#i wish I could go back to being friends with them

[thisweknow]

I very much understand your frustration with the "you! are! valid!" Tumblr culture from the mid-2010s, that was something that honestly made me feel so isolated as a teenager. I hated hearing "it gets better!" and watching my life fall further and further apart with everyone telling me that it would all be fine one day. It felt hypocritical. It WAS hypocritical—to tell me my feelings and my experiences were valid and then to just absolutely steamroll me when I expressed my frustrations and fears.

I started to favor the phrase "everything changes" around the time I turned 16. I liked the idea of neutrality, it was something I'd seen as a suggestion relating to body positivity, which I struggle(d) with greatly. The basic premise was that if you couldn't say anything positive, try saying something neutral. Everything changes is neutral. It's not saying it'll get better necessarily, but not that it would be worse, either. It felt like the closest to a truth I could have. What I was dealing with in any given moment wouldn't last forever. Everything changes, my circumstances today are entirely different than my circumstances tomorrow, even if it doesn't always feel like it.

I've let that phrase carry me for years. In the bad moments I remind myself that everything changes, and the world parts that suck won't suck so immediately forever. In the good moments I remind myself that everything changes, and I should hold on to those and savor them for what they are, even if they're peppered in with the worst moments.

It's not to say that I don't remember the bad moments now—I very much do. I can remember a lot of the trauma of my childhood and if I let myself sit with it for too long I can feel what it was like to sit awake at 3 AM sobbing in my room wishing that I was no longer here. I don't think I will ever truly forget that. I can say that those parts aren't the part on my mind anymore. When I look back at my life I tend to look with rose colored glasses at the parts that were good. The moments I spent with my friends, the nights I'd sneak out to ride my bike in the peace and silence of the small town I lived in, the rehearsals for plays that I dreaded going to but loved being in, the way my dog would curl up at my feet and sleep there all night when I was sad—the list goes on. The bad parts are still very much remembered and acknowledged, but the good parts are the ones I think about and the ones I miss.

I know that I struggled for a long time with feeling guilty about having moments I looked back on that I didn't hate. This was especially true after leaving an abusive relationship. I knew the person I had left had been abusive and had done horrible things to me, that I had sustained damages that I wasn't sure I could recover from. Yet I still had moments I looked back on fondly. Moments where I had genuinely cared for my abuser, moments of sweetness and moments of joy, moments of calm and peace that I hadn't had with anyone else. I felt like looking at those moments somewhat fondly cheapened my experiences, as if it was somehow an admission of fraud to acknowledge that even the worst thing that had ever happened to me had its silver linings. It took years of therapy and dedicated self work to finally understand that abuse doesn't happen in a vacuum and that it's okay to miss those good moments, however many there might be, even when we know the overall situation was awful.

It's okay to savor the good things when they come your way. A journal entry from when I was about 17 sums it up really well: I don't want to be happy all of the time. If I was happy all of the time I wouldn't really feel happy anymore, would I? It would just be my normal, my neutral. I want to feel positive at least 75% of the time, that's my goal. I want to feel sad sometimes, too. I want to feel angry and hurt, I want to feel excited and happy and in love, too. I want to experience every emotion life has to offer, even the sucky ones. I don't think I would appreciate happiness if I didn't experience everything else, yknow?

btw you will miss this in 5 or 10 years. memory will smooth these circumstances down like a river stone, and you will find yourself longing for a shade of light or a moment of this particular innocence. you don't know about what happens next, and one day that will be the most alluring thing of all. don't leave it all for nostalgia. have a nice night now, whatever night it happens to be.

[tthoroughfare]

garden daisy (part 2) // ellie williams

*･゜ﾟ･* summary: ellie makes a new friend, and you feel all weird about it.

*･゜ﾟ･* pairing: modern!ellie x reader

*･゜ﾟ･* content: sfw

*･゜ﾟ･* length: 1.6k

this is part two of this series! find part one here

okay so i feel like the way i've organized this series is kind of confusing as it started as a random blurb... technically part one is this blurb however the real story starts in the xmas fic! the blurb just kind of exists floating around somewhere before the events of that and sets up the dynamic. call it part 0.5 i guess. also i'm so sorry if ur name is haley it was genuinely the first name i thought of hahaha

after christmas, once you’re all settled back into life at college, ellie gets a new job. it’s just a few shifts a week at a music store, but she seems to be enjoying it. you’re happy for her; it’s nice to see her getting out of the apartment more, doing something that allows her to be in her element.

but then she starts mentioning a girl she works with. like, a lot.

“dude, look at what haley sent me today, i was dying.”

“haley had, like, the coolest shirt on at work.”

“oh my god, so i found out haley likes comics, too.”

at first, it doesn’t really bother you. then, it’s a case of you trying not to let it bother you. why even should it? she’s allowed to make new friends; her life doesn’t revolve around you.

still, you don’t like the way your chest starts to twist every time she gets mentioned, every time you see ellie smiling at her phone. you can hear them on facetime frequently through the thin walls of your apartment, and you more often than not end up shoving your headphones in to drown it out.

they start spending time together outside of work, too. she mentions that they’re going to see an exhibit together on a shared day off, and it takes everything for you to look up from your laptop, give her a tight smile and utter, “cool.”

you can tell she’s a bit dispirited by your reaction, like she’s debating saying something. she leaves it, though, just nodding once and pursing her lips before walking away. you kick yourself for it immediately — wishing you’d tried harder to appear enthusiastic for her. you’re worried it could be the seed of a wedge being driven.

it’s not like she’s completely neglected your friendship. you live together. you see her every day. she still gently knocks at your ajar door, poking her head around and asking if you want to watch a movie with her. you make dinner together on friday nights, something you’d done since you moved out of the dorms and got a semi-decent place.

you’re just so used to it being the two of you. sure, you both have other friends, but you’re best friends. you can’t help but feel a little uneasy all of a sudden someone new is making their way up the ladder, ellie not having quite as much time for you anymore.

at least, that’s what you tell yourself the reason is. you know the real one.

you eventually meet the esteemed haley when she comes over to hang out, and to your petty dismay she well and truly lives up to the boasting. you’ve seen pictures of her (as in, you found her on instagram and stalked her at two in the morning), but she’s even prettier in person. she’s sweet, too, giving you a hug and saying how great it is to finally meet you. ellie talks about you all the time, apparently.

the evening’s spent with the tv on, a few drinks sipped. you’re on one side of the couch, ellie on the other, new friend in the middle. you hate how genuinely likeable she is; she goes out of her way to speak to you, asking you questions about yourself and chatting jovially when you find common ground. she’s cool, smart, witty — it’s impossible not to compare yourself, and feel subpar. like old news.

and you wish you weren’t, but you’re reading into every little thing. the way the two of them easily bounce off of each other’s jokes, the way you can see even where you’re from how ellie’s eyes light up when she looks at her. deciding three’s a crowd and you’re just hurting your own feelings, you call it pretty early.

when you stand after finishing your drink and announce that you’re going to bed, you note the way that ellie’s face drops. “oh… really?”

you scrunch your nose, trying to sound untroubled. “yeah, i’m kinda tired, so…”

“m’kay,” she replies, chewing slightly at the inside of her cheek. she knows you better than that. since you first met, you’ve never been ‘kinda tired’ by nine.

after a pause and a quick look back and forth between the two of you, haley gives you a smile, reiterating her earlier statement. “well, it was so nice to meet you, anyway.”

you return it, nodding. your eyes flit to ellie for a split-second. “yeah, you too. see you both later.”

with that, you place your glass in the sink across the room and head off down the hall.

you change and get ready for bed, although the plan was never to sleep. you’re nestled under a blanket, lights dim and a candle burning as you keep your eyes trained on the bullshit stream of youtube videos you’d put on. you’re not really paying attention, mind well and truly elsewhere; simultaneously feeling sorry for yourself, and like the most petty, mean person in the world.

you feel pathetic for wishing ellie’s new friend wasn’t so easy to get along with. she came off as a nice person, and not in a sickly, fabricated way. you could understand how she’d easily tugged ellie out of her shell. a part of yourself had been secretly hoping she was irritating, or bitchy, or weird towards you — you just wanted something to latch onto, something to validate all the uncomfortable emotions that had been swirling ever since she became prominent.

but there was nothing. now all you’re left with is a weird bitterness towards a perfectly normal, sweet girl, her only crime being fetching up a childish possessiveness within you.

you don’t even understand why you’re like this over her in particular; ellie was always an introvert, but it wasn’t like she was a complete recluse. she’d had a serious girlfriend in high school, seen a couple of girls your first year of college, and you don’t remember feeling anywhere near how you are right now. you just guessed you didn’t have as much understanding of how you looked at her back then, combined with the domesticity of now having your own real place luring you into a warped way of thinking.

you hear haley leave around an hour and a half after you’d taken yourself to bed, followed by ellie shuffling around the kitchen space. the tap runs and there are a few clinks as she washes then places the three glasses to dry, hitting the lights off. her room’s further down the hall from yours, and she hesitates as she’s making her way there.

a few light taps sound from the other side of the door. “you asleep?”

“… no,” you call out softly, watching as it cracks open and ellie picks her way in. wordlessly, she plops herself onto the bed next to you, arm behind her head. you shift away a little, offering her more room.

“what’re you watching?”

“uh…” grabbing the remote, you pause the video for a beat so the title shows. you’re not even sure; you’d just selected the first you saw, then let the rest autoplay. “… ‘six most disturbing forest encounters caught on camera’.”

she chuckles. “spooky.”

“eh… they’re all fake.” you look up at her, smiling a little.

“could’ve fooled me.”

“i’m sure,” you laugh lightly, feeling the need to turn away when she goes to meet your eyes.

it’s quiet for a while, but you can sense she wants to say something. it’s not like one of the times she waltzes into your room simply to hang out, sit at the side of one another peacefully.

“you okay?” she eventually asks gently, turning her head to regard you. you don’t meet it.

“yeah, i’m fine.”

“you sure? ‘cause… i don’t know. you seem a little…”

“i’m all good.” glancing up, you offer an unconvincing, flickery smile. “don’t worry.”

“… okay.”

you can tell it offers no comfort, but she doesn’t push it. just settles further into the bed, scratching at her chin.

her eyes dart from the tv screen to the wall, then back to you. “haley’s cool, right? guessed you guys would get along.”

“yeah, she seems nice.”

she’s really not being subtle; but then again, neither are you. you’d been perfectly friendly while you were all together, but the way you’d disappeared coupled with your increasingly half-hearted responses whenever she was brought up pointed elsewhere.

“seriously, what’s up?” she turns onto her side to face you, resting her head on her arm. “i don’t like this.”

you roll your eyes, sighing as you turn, mirroring her. “it’s stupid.”

“what’s stupid?”

your mind flashes with a million ways you can get an overview of your feelings out, without having to tell her the root cause. “i don’t know, i’m just… like, used to it being… y’know, me and you.”

she pulls a face, letting out a fond scoff and furrowing her brow. “what do you mean?”

a tiny groan sounds from your throat, fingertips rubbing at your eye. “i’m just being stupid. fuckin’ embarrassing.”

laughing quietly again, she narrows her eyes a little. “what, are you, like… jealous?”

“no, i just… i don’t know. ignore me.” you’re trying to ignore the way you can feel your cheeks heat up when she says that word. you’d known all along that’s what you were, but being confronted with it is a whole other sensation entirely.

she doesn’t say anything for a moment, just keeps a small smirk on her face and looks down. “that is stupid.”

“right. thanks.”

“no, like…” subconsciously shuffling closer, her leg brushes yours. she quickly moves it. “dude, i can have other friends, but no-one’s gonna be you.”

you blink, thrown by her sincerity. you’d half-expected her to poke a little fun, call you a dumbass. she continues, your eyes meeting hers as she settles her head into the palm of her hand. “you’re always gonna be my best friend.”

yeah, i know, you think. that’s the problem.

