strange. There’s a notable lack of the jingling and clattering that usually comes from 50 million things being shifted through an oversize purse. Hawk pauses, listening for any noise.

Maybe he imagined it.

“What the hell.” He takes a sip of the Red Bull on his bedside. Some sleep-deprived delirium or whatever it was wasn’t going to fuck up his focus.

Sure, he’s been averaging 5 hours a night, but who gives a shit? It’s not like anyone in high school actually gets enough sleep.

Sensei Kreese said in ‘Nam, they had to be ready to fight on a moment’s notice—geared to slaughter enemies after a mere 30 minutes’ rest in 48 hours. Hawk doesn’t strive for anything less.

The stairs creak.

His mom isn’t usually one for sneaking past his room, but perhaps she’s too tired to be chatty. He thanks the powers that be this seems to be the case, and returns to his reps.

Jab, cross, roundhouse. Jab, cross, roundhouse. Elbow. Knee to the chest.

He counts them out as he goes, power surging through him. Sensei will be sorry he started singing Keene’s praises when Hawk’s a better fighter than that piece of shit ever was.

Because throwing someone off a balcony when they had their guard down was a coward’s move. Typical Miyagi Do bullshit.

God, Hawk hates them. Hypocrites. Losers. Pussies.

He thinks of a new insult every time he lands a punch.

Miguel’s fucking insane for not appreciating what Cobra Kai did to get payback. What Hawk did to get payback.

His fists are starting to ache, fingers burning from being smashed against rubber again and again. Hawk doesn’t care.

Sensei would say the pain makes him stronger.

Jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross—

“You know, at some point, I think you’re as good as you’re going to get at punching.”

A shadow blocks the hallway light.

Dread grips him in frosty talons. His arms still, the punching bag swinging back and smacking his chest.

He gasps, stumbling back. Still, he refuses to look at the doorway.

Refuses to let Demetri see his shock.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?”

He presses as much venom into the words as possible. Enough intimidation, and Demetri will back down.

He knows now that Hawk is as real a threat as he ever was. And Demetri’s smart enough not to keep poking at a tiger that’s already mauled him.

“In what world would I not remember where you keep your spare keys?” Demetri sneers.

Well. Maybe that’s a bit generous.

“What do you want?”

Hawk keeps his tone steely, hoping he can kill whatever plans are swimming around his ex-best-friend’s head before they even form. In all likelihood, Demetri’s here to be a nuisance at best and a night-ruiner at worst.

Fucking Demetri. He’s always been such a distraction.

Hawk needs to get rid of those.

He thought he did. But Demetri is apparently either too stupid or too obsessed with the past to be properly scared away.

Irritating, but admittedly also interesting. It shows a kind of boldness that he wouldn’t expect Demetri, of all people, to have.

“Maybe I want to check in on my best friend.” Groaning footfalls as Demetri starts to slowly cross Hawk’s room. “I see you avoiding me at school. And you didn’t even bother to show when your little friends crashed Sam’s party. Perhaps I want to see how you are, hmmmm?”

And try as he might, Hawk can’t pick up the usual sarcastic edge to Demetri’s tone. He frowns at his far wall, confused.

There’s something odd in Demetri’s voice, and Hawk can’t for the life of him pick up what it is.

He still refuses to look at his oldest friend. He’s not going to give him the satisfaction of undivided attention.

Demetri is a pest, and should be treated as such.

“We’re not best friends,” Hawk says tightly, landing another punch on his bag. “Whatever we were? It’s done. Has been for a long time. Why can’t you get that?”

He finally graces Demetri with a look. He’s expecting the usual sullen look—scrunched brow, open mouth, widened eyes. Like he’s eternally surprised Hawk doesn’t need him anymore.

A look where maybe, if he prods it farther, Demetri will storm off. Or run off crying. Be out of Hawk’s sight.

Be somewhere where Hawk doesn’t have to think about that night at Golf N Stuff. Or how it felt to watch Demetri writhe on the floor. Or the streams of vomit that ripped from Hawk’s stomach as soon as he got home.

Or what he did to himself in the wee hours of the morning, when no one—not his mother, not Cobra Kai, not Sensei Kreese—was around to see.

But when Hawk glances over now, Demetri is smiling.

Not a contemptuous sneer, or a pained grimace. A full-on grin, splitting his cheeks and stretching much wider than the situation calls for.

Hawk inhales sharply.

Demetri shakes his head, laughing. “It’s almost endearing, you know. What a tryhard you are.”

He squares his jaw, refusing to budge as Demetri advances on him. “I thought I made it pretty clear what I think about you. You want another reminder?”

Hawk balls his fists, trying not to think about how hard the words are to force out. How hard he’s working to keep the iron shell he’s built around himself intact.

A strange smell hovers around Demetri. Acrid and metallic, like he’s spent too much time mucking around inside one of those computers he’s so besotted with.

“How revoltingly naïve.” Green eyes burn into him like acid, the glint behind them unlike anything he’s ever seen. “You thought you’d break my arm once and be done with me?

Hawk finds himself backing away.

“I’m not going to make it that easy for you, Hawk.”

Something in the way Demetri spits his new name finally gives him clarity.

“So what the fuck do you want from me?” he spits. “Why did you come here?”

“I came here because you were right. About everything.”

Any response is snatched from Hawk’s mouth.

For several seconds, all he can do is stare. Demetri smirks, apparently reveling in getting a leg up.

Hawk is so confused that he can’t even find it in himself to be angry. A strangled “what?” is all that comes out, pulling a snigger from his adversary.

“You think you’ve got it all figured out. Becoming the scariest fighter in the Valley. Making everyone quiver at the sight of you. Doing whatever you like because people aren’t brave enough to tell you no. Becoming your badass karate teacher’s little golden child. Getting rid of your weaknesses. Getting rid of me. But there’s one thing you got wrong.”

Typical Demetri. Monologuing around the point.

But Hawk is, nonetheless, finding his confusion turning to intrigue.

The mopey kicked puppy routine had gotten unbearably tedious. At least Demetri finally has the decency to give Hawk some variety.

“Oh, yeah?” He curls his lip. “What’s that?”

Demetri casually leans on Hawk’s dresser, like this is nothing more than a Friday night video game session.

“You think I avoid fights because I’m scared. But that’s not true anymore.” And there’s that grin again—that wide, unnerving grin that looks like it was pasted on from another human being’s face. The sort of manic look that would never in a thousand years belong on Demetri Alexopoulos.

“I avoid fights because I know who’s worth fighting. And who’s worth hurting.”

Well, that’s new.

Hawk narrows his eyes, trying to piece together if this is all some kind of trick.

“See, Eli, you were right that the world isn’t kind to people who get too soft.” Demetri starts sauntering over again, and that odd, metallic smell strengthens. “Or losers. Or weaklings. Or people who admit defeat. Give in too easily. Run off cowering and scared. So I’m shaking all that off. Next time I fight, I won’t lose.”

As Hawk pieces everything together, he scowls.

“So that’s what you want?” he hisses. “A rematch? Like you’d stand a chance.”

“So touchy. Do you only think of people in terms of whether you can beat them in a fight now? Boooooring.”

Demetri clicks his tongue disapprovingly. It’s a mocking gesture he’s been doing since they were little, but now something about it feels chilling.

Hawk’s back bumps his bedroom wall. Demetri’s closing in on him.

Fucking hell—he’s getting fed up with this cat-and-mouse. Why is he even entertaining this stupid nerd again?

It’s not like he gives a shit about him anymore. Then he wouldn’t snap his arm in half.

“Fuck off, Demetri!” he roars. “I fucking hate you. I don’t give a shit about anything you have to say! Get the hell out of my house, or I swear to god I’ll break your arm again.”

He fills the words with fire and force and poison, hoping something will hurt Demetri enough to make him go.

He can’t cave again. Not after he’s worked this hard to oust Demetri and everything he represents from his life.

Not after he’s severed Demetri’s bone with his own hands and smiled with his friends about it.

That should’ve been the last straw. That should’ve been what sent Demetri running for good, abandoning everything they’d once had to save himself.

But it didn’t. It fucking didn’t.

Demetri takes another step into his space, curling his lip. “You’re full of shit.”

“Fuck you.” Eli returns his stare, baring his teeth. “How are you so sure?”

“Because you hesitated.”

Hawk goes rigid.

“I begged you to stop.” Demetri’s hands slide onto the wall on either side of him, trapping him. “And you thought about it. You didn’t break my arm until all your psychotic teammates goaded you on. If you really hated me?” His voice drops to a breathy whisper. “You wouldn’t have even thought twice.”

“You don’t know shit.”

Demetri snickers.

“Poor little Eli. You’ve always sucked at arguing when you get backed into a corner.”

“I still broke it,” Hawk growls. “You know I can do it. Easily. So how are you stupid enough that you’re still fucking with me? You some kind of masochist?”

“You still care about me, Eli.” They’re inches apart now, Demetri leering over Hawk. “You never got over me not wanting to join your little club of sociopaths. Whenever there’s a rumble, you can’t stay away from me. And you want to know what I think?”

“Shut up.”

Demetri’s voice is husky in Hawk’s ear. “You wouldn’t hurt me when there’s no one to show off to.”

Hawk’s done with this.

He lunges, shoving Demetri’s chest and flying at him with an outstretched fist. He waits for that gratifying moment of shock—the familiar shift in Demetri’s features as he realizes yet again Hawk has no intention of going easy on him.

Demetri doesn’t even blink as he moves out of the way.