[sandyca5tle]

Was having a semi-serious conversation with some friends, and accidentally found myself quoting RWBY in a way that actually helped the discussion at hand, which got me thinking, there's a good few lines in RWBY that are just generally good things for life, so i decided to write a post about it 'cause fuck it. Some'll have commentary some are self explanitary enough. "I'm not any one thing, I'm somewhat of a lot of things" - this was the one that actually sparked this, was talking about identity with a friend, and found this quote very applicable - you don't always have to neatly fit in a box, you can be somewhat several things at once, if that's what fits for you. "Well that embaressment, that desire to go back and tell yourself not to be so stupid, that just proves you're not the same person you used to be. And you're not done growing yet" "You don't have to look cool all the time"

"Of course you are [a real girl]. You think just because you've got nuts and bots instead of squishy guts makes you any less real than me?" - This is less a general life lesson, but more of a 'just because someone is different to you, doesn't make them/their experiences any less real'. And obviously there's the trans angle on this, not being a 'real girl' is an anxiety many trans girls have struggled with, or is something people throw at us to put us down. But just 'cause we're built a little different than cis girls, doesn't make us any less girls "Pyrrha thought that, if there was even the smallest chance of helping someone, that it was a chance worth taking" "I'd be lying if I said that it didn't hurt, that I didn't think about them everyday since I lost them. That I didn't wish I had spent more time with them. If it had been me instead, I know they would have kept fighting too, no matter how dangerous it was, so that's what I choose to do. To keep moving forwards." - Mostly putting this here 'cause it's always nice to have a talk like this regarding grief/loss, and yeah, i just think this is nice and fairly honestly reflection of how a lotta people feel when they lose someone, coupled with the adivce to keep moving forwards. "I'm not asking you to stop. Just please, get some rest, not just for you, but for the people you care about," - I like this one 'cause a) self care is important bitches! Burning yourself out isn't gonna help whatever you're trying to do and b) hurting yourself like that is also gonna hurt those who care for you, 'cause no one wants to see those they care for suffer. So remember to take a break from time to time. "You think you're being selfless, but you're not. Yeah that chameleon friend of yours got me pretty good, but I'd do it all again if it meant protecting you... and I promise Yang would say the same. You can make your own choices sure, but you don't get to make ours. When your friends fight for you, it's because we want to, so stop pushing us out. That hurts more than anything the bad guys could ever do to us," - Obviously the parts about fighting can be taken a little more metaphorically for everyday life, but I like this quote 'cause yeah, the people who are there for you *want* to be there for you, so deciding that you're a burden on them and hiding away/pushing them away is gonna hurt them because they *want to be there for you* - don't decide something for other people. "My losses, my failures, those, more than anything, are what have shaped me into who I am; showed me how I need to grow. If there's something I'm missing it's not because I've lost it, it's 'cause I haven't found it yet" - I just think this is a beautiful line. We've all wished at moments to undo the mistakes we've made, however those mistakes made us the people we are now. And yeah, I love the idea that something you're missing is not because you lost it, it's because you haven't found it yet. "One small kindness, in one small moment, lead to such a marvelous transformation, just like one act of dishonesty caused an unfortunate change" - Reminder that even small actions can mean a lot to others "What happens if I chose me?" "Then maybe, that girl is enough,"

But yeah, all of this to say I love RWBY, it has so many amazing and emotional moments and yeah, if you haven't given it a watch I would highly reccommend (and if you've heard bad things, i'd maybe give it a watch yourself first, a lotta people like to hate on the show in bad faith). But yeah, love RWBY and love all the wonderful moments and messages within it

[lustnhim]

‘birthday boy’ — elvis x reader fluff

note: fluff  / warnings: none really, could come across as a little sad though. / summary: taking care of elvis the way he deserves on his birthday. 

January 8th 1977. 

Forty-two. 42. Fordy too. Over and over in his head like a broken record. Elvis knew it was creeping up on him, age usually did creep up on people- but it was never a surprise to him. Each passing year, each candle added on to the cake, the loneliness was inevitable.  Elvis sat morose in an armchair, his eyes heavy with the weight of the years and the burdens they carried. As his friends and confidants milled about, their laughter and chatter filling the rooms of Graceland, Elvis felt alone. It was as if he was observing his own life through a frosted pane of glass, the world on the other side vibrant and alive, while he remained suspended in a grey haze of melancholy. The Memphis Mafia had planned a huge surprise party, decorating the house and baking the biggest cake he’d ever seen in his life– but that’s not what Elvis wanted. Elvis wanted someone to be there. To really be there.

Sitting in a haze of his own thoughts, cigar smoke pooling out of his mouth as people walked in and out of the room all coming up to him, wishing him a happy birthday, hanging around for a bit then heading back to the party that was supposed to be for him. Taking a deep inhale of his cigar Elvis let his head fall back, pushing the smoke up into the air before soft footsteps in front of him caused him to jerk forward. In front of him stood a girl, maybe in her twenties, he couldn’t quite tell, in a blue dress with a small wrapped gift in her hands. He hadn’t seen her around before, probably one of the boys' daughters or somethin. “Well hello there honey…You alright?” Elvis asked, and the girl stood there for a minute, as if awe-struck. Elvis watched as she stared at him for a minute before clearing her throat nervously. “I-I have something for you.” She said, her arms extending to present the box to him, wrapped in silver paper with a pink bow. Elvis looked at the box then back at her, uncrossing his legs and dishing the ashes of his cigar into the ashtray, letting it rest there. “Did ya now..? Well thank you very much, darlin.” Elvis said, taking the box from the girl's hands, noting how they were shaking. The girl stood there for a minute, and Elvis smiled at her, there was something about her…she felt…new. Elvis looked at the tag on the box, written in pen was, ‘Happy Birthday, Elvis. Love, me.’ Elvis couldn’t help but laugh a bit. “Love, me? I know that ain’t your name.” He said and the girl smiled, “I-It’s not…” She replied, taking her hands and holding them behind her back. “Well what is it?” Elvis asked and the girl shook her head, like her name was the biggest secret in this world. “Just open your present.” She said and Elvis cleared his throat, pulling the bow off gently and sitting it down on his knee. As Elvis tore away the shimmering silver paper, he revealed a small, carved wooden box. The craftsmanship was exquisite, the grain of the wood gleaming beneath his fingertips as he ran them over the smooth surface. Inside the box, nestled on a bed of  pink velvet, was a delicate gold locket. It was a simple piece, but there was something about it that caught Elvis' eye - maybe it was the way it seemed to catch the light or perhaps the initials engraved upon its surface. The initials 'E' and 'P', intertwined in an elegant script. Elvis had just about everything embroidered– but this…it was different. “Let’s go downstairs. To the Jungle Room. Just me an’ you.” Elvis says he feels like he’s being too bold, but his intentions are nothing more than wholesome. He just wants to be with her alone. 

Elvis picked up the locket, feeling the cool metal against his skin as he held it in his palm. He looked up at the girl, his eyes meeting hers, and in that moment, he saw a reflection of his younger self staring back at him. The same heart, the same unbridled passion and love for life that had once consumed him. "I have a note," the girl said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She handed him a small piece of folded paper, the edges wear and tear from what he could only assume was it being held close to her heart. Opening the note Elvis smiled at her handwriting, it was very loopy, very girly. The note was short and sweet, three simple words. 

‘I love you.’

Elvis read the words, his heart skipping a beat. He had heard those words, read them, said them a million times, but this. This felt different. In that moment, the grey haze of melancholy that had been weighing on him lifted slightly, replaced by a faint warmth that blossomed in his chest. He looked up at the girl, really looked at her, taking in the way her blue dress looked on her, the way her eyes shined with sincerity, the way her hair fell, how she stood, her presence. Almost angelic. He sits the locket back down into the box and sits it beside the pink bow on the table, the note still in his hand. “Here, come sit on my knee.” Elvis says, and the girl hesitates, looking around the room, not like she’s looking for someone, but like she’s pressed for time. “Okay…” She says simply, moving over and sitting on his knee, her body is tense and Elvis' body is too. Her legs are between his, she looks down at the ground, still shaking. “Why are ya so nervous, honey? It’s just me.” Elvis says gently, his hand reaching to touch hers and when it does she lets out a soft gasp. “That’s just it. It’s you…it’s really you.” She says with a soft smile on her face. Elvis is confused but he doesn’t press further. She’s obviously a fan, maybe that’s it. “I ain’t nothin’ special darlin’ not anymore.” Elvis says, his fingers intertwining with hers. Her hand feels so small, so delicate in his. “You’re so special. Even now.” She says and clicks her tongue, like she slipped up. “I wish you could see what's gonna happen..” She continues and Elvis clears his throat. “What do you mean, honey?” He asks, “I can’t say.” And that was it. Elvis wasn’t going to press any further, just like he didn’t before. 

“Where did you get that locket?” Elvis asks, and the girl blushes deeply at Elvis's question, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress. She looks up at him from beneath long, dark lashes, her eyes wide and uncertain. "I... I had it made," she confesses softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "For you. For your birthday." Elvis raises an eyebrow, flattered. "All fa’ me?" He picks up the locket, turning it over in his large hands, examining the intricate engraving. "It’s beautiful honey. The best thing I've been given in a long time." The girl smiles shyly at his compliment, a pretty blush coloring her cheeks. "Thank you. I wanted to give you something... special. Before I have to go." She says quietly. "Well I hope you ain’t leavin’ anytime soon." Elvis says warmly, his thumb brushing over the initials etched into the gold. He looks at the girl, really looks at her, trying to discern the enigma wrapped in blue. "I’m enjoyin’ your company an awful lot.” The girl's breath catches, a soft gasp escaping her lips. She looks away, suddenly self-conscious. "I just wanted to show you... that you're still special to people. No matter what they say about you." Elvis feels a strange tightening in his chest, an unfamiliar but welcome warmth spreading through him. He squeezes the girl's hand gently, "You shouldn't be spendin’ your time with an old man.” he murmurs, clearing his throat, sitting the locket back. “You’re a pretty girl. I’m sure you could be pourin’ your love into someone better.” The girl's eyes widen at Elvis's words, a flash of something intense and almost painful crossing her face before she lowers her gaze. "No," she whispers fiercely, her small hand tightening around his, "No one could ever be better than you, Elvis. No one."

She takes a shuddering breath before continuing, her voice low and intense. "You don't understand. I've... I've waited so long for this moment. Dreamed about it. And now..." She shakes her head, curls tumbling around her face. "I can't let it go. I won't let it go.” The girl leans in closer, her face mere inches from Elvis's. He can feel her warm breath feathering against his skin, smell the sweet scent of her perfume. "I love you," she breathes, her eyes blazing into his with an almost desperate intensity. "I love you in a way you can't possibly imagine. And I'm not leaving until... until I've shown you how much." Elvis feels a shiver run down his spine at the raw, unbridled emotion in her voice. It's been so long since someone has looked at him like this, with such naked, all-consuming devotion. He's used to the girls, to the fans who love the idea of him, the legend. But this girl... she's different. She sees him. He raises a hand to cup her face, his calloused fingers gently stroking her soft cheek. "Now honey," he murmurs, but there's no real conviction in his voice. "You don’t mean that." Despite his words, Elvis finds himself leaning in closer, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. He's tired of the hollow celebrations, the plastic smiles and empty toasts. This girl... she's the first genuine thing that's happened to him in years. He doesn’t want this party, this extravagance, all these people here- he just wants it to be him and this girl. “I absolutely mean it.” She says, her voice not wavering. Elvis smiles, it’s almost bittersweet in a way he can’t quite understand.

“I want everyone else to leave. I just want it to be me an’ you.” Elvis says, beginning to move. The girl gets up and watches as he walks out of the Living Room and into the kitchen. Elvis pushes his way through the crowd of people till he finds Red West. “Listen man, I ain’t feelin’ too good…you mind sendin’ all these folks out?” He asks, eager to get back to that girl. Red looked at Elvis with concern etched on his weathered face. He had known Elvis for years, had seen him through countless ups and downs, and he could tell that something was different this time. "You sure you want to do that, Elvis?" Red asked, his voice low and cautious. "I mean, this is your birthday party. All these folks are here to celebrate with you." Elvis sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I know, I know. But I just... I need some time. Alone. With her." Elvis's gaze drifted back to the girl in the blue dress, who was now standing alone by the fireplace, her eyes still fixed on him. Red followed Elvis's gaze, a hint of understanding dawning on his face. "Ah, I see," he said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Alright then. I'll take care of it." Red clapped Elvis on the shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "But don't be a stranger, ya hear? It ain't every day a guy turns forty-two." Elvis just nodded, already starting to make his way back to the living room. The crowd hurried out within minutes as he approached the girl, the chatter and laughter fading into a distant hum. As he drew near, the girl looked up at him, her eyes shining with a mix of hope and trepidation. Elvis held out his hand to her, his usual bravado replaced with a newfound vulnerability. "Come on," he said softly, "I want to show you somethin'."The girl placed her small hand in his, and Elvis felt a warmth spread  through him at her touch. He led her out of the living room, past the grand staircase, and down the long hallway towards the Jungle Room. As they entered the opulent space, with its lush greenery and decadent decor, Elvis pulled the girl close to him. The doors swung shut behind them with a soft click, and suddenly it was just the two of them, alone amidst the tangle of tropical plants and plush furnishings. Elvis turned to face the girl, his hands resting gently on her waist. "I ain't never been much for crowds," he confessed, his voice low and intimate in the quiet of the room. "But I gotta say, I'm real happy you came." The girl looked up at him, her eyes wide and wondering. "I've been waiting for this moment for so long," she whispered, her hands coming up to rest on his chest. "I didn't think... I mean, I never imagined..."Imagined what, angel?" Elvis murmured, his head lowering so that his forehead rested against hers. "Tell me." The girl took a shuddering breath, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. "I imagined this. Us. Alone.” Elvis shakes his head, “You act like you weren’t gonna see me in my own home.” He teases, but the girl just nods. 

Elvis gazed down at the girl, his heart swelling with a warmth he hadn't felt in years. Her presence, her words, her touch... it was all so real, so genuine. He could feel the love radiating off her in waves, washing over him like a soothing balm. Elvis knew he should be wary, should guard his heart like the precious treasure it was. But there was something about this girl, something that made him want to let go, to surrender to the feeling blossoming in his chest. As if reading his thoughts, the girl reached up and gently cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing over the weathered skin. "You're thinking too much," she murmured softly, a gentle admonishment. "Just for once, Elvis... don't think. Feel." Slowly, giving her every opportunity to pull away or object, Elvis leaned in closer. He could feel her warm breath mingling with his own, could see the way her pulse fluttered wildly at the base of her throat. He paused for a moment, letting anticipation build, before closing the remaining distance and pressing his lips to hers. The girl made a soft noise deep in her throat, her hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer. Elvis let himself get lost in the sensation, in the warmth and softness of her mouth under his. He kissed her slowly, tenderly, trying to pour every ounce of emotion and longing into the single embrace. When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing harder, their eyes glazed with a newfound hunger. The girl leaned her forehead against his, a soft smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "I love you," she whispered, the words tickling his skin. "All of you. The man you are now." Elvis felt tears prick his eyes. What was going on? He felt so…loved. So safe. So adored. He didn’t need the fans, the money, the fame…this was all he wanted. “I love you too, Angel. An’ I want you ta’ stay.” He says, and the girl takes a finger and wipes the tears from under his eyes.