Hawk course-corrects, swiveling and diving for Demetri again. He throws the fastest punch he can manage straight at Demetri’s jaw.

Why the hell won’t he give up?

Demetri’s fantastic at giving up. He always has been. He gave up on standing up to bullies and he gave up on Cobra Kai and he gave up on Sensei Kreese.

So why won’t he give up on Hawk?

Demetri doesn’t dodge this time. He only swerves, allowing the fist to graze his chin.

He lets out a hiss of pain—angry, but not surprised.

Without warning, Demetri’s hands shoot up. Hawk freezes as long fingers snake across the skin of his arm.

The next second he’s screaming, Demetri’s hands twisting until his skin burns. The other boy’s grip tightens, thrusting him toward the floor.

He’s stealing my fucking moves again.

And frustratingly, he can do them fast. Hawk barely manages to use his other arm to shove Demetri off, stumbling back.

Even one moment of disorientation is too long. Demetri charges again, teeth bared like a wild animal.

One arm slams him against his bedroom wall while the other digs into his chest, squeezing the air out of him. And Hawk hates to admit it, but Demetri’s training-broadened shoulders have a terrifying amount of power behind them.

Nothing he can’t handle. Hawk’s taken on bigger opponents before.

He squirms in Demetri’s grip, his own arms loosening enough for his hands to make a grab for the taller boy’s throat. Then Demetri’s pinning hand is gone, slipping in and out of his jacket in what feels like less than a heartbeat.

Something cold and sharp presses Hawk’s throat. His hands drop, tensing against the wall.

“What the fuck…?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you, Eli.” Demetri tilts his head, pouting mockingly. “But you make it so damn hard to talk to you. Can’t do a thing without you coming at me like some kind of rabid coyote.”

“So you pull a…are you fucking insane?”

“Like you’re one to talk, Mr. Red Hulk Rage Issues.” The pout morphs into a smirk. “Clearly, you’re not above playing dirty, using that sad little Eli voice of yours to get out of trouble. Figured it was time I caught up.”

Hawk feels something sticky dripping down his neck. His breath hitches in his throat.

He aims a hit at Demetri’s stomach. The taller boy bends with it, and the blade presses harder.

“Oh, come now.” Demetri tuts disapprovingly. “Don’t make me slit your throat.”

Hawk hardens his expression, channeling everything in him into hiding the shock.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I don’t think you’re in a great place to test that.”

And he’s right. Hawk hates it, but he’s right.

This isn’t the Demetri he knows better than the back of his hand. The Demetri he knows so uncomfortably well that he convinced himself over and over and over that it meant he was sick of the fucking geek.

This isn’t grounded, rational, sensible Demetri. Something’s snipped his threads, made him start fraying at the edges.

He’s unraveling, floating in an ether where the pragmatic and the path of least resistance that he made his life philosophy are losing their appeal. He’s…

Well, it seems he’s done some script-flipping of his own. Decided—perhaps on a whim—to overhaul everything Hawk knew and replace it with something cold and alien and completely fucking unpredictable.

Was this how Demetri felt, that day Hawk showed up at school with spiked hair and a conniving sneer? Is this some kind of payback?

He doesn’t care if this new boy with a knife to his throat killed and gutted the friend he grew up with. It doesn’t matter anymore. That relationship only ever got in the way, anyhow.

He truly could not care less. Honest.

The only emotion he feels is annoyance that this new opponent will be harder to match, with erratic moves and a quickly-thinning conscience.

This Demetri isn’t pulling any punches. One stupid or sloppy move, and Hawk will be on the floor gurgling his life out.

He’s never taken Demetri for someone impulsive, but perhaps he just had a talent for controlling his most brutal and primal urges—for his own safety, if nothing else. Perhaps he’s lost this ability.

Hawk wonders what it says about him that he isn’t bothered by this at all. If anything, he finds the whole concept exhilarating.

Fighting Demetri had gotten so boring. Now, at last, they’re on equal footing.

Regardless, there could be a trace of the Old Demetri yet. He might be able to use that.

“Put the fucking knife away or I’ll call the cops,” Hawk snarls. “Think you’ll get into Stanford with a police report on your permanent record? Or whatever fucking nerd school you’re trying to—”

“With what phone?” Demetri interrupts. “The one you left on the coffee table downstairs so it won’t distract you from wailing on your stupid bag?”

Fuck. How did Demetri even notice shit like that?

Hawk tries not to let the dismay show.

“When my mom gets home, she’ll—”

“Mommy’s not coming for you, Eli.” Demetri’s smirk widens. “Mommy’s getting drunk with all her friends to forget her unfulfilled suburban picket fence life with her nasty, violent delinquent of a son. And Mommy’s going to crash at Michelle Galinski’s house, just like she has every Friday night for the past 10 years. And oh dear…Daddy’s out of town on his top-of-the-month business trip? Looks like no one’s coming to save you.”

Fuck that. He can save himself.

Hawk makes a grab for Demetri’s wrist, other hand clawing at the arm compressing his chest. Demetri seamlessly lifts the elbow of his knife-holding arm and jabs the bony appendage into Hawk’s skin.

The knife blade doesn’t even falter, pressing more firmly into Hawk’s neck. A sting, and he feels something warm trickle toward his chest.

The scent from earlier intensifies, and Hawk realizes abruptly that it must have been blood.

“Mmmm-mmmm.” Demetri purses his lips and shakes his head, like he’s scolding a disobedient child. “It’ll make it much easier for both of us if you don’t act up. I really don’t want to cut your throat, but I will.”

As Demetri sneers down at him, Hawk realizes too late that he couldn’t cover his alarm.

“What? Don’t think I’d actually hurt you?”

The taller boy fiddles with the knife, sending little pricks of pain rippling through Hawk’s neck.

“I guess you know how it feels now,” he purrs.

Hawk spits in Demetri’s face, sudden fury overtaking him.

This pathetic nerd’s not going to make him feel bad now. Not after everything he’s done to crush the part of himself that possibly could feel bad.

“Fuck you.”

And slowly, never once breaking his gaze, Demetri licks Hawk’s saliva off his chin. The dim hallway light just catches the moisture on his face.

“Keep it in your pants, Moskowitz. We’re not there yet.”

Now Demetri’s definitely fucking with him.

It’s growing tiresome. Nonetheless, he doesn’t want that cut in his neck getting any wider.

There’s something distinctly unnerving about the way Demetri’s eyes are boring into him, sizing him up with a kind of cold contempt. Looking at him like he’s nothing more than some ugly insect to crush under his shoe.

It’s the sort of callousness that Hawk has never once—not in the entire time he’s known Demetri—been the target of.

And maybe he’ll admit it. He dislikes it for more than just the fact it throws him off.

Demetri is spiraling into someone unrecognizable, and the sheer foreignness of the whole process makes Hawk shudder.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Hawk’s voice is small and weak. Like Eli’s.

He doesn’t care.

His entire sense of reality—every absolute, irrefutable truth he’s ever attached to himself and his life and his oldest friend—is uprooting and spinning out of control, and it’s not like anything fucking matters anymore.

Demetri laughs—a sharp, hollow sound devoid of any real humor.

“Like you’re one to talk. I know what you did to Brucks.”

Hawk’s blood freezes.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Demetri’s knife slides from the cut on Hawk’s neck, beginning to tease the underside of his chin. “Mitch told us what happened. And I damn well noticed when Brucks stopped showing up to school. Nice of your war criminal sensei to help you cover that up.”

Hawk’s breath comes in quick, short gasps.

Of course Demetri put two and two together. Of course he’d gone snooping so he could find something else to hang over Hawk’s head.

And the fall of that knife might be worse than the one currently tickling his jaw.

Part of him hates it. Hates being reminded of that day and hates being reminded what he’s capable of. Hates remembering the sight of a living, breathing person crumpling to the floor, and realizing they would never get up again.

But Hawk isn’t stupid. If anyone can play Demetri’s games, it’s the person who knows him better than anyone in the world.

“Demetri.” He keeps his tone as calm and non-abrasive as he can. “Who else’s blood is on your knife?”

Because it was still wet when Demetri shoved it up against him. And Demetri’s a moron if he thinks Hawk missed that.

“Ah. And we finally get to that.” Demetri chuckles, gently tracing Hawk’s jawline with the honed edge. “You see…the difference between you and me, Eli, is that I don’t need anyone’s help to hide my bodies.”

His heart drops to his feet.

“What did you do?”

“Not any worse than you.” Demetri cocks his head. “I hurt someone who deserved it.”

“Demetri.” Hawk steels his voice. “What did you do?”

Because whatever it was, Hawk sure as hell needs to take the proper precautions to make certain he isn’t next.

“Stopped at the convenience store on the way over here.” Demetri follows the knife with his eyes as he talks, expression almost affectionate. “Ran into one of Kyler’s old buddies from the wrestling team. One of the kids who used to call us fags, remember? He thought it would be fun to shove me around. So I pretended I was running my ass away, and got him to chase me somewhere a little more…private.”

Hawk gapes at him.

“Did you really…?”

“Shanked the asshole like a pig. He was so surprised he didn’t even fight back. And let me tell you, it was the most fun I’ve had in a while.”

And there’s that laugh again—the broken, disjointed chortles that feel so jarringly out-of-place. Green eyes shining with a frenetic light that makes Hawk’s hands grow slick with sweat.

Demetri leans in again, knife held steady as his lips brush Hawk’s ear.

“I know how it feels, you know. I know what it is to get so angry that you don’t even know what your body’s doing until it’s too late. Watch the life fade out of another human being’s eyes. Realize you like it. Sit there panicking about being some kind of inhuman monster and then suddenly realizing you don’t fucking care. And I suppose…I suppose that’s another reason you were right. There is a certain freedom in embracing that the world is cruel and cutthroat and unforgiving. In finally unmuzzling the wild animal thrashing around inside you and letting it hunt the way it was always meant to.”

Hawk shudders.

Sensei Kreese promised no one would ever find out about Brucks. Staged some kind of car accident or binge-drinking tragedy or drug OD or some other way stupid teenagers die all the time. Kyler was barred from the funeral, with Kreese worried (probably reasonably) that the dumbass would let something slip.

Kreese told the class that if anyone snitched, he’d be more than willing to look the other way as they met the same fate as Brucks.

Hawk hated how much he enjoyed it. He hated how after the deed was done, he couldn’t find a scrap of guilt in his psyche. It made him feel detached from himself—the abstract idea that doing that to another person was bad, but the complete lack of any emotions to back it up.

But that’s who he is now. No going back, he supposes.

Perhaps, on some level, he figured Demetri would pick up on this and leave him alone. Decide that Hawk’s path was too dark and too dangerous for his pasty basement nerd tastes, and stay huddled away with the Miyagi Dos singing kumbaya.

That would probably be best for him, anyways. Hawk still doesn’t know what other horrific shit he has it in him to do, especially when his victim pleaded so hard for mercy that would never come. When Brucks’ fruitless begging gave him an unmistakable rush.

And yet here Demetri is, claiming he was in a similar position. Claiming he lost control.

It isn’t that Demetri can’t put on an act if he needs to. But on some level, Hawk’s always been able to tell when his best friend is exaggerating or embellishing to make a story more interesting. There’s a kind of snarky undertone he uses, always giving that he isn’t completely serious. Subtle, but easy to pick up if you’re familiar with it.

There’s none of that here. If anything, this is the kind of emotional vulnerability Demetri never displays intentionally.

Until now, apparently.

Hawk bites his lip. “You’re not lying, are you?”

“You’re so cute.” The tip of the knife jabs into the underside of Hawk’s chin. “You thought I was some…what? Some sissy little do-gooder? The pinnacle of morality and mercy and all great virtues? No, no.” He giggles. “I’ve always been as fucked up as you. I only managed to keep it buried longer.”

Hawk scowls, suddenly remembering exactly who he’s talking to.

“Give me a fucking break. You joined the pussy-ass ‘defense only’ karate dojo. Your entire philosophy is about being sissy little do-gooders. Like you’d have the balls to pull even half the shit Cobra Kai—”

The knife flies back to the wound in his throat, Demetri using his arm to ram Hawk harder into the wall.

“You think I ever gave a flying fuck about Miyagi-Do?” he spits. “You think I’m some slavering pet like you, tripping over my little lapdog paws to appease my sensei’s every command? You think these asinine karate wars ever mattered to me? No.” He shoves his face into Hawk’s, blood on his breath. “You’re the one so obsessed with following orders that you can’t even remember who you were before you became some demented old man’s attack dog. You’re the one so drunk on loyalty to a fucking karate dojo that you can’t see none of this shit matters.”

Hawk bares his teeth, hoping with everything he has that Demetri won’t notice him shaking.

“Easy for you to say, when you pussied out after one punch in the face,” he sneered. “Of course you want to believe all of this is pointless when you’re on the losing team. But I’m not like you, Demetri. I’m no quitter.”

“Oh, how admirable.” The knife presses a little harder. “Tell me then, Hawk. How’s being on the same team as Kyler? As fucking Robby Keene? You excited for the chance to help them hurt Miguel again?”

Red-hot rage rips through Hawk. He lifts a leg and knees Demetri’s shin as hard as he can.

Demetri barely even winces. His other foot kicks up, ramming the side of Hawk’s knee. Hawk scrambles for balance, heart pounding as he just avoids falling into the knifepoint.

“Thought that’d hit a nerve.”

“Fuck you!” Hawk spits. “Keene was from your fucking dojo! You fought with him, too!”

“Not since he hurt Miguel.”

Demetri’s voice is frigid, rivaling the most biting winter rains. Every inch of him drips with a venomous hatred that Hawk has never seen before.

Not directed at him. Not directed at anyone.

“And now he’s in your dojo. Funny how that works.” Demetri clicks his tongue. “Guess your roaring rampage of revenge was all for naught.”

“It wasn’t.” Hawk curls his lip. “You were all responsible, and we got our paypack. It’s not our fault Miguel wasn’t grateful.”

“Ooooh, gotta love the Hawk’s impeccable logic! ‘Ah, yes, I think I will terrorize everyone in this dojo except for the person who actually almost killed my friend, who I will agree to team up with for some reason!’” Demetri returns his sneer. “Are you really such an obedient little bitch that you do whatever your precious sensei tells you? Even when you damn well know it makes no sense? You’re more pathetic than I thought.”

“Park and Keene know their place,” Hawk hisses. “They know I’m the alpha. They answer to me.”

Demetri cocks his head, looking amused.

“Even if I were to believe that. Do you like sharing a class with those assholes? Do you like knowing that if one of them were to get their ass handed to them by a Miyagi-Do or an Eagle Fang—by Miguel—that you’d be expected to rescue them?”

“I’d do it.” Hawk grits his teeth. “I wouldn’t like it, but I’d fucking do it. Sensei Kreese gave Sensei Lawrence and the others a chance to join back up with Cobra Kai, and they said no. Miguel chose his side.”

Demetri sighs, expression almost pitying.

“I guess ‘Cobra Kai for life’ trumps a Cobra’s desire to beat another Cobra into the damn ground. Kind of a shame. I think you’d enjoy hurting them.”

What Demetri said earlier circles back into his mind.

I avoid fights because I know who’s worth hurting.

Hawk straightens, keeping his composure.

“Sensei says we need all the allies we can get,” he says. “Even if we don’t like them. I’m putting up with Kyler and Robby long enough to win the tournament, and that’s it. Then I’ll find some way to weed them out.”

“I doubt it.” Demetri smiles down at him. If it weren’t for the knife, Hawk would punch his teeth in. “Contrary to how you act, I know you’re a smart guy. If you knew how to get rid of them, you would have already. No, Eli…” His voice drops to a purr. “You’re stuck with them, aren’t you?”

Hawk feels sick.

Leave it to Demetri to pinpoint his deepest fears—a karate clan filled with the worst people Hawk knew. Not a single friend to speak of, and a sensei with constantly divided attention.

Even Tory was turning out to be a fucking snake in the grass. She certainly took to the boy who nearly killed her ex with not an ounce of guilt.

And yet she believed with all of her being that Demetri deserved a broken arm for what Robby Keene did. That he was a pussy for crying out in pain. Actions didn’t matter to her—only the name branded across the merchandise you wore and the color of your gi at tournaments.

For the first time, the thought makes Hawk seethe.

All this time she’d seemed nothing but tough and fearless, but all she was was a shallow bitch who cared more about rank and status than a damn thing you actually did.

She was always going to hate Sam LaRusso for being rich and popular. She was always going to hate Miyagi Do for its association with LaRusso. But the second Keene bailed? Put on a belt with a cobra on it and showed off his snake-snatching skills?

She couldn’t wait to get on his dick. The filthy slut.

And suddenly Hawk realizes that he hates her, too. He hates so many of the people who are supposed to be his allies. But he can’t afford to think like that. And most of all, he can’t afford to let Demetri see it.

He glowers up at his ex-best-friend, keeping his gaze stony. “And why do you care? You have your posse of Miyagi losers to pal around with. Why do you give a shit what I do? Just go home to your little—”

“I left Miyagi-Do!”

The words come out in a forceful scream that practically knocks Hawk even further into the wall.

The sheer disdain in Demetri’s eyes for the group he had so cozily assimilated into sends Hawk reeling. He’d never—not in this lifetime or the next—expect Demetri to toss the whole lot of them out like garbage.

Demetri breaks into another grin, reveling in Hawk’s stunned silence.

“See, that’s another difference between you and I, Eli. I don’t need some washed-out old man telling me what to believe and how to fight. I can think for myself. And frankly, I got sick of the ‘safety in numbers’ business when it seemed ‘the numbers’ were always the ones who got to pick my enemies for me. And no one—” His eyes burn into Hawk. “No one decides that but me. I hurt who I like when I like, and I’ll fucking gut anyone who gets in my way.”

Hawk exhales slowly, keeping his scowl pulled tight.

“So…what?” Hawk sneers. “You’re going to fight Cobra Kai by yourself now? That’s so fucking stupid.”

“Not all of them. Some of your class are just brainwashed idiots who don’t know what they’re doing.” He sighs, shaking his head. “And you, Eli…well, I think you’ve lost sight of who your true enemy is. I was hoping I could help.”

“You really bounced?” Hawk narrows his eyes, still trying to make sense of everything. “After everything, you…just up and left?”

It can’t be that easy. He knows it wouldn’t be in Cobra Kai.

“Yeah.” Demetri shrugs. “And now I have way more time for important things.”

“I don’t get it.” Hawk’s frown deepens. “Why would you strike off on your own? Did something happen?”

“You happened.”

Short. Simple. Concise.

Completely baffling.

Not that that was anything new today.

Maybe it’s Hawk’s imagination, but the knife loosens a little.