“I’ll stay.” 

She says, placing a soft kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Happy Birthday Elvis.”

first off, happy heavenly birthday elvis presley. words cannot even begin to express how much better my life has been since i have begun listening to and loving elvis. i wanted to post this at exactly midnight but i also posted on my other platforms 😓 i also want to thank you all for 500+ followers, i cannot believe i have been blessed with this community- i love you all so very much.

taglist: @hooked-on-elvis @atleastpleasetelephone @lola-1013 @indiatuck @eptodaytommorowforever @suspiciousmindsxo @tupelomiss @myradiaz @i-r-i-n-a-a @elvispresley1956 @sisssygirl @your-nanas-house @callieselvisobsessed @eapep @auntbee22 @elvisiana @ladelinee @jhoneybees @elviswhore69 @sissylittlefeather @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @louisejoy86 @cherrycolaride @sloppyzengarden @daughterdelrey @iloveelvisss @theelvisprincess @fairybloodsucker

[syverse]

i depend on you // ft. katsuki bakugou

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

bakugou can't bring himself to hate you, even after you left

warnings&a/n: if this is bad LEAVE ME ALONE PLEASE!!! got suddenly verrrry inspired by that one drawing on tiktok and maybe i misinterpreted it in the writing but shoot me who cares. this is like my first time writing something and actually finishing it i get so discouraged and give up. if you hate this i will never do this again.

In his life, there's a lot of things that Bakugou hates. He hates simple and unavoidable things like the rain, and he hates specific things like people who rely on everybody around them. He hates weak people, hates getting up too early in the morning, hates being too involved in other people's lives if he doesn’t necessarily have to be. But, as he sits alone at his desk, forced to listen to the obnoxious and overbearing sounds of society in Tokyo despite how late it is, Bakugo can’t think of anything he hates more than you. 

He spent a lot of his life loving you. He loved things like your unwavering conviction to do the right thing, he loved the look in your eyes when you stole glances from each other during class dinner back when you were both in highschool, and loved the way you whispered his name like a prayer when it was just the two of you under the covers of your shared bed. It was hard at first, but as the two of you grew together, so did his love. He learned to love through the sound of your laughter and the feeling of your gentle hands intertwining with his. Nimble fingers pressing into the palms of his hands before flipping them over and placing feather-like kisses on his fingerprints, he tries to swallow the bile that claws its path up his throat.  

Along with the symphony of nightlife outside of his agency, he can also pick out the faint sound of a news reporter being broadcasted on a billboard next to his building. Pictures of your face are shown on the large screen, along with the headline “PRO HERO TURNED VILLAIN” and Bakugou holds his breath for as long as he can. His phone lay flat on his desk in front of him, buzzing every few seconds from concerned friends and family members, but the blonde doesn’t dare to touch it. It had been at least a week since your departure from his agency, and the news had spread to all of Japan at this point, but the news and media were still eating it alive as if they were starving. 

Bakugou’s eyes glue shut as he wishes for memories of you to disappear, and for the heavy dread in his gut to fizz up and die out. He curses himself for not picking up on it sooner, the fact that you would leave. Looking back on it, he’s pretty sure he could put his finger on the exact moment when you started to fade away. When the universe in your eyes started to blur each time you looked at him, when the sense behind your touch became hesitant instead of gentle, and when your cheeks no longer touched your eyes when you smiled. He should’ve said something. Should’ve done a lot of things to at least delay your disappearance, but Bakugo was familiar with the fact that he was never good with words, and the fact that his heart was bottomless with fear of him making it worse. 

Bakugou absolutely hates you for leaving him here. He hates that he can’t throw every single I love you that came out of his mouth into a little box and set it to ashes, hates that he has to go back to home and still smell you on his bedsheets, hates that even though you’ve made it clear that you’re never coming back, he still patiently waits with bated breath to hear you whisper his name again.  So, as Katsuki picks himself off of his desk and drags himself to the elevator to return back his house, his house where you don't live anymore, he tries to convince himself to forget you, and ignores the way his tongue instinctively traces the letters of your name on the roof of his mouth.

[notaplaceofhonour]

I get significantly less hate online than I did in the year after October 7th and I wish I could attribute it to the hate just fizzling out, but I know that’s not the case.

here’s the things that have made tumblr more livable for me to deal with antisemitism:

anon is off. if you want to say something to me you say it to my face. plenty of antisemites are more than happy to be terrible with their full chest, but a lot of them are chickenshit. this filters out a lot of hate.

the block button is my friend. if I see something hateful, I block. if it’s overt enough (saying “I hate the Jews” or “the Jews are like XYZ”) I report it. I also sometimes go into the notes to see who’s sharing these hateful posts and block a bunch of them preemptively.

don’t reward them for being hateful. they want the engagement, they want the reblogs & likes, they want the persecution complex of “(((the zionists))) are after me”, they want a lolcow to milk; don’t give it to them. if you get in a back-and-forth with them, their followers will jump on you too. if you give the post any notes, tumblr will recommend more like it. don’t reblog unrepentant bigots just to dunk on them or convince them they’re wrong.

don’t be quiet about it either. it does help to still push back, if you do so strategically, in ways that make it unrewarding to get into a back-and-forth with. screenshot it, dunk tank it on your own post rather than giving their post engagement. I do this in one of two ways:

if there’s anything productive to say about it, use it as a learning opportunity. don’t try to convince op they’re wrong. provide a better argument for other people that will inoculate them against op’s bad arguments; save the vitriol & justified anger, just show them how op is wrong & give a more grounded answer so people can avoid falling for it. don’t assume motive. stick to the facts. provide receipts. (if op is too all over the place to make screenshots readable & you paraphrase their argument, only do so for brevity; don’t rephrase “what they really meant”; try to keep their phrasing & work from there to unpack it) (sometimes it works to reblog a bad response to your own post, if you can respond to it in a way that reinforces the point of your original post)

if there is nothing productive to be gained from arguing and it’s just a stupid, truly rancid take, mock the shit out of it on your own post. don’t reach, don’t put words in their mouth, don’t make it about who they are. just show what they said and make fun of it. if it’s stupid enough it’ll stand on its own. don’t do this with takes that are complicated to unravel; that’s what the previous bulletpoint is for.

don’t take this as prescriptive; i’m not saying “this is The Right Way™️ to do it”. but it’s my own internal guidelines for a strategy that’s working for me. feel free to use it if it will help.

[wannabepoeticischiya]

all the colors of the sun

pairing: karasu tabito x f! reader genre: romance wc: 17.6k status: one shot

You don't need to wish for love or for someone to love you. Because… sometimes, you just never realize that you've had them all along.

And if he were to put it into words, he'd tell her: “And ya don’t need to wish for him to love you…”

Because he already does.

“No way in hell did Karasu get a girlfriend before me!” Otoya protests, voice laced with all the stinging sensations of envy as he, Isagi, and Yukimiya huddled together like the Avengers if the superhero group was the type to peek at people from around a corner.

The object of their interest? None other than the assassin, Karasu Tabito—talking animatedly to a girl all the while looking like he just won the World Cup, saved the universe, and had gotten married all in the same day. His smile was very annoyingly wide, and his laughter sounded so happy that it scratched the ears of his very envious teammates.

"Maybe he’s just being nice to a fan," Yukimiya offered, though the model himself couldn’t stop the bitterness from tagging along with his words. He swears he could almost taste it.

“Karasu?” Otoya questions incredulously.

“Nice?” Isagi follows.

“Ha! The only way Karasu and nice belong in the same sentence is if the word isn’t is in between,” Chigiri remarks, arms crossed as he leaned against the opposite wall, silently judging his teammates—who were very keenly drawing nearer and nearer to the borders of looking like electric posts if they could pull the We Bare bears pose—from their spot in the corner.

“Why’re you guys talking about him anyway?” Chigiri asks, sipping casually on his energy drink.

“Look at him, Chigirin!” Bachira’s head popped up from behind the trio like a Whac-A-Mole, pointing dramatically at the crow in the crowd. “Karasu’s talking to a girl!”

Chigiri chokes mid-sip, spilling his drink all over his hands and on the floor from absolute mortification. “He’s what?!”

"Whatcha guys yellin' for? Yer gonna get us in trouble if ya don't keep it down—"

“Hiori! Look at your childhood friend!” Isagi whispers in alarm, as if the scene he’s been watching unfold before his eyes for the last five minutes is nothing but fever-induced hallucinations.

"He ain't my childhood friend,” Hiori mutters, rubbing the back of his neck in annoyance that he had to clear this up, again. “If anythin’ he’s—”

Tired of Hiori’s stalling, Isagi shoved the Ice Man’s face in the direction of their crime-committing teammate.

“[Name]-san?” Hiori mumbles in surprise, blinking repeatedly as if the scene before him was something out of this world. Well, he should’ve expected this considering… well, considering them.

“You know her, Hiorin?” Bachira pokes his head from Yukimiya's side, curiosity all over his honey-colored eyes.

“Yeah,” he breathes, still struggling to process the image, “She’s…” his words faded to a dull echo. It’s only been a few months since he last saw them together. There wasn’t anything unusual, same old Karasu, same old [Name], still laughing and talking like they were the only two people in the world. They’ve always looked like that. Always looked at each other like that. So how come seeing them now… how did they look so different? Almost as if they were…

“In love.” He whispers.

“What?!” The peepers—minus Yukimiya—screamed in unison, garnering a few odd stares from the people walking by.

“What I meant,” Hiori clears his throat, “is that she’s Karasu-kun’s childhood friend.” Hiori smiles, “She’s also ridiculously strong.”

“Can’t be stronger than Karasu, right?” Otoya asks, his eyes giving way to the bubbles of whatever evil plan it was that he was concocting in his head.

“Oh, I ain’t sure.” Hiori shrugs, “But from all the fights they had that I can remember, she never lost a single one."

Hiori caught sight of the smirk on Otoya’s face growing wider, and if he were to push it, Hiori was certain that Otoya would was going to tear his jaw open from it.

Amused by the ninja’s shamelessness, Hiori imparts a very much needed word of wisdom.

"If she and Karasu-kun were to fight for real right now, she would still win.” He laughs, not quite liking the sudden image of Karasu’s bruised face from long ago showing up in his head, “and that's with Karasu-kun burnin' all the candles at every end."

Otoya’s suggestive expression wilted like a rose at the new information, stepping behind Yukimiya all of a sudden.

Wanting to see how far he could go, Hiori hummed and pretended to think deeper, “I think she does kickboxing—or was it karate? Well, doesn’t matter. Yer screwed either way, Otoya-kun.” Hiori pats Otoya’s shoulder as he walks past the group of terrified teenagers, “Best not to try!” He calls, waving his hand in farewell.

As he walks away, snickering softly to himself as he noted the look from his teammate’s faces. He remembers the day those two met, a moment in time so engraved in his head it felt kind of strange to see how much had changed.

Or maybe… just maybe, nothing’s changed at all.

---

"Didja lose your partner?"

A younger [Name] stood in front of a boy crouched by the bike rack near the curve, popsicle in hand as the other scratched the back of her neck—craning her head to see if anyone was around the corner.

[Name] tried to catch his eye, shamelessly offering the half-eaten treat to him when he ignored her question.

Met by his silence, she steps closer to him, setting her bag next to his yellow hat as she crouches down to try and get a glimpse of his face.

"Oi," she calls again, waving a sticky hand in front of his face. "Can ya hear me?"

The boy hides his face further in the comforts of his arms, swatting away her hand without a word.

[Name] furrowed her brows at his dismissal, pouting at him even if he couldn’t see.

What’s this kid’s deal? She thought.

Just as she was about to get back up and walk away, she heard him—albeit very soft that could be mistaken for the wind—whimper.

He wasn’t upset at her or anything, but he just didn’t know what else to do at the moment, so he couldn’t help but try to push her away. This was the last thing he wanted… for someone to see just how weak he was. He didn’t get partnered up with the girl he wanted, so what? It wasn’t like it was the end of the world. He thought it was the stupidest reason in the world. It shouldn’t be something to be so upset over.

But he was.

To him… getting partnered up with Marisa really, really mattered.

Pained by the sudden reminder, he felt the back of his eyes tingle, silver brimming his downcast gaze.

"H-Hey, c'mon now, don't cry..." [Name] panics, dropping down to eye level with him once more at sight of the tears streaming down his very sad face. Mindlessly, she thrusts the melting, half-eaten popsicle to him like an offering, like the spirit of summer could magically solve all his problems.   

She pats his back awkwardly, "I lost my partner, too." She blurted, her voice colored in cheer and laughter, as though the matter of losing a buddy on a school field trip was a funny story they can share for life.   

The reason for Karasu's sadness was a very different matter altogether, still, he appreciated his classmate's efforts. Her kind, and frantic energy pulling at the corners of his lips even by the smallest centimeter.   

"Hio-kun prolly made it back to the teacher, maybe your partner is there!" She smiles at him, like there was no surer thing in the whole wide world aside from her optimism. She extended a hand for him to take. "Let's go back, Nakimushi-san!"

"I'm not a crybaby!" He snaps, finally looking—more like glaring—at her through watery eyes, "And the name's Karasu. Karasu Tabito!" (believe it!)