“Don’t you get it?” For the first time all night, something like genuine anguish prods through Demetri’s voice. “I meant what I said. I never gave a rat’s ass about the karate wars, or the stupid dojo feuds. All I ever wanted was to be worth your fucking time again.”

All Hawk can do is stare.

It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes any fucking sense.

“And sure,” Demetri concedes after a moment. “At first, I wanted to do right by Mr. LaRusso. By Sam. They were the ones who taught me. Toughened me up into something worthwhile. Worked with all the shit you thought was a lost cause. But it was always a means to an end to stay relevant to you. Then after what happened with Moon, I genuinely thought the Miyagi-Do philosophy would help you. But I learned soon enough that you were in too deep for appealing to the Old Eli to work. No, I had to speak to you in your own language.”

He licks his lips as the knife starts to slide up Hawk’s neck again, dancing over the bottom of his chin and onto the plump skin of his lips.

“Aggression. Violence. Dominance.” He chuckles. “Wasn’t my go-to, but if it got your attention, I could make it work. And I guess I did, huh? I riled you up enough that you couldn’t leave me alone.”

“You wanted to piss me off?”

“If that’s what it took to keep you coming back for more.” And there it is again—that wide, sadistic grin that feels so brutally wrong. “You can leave me, Eli. You can disown me. You can shit on everything we had and make my life a living hell. But you can’t bring yourself to just ignore me. Because you’re so weak that you can’t bear to refuse the bait when I press your buttons. Because as much as you claim to hate me, you can’t move on from me.”

“And now you ditch your team to…what? Fight me on your own?” Hawk matches Demetri’s grin with one of his own. “I’d wreck you. And deep down, you know it.”

“So presumptuous.” Demetri shakes his head, tutting. “Frankly, I came here tonight because I’m sick of fighting you.”

“Says the one with a knife to my throat.”

“That’s because you don’t fucking listen without me having to resort to extreme measures,” Demetri hisses. “I think we’re a lot closer to being on the same page than you think. And maybe if you dropped this whole tribalism bullshit, you’d see that.”

So Demetri wants a truce. Hawk should have known.

He’s not surprised. But the way they arrived here?

Now that’s a twist.

It’s still an insane concept. Like he’s supposed to let his greatest enemy off the hook. Let Demetri get away with all the ways he’s undermined him and humiliated him and put the Old Eli—the weak, pathetic nerd Eli—on blast for all the world to see.

But if Demetri really left Miyagi Do…

Hawk finds himself wondering how much of his rage against the Miyagi Dos is his own, and how much is Sensei Kreese’s. And if Demetri’s truly deserted “the enemy,” does Hawk still have to hate him?

Does he even want to?

Demetri isn’t that pathetic, sniveling dweeb anymore. He’s crushed his old self as brutally as Hawk has.

Because the Demetri Hawk has known all his life could scarcely bring himself to cook with sharp knives, let alone use one to threaten another human being’s life.

Or take one.

But despite everything, something still doesn’t add up.

“I heard about your little rousing speech,” Hawk says. “About how important it was for Miyagi Do and Eagle Fang to unite against the ‘biggest assholes in the Valley.’ And now you’ve abandoned both of them. Was that all just a load of crap, then?”

Demetri is unfazed.

“Call me naïve, but I thought if Miguel and I were on the same team, you’d finally see some damn sense. You’d hurt me, sure. I’ve known that for a while. But I never thought you’d touch the kid you went on a vengeance quest for.” He shrugs. “Color me surprised when you wrote him off as just another enemy.”

“I told you.” Hawk works his fingers against the wall again, uneasiness trickling over his skin. “Miguel chose his side.”

“Be that as it may. I figured if you were so far gone that you were ready to wail on literally every person you used to be friends with, I needed to adjust my strategy.”

“For what?”

“For getting through to you. For getting you to tell the truth.”

And Hawk doesn’t want to think for too long about what truth Demetri has in mind.

“So you pull out a fucking knife.”

“Mhm.” Demetri snickers. “That’s how you communicate, yeah? Threats and intimidation?”

Hawk clenches his jaw. “I’m not scared of you.”

“Is that so.” The arm suddenly lifts from squeezing Hawk’s chest, long fingers seizing his wrist. He’s too surprised to pry them away.

He really should be expecting this kind of insane bullshit by now.

“Your pulse is going haywire, Eli,” Demetri murmurs. “Either you’re a liar, or something else has you energized. I wonder what that could be?”

It’s then Hawk’s mind fully catches up to its surroundings.

He rips his wrist away, pivoting away from the knife and sending a knee into Demetri’s ribs. The knife tip slices his cheek, but so be it. He’s endured worse.

Demetri gasps, stumbling back. Hawk makes a grab for the knife.

The taller boy is still too quick. He holds the weapon out of reach, using his other arm to thrust Hawk’s body back.

Before Demetri can do anything else, Hawk squats down and sweeps his leg. With a grunt, his opponent stumbles to the floor.

Something seizes Hawk’s ankles as he stands. He cries out as he’s yanked backward with surprising force, landing on the floor next to Demetri.

Hawk scrambles for the bed, trying to writhe out of Demetri’s grip and hoist himself up by the covers.

It’ll be over when I have the high ground.

What a stupid reference to think about.

It reminds him of the kind of game he and Demetri might have once played. Whoever made it onto the bed would get to be Obi-Wan, and whoever stayed on the floor would have to be Anakin, drowning in lava.

The idea leaves him feeling strange.

Demetri doesn’t let go, snarling like a hyena as he tries to tug Hawk back. The knife teases his skin, an imminent threat if he makes any moves too sudden.

He’d kick the annoying asshole away from him, but he doesn’t want the sole of his foot sliced open. If he can’t walk, he can’t fight.

Suddenly, Demetri cries out, grip loosening. In Hawk’s struggles, he must’ve rammed into a sensitive spot. He yanks himself free, scrambling onto the bed and frantically trying to plan his next move.

He realizes his mistake a half-second too late.

Demetri, gleefully bluffing, rises to his full height. Smirking, he pounces like a jaguar.

He lands heavily on Hawk’s stomach, slamming him against the bed. The back of his head smacks against the headboard, filling his vision with stars.

He barely has time to let out a pained gasp before Demetri’s knees are digging into his quadriceps, pinning him again. Growling, he aims a punch at Demetri’s throat.

His fist meets its target, pulling a strangled gasp. Hawk clasps his arms around Demetri’s torso, trying to thrust him off the bed.

For a moment they struggle, yanking and shoving wildly in an attempt to gain an advantage. Then Hawk feels long arms wrap around his back, bony fingers clutching at his throat.

The tingling pain of blade against skin, and Hawk realizes Demetri kept hold of his knife.

Whenever I think he’s finally going to drop that damned thing…

The knife jabs into him, strengthening its grip until he’s pressed flat on his back. At last Demetri loosens his grip, sizing up his victim with a satisfied beam.

Hawk squirms, bed creaking as he does his best to jostle Demetri off. The other boy holds fast, gazing down at him with a pitying look.

The blade digs in again, and Hawk’s struggles weaken.

“Come now. How many times do we have to go over this?”

“Let. Me. Go.”

“I don’t believe I was finished.”

Demetri tilts his head to the side, breaking into another crazed grin that sends dread trickling straight down to Hawk’s bones.

“Shut up Demetri.”

“I see you staring at me. All this time, and all these girls you tried so hard to fuck, and everything always comes back to your stupid middle school infatuation.”

“SHUT UP!”

Hawk squeezes his eyes shut, trying to bleach Demetri’s cold, smug expression from his mind.

“Right after you had your Bar Mitzvah, you asked me to kiss you. You figured since I already had mine, we were both adults now. And adults do grown-up things like kissing.”

“STOP IT!”

And suddenly Hawk is screaming at the top of his lungs because he knows where this is going. Because they were just stupid kids, and that can’t mean anything.

“I said of course I would, because I’d always liked you, Eli.” Demetri’s voice only grows louder—more insistent. “And I go in to give you a peck, and you grab my arms and stick your entire tongue in my mouth.”

“Shut the fuck up, Demetri!”

He feels something wet dribbling down his face, and wonders if the cut on his cheek got stretched wider in his and Demetri’s scuffle. It’s certainly stinging enough for it.

Unless…

Hawk wishes he could dissolve.

“I told you I’d kiss you a thousand more times if you wanted.” Demetri’s voice has grown sharper than his blade. “And I would have. And for a long while, I thought there might be the most infinitesimal possibility that you felt something, too. Now I know I was right.”

He laughs, the sound acrid and bitter and full of flint.

“Because even after everything, you’re still obsessed with me. You watch me across the lunchroom and pretend you’re ‘monitoring the enemy,’ but I know you miss me. You miss when I made you laugh, and you miss when I talked to people so you didn’t have to. You chase me around in every battle, but when it comes right down to it, you can’t hurt me in any significant way until you’re bullied into it. You pick fights with me so you can put your hands all over my body and not have anyone look at you askance for it.”

“FUCK YOU!”

Maybe if he screams loud enough, Demetri won’t pay too much attention to the wet trails smearing the blood from his cuts.

Caustic breath is hovering inches above Hawk, misting onto his lips. Still, he refuses to open his eyes.

“It must be exhausting, you know,” Demetri whispers. “Living your life in denial like that. Wearing your entire personality like some cheap Halloween costume and convincing yourself that’s a fulfilling existence. Don’t you want to be free?”

“I’m not hiding anything,” Hawk growls. “I do whatever I like. It’s not my fault you don’t like who I really am.”