"Okay, Tabito-chan!" She beams, one so bright it made him squint.

Before he could reprimand her for her actions, she plopped the matching yellow hat back onto his head, the brim settling crookedly as her sticky fingers lingered for a second too long. She adjusted the straps of her red backpack and looked to him in anticipation.

"Don't go calling me by my first name like we're close or somethin’!" He yells, flustered at the thought of a girl being all chummy with him.

"Sure thing, Tabito-chan!" She replies, completely ignoring his protests as she drags him by his hand and led him back to rest of the group.

---

That was how they became friends.

According to the testimony of Hiori Yo—who was originally [Name]’s assigned partner—she was seen ditching him half-way when caught sight of an ice cream store, and somewhere along the way got wired with a crying kid on the sidewalk.

From that day onward, they just sort of… stuck together

---

At eight years old, [Name] discovered Karasu’s secret, as much as a secret it could be but… what she unveiled was his crush on Marisa—the resident cutest kid in class, according to him.

It wasn’t intentional. [Name] blamed it on Karasu. It was completely by accident.

She went to his house one Saturday morning to return the ball he had left by mistake last night when he came over her house to play.

His older sister, Tsubame-nee-chan, who looked just like Tabito but with longer hair and a kinder attitude, had told [Name] that her best friend was upstairs. She was so used to having the girl come over that it started to become weird when there wasn’t any laughter and banter in the house.

“Tabito’s upstairs,” Tsubame waves from the living room, laughing at something her friends said. “Ya can just grab him yerself!”

Muttering a faint, ‘Pardon the intrusion’, taking off her slippers, and a ‘Thanks, Tsubame-nee-chan!’, [Name] climbed the steps, no limit to her usual buzzing energy.

But the second her foot closed the last step of the stairs, she halted.

[Name] caught sight of Karasu at the far end of the corridor, standing in front of the full-length mirror he probably used more than his sister—or anyone in his house for that matter. The boy hadn’t taken note of her presence just yet, seemingly immersed at whatever it was that he was doing that merited his undivided attention and spatial awareness.

She tilted her head in curiosity and breathed to call out to him.

And with little to no warning at all, his voice broke through like thunderstorms.

"Marisa, I like you," he tells his reflection, flushing red from the weight of his own words.

[Name] gasped, her jaw dropping to the center of the earth—the surprise simmering in her soul that it had frozen her over where she stood, causing her grip on the soccer ball to loosen. The ball slipped from her hands, descending step by step down the stairs, sounding like a drumroll for impending doom.

The sound had Karasu whipping his head in her direction looking like roadkill. Blushing, in the nicest word; lovesick in the worst.

"YOU LIKE MARI—!"

Karasu, in sheer mortification, bolted toward her, yanking her away from the stairs and slapped a sweaty palm over her mouth before she could blacken his name in his own household. His heart racing faster than when he stayed past curfew and had to go home knowing his mom was waiting for him by the door with a slipper.

“Shaddap!” He hisses, voice barely above a whisper as he glances around like a criminal.

Meanwhile, downstairs, in the living room, Tsubame glanced at the direction of the stairs—noting the series of thuds and muffled and restrained yelling—raising a questioning brow as it had her pausing mid-laugh. A minute of silence ensued after that, so she immediately concludes that it was probably nothing… hopefully.

Those two were always loud and rough and chaotic, there existed no day where she could describe them with just two of those adjectives, and frankly, it would never work anyway. Where there was loudness there was chaos, and all the other matches.

Besides, her brother was a soccer player, and [Name] was a karate practitioner.

Totally normal.

Back upstairs, Karasu dragged [Name] into his room like she was a dead body he was desperately trying to hide.

When he was sure that the door was slammed shut and that no other human on earth could possibly lo and behold his newly discovered secret, only then did he let her go. He knew full well that as he stands there all red-faced, heart pumping, colored in all the shades of horror for his impending fate, shoulders heaving as he struggles to regain his composure… Karasu Tabito was never gonna hear the end of her teasing.

And it began the moment [Name] stood up, dusted the dust from her clothes, and looked at him with the most skin-crawling smile to ever graze humanity. “Sooo… Marisa, ey?” She jabs his side with her elbow, her smile growing impossibly wider.

Karasu groans, sliding dramatically against the door like a telenovela star as he hides his face behind his hands. “Yer absolutely not allowed to tell anyone!” he commands, glaring at her from where he was, trying to act all big and scary but failing in [Name]’s eyes since he was far too red-faced like a stoplight to be considered a threat. “’Specially not my sister! She’d tease me and I’d be forced to hit the grave early.”

"Don'tcha worry, Tabito-likes-Marisa, yer secret’s safe with me!" [Name] salutes dramatically, a certain twinkle in her eyes as if his wishes were a heaven-sent mission to their strongest soldier.

Karasu let out an exasperated sigh, ruffling his hair in frustration—already beginning to count the days that remained of his secret.

"So...” She started, leaning closer to him with a mischievous smile, “Whatcha like about her, Tabi-chan?" [Name] teases, wiggling her eyebrows while she was at it, poking his reddening cheeks at the reminder of the pretty girl from class.

His face erupted in all the shades of red—if it was even possible. [Name]’s prodding wasn’t helping his racing heart one bit, in fact, it only made him feel like his own organ was trying to break down his rib cage and run as far away as possible.

He wasn’t getting away from this—not unscathed—so might as well fess up.

"Well, she's really cute." Karasu admits, a tiny, soft smile painting his expression.

[Name] nodded enthusiastically, leaning closer in anticipation. But Karasu remained silent, he was just smiling there like an idiot staring off into yonder.

"What?" he asks as he took note of the unimpressed expression on his friend's face.

"Ya mean that's it?" she deadpans, all the happiness draining from her face at the sight of Karasu's lenient expression speaking volumes far more than when he spoke the words—"Should there be more?"

"Oi! I always thought ya weren't the sharpest tool in the shed, but I didn't know yer stupidity was this high—OW!" [Name] yelps as Karasu karate-chopped the top of her head, effectively drawing the curtains to her insults to a close.

[Name] glared at him, eyes reflecting the thought: you dare use my own spells against me?

"You don't get a say!” He protests, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “Ya never liked anyone but the neighborhood cat!"

Because for the life of him, no matter how many kanji he learned to read or write, he was certain he couldn't convey a hundredth of Marisa's beautiful qualities.

"Liking someone is dumb!" she shot back, wincing as she rubs the top of her head to ease the ache. She was certain she'd develop all the necessary dodging maneuvers from her friend alone.

"Of course, ya'd think that you gorilla." Karasu laughs as he leaned over to pull at [Name]'s cheeks just to annoy her further.

The small conversation was something only the two of them shared. Lost under the stars of all their laughter and the echoes of their smiles… forever just theirs to keep.

Karasu never confessed his feelings for Marisa in the entirety of elementary school, or ever for that matter. And [Name], surprisingly true to her word, kept his secret well, a secret.

That’s why it came as a surprise.

It was the day of their elementary school graduation.

Tabito and [Name] stood next to each other as his sister took their photo, saying that they were one step closer to ‘reaching the age of maturity’ as she had so cryptically put it. Because what on earth could she mean by that? They were plenty mature. It didn’t help that she was smiling weirdly at the two of them while she was at it.

But the biggest shock of the day wasn’t Tsubame-nee-chan’s sudden teasing, no. It was something entirely different.

Marisa called to Tabito just as their class had finished capturing a photo together. [Name] hardly had any time to see everything unravel before she was whisked away by the Karate Club to take a picture of their own.

As she caught the last of their shadows from the corner of her eye—Marisa, all smiles and laughing, Karasu, standing looking like he could snap like a taco shell at any moment but hid his situation very well.

For some reason unknown, the sight of them talking rang an unpleasant melody in the caves of [Name]’s chest, rattling the once peaceful solitude.

She blamed it on the pollen. She blamed it on the heat or the cold, whichever was more prominent. She blamed it on… quite literally everything else. Not willing to admit to anything—not when she didn’t even know what the heck this was.

Later that afternoon, when the two found themselves at the beach loitering on the wave breakers by the roadside to watch the sunset, Karasu told [Name] that Marisa—his life-long crush at the time—had confessed to him.

He told it like it was nothing. As if it was no more than an ordinary occasion, like a weather report!

But [Name]’s reaction was a stark contrast to his nonchalance.

The revelation crashed against her like a tidal wave that nearly had her toppling over the concrete barrier, in danger of falling to the sandy shore—a generous twenty-foot drop at least.

Karasu grabbed her by the scruff of her clothes, heart pounding at the sight of her almost falling— “Idiot, be more careful!” He scolds, carding a hand through his ever-growing violet hair.

“MARISA CONFESSED TO YOU?!” [Name] screams, standing up in absolute shock with zero regards that she almost had a close date with the grim reaper a few minutes ago.

"Hey! I already told ya to watch yerself! You'll fall!" Karasu reminds, reaching out to steady her. His brows remained furrowed as he stayed seated on the concrete barrier, only this time, one hand caged her own as his other found anchor on her ankle.

"Whatcha say? Ya better not have told her somethin' stupid! Gosh this is excitin'—"

“I rejected her.”

The world came to a standstill at the resounding echo of his words. But the tides continued to crash against the shores, drawing away not a moment later. The birds’ orchestra flowed like the spring zephyrs as they flew over the vast finiteness of the horizons. Still… [Name] could not feel herself move from her frozen state.

Wasn’t it too sudden? It felt like only yesterday that she discovered his crush for their classmate. Why… why?

Karasu looks to the ocean with a completely calm face, a stark contrast to the slowly rising tides. The sunset painted him golden, like all the stars melted just to color him in this moment.

When he was colored in that light, saturating him in every shade of soothing silence, softening his features… for the first time in forever, Karasu felt unreachable. Like he belonged to a world she had no right to step into. As though he would continue to travel past the borders of the milky way to some unknown universe far beyond what [Name] could comprehend.

When he was painted in all the colors of the sun, it was hard to deny.

It was difficult to fight the fluttering sensation thrumming in her heart—surging in all the forms of power—of happiness.

[Name] tugged on his arm that held her own, urging him to look at her as she asks, "Why?"

Indeed, why?

For as long as [Name] had known him, Karasu's always liked Marisa. He even went as far as to make her swear not to tell a single soul about his infatuation with the girl, not because he was embarrassed, but because he thought far too lowly of himself—believed that he was too ordinary—for someone like Marisa to ever like him back.

"I... well, we're gonna go to different middle schools,” he shrugs, sweeping it under the carpet like it was no big deal. “It would be a long-distance thing ya get me? So I rejected her." He talks about it so easily, always acting that it isn’t eating him up inside.

He was always like this.

Using the hand that held the hand of the girl standing before him, Karasu pulled himself up from his sitting position. He towered over her easily, already breaking past a hundred and seventy centimeters—a reminder that they were growing up—and he was sure to grow taller in the near future.

"Nothin' weird about it,” he comments apathetically. “Completely normal—ow! Hey! What're ya doin'—[Name]!" He hurriedly shielded his arm from [Name]’s aggravated assault.

“Yer an idiot!” she fires at him, her frustration dropping on him like a bomb.

"Ow! [Name]—stop! You hit like a gorilla—ow!" Karasu finally held her thrashing arms, caging her in his hold so she couldn't hit him anymore.

He wasn't sure why [Name] was acting this way, or why she was so upset over this. What he was certainly most certain of is that her punches hurt. They hurt a whole lot.

"You're an idiot..." she echoes.

Karasu tried to look her way, but it proved to be an arduous task as she kept her head down. A few stands of her hair prevented Karasu from discerning what sort of expression was on her face. He hesitantly let her arms go, watching them fall to her side softly.

Karasu poked [Name]'s forehead, pushing her head slightly to get her to look up.

"Hey..." he calls gently, closing the remaining distance between them with a single stride, "Why're ya cryin'?"

[Name] looks to the ocean, aggressively wiping away the traitorous tears that slipped from the shackles of her eyes. She wasn't gonna cry over this. It was stupid.

"You liked Marisa a lot, Tabito."

It took Karasu by surprise that [Name] called him by his first name, free from her usual teasing jeers and awful nicknames—still, he didn't understand why is it that she was so upset by his situation.

"I just..." she begins, glancing at him from the corners of her eyes before sighing and turning to face him, "It was yer chance to be with the one you loved—"

"Oi, oi... love is a strong word for that—" Karasu wanted to complain, to say that it really wasn’t like that, but looking at the saddened expression of his friend, he thought otherwise.

"—and you let the chance go just like that." She admits, her voice threatening to crumble from the heaviness that she felt—and before long, her tears had broken free from their holding cells.

"I know I can't say anythin' to ya cuz I'm a gorilla and I don't like anyone else but Miiko but don'tcha think it's a waste—" Karasu cut her off by wrapping his arm around her form, tangled her in gentleness that stood in great contrast to his usual rough and jagged demeanor.

Because he didn’t like seeing her cry.

He doesn’t like it when other kids make fun of her, even if he knew that she was better equipped to handle them far more than him. He doesn’t like it when she’s sad. And he doesn't like it when she wasn’t around.

[Name] was an irreplaceable figure in his life… and it hurt him just as much that she—that she was sad… and he felt even worse this time because he knew that he was the one who caused it.

"Gettin' a love life ain't everythin' in this world ya know?" he tells her, threading a hand through her hair in a soothing gesture.

[Name] buries her face in his chest, nodding despite knowing that he wouldn't see.

She felt like the world's biggest scumbag. Her best friend in the whole wide world just turned down the girl he liked for so long.  She should've been sad—angry at the world for forcing this fate unto Karasu, to her best friend who was the kindest person on earth. And she was!

Desperately, she tried to convince herself that she was.

But here she was… taking advantage of his kindness. Trying to take more than what she was given.

Because what else could this be? That there was this thrumming sensation in her chest that rejoiced in knowing that Karasu turned Marisa down.

"Hold on, why are you the one cryin'? Shouldn't it be me?" He teased, ruffling the threads of [h/c] that covered her head.

"Idiot!"

---

As the seasons changed and the moon waxed and waned, a good chunk of their time in middle school was spent with Karasu breathing into his soccer career slash club slash obsession, playing alongside Hiori Yo—[Name]’s initial elementary school partner whom she ditched to get ice cream and was later forced to apologize to by her mother—all the while [Name] dedicated hers to Karate.

The two remained as close knit as ever, choosing to wait for whomever had practice the longest so they could walk home together. Spending all breaks and lunches lounging around and glaring at people who looked at them funny. [Name] complaining about chemistry because who the hell would find joy in dragging numbers up and down, sideways and backwards, all over roll over. It was a pain. All she knew was that Protactinium + Nitrogen + Calcium + Potassium + Einsteinium = PaNcaKEs. And that was just about how far her Chemistry braincells could peak.

It didn’t help that Karasu was a wizard when it came to that godawful subject so when it came to helping her with it, tutoring sessions are 5% learning, 3% complaining, with all the rest occupied by his relentless teasing.

A horrible experience.

But for them who had known each other since once upon a time, it was nothing unusual.

Everything the same as ever. Same old science woes. Same old swimming classes despair. Same old faces. Same old Karasu. Same old [Name].

for the majority of middle school, karasu dedicated all his time and effort to soccer—playing along side hiori yo, yn's initial elementary school partner whom she ditched to get ice cream and later apologized for leaving him behind—while yn gave hers to karate. the two best friends remained close as ever. choosing to wait for whomever had practice the longest so they could walk home together. Everything was the same as ever. same old clubs. same old faces. same old karasu. same old yn.

That was until one winter night of their second year of middle school...

[Name] was set to compete for the winter Karate tournament and if she did well, it was one step closer to Nationals.

She trained day in, day out near the field where Karasu played soccer when the school field was out for break.

The soccer player was not privy to her unshakable resolve, even going as far as labeling her—and letting her know—that she was “working so hard like a cow” which he received a kick as thanks.

It was fine during spring—her training that is, even more so in summer, and Karasu would even let it slip in autumn but winter? Winter was a different matter altogether.

For the past days (and even last year), he had told her off for it—scolded her far more times that he would like to admit with a tone laced with all the streamers of irritation and illuminated by the lights of his concern. “Ya gotta stop workin’ yerself so hard like a cow, gorilla girl. You’ll get sick!”

As he makes a move to hit her head like he always did, [Name] dodged and repaid his words with a very kind kick to his side, sending him staggering a few steps away.

"Ya don't get ta lecture me on that, stupid crow! Yer here too, equally as guilty! And don't call me a cow! Or a gorilla!" She points a numb finger in his direction, because even with her stubborn and brutish attitude, it sadly didn't make her immune to the cold.

"Yeah, yeah..." He waved her off with one hand as the other rubbed the spot she kicked.

"But I'm runnin' around so I ain't as cold, but you've just been standin' there for the past thirty minutes, aren'tcha cold?" He quirks a brow at her as he approached her slowly, like a wild predator cautious to scare away his prey.

"Oh, I'm freezin’." She agrees nonchalantly, a mist of white clouds leaving the borders of her lips.

"Act more like it then, idiot." he deadpans, scratching his head in frustration.

"Here," Karasu breathes into his hands moving closer so he could cup her face.

"Woah. Ya really weren't jokin' when ya said yer freezin'" he says in surprise, laughing at his own discovery like it was the most amusing thing in the world. "Are yer hands cold, too?"

He retreated his hands and made a motion to take off his soccer gloves not a moment later, looking at them for a few moments—trying to figure out which hand was right and left, even if they wouldn't matter in the end—before sliding them onto her trembling fingers.

They hung loosely on her despite the Velcro straps going as far as they could possibly go.

Since when did he grow so much?

When she looks away from her hands to thank him, [Name] felt the world around her freeze into place, frosting over like the trees that bordered the field. Light snow descended from the heavens, the last sunrays dipping behind the horizons of the sky as the stars flickered to life one by one.

And then there it was again, that same fluttering feeling from so long ago. Only this time, it set everything in her to flames: her blood rushed far too fast for her head to keep up, lighting the meadows of her face to a vibrant shade of red, setting every hollow and edge into a raging inferno. She felt cold and warm everywhere—like her body couldn't decide if it wanted to burn to ash or forever freeze with winter.

The colors of the night shone in a vibrant light, flowering in circles from the sheer intensity—brighter than the summer sky yet dimmed in comparison next to him—to Tabito who looked at her like she was the only thing in the world, rubbing his hand against his arm to spark heat so he could thaw the frozen wasteland ravaging her soul.

Since when did she begin to see him like this? When did he become so saturated in all the colors of everyday life that he blended in so well?

When... did I start feeling like this?

Don't look at me like that, [Name] wanted to tell him. Don't laugh at me. Don't hold me like this... just don't.

Because if he did—when he does all of this—how was she supposed to fight off this greedy, hungry feeling festering inside her? This needless longing to keep him close to her, to never let him go, to show him all the wonders of the universe... all the colors of the sun, everything that he turned his back on because he believed that he wasn't enough to have any of them.

When he looks at her like that, when he laughs... when he holds her like this—how was she supposed to deny it?

That she was in love with him.

[Name] was in love with Karasu Tabito.

---

When the wave of High School crashed against the two best friends, it brought with it the cruellest game fate could play on [Name].

Marisa… had returned.

The same Marisa she had teased and jeered at Karasu about when they were kids. The same Marisa… Karasu had loved—again, such a strong word—for so long. And she guessed—no matter how much she didn't want to entertain the thought that Karasu could still like the same Marisa from elementary school—he loves even now.

And it nearly killed her inside when she found that her suspicions were true.

It was a week after their first year had begun when Karasu came running from the pitch to meet her halfway, cleats thudding against the grass as she made her way to the bleachers.

"[Name]!" He yells as he ran towards her in full speed it nearly had [Name] contemplate if she should move aside so Karasu doesn't accidentally trample her over. But he ran to her with the biggest smile she had ever seen on him—yes, even happier than the time they won the local tournament—it broke her heart to even think of sidestepping him, even if he did pose as a road hazard from his speed.

"Why'dya hafta feel like ya need to win a marathon, Tabi-chan?" She punches his arm playfully once he skidded to a stop near where she stood (after nearly running her over).

She sets her bag down as she laughed at the sight of Karasu buzzing in excitement. Must be something really important to him if he's this happy about it. Before [Name] could fully turn to face him, he had already grabbed her by the shoulders and started shaking her back and forth. "She's here!" He cheers.

"Who's here?"

"Marisa!"

[Name] felt her heart shatter from the happiness decorating every word that left the orbit of his tongue, shining like the stars that could’ve littered her evening. She should have been happy for him. Really, she should have shared even half the joy he felt from his supposed amazing discovery. She should've... she knew full well that she should.

So why does it remind her exactly of elementary graduation?

When he was whisked away from her by the same girl who she cheered Karasu to pursue? Why does it remind her so much that she wasn't a figure like Marisa in his life? She wasn't the object of his desire. Karasu didn't hold an ounce of romantic affection for her like he did for Marisa. She... [Name]... was just his friend. She was his best friend. And god... did that hurt—that she couldn't be more than that—when all she wanted was to be a little greedier, to have a place in his heart like Marisa did. She couldn't quite understand it... even if she knew deep down that Karasu liked Marisa, that he had her image perched atop a pedestal in the center of his heart, [Name] couldn't be contented with just being his friend.

The one friend who loved him so much.

The one friend... that he couldn't love back.

"Ya hafta help me, [Name]!” His voiced anchored her back to reality. “I know I told ya that gettin' a love life ain't everythin' but now that I actually stand a chance... I—I don't wanna lose it agai... [Name]? You still there?"

Karasu waved a hand over her face, taking note of the expression painted on her face, almost as if she just saw a ghost. "Hello? This is ground control to [Name], are ya still in orbit?"

Through the haze, [Name] watches as Karasu walked around her in circles, poking her cheeks to try and get her back to him—huh, what an easily misunderstood thought.

She blinked, taking in the way he eyes her in confusion, his ridiculously gelled hair remaining immovable even as he prods and scratched his scalp like they held all the answers in the world. Really, it wasn't him who was stupid for trying so hard... it was her.

Because as it stands, she was the one foolish enough to fall for him.

"Oho~ so yer finally mannin' up to ask her out, eh?" she smirks, her facade tugging at the seams of her resolve, pulling at the pieces of her shattered heart. In the silence of his unspoken rejection, she found herself gluing them together, even if they threatened to come apart later. Just a little longer, she would coerce. Just a little more... so that he doesn't find out—so he wouldn't find out—that his feelings... were slowly killing her.

"Don't even start," Karasu holds a hand to her face, he couldn't stomach that teasing shine in her eyes. How long has it been since he last saw that? Far too long he believes, still... he asked himself why he didn't miss it as much as he thought he would've.

Back then, even if it annoyed him to the point of starting a fist fight with [Name]—which he not-so-surprisingly lost every single time—he would secretly be grateful that she pushed him to go reach for the things that made him happy. In his little love life endeavors. No matter how badly it ended for the two of them—like getting scolded for coming home late or getting accompanied by the neighbor who owned Miiko, the cat, back home.

So why now? He didn't quite understand why it had to be now that it felt so wrong to see her pushing him towards someone else again.

She used to do it all the time, and it never bothered him.

Karasu briefly asked himself if the reason behind it was because they spent three—going four—years having no one else but each other. No, that couldn't have been it. Hiori was there sometimes, and Karasu was sure it never felt like this unpleasant feeling.

This was [Name] for crying out loud! The elementary kid who offered a half-eaten popsicle to him like it was some treasure. [Name] whom he pushed into the mud pond and laughed as she tried to get the dirt off her face. [Name] who could kick him so hard that he would fight to hold back his tears—even now that they were in high school.

[Name] was his best friend...

"I'll help ya get with 'er!" she grins, planting her hands on her hips in that little mannerism of hers that Karasu bets she doesn't even know she does, as though she was about to give him some prophet-level guidance free of charge.

Karasu just stares at her, longer than he would have liked to admit. Has she always been this short? Or did he simply grow taller?

Had they always been like this?

Yeah, she was his best friend.

And there should be nothing more.

…Right?

---

And so, the first semester of their first year in high school was spent planning ways to get Karasu together with Marisa while [Name] pulled all the hair on her scalp trying to hide her ever growing affection for her violet-haired friend.

This also consisted of asking around the campus for Marisa with [Name] doing all the "cow's work" as Karasu had oh-so-gently put it, which merited him a much-deserved kick to his shin.

He had many excuses. One, he didn’t want to seem desperate (which he was). Two, he was too busy (which he is). And three, apparently, he didn’t want any rumors to start going around that he was still pining over his elementary school crush (which he very much was).

Even if [Name] told him not to be ashamed of it, Karasu still couldn't bring himself to do it...

Part of it, though, was because he didn’t miss the way the fire in [Name]’s eyes froze over whenever it was mentioned. He just decided that he didn't like that even if he didn't know the reason why. It bothered him. A lot.

If it were [Name] who asked around, it was different. There would be nothing to worry about since she was also a girl, and girls look for other girls all the time, didn't they? They even accompany each other to the restroom like a pair of FBI Agents.

And if Karasu were to lay his heart bare for everyone to see, the only girl he looked around for, flipped heaven and earth over, out of his own jurisdiction and nearly toppled over in despair when he couldn’t find—aside from his mom and his older sister—was [Name].

But he didn’t know how to tell that to her.

The two best friends (mainly [Name] doing all the hard work) discovered a couple of interesting information about Karasu’s person of affection:

Marisa was in the swim club, an extremely coincidentally convenient twist of fate since the pool was by far the nearest facility near the soccer field (the dojo the farthest having been located on the other side of the school).

She excelled in Japanese Literature and Chemistry.

She worked part-time at a local café on Saturdays around the afternoon, another heaven-sent opportunity since soccer practice ended right before noon.

And finally written at the bottom of the paper in all caps along with a few doodles of hearts.

4. MARISA LIKES MUSHROOMS!!! ❤❤🍄❤❤

"Is that enough, yer highness?" [Name] asks him sarcastically, rubbing the tiredness from her eyes as she had spent majority of her night stalking Marisa across all social media platforms.

She could pass as a CIA agent by now from all this digging.

She eyes the page ripped from her notebook that Karasu held in one hand as they sat face to face in the classroom—with their desks pushed together to accommodate their lunches.

Written on the slightly wrinkled paper, in messy scrawny handwriting were the fruits of her hard labor.

"I better get compensated for his, you rabies-infected crow." she mumbles, resting her head on the desk, closing her eyes from the tiredness.

"Wow, ya got all of this in one night?" Karasu scans the paper, they weren’t much but it was still far more than what he could’ve gathered on his own. His stare lingered a moment longer on the girl—noting the way her head stayed resting on the desk, exhaustion seeping through the crevices of her skin as he observes the way her entire frame wilted from exhaustion.  