“Who you really are, hmmm?” Demetri’s lips brush his earlobe, voice a barely-audible murmur. “So tell me the truth then, Eli. Do you still want me?”

The bluntness of the question almost blows a hole in his composure.

“Of course I don’t.”

“Stop fucking lying!”

All at once, Demetri’s voice is a deafening, furious scream again. The knife slices Hawk’s jaw.

Not enough to do any real harm, but enough to really hurt. Hawk freezes, held prisoner by the burst of sharp, sudden pain.

“It’s always lies, lies, lies with you,” Demetri snarls. “Fake name. Fake hair color. Fake personality. Fake interests. Fake friends who only kiss the ground you walk on because they’ve never seen you at your weakest. Fake relationships with girls you barely let know you—to the point you think they’d leave you for liking to code. And the absolute drivel you feed yourself that this goddamn farce is what you want to live in forever. You think you’re starring in some martial arts epic, and you’re so wrapped up in your stupid method acting that you never want to step offscreen. Like everyone’s on the edge of their seat about your pitiful life like it’s the fucking Truman Show. And at the end of the day? You’re still too much of a pussy to tell me the truth.”

Hawk’s skin tingles, shivers rippling through him. If his heart was pounding before, it’s thundering now.

Somehow it doesn’t feel like fear. He’s used to this new version of Demetri enough not to cower from him.

No, it’s something far worse. And Demetri knows it.

“You can’t hide from me.” The other boy’s tone drips with haughtiness, savoring the ability to confirm Hawk’s worst fears. “I see right through your bullshit. I always have. So I’ll ask you one more time. Do you want me?”

The knife slides down to Hawk’s throat again, pressing firmly.

“Lie and I’ll kill you.”

He’s probably bluffing. Maybe. Surely.

Perhaps it doesn’t matter anymore. Sprawled out on his childhood bed, underneath the only other person he frequently shared it with.

The person he used to watch sleep, wondering wistfully if the freak with the lip scar ever made it into his best friend’s dreams.

He opens his eyes and finally meets Demetri’s gaze, in all of its searing, insurmountable beauty.

“Yeah.”

He breathes it out quiet and fragile—a soft promise. A rare moment of openness that he lets free of his unbreakable shell.

Demetri drops the knife. It falls behind the bed, thumping onto the carpet below.

He swoops down, seizing Hawk’s neck and yanking him up. When their mouths meet, Hawk is nearly thrown back with the force of it.

Demetri kisses like a starved animal, lapping and nipping in a crazed frenzy. The weight of his muscle-toned body is crushing, locking Hawk firmly against the mattress.

He tastes like blood and cold steel and cruelty. Hawk shudders.

This time, he’s certain it isn’t fear. It’s a rush he only thought he could get from smashing his fists against plastic or skin, or feeling another person’s body go limp and lifeless underneath his.

And it’s ironic. The more Demetri tries to devour Hawk, the more Hawk wants to let it happen.

There’s an odd satisfaction to it, he thinks. Being completely at someone else’s mercy.

And Demetri isn’t fighting with any.

***

OKAY, time for some #authorrants because I feel like some of the choices I made in this fic are. Controversial, to say the least. Lmao.

So something that has bugged the crap out of me for a while now is people in this fandom acting like there is any world where Demetri would choose Robby over Miguel. I remember after S3 dropped, there was a lot of "dId tHeY fOrGeT tHe dEmEtRi-rObBy FrIeNdShIp" type sentiment floating around irt why Demetri didn't stay in contact with Robby the way Sam and the LaRussos did. Maybe it's because, I don't know, Robby threw the guy Demetri never actually stopped being close friends with over a balcony and almost killed him???

Like. Not that these showrunners don't ever forget things, but this absolutely is not one of them. Robby paralyzing Miguel is a BEYOND valid reason to sever ties with him, especially when you were just casual dojo bros for a couple months tops. When push came to shove, Demetri pretty unequivocally CHOSE MIGUEL. He brought him a comic book in the hospital! He was thrilled to see him back at school and picked up their friendship right where it left off! He DOES NOT VISIBLY FORGIVE ROBBY UNTIL MIGUEL DOES! Idk idk it just really riles me when people do not take Demetri and Miguel's friendship into account when discussing the Demetri-Robby relationship and why they stopped being friends when they did. Tbh I don't think it's that hot of a take to assume Demetri would have more loyalty to the guy who befriended him when he was a nobody and proceeded to be one of his closest ride-or-die friends for a whole-ass year over the guy he was casual buds with because they happened to share a karate instructor -_____- I could go on about this for several more paragraphs, but that's a rant for another day.

(As far as the LaRussos go, they were all closer to Robby and were basically his adoptive family, which is why they--particularly Sam--were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and say the Miguel thing was an accident. Demetri didn't know Robby well enough to make that call, and had no actual proof it WAS an accident except for maybe Sam's word.)

Some other things to ramble about:

I remember in some interview a while back (I think with Martin Kove?) someone asked about Hawk and Marty or whoever was being interviewed said he was "on his way to being a serial killer" or smth. And Jacob's talked a little bit about the kind of escalating delinquent shit Hawk would get up to if he was never redeemed, etc. So going with that: Bold of y'all to assume the kid simping for Hawk since episode 1 wouldn't renounce his morals and join him on the path to villainy. Sorry but I truly believe Demetri's horniness for Hawk can and would win out over any ethical qualms in the end. Also Demetri is horny for violence and evil this is canon otherwise he would in fact not have simped for S3 Hawk so PAINFULLY BADLY god bless

Also this was partly inspired by those post-S3 jokes that were like "lol what happened to Brucks??? Did Hawk kill him???"...well, what if he did, tho? O_____O

Disclaimer that I promise I do not endorse the Tory slut-shaming!!! Tbh I didn't really wanna write it, but...I think given the circumstances, Hawk WOULD be pretty furious at her for getting chummy with Robby and "betraying" Miguel. And unfortunately, since he's a teenage boy with (canonical!) misogynistic tendencies...I do think that would most likely come across as slut-shaming D: But y'all have brains y'all know I don't condone everything I write about aknhdksuyhf (Murder is probably not something you should try at home either btw)

Hopefully I didn't make Hawk too weaksauce in this ^^; My excuses are a) I suck at writing fight scenes and tend to just want to get to the psychosexual dialogue and knife-teasing, so. If I rushed anything to get there I apologize. b) Going by the school fight, Hawk is indeed thrown off when Demetri takes the offensive (especially in a super dramatic kind of way) and his confused pause is in fact enough time for Demetri to get an advantage and c) The man is thrown off his game!!! Thrown off his groove, even!!! His sissy pussy nerd ex-friend shows up acting like a disturbed maniac and he is so O_____o about it that his moves are off!!! He's sucking a little but it's not his fault 💔It's Demetri's for subverting expectations 💔

I also feel like if Demetri started McFucking Losing It and was generally less grounded in the physical and rational world, physical pain wouldn't register quite as much. Like he's in his head enough now that he's kinda lost his grip on reality and things happening in the physical world don't seem as relevant or immediate, if that makes any sense? Also idk. Maybe after the arm break his pain tolerance just went up :O Anyways that's why he recovers pretty fast when Hawk DOES land a hit. Demetri is nuts now 💙

I will die on my hill that Demetri like. Really REALLY isn't as morally upstanding as people like to think XD Like I say this with love but from the top he's been a self-interested little shit who just happens to be extremely loyal to the very small handful of people he actually likes. My dudes, he didn't join Miyagi Do because he liked their philosophy better--he joined because they were less on board with punching him in particular in the face XD This dude saw Cobra Kai being fucks and playing dirty at the AVT and he STILL up and says "I wanna come back because I like the 'safety in numbers' aspect of joining a gang" XD I always got the vibe the "well at least I'm not an asshole LIKE YOU" he throws at Eli later is more because he likes to feel self-righteous. I say all of this as his biggest fan btw. I think more people should embrace the self-interested king he is and write about him and Eli being absolute dicks together instead of to each other 💖

I guess that's what I'm here for!!!

Anyways I think Demetri and Eli have the same potential to be absolutely horrific people, and I think we're all very lucky that Demetri was too lazy to challenge his comfort zone and stick with Cobra Kai XD We're very fortunate he happened to end up using his speed and his brains to help his friends who happened to be on the Good Guy Side rather than his friends who happened to be on the Bad Guy Side.

I also think people put WAY too much stock in Demetri's ability to staunchly stick with the good guys and have enough of a moral backbone to just keep opposing Eli's douchebaggery indefinitely. My mans is NOT that much of a saint, trust. From how quickly he forgave Eli for a HUGE number of atrocities, he seemed to be like. Waiting on his ass for Eli to come back to him. And if Eli never did???

I mean. Bruh. Someone you've been deeply in love with for years throws you out like last night's trash and just progressively starts being more and more awful to you??? You think it's feasible for my boy Demetri to stay strong and sane and reasonable forever, and just keep on fighting the good fight??? HELL NO. This dude is either a) quitting karate and moving schools so he doesn't have to deal with constantly being pummeled by the dude he's in love with or b) going completely fucking insane from the cognitive dissonance of being in love with a dude who constantly beats his ass.

Listen. I have been in love. If my friend who I was in love with turned evil and joined an evil karate school and started wailing on me all the time, I would either pull an Aisha and haul ass out of there or I would simply lose my mind and become evil. Go full Jinx from Arcane. Sorry if you're a hater who doesn't think Demetri Alexopoulos has it in him to go apeshit, but you're wrong and also boring. The funny kooky comic relief guys are always one thread away from losing their shit because everyone assumes because they're funny and kooky they have no depth and no end to their bullshit tolerance. I would know because I am one of these Guys in real life. Put some respecc on my boy's name and also give him another knife 🔪

For anyone looking at me askance like "Demetri doesn't have it in him to kill!" Yes he does. I'm sending him over to your house to stab you right now 🩵

No fr tho, like there was MURDER in this man's eyes when Kyler was bullying Eli in the library. There was MURDER in this man's eyes fighting Robby at the AVT in S4. I have full confidence that if he could get away with stabbing his enemies, he would. So would Eli but I feel like this is a less contested opinion.

Also this is interesting so it's something I might go into detail about in another post, but one thing I noticed while kinda brainstorming how Demetri would snap is that Demetri is loyal to people, while Eli is loyal to concepts and ideas.

Demetri I don't think is actually that married to or slavish about MD principles tbh. Demetri isn't really averse to violence conceptually (even back in S1 it's only ever about him disliking BEING hit, not disliking hitting people!!) and doesn't actually do the defense-only thing that often. Several times we see him instigate with Hawk, or help Sam instigate with CK in general. The times we see him stick his neck out to really help Miyagi Do, he seems like he's doing so more out of loyalty to his friends (namely Sam, Chris, and Nate--also Miguel irt the dojo team-up at the end of S3) than loyalty to Miyagi Do as a dojo.

Eli, meanwhile, is way more loyal to concepts he puts a lot of stock in than the people in his life who challenge this. He sees Cobra Kai as this almighty saving grace that is for LIFE, and he doesn't think twice about ditching Demetri and Miguel when they turn their backs on it. He stays in this dojo even as his friends leave and it fills up with people he hates, and his sensei dismisses and ignores his concerns. Because this dojo saved him from his horrible, bullied life, and now he feels like he owes everything to the Cobra Kai name, despite who's actually behind the name. Also why I think Demetri uses "my karate dojo needs your help!" as the selling point to get Eli to join MD in S4. HIS motivation is probably much more that he just wants him and Eli to stay together, but he knows Eli values dojo loyalty above everything, so Dem kinda makes it more about that than friendship.

Anyways! That's all for now! The whole fic should be up on my AO3 sometime in December :3

[scalefeathers]

heyyyyyy guess who’s back on my bullshit (me it’s me)

jinx • hooded crow • 'morrig' ekko • barn owl • 'rada'

[notsoattractivearenti]

Polar Opposites (Christian Pulisic x Reader) - Part 4

WC: 2.0K

Warnings: curse words, drinking/alcohol

A/N: We're so close to the end! 🥹 Before reading this part, make sure you have read the previous parts 😉 I hope you all enjoy and I'd love to hear your thoughts thru reply/reblog/ask 🫶 If you wanna be added to the taglist let me know 😊 Feedbacks are highly appreciated!

| PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 |

---

Bachelorette party was tonight. Claire didn’t want to have bridesmaids because she thought having you as Person of Honor was enough. You – as someone who loves planning basically everything ­– invited some friends of Claire and arranged the whole thing by yourself. She didn’t request for anything but one – no strippers, which you gladly accepted because you didn’t really think that would be a good idea and knowing Claire, she wouldn’t feel comfortable.

At the time, you and Christian were still texting each other. But you were also still uncertain about your feelings for him, so you kept pulling back and forth. Some days, you would be all friendly, but the other days you would act a little cold towards him – maybe too cold. You even confused yourself because you had never been in this kind of situation before. The thing was, even when you hadn’t replied to his text for 2 days, he kept on sending you new messages every day.

It was Friday evening when the party started. One week prior, you had made a table reservation at yours and Claire’s favorite nightclub – you were looking forward for the party. You just want to distract yourself from the biggest inner struggle at the moment – which was figuring out what you really feel about certain someone.

“Yes!” You talked to yourself as you walked in to the club, unaware your voice were quite loud. “I can’t wait to finally ‘drink to forget’!” 

Claire raised her eyebrows. “Drink to forget? To forget what?”

“Uh, what?” You looked at Claire all confused, before you realized she heard what you said before. “Oh nothing. Forget nothing. Just forget I even said anything.”

You felt your phone vibrated on your pocket, so you took it out and saw 3 new messages from Christian. 

Is the bachelorette party tonight?

Have fun! 🙌🏻

Don’t get too drunk 😂 Rehearsal dinner is tomorrow

You texted him back before putting your phone away.

can’t promise anything lol thanks

The time you all got to the table, plenty of drinks – mostly cocktails and shots – had been served. You immediately grabbed 2 shot glasses and ready to start off the party with a toast.

“Everyone, let’s raise our glasses,” you started your toast, “to send off our beloved bride-to-be, Claire to marriage life!”

“Let’s drink and have some fun!”

---

That night, you had a lot of drink – too much, you were pretty boozy.

It was already 12 AM, but since you were still very drunk you didn’t notice time. You were laying on the sofa, then got on your phone, and drunk dialed a number – you weren’t aware it was Christian’s number. He didn’t pick up because he was asleep, so your call went straight to voicemail.

“This is Christian Pulisic, leave your message.”

“Heyyyyyy whaa- Christian? I d’no why I call yeeee” you slurred your speech, you were genuinely surprised to hear his voice.

“I uh, I guess I uhh...” you took a shot of vodka before continuing, “ahhh, I just wanna say, I fuckin hate yer guts!”

“But Chrissss...” your began to murmured, "I thinkkkk I wike yooouuu...”

 “Ohhh pffftt, I mean wike! No, ughhh,” you groaned, “like. Theeeereee I say itttttt... I la-la-la-like youuuu.”

“Aaaanyway, imma go have more drinks,” you said as you got off to take another shots, “bye there!” You hung up your phone and threw it to the sofa.

---

The next morning, you woke up with a bad hangover – your day started with a throbbing headache and vomits, you reeked of alcohol. 

“Ugh, Claire, my head fucking hurts,” you complained to Claire, “I must’ve drunk too much last night.”

“Yeah you fucking did!” She laughed. “Y/N, you were so out of control last night it was funny to watch!”

“Did I do something stupid? Please, please tell me I didn’t.”

“I mean... Uh...” She tried to recall. “Nothing illegal though, so uh... You’re good I guess?”

You were relieved. “Okay good. Shit, I’m going to sober up for the rehearsal dinner tonight.”

“YOU BETTER BE,” Claire jokingly screamed into your ears, she was amused by how hungover you were and wanted to get a reaction out of you.

“Ah!!! Fuck you Claire!” You covered your ears and squeezed your eyes shut. “That was too loud!”

“I don’t care,” she chuckled. “Go shower and brush your teeth a million times, you smell like a walking bar.”

---

It was finally time for rehearsal dinner. You still were a little hangover, but at least you could function a lot better than this morning. Because you didn’t think you could handle alcohol just yet, you skipped the champagne for the night and had water instead.

As you skimmed the room, you saw Christian was coming over. You tried to act cool even though your heart was beating really fast.

“So...” He started the conversation the moment he stood next to you, “how was bachelorette party, Y/N? Bet you had too much fun.”

“It was fine.” You answered coldly.

“You know, I got a voicemail from someone...”

You gave him a side eye. You thought whatever he was about to say wasn’t that important, so you tried to not give him any attention.

“It’s not just a voicemail, it’s actually umm... A confession?” He smirked.

You started to feel curious. “What do you mean?”

“Someone told me they, uh, how do they say it... Oh, wike! Wait, no. Umm, lalalalike me?”

Your eyes widened. It sounded familiar, but you really couldn’t recall why.

“Wait, did I call you last night???” You nervously asked.

He jokingly asked you back. “I don’t know, did you?”

“Come on Christian,” You whined. “Be serious! I really have no memories about any fucking things after what seemed like to be my one hundredth drink last night.”

“Let me refresh your memory.” He took his phone out of his pocket, then gave you a listen to a voicemail you didn’t remember sending. You covered your face and grumbled – you couldn’t even look at him. At the moment, you felt you were ready to grab a fork and stabbed yourself with it.

“Fuck Christian I-” you stuttered out of embarrassment, “I... I am so... so so so sorry I left you that message. I- I really don’t remember even calling you!”

“That’s okay. I get it, you were drunk. Well, at least now we know alcohol brings honesty out of you.” 

“Oh God...” You whimpered.

“Look, Y/N, sorry that you hate my guts, but-”

“Can you just um, erase that?” You asked him anxiously. “And uh, forget it ever happened?” 

He frowned. “Why?”

“Uh... I didn’t even know what I was talking about. I mean... I was clearly under the influence.” 

“Wait,” he said quietly, “don’t you want to know what I think?”

 “I... I don’t...” You stuttered. “I don’t kn-”

“Y/N, Christian!” You two heard Claire called your names and waved. “It’s time!”

You nodded at her, then went back to Christian. “Let’s go there, come on.”

“Yeah sure.” He coldly walked away, he seemed really hurt.

For the entire rehearsal dinner, Christian didn’t talk to you. He glanced at you once in a while, but that was it. You were just really ashamed because of that drunk voicemail you sent him – how you basically told him how you felt about him. 

---

At the end of the dinner, you finally had the courage to talk to him.

“Christian,” you tapped his shoulder, “can we talk for a minute?”

“Sure,” he said as he pulled a chair next to him, he didn’t even look at you.

You sat there, and there was a moment of silence.

He finally broke the silence, “what is it?”

“Uh, listen...” You took a deep breath. “The truth is, I’m still unsure of how I feel about you.”