[Name] hummed in confirmation, far too tired to give a worded reply. Now that the less than sufficient hours of sleep were getting to her, she feared that if she spoke another word to Karasu about Marisa, she would end up saying something she'd regret. So, it was best to just... stay silent.

It's getting easier to hear Karasu talk about Marisa. Bearable in the kindest word; numbing in the worst. Still, it didn't mean that she could deny that it hurt any less.

Learning to live through something was very different from accepting it, especially when it was the one you love loving someone else.

[Name] just hopes that she gets over this soon—because the last thing she wanted was to get in the way of Tabito's happiness. Or worse, lose him because of her own selfishness—because she couldn't get over a silly pathetic crush—that she couldn't stop wanting, praying… hoping to have him more than a friend.

"Oh, she likes mushrooms," she hears Karasu mumble, seemingly intrigued.

It was better to pretend that she didn't hear him. It's better this way, she tells herself. He wasn't going to remember anyway, but somehow, her traitorous mouth always worked faster than her brain, a step too late to grab the chance to hold her tongue before she says something she would regret... which is now.

"Ya can give her yer mushrooms now, Tabi-chan."

Silence blanketed the distance between them, seemingly setting them apart from the reverberating chaos ensuing in the classroom.

[Name] was embarrassed beyond belief, feeling her entire face catch fire yet was too exhausted to shield it away from him—not like he could see, but still!

Please let the ground swallow me whole.

Karasu looks to her like she suddenly grew three heads. "I'll always give ya my mushrooms, [Name].” He whispers softly, placing an elbow on the table, propping his face upright with his palm as he unconsciously smiled at the blush that littered the meadows of her face.

“Ya love 'em right? Just ‘bout the only other thing ya like other than Miiko." He snickers at his own jest, remembering a time in their childhood where [Name] would look over the fence and stare at the neighbor's cat for hours or chase it around the little alley way near Miiko's house.

She felt her heart skip a beat. [Name] blamed it on the weather, or perhaps a growing ailment that made her heartbeat irregular. This was practically Arrythmia—dangerous and a health risk!

But she was sure that heart diseases didn’t come with lingering affections for your best friend. It also didn’t come with the pain of knowing that he was never gonna like her back. And she was most certain that it wasn’t attached with happiness after knowing that he remembers…

[Name] didn't like that she felt happy that Karasu knew that little thing, even if everything about her had practically become baseline knowledge for the soccer player. She just didn't like it.

"Uhuh," she agrees mindlessly, her voice squished by gravity as she remained still laying her head on the desk facing the window and looking at the world vertically.

"When ya marry her, can't just go out in the middle of dinner ta hand me some mushrooms, right?" She teases, the rumble of her laughter feeling more like a hurtful jab to her already breaking heart.

"I guess..." Karasu no longer stared at the paper he held in his hand, opting to observe his very sleep deprived [Name].

Maybe the dryness of her eyes was getting to her or perhaps she was tired of him beating around the bush and walking on eggshells every time Marisa was around.

Karasu sighs, folding the paper three times and tucking away in the safety of his bag. The raging inferno in her soul dwindled to a small flame, her usual bladed tongue that cut through his ego had dulled, her silence all too prominent in a world where everyone had something to say.

Ah… I don’t like this.  

"Hey, gorilla woman." he grips her head like a ball, although he took a conscious effort not to hurt her—lest he risk his well-being be a training dummy for the karate practitioner.

[Name] tried to wave away his arm but right now, she was too tired to even lift her hand. She could only mumble a very annoyed, "Don't call me gorilla, you rat-nest haired crow."

"Let's go to a café this weekend." he suggests, taking a strand of her smooth hair and twirling it between his fingers like it was some sort of scientific breakthrough.

Was it weird that he was inviting her to go out all of a sudden?

But this was [Name]! They always went out together whether it's the local fair, watching a soccer match, those late-night convenience store runs... this was nothing special.

Karasu started to chant that phrase like a mantra in his head. He was catching himself doing that too much—trying to convince himself that it was nothing—that spending time with [Name] was like a norm already.

They've done it a thousand times and he reckons, a thousand more after this... so what's the difference?

His heart thudded against the confines of his ribs at the sight of her: tired beyond all rhyme and reason, brows furrowed from the noise buzzing in the small room filled with their classmates and other students, her empty bento box next to his own like yin and yang. Salt and pepper. It wasn’t complete without the other.

Has she always been this present in his life? Since when? When did she start to be so interwoven in everything he did that it became strange when she suddenly disappears even when she’s right there? Really… since when?

Since forever...

And maybe, just maybe, that was the difference.

An idiotic part of [Name] rejoiced at his invitation—

"We can see Marisa there while we're at it," he quickly adds without thought, afraid she might misunderstand.

—yet all too suddenly; cruelly, she is reminded that she shouldn't long to be more than just his friend.

"Sure thing, Tabi-chan..." she whispers softly, forcing the thorns in her throat to pin down the hurt so they wouldn’t tumble out—that he may never see them.

And there, with the afternoon gale flowing past the curtains, she feels her heart breaking a little bit more.

---

When the weekend rolled around, Karasu finished his soccer practice exactly before noon, leaving him with a few spare minutes to change into the extra clothes he brought with him. Initially, he felt like the unluckiest athlete in the world when he dragged his ass here at 5 in the morning yet now that he was preparing to spend the rest of his day earlier than what he originally planned, he began thinking that it wasn't so bad after all. At the very least, it gave him enough time to go and see [Name] look at him in envy that his practice ended earlier than her.

[Name], much to Karasu's expectations, did not look at him in jealousy as he had hoped. Instead, she was second-in-line for kicking practice, looking like all the forces of good and evil conspired together to make her day as terrible and energy-draining as much as it could.

The Karate coach, a middle-aged woman who was also their gym teacher, made everyone stay back to practice some drills, claiming she saw it on her social media feed last night and wanted everyone to try it out... and no one was going to leave until at least one of them got it. It was cruel—very much the kind of savagery she expected to get from this tyrant (coach) in her innate domain (karate)—not that she was any stranger to cruelty, though she would be lying if she claims she didn't feel just a little bit sad when she was at the receiving end of it.

Karasu was allowed to stay in the dojo and watch, so long as he remained a safe distance from any potential kicking pads that might come flying his way—a warning he engraved to his mind and soul after getting smack-dabbed in the face by one, and many, many close calls.

It wouldn't be the first time he'd watch [Name] practice; he'd been making the trip from the soccer field to the dojo ever since the beginning of first year that the coach relented and let him stay no matter how many times she told him to go away.

Karasu didn't mind the extra cardio, more often than not, [Name] was the one who had practice running so far from dismissal time, leaving him with nothing to do but sit and wait for her to finish so they could go home together. And it was rarely the other way around.

But seeing her here, in her element, always tugged at something in his chest. A sort of reminder that this was the girl he was lucky enough to call his best friend.

When it was [Name]'s turn to do the drill, everything faded to silence... until it was just her: bouncing on her feet under a thousand shimmering lights, drawing in a breath in preparation. And like the flow of the spring zephyrs, she sliced through the air like a fairy—an aggressive and very, very strong fairy—striking the lowest pad with her left foot, her right foot forcing the middle pad to fly, and finally—after so many failed attempts and an almost sprained ankle—successfully kicked the last top pad with her left foot.

She landed gracefully, like the first fall of snow, shattering the momentary reverie Karasu found himself raptured into.

What the hell?

[Name] looked to her coach in miserable anticipation, a silent plea to release her from this torture. It was between this room and this witch how many times she and her teammates had to do that godawful trick.

The coach gushed over the exhausted [Name], complimenting her for a few seconds before dismissing training.

[Name]'s tired vision zeroed in on Karasu, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor near the door, bag next to his side, and looking every bit the part of someone going on the most anticipated date of his life. [Name] blamed it on the light, or the fatigue seeping into the cracks of her heart, but for a small moment, a foreign light shone through the depths of sapphire pools of his irises.

She thought nothing of it, choosing to lazily wave at him from where she stood, completely oblivious to the lingering glimmer in his expression or the way his face shone brighter at her greeting as he waves back; that for the first time ever, the usually cocky soccer player found himself drowning in the oceans of shyness and hesitance at the sight of his best friend.

"Imma change real quick, so wait for me a little longer, 'kay?" she called, brushing past his figure as she sluggishly—bag in hand—made her way to the locker rooms.

Karasu nodded absentmindedly, his eyes tracing the shadows of her figure until she disappeared around the corner.

C’mon, me, this isn’t the time to feel all mushy for [Name]! That’s [Name]! Your best friend! The gorilla girl next door always working hard like a cow, he internally scolds himself.

Karasu let out a low groan, slumping over on the floor, staring at the place where [Name] once stood. He swore he could almost see her figure there, and he would have believed his own illusions if he didn't just see her walk past him to go change.

The soccer player runs a hand over his face in frustration. "Honestly, what's wrong with me..." he mumbles, covering his head with his arm like it can somehow magically put out the wildfire wreaking havoc on the meadows of his face, burning through his resolve like paper.

In the locker room, [Name] was facing a dilemma of her own.

"Hey, [Last Name]-chan, are you and Karasu-kun going out?" one of her teammate asks, a gentle curiosity for Karasu and her long-term friendship, but the words felt like collapsing stars in the once quiet place.

In horrified befuddlement, [Name] screamed an anguished—"Huh?!" like the words her teammate spoke had been a cursed enchantment that will linger through her bloodline for a thousand generations and not the fantasy she wanted to bleed into reality.

"That gel-faced crow who's scared of water? Hell no!" she denies, trying to have it look like the teases and jeers she usually passed around with others.

"But he always waits for you to finish practice" her teammate pointed out.

And it was true—Karasu always made the trip across campus just to wait for [Name] to conclude training no matter how long it dragged on. She recalls the many times the soccer player had fallen asleep by the door, using her gym bag as a pillow because, according to him, her clothes were fluffier and a lot more comfortable that the mess of dirty, sweat-drenched heap in his bag he called clothes.

And as told by another one of his anecdotes, [Name]'s stuff (and even herself) were lot more preferable sleeping buddies than a soccer ball. A soccer ball! Then there was also the day he carried her home after a particularly bad fall from kicking practice, even if Karasu himself was tired beyond belief.

"That mole rat's been around for so long, we prolly look the same in everyone's eyes by now." [Name] jokes as she continues to rummage through her bag, shaking her head from the horrible image of her having Karasu’s hair.

"And besides..." she murmurs, her gaze distant as she stares at the dress she chose—picking apart her closet all night, spending so long trying to carefully place it in her bag—only to betray herself by abandoning it last minute.

He already likes someone else.

---

The walk to the café was relatively silent.

Karasu kept the comments of [Name] being far too quiet for the past week to himself. He thought, maybe she was just tired. The school festival was coming up, but she also still had to train. It was cruel, especially the arduous training he saw her endure earlier that she looked ready to rearrange her coach’s face to roadkill.

Domed by an eternally blue sky, he glances at her from the corner of his eyes.

She looked like hell!

Karasu wasn’t about to lie and tell her that she looked great—that would just be cruel—so he chose not to say anything at all.

He didn’t trust himself with his words, a restraint he put on himself like heaven’s command after he caught himself looking around a store and thinking: Oh, [Name] would like this,or, She’d look good in this, before a hollowing echo of, She always looks good in everything though,would cause him to freeze where he stood and cover his face in shame for having such thoughts.

By far the worst case of this was when he stopped someone because he mistook her for [Name]—it was ridiculous! This was getting outrageous!

Yet one look at her, right here, when all the colors of the sun had painted her in an ethereal light, how could he still think that she was the most beautiful person on the planet?

It must be witchcraft. A curse put upon him for lying. A truth… that he was finding increasingly difficult to deny.

Absolutely… ridiculous…

"You tired?" he asks casually, even if the answer was staring at the road in the form of dark circles heavier than Oganesson.

"Nah.” She smiles through the haze, lazily eyeing him from the sides. “This is the usual ain't it?" she laughs, shifting the weight of her bag that she refused to let Karasu carry despite his many offers and demand for her to just give it to him.

"Don't act so tough, gorilla woman. If yer tired, we can always just go another day." He rubs the back of his neck, finding no other thing to do to ease this shaking sensation in his cardiac muscles.

"Stop callin’ me gorilla woman, you turd-face crow,” she barks, though her tone didn’t hold an ounce of real bite. “'Sides... we're already here. It'd be a shame to leave now."

They stood in front of a glass-front café, cakes and other deserts peering at the passersby from the window. The little signboard by the door offering a warm welcome.

The scent of something faintly sweet weaved with the aroma of coffee waltzed though the warm air of the shop, a low hum of conversation rippling the serene atmosphere.

It thankfully was not the busiest place on the planet. There were a couple of middle school kids by the window side laughing amongst themselves, an office worker staring blankly into the horizon as the sunlight caught her auburn hair in a shimmering light, lastly, an elderly couple shared a pie and some loving smiles near the bar.

"Welcome!" A melodic voice cuts through the air, littered with all the scent of flowers in an open field, warm like the hearth of a fire.

Karasu turned at the direction of the voice, squinting at the sight of a girl in an apron holding a notepad. Who the hell was this loser? He thought, amused in the kindest light, domineering, in the worst.

The soccer player pushes [Name] to an empty booth, telling her to go order whatever her heart desires.