“I have never had feelings to anyone like you. You can be insufferable most of the times, and the thought of that bothers me...”

“Well that’s flattering.” He blurted.

“You know what I mean!” You shouted.

“Anyway, it’s just... What if this feeling is temporary? What if our two, contrasting personalities could never work? I don’t want to get hurt, Christian. I just can’t.” You whimpered.

He listened, but he didn’t say a word.

“I am embarrassed that I sent you that message. That’s why I asked you to delete and forget. And I have yet to figure out how I really feel about you.” You explained.

He pressed his lips together and nodded, but still no words came out.

“Well... Don’t you have something to say to me?” You asked.

“Oh, me?” He pointed at himself. “Tsk. I don’t know.”

“Uh, okay...” You said nervously. “I guess I’ll le-”

As you were ready to leave, you heard him softly confessed, “I like you too.”

You froze for a minute. It felt like your heart stopped beating and the time just stopped ticking – you couldn’t help to let out a smile. “Go on.”

“I was so glad you sent me that voicemail, Y/N. It was the perfect start of my day. I don’t care whether you were drunk or not, at least I now know how you feel about me.” He admitted, his voice sounded shaky. “So when you asked me to pretend it never happened, it hurt me.”

“Chris...”

“I’m not done.” He stopped you.

“Not only that, I don’t know if you notice but you’ve been so hot and cold with me for months! It’s exhausting.” He admitted.

In response, you mouthed “I’m sorry.”

“Look, I’m not going to ask you to make up your mind now, but just so you know... I’m into you. Like, really into you. No matter how much I ‘despise’ you.” He said, giving you a little smile at the end.

You chuckled. “Thank you, Christian.”

You smiled and gazed into each other’s eyes in silent until you heard Claire called your name.

“Y/N! Let’s go home!”

“Oh, I have to go,” you said as you got off your seat. “The bride needs me.”

“See you tomorrow, Best Man.”

“Can’t wait, Person of Honor.”

---

You had spent the last two nights at Claire’s, while Nick stayed over at Christian’s. You hadn’t stopped smiling since the conversation you had with Christian and Claire noticed that.

“Y/N... What’s going on with you?” She asked.

“What?”

“You seem way too happy and it’s freaking me out!” She laughed. “Does Christian have something to do with this?”

You jokingly acted surprised, even though she was right. “How bold of you to assume that!”

“Well does he though? Y/N, I’m not going to sleep before you tell me everything!” Claire demanded.

“No! Are you kidding? Tomorrow’s your wedding... You need enough sleep!”

“You know Y/N, it is the rule to always say ‘yes’ to the bride.”

You playfully gasped. “Are you seriously using your bride card right now?”

“Indeed I am,” she said proudly, “now talk!”

“Ugh fine,” you hesitantly gave up, “I’ll tell you. Bear with me.”

You told her about the drunk voicemail and how it ended up with Christian confessing his feeling to you. Claire – who basically has been rooting for you and him – was very delighted to hear the story.

But she was a little concerned about one thing. “So, Y/N, do you... Really like him?”

“I think I am... But I’m not sure.”

“You have to figure it out very soon, Y/N. He’s not going to wait forever, you know? Don’t toy with his feelings.” She advised.

“I’m aware, but you know it’s not that easy, right? I have no idea why I become this indecisive.” Your voice started breaking. “This shit... It has been messing with my head for fucking months now...” 

“We’re just... How do you say it?” You tried to think of the term. “Uh, polar opposite?”

“I understand,” she sympathized, “but maybe you’re thinking too much into it.”

You nodded, you were relieved you had the talk with Claire.

“If you want to, Y/N,” she continued, “you can work those differences out.”

You went silent for a while, thinking about what Claire just said to you. Maybe she’s right? Can we work it out?

---

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @masonspulisic @swimmingismywholelife @chelseagirl98 @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @mortirolo @masonsrem @cinderellawithashoe @alwaysclassyeagle @ala2ilas-s

[wtfuckevenknows]

For the 100 ways prompt: 99.“Be careful.”

Heyyyyyy,

guess who was just plotting, had an idea for some dialogue and accidentally ended up with a drabble? I fucking love when that happens, so I'm leaving it as it is.

I combined this with @noxsoulmate prompt 86. “You’re important too.”

“Hey,” Carlos grabs TK’s wrist before he can walk into the fire. He tugs him back and presses a quick kiss to his lips. They usually refrain from showing any kind of affection while they’re on the job, but this is a dangerous mission and Carlos needs this right now.  “Be careful. Don’t do something stupid and reckless, please.”  “I won’t. But this is dangerous without me being reckless. And the patient needs me, I have to do everything I can to save him.” “I know. But you’re important too.”  TK squeezes his hand before disappearing into the burning tunnel.

You can find the other One Hundred Ways to Say 'I Love You' prompt fills here or on ao3 here & here. The next one (at 4.2k) might be up tomorrow 😬

[earemoji]

heyyyyyy yalllll guess who’s back

[enbynautolanenjoyer]

Salutations, friend! This is the headmate roundup?? Based on the poll from a while back, y’all wanted the whole gang. I wasn’t able to get everyone to write their own intros, but I think we got most of us to cooperate lmao.

Everyone is under the cut bc there’s a lot of us dweebs lmaoooo

Dee

Hello! I am Di’kut, or Dee. I’m the host of our traumagenic system, uhhh.. system name pending. I kinda set this up as simply as possible so it wouldn’t take too long for everyone to fill out haha. Nice to meet you!! I am…

20 years old

They/she

Lesbian?? Sapphic?? Idk I like women but specifically anime men are hot, too

Current song stuck in head: The Red Means I Love You

Favorite Food: pastaaaaaa

Favorite drink: chocolate milk

Other: I am super spacey. Help 😭😭😭

Dezmond

Hi. I’m Dez. Uh. God I have not fronted in quite a while. This is a trifling matter. I do not have a proper age. I am tall despite this pathetic small body. I hail from England. He/him. I am bisexual. I haven’t listened to music in a long time. I don’t really have a favorite consumable item. I’m going back to my cave now. Farewell.

Aaron

Hello, there. My name is Aaron, and I am an “introject” sourced from Criminal Minds. Please note: I am not like the actor who portrays me. Let’s see…

My age is around thirty-seven.

I go by he/him pronouns. I am cis male.

I am bisexual.

I am in a relationship with my fellow headmates, Spencer and Reginald.

I am not too tech-savvy. Forgive me for any mistakes.

Margaret

Helloooooo!! My name is Margaret! The spelling may change randomly 😭😭😭😭 You may also call me Maggie! I am British like Dezmond. 😊😊 Pleased to meet you all!!

I am around my early to mid twenties!!

She/her please!!

I am a lesbian :)

Current song… well, I don’t have one stuck in my head at the current moment! However, I do like I Like Me Better by Lauv!

Favorite food: Pringles original!

Favorite drink: water is just fine for me :)

Spencer

Hi! My name is Spencer, and I am an introject based off of Criminal Minds’ Spencer Reid. I enjoy a good puzzle.

27

He/him transmasc

Gay (Happy Pride Month, by the way!)

Current Song: What You Are in the Dark by Trails

Favorite Food: Bananas

Favorite Drink: Those Cirkul Strawberry flavor things you flavor water with

I am in a relationship with Aaron and Reginald!

Tara

Hey, there. I’m Tara, and I’m also a Criminal Minds introject. I don’t front often, but I do like to read.

30s

She/her

Bisexual

Current song: none

Favorite food: spaghetti

Favorite drink: none

Reginald

Hello. I’m Reginald, or Reggie. I am the combination of two introjects who manifested into one unit. I am in a relationship with my dear Spencer and Aaron. It is nice to meet you all, but I’m afraid I dislike fronting. It will likely be a while until I return. Please have a good day.

BIRCH

HEYYYYYY!!!!! IM BIRCH!!! Nice to make yalls acquaintance! I go by she/her usually but I hardly understand myself half the time so feel free to refer to me however???? LMAO

Noel

Heyyy. My name is Noel as you’ve just read. I’m kinda the big sibling round these parts. Fancy meeting you here.

I don’t really have an age. I guess I kinda look like I’m in my late teens, early twenties? Adult ish I suppose. =w=

I go by whatever pronouns. I’m the kinda person that sorta looks female enough but not quite one y’know? Pieck Finger from AOT is my viiiibe. Love her.

No clue on my orientation tbh. I’m here and I’m queer.

Current song: I’m dying in your arms tonight~

Favorite food: gummy bears ✨✨

Favorite drink: strawberry milk 👍

I existed long before we ever watched AOT, but maybe gonna feel cute and restructure my entire existence around Pieck. Feeling a little raggedy girly pop like that 🫣

Anya

Tried getting Anya to type her’s out, but it was so unnatural KSKDDDJ So, hello, it’s me, Dee. Anya is an introject from Spy x Family. She’s the little, so she probably won’t be on much! She loves Nutella, she wanted you all to know that.

Deziray

It’s Dee again!! Deziray is an odd case. We know almost nothing about them. They’re kinda spooky?? 💀💀💀 They probably won’t ever come on, either.

Justice 😎😎😎

Heyyy wassup girlies and gays? My name is Justice, and I’m from Helltaker. I like to chill and have a good time~

I’m pretty old ig? Lol

She/her

Lesbian

Current song: Eye of the Tiger 🐯✨✨

Favorite food: pancakes, or waffles!

Favorite drink: extremely sweetened coffee. Mostly creamer t b h.