“Just get me whatever,” she mutters, closing her eyes looking every bit like the monks he occasionally sees on TV… only cuter—what the actual hell?

“Sorry to burst yer bubble but they aren’t sellin’ that here.” He teases, reaching over to pinch her cheeks to get her to wake.

“Ow! Quit that!” She yelps and swats his hand away, sticking her tongue out at him before grabbing the menu from the table. “I’m gonna make your pockets hurt, turd-face.”

She buries her head in the menu dedicating every bit of concentration on the booklet, and he let her—even if he knew how this was gonna end.

“The Chocolate Milk non-coffee drink! And some cake trio platter!” she smiles at him—like he hung the constellations in the sky, or that he had been the one who conjured all the colors of the sun—the first in a long while, so it seems.

“Ya always get that everywhere we go.” He sighs, tracing her features with a gentle gaze.

“Ya asked me what I wanted, and I want that—” she raises her voice in faux defiance as if daring him to contradict her.

“Yeah, yeah…” he waves her off, flicking her forehead to add to her ire. “’Scuse me,” he calls over the lady who welcomed them earlier.

[Name], lost in her own thoughts, allowed her gaze to linger on his side-profile from under her lashes. It wasn’t intentional. Why was he sitting there like that anyway all broad-shouldered and tall and—and…

She sighs in defeat.

When did you get so pretty? She thinks, mapping the edges of his jaw, memorizing the sudden sharpness in his gaze.

When did I get so sappy? She lets out a breath, shaking her head to clear her thoughts.

"Oh, Karasu-kun! Long time no see!"

The greeting caused [Name]’s eyes to shoot open, her stare landing on Karasu before it traced his gaze to the café worker smiling at them—at him, every atom the embodiment of a daydream. Built upon the foundation of effortless femininity.

“Uh…” Karasu trails off, unsure of what to reply. He was certain he didn’t know this person—

“You don’t remember me?” the waitress points to herself, “It’s Marisa, from elementary school.” She laughs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ears.

Karasu didn’t speak for a moment, short enough to feel natural yet all the stretch to let [Name] know that he was struggling to think about what to say.

"Marisa… Oh, Marisa!” His voice raises higher than expected, like he was caught red-handed for something he was guilty about. “Didn't expect you to be working here." He says, his easy-going tune hiding the truth that they intentionally chose this place because she was working here—that it was not a fated coincidence but a conspired plan. That was what [Name] thought, after all, she was the one who brought him here.

But Karasu… Karasu had forgotten all about that.  

"[Last Name]-san, too. Hello," Marisa greets politely, every inch of her polished to a girly perfection. [Name] nods her head in acknowledgement, mumbling a quiet “Hi”.

"So, what can I get you two?" She asks smoothy, quickly pulling out a notepad.

Karasu steals a glance at [Name] finding her slumped where she was seated, painfully aware of the feel of her knee grazing his from under the table.

"I'll get the bamboo shoot soup if ya will." He replies cooly, like it was the most natural thing in the world, and it probably was.

What wasn’t natural, however, was that…

"Ever the favorite, huh?" Marisa teased, writing down his choice. "Ours have some mushrooms in it, so do be careful."

…She remembered.

"No biggie, [Name] here loves those." Karasu tilts his head to her direction. Did he have all the intention to rub it in her face that he was so close to getting the girl of his dreams? Or did the world mocked her through him as if saying, in big bold letters: Stop dreaming already, girl, yer never gonna get ‘im. Totally not cool.

[Name] didn’t know how to reply, she had no intention of doing so in the first place since she wasn’t even supposed to be part of this conversation to begin with.

"Really? I love mushrooms too, [Last Name]-san." Marisa beams, smiling like an angel.

"Well ain't that a surprise!" Karasu laughs.

No... it really wasn't.

He was enjoying this too much, [Name] thinks. How cruel does fate have to be that [Name] was hearing this conversation right in front of her face? Pretty damn cruel. She was no stranger to that, her coach made sure of it, fate made it certain, and the world set it in stone so that she may never forget.

Yet it still hurt. It hurts… so much. Every time she’s led back to this road, back to this desolate, empty, and pot-hole-riddled road—her resolve… breaks just a little bit more.

But she took one look at him, at Karasu—her best friend in the whole wide universe—looking so happy, and she plunged to freezing depths of her acceptance.

She steeled her heart, tightened the seams that they bled through the threads. Just a little longer, she whispers. Please, just for a little longer. Karasu's happy. Finally, after three long years of waiting for this chance, it's already within his grasp.

That's right.

This is how it should be.

This would be the inevitable outcome of all this planning and running around. All so he can be with her.

These useless feelings need to go away, they need to leave because they would just get in the way. They'll wedge themselves between Karasu and his happiness. [Name]’s yearning to be more than just a friend in his eyes would drive him away. Karasu didn't think of her like that. He didn't like her that way. And he would never. And she needs to learn how to accept that.

Because why would he—how could he—if Marisa was the one in front of him? How could he bring himself to love [Name] when the girl of his dreams liked him, too?

I'd rather see them happy together. So happy that it'll show just how ridiculous it is for me to want him. Until I can't even dream of it anymore.

Because that was how it should be.

This was the reality.

[Name] loves Karasu that much was true.

But... Karasu loved Marisa… and no power on earth was going to change that.

---

"Isn't this strange," Tsubame, Karasu's older sister, mused, looking up from her schoolwork all the way from the dining room table to stare at her little brother's entrance like he was some strange lab experiment gone wrong.

"What's strange?" Tabito questions, yanking his shoe off with all his usual carelessness before haphazardly shoving them in the cabinet by the door.

"Yer not with [Name]-chan."

Tsubame now stood before him, an inch taller than him, courtesy of the higher leveling of their living room from their entry way.

"Didja get in a fight with her or somethin'?" She buzzed around the taller male like a bee, completely forgetting about her work still littered on the table. "Finally win? Yer count is on an outstanding three to fourty seven, those three wins because you cheated!"

Karasu dodged his sister's nosiness, grabbing a glass from the cupboard to fill it with his usual kelp tea.

"We didn't fight," he mumbles, from his spot, he could see past the window above the kitchen sink and to the window of [Name]'s living room. "She was just tired 's all." He answers mindlessly, rinsing off his glass before turning to leave, brushing past his older sister and her simmering curiosity.

Tabito didn't understand it himself.

That was supposed to feel like mission accomplished! He should've been over the moon, even reaching farther than the center of the galaxy... but he wasn't.

He blamed it on the mushroom he was forced to eat! He blamed it on the karate team's coach. He blamed it on destiny, on fate, on any other higher being messing with him and laughing in the coves of their habitats!

Most of all... he blamed himself.

Whose fault was it other than his that all [Name]’s hard work got burnt to the ground?

Because when he talked to Marisa for the first time in three years—just when he thought it would be a lasting moment that would echo for all eternities to come—he felt absolutely nothing. Like that day back in elementary graduation. Completely impassive from that girl's confession.

Empty.

He didn’t even recognize Marisa! He called her a loser! And despite having her right next to him, within arms’ reach, close enough to hold, all the bit possible to touch… all he could think about was the girl sitting in front of him.

How her eyes looked too tired, that she probably wanted nothing more than to sleep, or get that tournament trophy over and done with and goof around.

Everything about Marisa blended with all the colors of the earth, nothing but a backdrop to make everything else shine. Her voice fading to a dull echo until all he could hear was the silence…

"Ya can't keep denying, Tabi-chan."

...Silence left by the lack of [Name]'s presence.

It must be witchcraft; someone must've cast a spell on him on the way home! That must be it! Because why on earth was he hearing [Name]'s voice in the safety of his home when he very much clearly saw her walk through her front door and shut the door on his face?

He blamed it for forgetting to clean his ears earlier, because the next words he heard came in the form of his sister's voice. "If there's somethin’ ya wanna say to her then ya better say it."

It was tsubame-nee-chan from the very beginning.

It was just Tabito thinking otherwise. It was him summoning all these hallucinations of [Name]. Conjuring the image of her in the afternoon haze, seeing her face in the breaks of dawn, hearing her voice in the horizons of twilight. It was all him. All him.

"It'll make ya feel better if yer just honest with yerself. Do it now while ya still have the time." Tsubame places a comforting hand on her little—who is now not so little—brother's shoulder. "Regret always comes when the moment's over."

"Does this come from yer personal experience?" Tabito shot back, evading what he already feels engraving in his heart.

"Imma let that slide, you ungrateful brat," Tsubame smiles through her irritation, before it quickly thaws to a sigh, "It's an old saying, Tabito. 'Repentance comes too late' or 'the biggest fish is always the one that got away'." She shakes her head, tired of her brother being an idiot!

"While she's still there, just tell her how you really feel."

"What's that s'posed to mean?" he barks, aggravated by the hidden implication, he didn't like that—

"Oh, please! Assess yerself for once!" Tsubame yells, throwing her hands fed up with this idiot’s stubbornness, turning her back and retreating to the dining table to continue her work. “Ya shouldn’t need someone to spell it out fer ya! Figure it out like man, ya idiot!”

His sister’s words strike true, rattling the peace within his great fortress of denial. The weight of it left him standing there in the ruins of his cowardness, unsure if he should rebuild the remnants of something he once had thought would stand for eternity.

Tabito needed to know that for himself, he knew that. He also knew that he shouldn't need an external force to have him work on his tangled feelings of friendship and love, because it would make it meaningless. He needed to find that out on his own.

He needed to do all that gruelling powder and brush work on his own accord and find out for himself where exactly did he cross the line between friends and 'I guess spending life with you wouldn't be so bad'.

[Name] was always there.

Everywhere he looked, in every memory he held, she existed. No matter what point in his life he travels back to—she was just... there.

All the memories he could recall had remnants of her: a smile, her daunting laugh, the pain of her kicks, the scent of daylight that lingers around wherever she goes. She was there. In everything. Everywhere. In all the colors of the sun.

The heat from soccer practice. The gentle gale of spring. The moon in all its glory. She was there. The laughter echoing in the streets. A shadow in the playground. The starting thought before daybreak. A lingering memory before he succumbs to slumber. She was there.

In all his thoughts, every action, every smile, every laugh... they all led back to her. The fall of snow, the rain of petals, the crashing waves, the eternal saturated autumn sky.

There's a piece of her in everything.

When did it all change?

When did I start seeing you like this? When did I go so far beyond the boundary that I couldn't see that everything was blurring past all the colors of friends? When did I start missing the sound of your voice? When did I start staying in the illusion that I didn't see you more than a friend?

When did I...

This was the reality.

An undeniable truth he had always run away from. Choosing to cower behind the fragments of a past he had long swept out of his heart.

He was in love with her.

Karasu Tabito... was in love with [Name].

And he has been for a long time.

---

When Monday morning came in, Karasu showed up on her doorstep with his uniform thrown on his figure looking like a whirlwind passed him by on his way to her house.

He gave her his usual smirk, trying to bite at her ego from the way he stares at her. Condescending from an outsider’s words; lovesick from his.  

“Didja run twenty before comin’ here on somthin’?” She teased, fixing his crooked tie with a laugh.

Karasu stares at her face scrunched into concentration, his head buzzing from the drumming of his heart—reaching all the way to the tip of his fingers. He prayed to all the deities out there that she couldn’t hear the way his chest wanted to split open from the lingering warmth of her touch. Or that she couldn’t feel that his body was emitting more heat from her close proximity.

Did he do this on purpose? No.

But for once he thanked all the cells in his body for working late on a Monday morning because he gets to be at the receiving end of [Name]’s warm touches.

“Tabi-chan? Are ya listenin’?”

Karasu’s momentary reverie crumbled at the sound of her voice. [Name] eyes him with heavy concertation, tilting her head as she looks up at him, her hand no now holding to the strap of her bag.

“Sorry, what were you sayin’?” he whispers, his breath falling short and had his words tumbling like the wind, left for only his and the earth to hear.

[Name] paid no mind to his strange demeanor, shifting her weight from one foot to another and looked at anything but his searching gaze.

“I said I was sorry,” she purses her lips together, the words didn’t taste particularly unpleasant, but the reminder of their laughter still haunted her more than she’d like to admit. “Fer cuttin’ yer date short with ‘er, I mean.” She clarifies, shutting the door behind her as she steps a foot onto the front lawn, walking past Karasu who stood on her porch a moment longer than usual.

Karasu quickly pulled himself together and closed the distance she put between them in a few large strides, slyly taking her bag with her as he distracted her with conversation.

"'S nothin'. We had a talk while ye were dyin' in the bathroom," he muses, poking at her side to rile her up.

"Hey! I wasn't dyin'—" [Name] rose to protest, because she really wasn’t. She excused herself to the bathroom to spit out whatever the hell it was that she ate—"Their bread had raisins on them. Raisins. I hate raisins." She argues defensively, crossing her arms over her chest… entirely unaware that her bag was no longer in her hold.

"Could've given them to me," Karasu shrugs, leaning half his weight on her, a terrible habit he developed when they were nine years old and hasn’t grown out of ever since.

[Name] dragged her weight to her legs, trying to keep both him and her upright. She doesn’t wanna topple over the sidewalk... again. It’s happened too many times already, and with more than at least ten of their neighbors seeing.

"Not in front of yer Mona Lisa," [Name] sneers, pushing his ever-drawing face away.

"Puhlease, she's hardly a Mona Lisa." Karasu comments, voice mumbled by the nice-smelling hand that belonged to the girl next to him.