Guzma

ITS YA BOI GUZMA!!! HAHAHAAA! WHATS UUUUUUUP

Im from Pokémon. I’ve probably kicked your ass once or twice heh

I’m like 26 prolly

He/him but not cis I ain’t default

Uh. People are hot ig idk what am I gay

GlitchXCity’s entire discography is A tier stuff my dudes.

I ain’t no goofy goober who has a favorite food what am I gay

K I like smoothies tho they chill

Muichiro

Hi. I’m Mui. I’m from Demon Slayer, and this last episode that came out was very embarrassing. They did not need to expose my paper airplanes like that.

I’m a bit older than my source. I’m actually like 18-20, at least it feels like it. Maybe.

He/him please. Maybe they/them?

I don’t know my orientation.

Can You Feel My Heaaaart *angsty noisessss*

I do enjoy like.. those Lunchables? With the extremely processed ham and crackers? Those are the shit.

Choccy milk is very good. It’s the ol reliable of this system I think haha

I want a cat. I’ll name it Kyo. Short for Kyojuro. Cats are like the owls of mammals, right?

Dixie

Hey, it’s Dee again! Dixie asked me to fill her’s out for her!

18 or 24 specifically.

She/her

Panromantic asexual

Current Song stuck in her head: Summertime Sadness

Favorite Food: cheese pizza

Favorite Drink: coffee with moderate vanilla creamer

Sunny

Um yea hi. So I’m Sunny from OMORI. Kind depressin innit

Uh I’m 16 so don’t be weird

He/him

Straight as far as I know

Current song is the White Space theme which should be obvious

I like ramen

I also like choccy milk

Please don’t ask me about Basil we do not like Basil in this house.

Mari

Good evening, my lovelies~! I’m Mari, from OMORI! Nice to meet all of you!

I am 19~

She/her but he/him on full moons~ haha jk just he/him on occasion~

I am straight!

Never Wanted to Dance~

Cotton candy if that counts~!

Jumping on the chocolate milk bandwagon~!

^w^

Aaaaaalrighty! That’s all of us! Sorta?? Thank you for reading, and there’s the “rest” of us who may or may not exist…

Aaravos

Eren

Mikasa

Kobeni

Ena

[moonspirit]

Okay, I don’t know if you remember me but I was the Anon who asked advice for being a Senior some months ago. I’d like to start by saying that I'm so sorry I went to you for such strange advice, it was very odd for me to do 😭 but anyways I’m here because I’m graduating on the 30th and I guess I thought you’d want to know. I made it!!! Your advice really did help a lot even if I asked it from a desperate place. I’m going to a really good university to study English Literature and Writing. I still read your fanfics and every time I see there’s an update I get super excited!! Anyways, I just wanted to let you know that you helped someone who was in a really dark place and now they’ve made it, so thank you so much and keep writing those fics!! 🩷🩷

Hello omg!! Good to see you back! How have you been??

Please don't apologise for anything - it wasn't strange at all! I actually wondered about you in the meantime - if you were doing well and such.

But heyyyyyy omg, you're graduating!!!! That's amazing news, congratulations! I'm so glad you made it, good job on hanging in there! School is hard, but you saw it through, and now Uni's going to be a totally new experience - so much to look forward to! Even then, when things get a little too difficult and you're worried again, try to remember that if you made it through school; you can make it through Uni too. Doing it one day at a time is good enough. Breathe. And please find time to do the things you love; that really helps.

Thank you so much for telling me; I'm so happy for you, really T_T Go do something nice now! And if you ever need someone to listen to you again - you know you can reach out. I'll be here!

[bunnydasnowman]

Monster girl designs because why not?

Heyyyyyy... It's been a hot minute... uh yeahhhh, but I'm back! Hi guys, or I guess literally anyone who may come across this post, how's it going? Today I bring to you some more spooky stuff, this time in the form of one of my monster girl OCs Candy!

For a while now, one of the staples of my art has been monster girls. When I was younger (and honestly even now) I loved monster high dolls and their movies. Since I could remember I have always loved the more macabre and spooky, and the idea of combining scary with cute is ingenious and scratches my brain very good good.

So recently, I've decided to create some of my own monster girl ocs, and the designing process has been really fun! Candy here was one of the first girls I designed, and I love her so much.

I based Candy off of Frankenstein's monster and the like, as she's a kinda zombie girl. As her name implies, I based her hair off of different candies, mainly multicolored lolly pops (with swirled colors) and candy corn. For her design as a whole, she's based on more modern traditions of Halloween and depictions of such with a more trick or treat type motif. (unofficially almost all of my monster girl designs are based on different Halloween or Halloween adjacent traditions, holidays, and celebrations).

For now, Candy is the only girl whose design is done and hopefully I can show off the rest of my ideas soon!

Until then, drink some water, eat something, or just take a moment to rest and recharge. Please take care of yourself, if I have to do it, id rather not do it alone! Thank you for reading/viewing! :D

[theheroand]

Heyyyyyy Pollen!

That's not a regular way to start a letter, I know, I know. But, who fucking cares? If I'm writing something to someone important to me, I'm doing it the way I want to. Fucked up start and all!

Anywayyys, how's it going, dollface? Probably a lot more fun than what's been going on here. Josie and Isabel are practically all mopey waiting for you to come back, which would be annoying, but... I agree with them. You've been away for what, a few hours? And I'm probably gonna drop by to see you anyways. Guess you just make this place a lot less awful.

I've been messing around with that bracelet you gave me. You know, the matching ones we all have? — Of course you know, you made them!! — It's a nice reminder of you. And a reminder of how you really make things fun!

It's kind of fucked that I can't be with you right now. But we'll be seeing you in a few more hours? That's what I've been telling Josie and Isabel and myself at least.

But, I gotta cut things short for now. I've bumped into, like, 3 different people while writing this, but it was their fault! I'm doing something important here!

See you soon?

~ PJ 💥

OH MY GODDDD> oh MY GODOHOGGMMFN. HI. OH MY GODD OH MY GOD HGJFJGHFJ. HI PJ. OH MY. OH> OH GOSH . OH FUCK. OWHAH.

HEY. HI. HEY HOW ARE YOU DOING. oH MYFUCKING GOD. OH HHH MY GCKING. GOD. OHHH.

[dogydayz]

MILDLY EMBARRASSED TO POST THIS HERE BCUS AM SELF CONSIOUS however I would love for people to see because I need to know if I'm on the right track with writing characters and shit like that. Small take on an interaction between Shadow and Sonic (the assumption here is that they're from a world where Sonic has been combating Eggman for absolute years now, and Shadow has just been watching this happen all the time, totally confused by Sonic's absolute refusal to ever actually, yknow. Kill Eggman. Because that would seemingly end all the "struggles" he has and "fulfill his 'purpose'", at least that's how Shadow views it from his own heavily damaged perspective.)

. . . . . . "A constant struggle. A never-ending spiral. Day in, day out, you never change it. All the power in the world, yet you simply let things continue as they are… Why? And how?"

"Geez, I know it seems pretty violent at times but it's a lot less of a struggle than you seem to think it is! Hell, you're one of the ones who's kept the whole 'constant battling' thing going! Half the time I'm in the middle of stuff and you butt right in!"

"You say that like it annoys you, yet you laugh as the words leave you. Perhaps I simply fail to understand your motives…"

"My motives? My motives are to protect my friends, and those who share a world with us."

"Then why not eliminate the threats? Why not end the constant strain for good?"

"It's…. Not nearly as much of a strain as you seem to think. I enjoy the adventures, the battles, how dynamic everything always is! You know I can't just 'sit back' or 'relax', and neither can you."

"My reasoning is entirely different."

"Oh? Then what is your reasoning?"

"I was designed this way."

"Is that really so different from just… ending up that way? You do know I don't really have control over it yeah?"

"…"

"See, I told you we aren't so different!"

"… You… Enjoy this struggle?…"

"Huh?- Oh.. I mean, I guess? I enjoy doing things, I like to explore, I like to battle, you know how I am!"

"…You never… Feel pressured to finish things? To… 'complete' your task?"

"The only pressure I feel is the pressure of knowing if fail then, well… Things wouldn't be too good!"

"…. That's the difference between us, then."

"Huh?"

"…. You exist for yourself, you work for yourself, you fight for yourself. Life isn't a series of tasks to you, and you never failed every one of them. You don't look at the past and contemplate all you've done wrong, you simply continue ahead… Even if that often puts you into harm's way." "…You know I'd try to say something comforting but I'm pretty sure anything I'd say would just make it worse so-"

"I don't need… comfort. I just… want a break. From feeling the constant mental tug, the need to do SOMETHING… I failed, yet I can't even live that down, I feel like I need to fix it when I CAN'T… There's no use even trying yet… I have to…"

"…You know, I'm starting to think that that whole 'constant spiral' you were referring to was more of a personal thing than something I was doing."

"… You…. Really are so fucking dense, blue hedgehog…"

"What?! Was I supposed to realize you were projecting or something??? Come on man!"

"… Heyyyyyy! Was that a smile just now?"

"What?- No!-"

"Aww come oooon buddy!"

"Do Not call me that.."

"Aaaaalllright, bud!"

"OR THAT!!!-"

Thank you for reading whoever ends up reading this, would like to know if it's a good start or not aaaa!! I love their personalities but I worry a lot about portraying them accurately (continuity be damned too, all i have to go off of are pieces of media where theyre all vastly different from one another). Primarily based around the Prime versions with the added existing angst. If it's received well then I may attempt to make a mini sketch comic from this interaction