[Name] was not sure how to respond to that. The truth was that they left the café after they finished eating. But some might think, oh, isn’t that what you do though? Well, it was what she wanted to do. She planned that meet-up to end with Karasu and Marisa living happily ever after. But as she went to the bathroom, came back, and told Karasu that she had to go home because she wasn’t feeling well—he offered to walk her home. It was what a good friend does, really it was. But you don’t do that when the girl you like is standing right next to you!

Plus, they talked about that! [Name] told him that she was gonna make up some dumb excuse to get them alone. This was the dumb excuse! But he was being more of an idiot than the idiotic excuse leaving her lips.

In the end, they ended up bidding her farewell… with Karasu lying through his teeth that he was gonna come back—not that [Name] knew that considering she was far too busy glaring at him from the side.

"Marisa... has a boyfriend already,"

Karasu’s voice froze the gaping silence between them, his words flying into the blue skies, forever left to find their way to the land of acceptance Karasu has long since passed.

[Name] looked to him in shock, stumbling over her step before regaining her footing only to gawk at him again.

Is that true? Did Marisa really have a boyfriend? Since when? I never saw that on her socials. Did Karasu confess or something? Or was Marisa possessed by some sort of psychedelic mind reader?

[Name] would never know… and she reckons Karasu was never gonna talk about it either. She knows that look, when his eyes stare so far into the distance she begins to wonder if he was seeing a portal to another universe open before his eyes, let’s not talk about it.

"Oh... uhmm,” she starts; racking her brain for an appropriate response that wasn’t Hell yes! or Woo hoo! because that was not appropriate in the least. “That's rough buddy." She awkwardly pats his back, only this time, she had no melted, half-eaten popsicle to offer him. Only a heart, battered and bruised, covered in bandages and held together by a thread… that will only ever be his.

"Ya know, I thought I’d be more upset about it." Karasu looks to the heavens, oddly vocal of what he felt.

Maybe it was morning dew refracted by the early morning rays. Maybe it was autumn gale, ruffling the threads of his clothes. Maybe it was because of her—of [Name].

She looks at him with a raised brow, "And ya aren't?"

He smiles at her, one so gentle it could rival the clouds, replace the sun in warmth… dethrone Aphrodite from her position. “No,” he whispers, “No I’m not.”

He takes it all in, the image of her in this light. Karasu traces the contours of her face, the dust of roses powdered on the hills of her cheeks, the shine of a thousand galaxies in the pools of her irises.

Karasu was never one to believe in magic, or the supernatural… he couldn’t even consider himself an avid fan of the faerie folk.

But if somehow, somewhere—in this vast infiniteness, in the depths of the parallels, and the lullabies of the unknown—if there existed a figure for love, he was sure that it would be her.

"Maybe it's cuz I never liked her enough to begin with."

His confession slipped past his lips in a low murmur, faint enough that it could pass as a song of the fall, but she heard it. Always. Because what else could explain the reason that [Name] had suddenly started choking on her spit.

"Oi! Ya alright? Hey! [Name]! Don't die!" Karasu panics.

"Whaddaya mean ya don't like her?!” She screams, shoulders heaving from the sudden strain on her lungs. “What's all that work for then? Didya lie to me? Karasu Tabito—"

Her tone sent shivers crawling through his spine. "Woah,” he raises his arms in surrender. “Don't go drawin' the full name card on me [Name]." he tries to laugh it off, but the look in her unimpressed eyes told him that he needed to say something else.

"I did get somethin' out of yer hard work," he smiles.

"Which is?" [Name] nods in anticipation, leaning closer.

"Realizin' I don't like her anymore."

[Name] draws a deep breath, releasing it in an exaggerated huff of air, and without another word, continued to walk to school.

This was hopeless.

She walked in front of him. One, because she didn’t want to look at his face at the moment. And two, so that he won’t be a witness to her burning cheeks and her desperately suppressed smile. Yeah, no way in hell was she letting him see that!

"Told ya about it remember?" he calls from behind, a good four to five steps apart.

"I can barely remember what I ate yesterday, ya gotta be more specific."

Karasu stares at the back of her head, a view he’d seen for at least half his life already. "That day… by the seaside."

[Name] remained wordless; she remembers that vividly. Because how could she ever bring herself to forget.

The day that she…

"Ya have the memory of a goldfish," Karasu groans, every bit the telenovela star he was. "I told ya, getting’ love ain't everythin' in this world."

…began to like this guy.

"Oh." She whispers.

"Remember now?"

That memory had always been something she treasured, never an ephemeral wandering like a half-buried shell washed ashore.

[Name] looks to him from over her shoulder as she nods in confirmation. "What's that gotta do with this though?" She continues ever forward, eyes once more trailing to focus on the pavement before her.

Karasu’s answer got stuck in the tunnels of his throat, like his own brain was unsure of the reason why he brought it up in the first place. He just wanted to talk to her, to hear her voice echo for all eternity in the caves of his soul, even long after he’s left this world. "Losin' an ordinary girl ain't worth it to be upset over."

[Name]’s footsteps falters, the edge of her shoe getting caught by a crack appearing out of nowhere, much like her own traitorous heart, once again caught in the snares of his words. The words someone spoke to her long ago echoing in her head, you two are finally reaching the age of maturity. Finally—after so, so long—brave enough to let do of the things that weren’t meant to stay, and to be strong enough to accept those who were supposed to.

"Woah," this time, [Name] turned to face him with a skin-crawling grin, an all too familiar shape, he thinks.

"Who ever knew a day would come when Karasu Tabito calls his lifelong love an ordinary girl—"

"She wasn't a lifelong love!"

---

It took a long time for Karasu to gather the dust and form the courage to profess his love for [Name].

He was cocky, and overconfident, and rough and ragged around the edges, and disliked it when anything went wrong. Basically, he was his own enemy when it came to his own love life. Sure, people liked him enough to give him Valentine’s Day chocolates, but the issue lies in him, not his admirers. For the life of him, he could not be nice to anyone he saw as mundane or boring. He was an—in the nicest way possible—Karasu Tabito was an asshole. His smirk didn’t help his case one bit.

Oh, but how humbling an experience it is for him when she was the one standing before him. The great, I’m-gonna-make-you-see-yer-ordinary Karasu Tabito who stared down his opponents on field, was afraid to tell his best friend that he liked her.

That’s why he had dragged his feelings by the collar all the way to their second year of high school. His sister had more than a few not so nice things to say about him when she hears that up until now, he was still shaking in his elementary-school-boy shorts.

But could they blame him? Yeah, they really could. Even his parents looked at him weird when he always offered to wash the dishes at night because it gave him the excuse to see [Name] from the comfort of her living room.

Still, here he was—beating around the bush with the girl he likes.

But could they really blame him? This was [Name]! The one who could brawl in a gang fight barehanded and win. [Name] who had the nicest laugh and the warmest touch. It was [Name] whom he liked… [Name] who was dyed in all the colors of the sun.

And he was scared to lose her.

Karasu didn’t want to mess this up because not only will he lose her as a lover, he’d also be left to live in a word where he was no longer her best friend.

What if he did confess and she turns him down?

What then?

In his eyes, compared to her—[Name] who was everything in his world—to [Name] who had the nicest smile, and the happiest laugh, Karasu felt mundane in all the aspects of his life.

So sometimes, when his own emotions overwhelm him as he gets so lost just thinking about her in the silence of the night, he tells himself that maybe, it was fine like this.

Tabito and [Name]; [Name] and tabito. Best friends.

Maybe, he should just shut them in, keep it all inside and wait for it to go away, pray for it to go away. He was having loads of fun already. They were together all the time. Maybe... just maybe... it's fine like this. Maybe staying as childhood friends—as best friends forever—isn't so bad.

"Why're ya dressed like an old man?" [Name] raised a brow at him, lips twitching as she fought tooth and nail to swallow her laugh. Her eyes analyze his get up from head to toe, taking in his fake white beard down to his green yukata and his grey haori, and the geta on his feet that echoed with every exaggerated step; wooden footwear she saw inside her grandpa's shoe cabinet. He was hunched over like a shrimp, with a cane to support his weight.

"'S for the class!" he replies with enthusiasm, stroking his fake white beard like some wise old monk.

"Ya look like a senile old man." [Name] snorts, her restraint shattering at the angry look on his face as her laugh resonates in the crowded hallway. She adjusts her grip on the box of props, shoulders shaking from the little giggles that seeped from her lips.

Karasu cracked an eye open to glare at her, and with an added pizzazz, rose in hand to counter—more like agree—with her. "I am a senile old man!"

[Name] laughed harder, the box rattling like the happiness that rippled the once serene calmness of her soul. "Ya sound just like gramps!" She breathes, wiping her eye on the cloth of her shoulder.

Karasu grumbles in defeat, knowing he couldn't win against [Name] and her oh-so-creative teasing.

He dropped the act and adjusted his posture to stand to his full height, ultimately noting that [Name] had stopped laughing once she realizes that in height, Karasu would always have the last laugh. Or in this case, a triumphant smirk on his face as he eyes her from above, not even craning his head.

She squints her eyes at him. “Damn evolution,” she mutters under her breath and made sure her voice was loud and clear as she finishes her sentence with— “Since when did idiots grow to be so tall?!”

[Name] hmphed, turning her head to look away and sidestepped to get past himto move onward to her destination, but before she could, Karasu shifted to block her path.

"What is it now—" The words got lodged in the tunnels of her throat as the weight of the box she’s been carrying since the school gate suddenly disappeared from her arms.

She looked at him, startled to find him looking at anywhere but her. The autumn daylight made the crimson on his cheeks all the more prominent.

Karasu couldn’t bring himself to believe that he could ever be happy with being just her friend. He reckons he never will. It would kill him not to love her beyond all this. If there ever existed a universe where he was contented with that—he was damn sure it would not be this one.

Because he as much as he was cocky, and overconfident, and an asshole. Karasu was greedy. And he was selfish. And painfully stubborn.

"Just helpin' the pretty girl lift the heavy boxes."

[Name]’s face erupted into a thousand shades of red, but this time, she had nothing to use to hide it from him. He caught her by surprise. A dirty trick. Ambushed her to this—this… vulnerable position. She could feel like fire spread through her veins like lava, setting all in its wake into a melting heat, burning at the thorns of her restraint, drowning the caves of her hesitance to a resounding calm, and lighting the heavens of her soul into all the colors of the sun.

She hated this. Stupid Tabito. Before she could contain herself, her embarrassment took reign of her actions, her knee jerks up, landing a solid kick to the back of his thighs.

"Ow!" He yelps, did Karasu ever mention that her kicks were heavy? Well they were. The force of her assault had him fumbling over his own steps, but he could not stop the growing smile on his face.

"Get goin' old man!" she snaps, crossing her arms and glaring at all the things around them. She was flustered. Her body couldn’t decide if she liked it or hated it. Why does he find the need to say that? Why does Karasu have to be so—so… embarrassing?

[Name] buries her face in the palm of her hands, as if her own flaming limb could help cool the raging inferno on her face. Her mind replays his words like a broken record. Pretty girl. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Did he even mean that? Probably. That stupid crow always pushed her so far, teased her to no end. So, what was the difference this time?

Karasu laughs, a sound so cool and warm, the sting from his best friend’s kick fading to a dull echo. His gaze made from the softest threads, one so intertwined with the melody of affection, blanketed with the warmest colors.

…Maybe it’s because this time around, he actually means it.

And this time, he wasn’t afraid to say it to her.

This one will probably come around to bite him back, but he would take it. Anything the world throws at him—he would take it. Because he wouldn’t allow himself to see another sun if [Name] didn’t go to sleep not knowing that she’s pretty.

---

The day of the school's culture festival rolled around.

For the past three weeks, their class united on the single idea of setting up a little café. By some miracle, they actually pulled it off quite well, despite battling the initial deadline, heavily handicapped at the loss of their two athletes. Between Karasu’s rigorous training schedule and [Name]’s tyrant of a coach monopolizing every spare second of her time for practice, there was no way they were ever going to contribute much beyond the bare minimum.

But [Name] did not want to be dead weight.

She volunteered to carry the boxes containing the ingredients and decorations, carrying them across campus like a one-woman moving company. While Karasu was left with no other option but to dress up like an old man inviting people to come and buy—he would probably garner more attention if he stayed just the way he is, but with his sharp tongue and domineering stare, he would just scare all their customers away (not like a beard and a yukata could hold his words back).

By the time the sun had reached the middle of the sky, they already looked like they wanted to go home—both completely floored from the physical work.

[Name] sat crisscross apple sauce outside the classroom, her back against the wall, and Karasu plopped down beside her, stretching his legs out with a groan—no respect for anyone walking by, his legs were nearly occupying a quarter of the hallway!

Their lunches were as mismatched as their personalities: [Name] poked at the pasta littered with raisins while Karasu grimaced at the sight of mushrooms contaminating his bento.

He knew he should be thankful to his sister who had oh-so-kindly offered to make them lunch seeing as she was on break from college, but Tabito has already told her like a million times! He doesn’t like mushrooms, [Name] does. And [Name] didn’t like raisins, he did!

Without a word, he begins plucking the raisins out of her food like they were newly ripe fruits ready to sell, dumping them on the lid of his bento. In honor of distributive justice, he traded in all the mushrooms he had on his lunch to hers.

"Yer actin' weird," she mutters through a mouthful of pasta, eyeing him from where she sat.

"Whatcha talkin' 'bout, I've always been this kind." He retorts, smiling to convey his sincerity as he places a hand over his heart like it could vouch for his claims.

"Kind-a suspicious ya mean!" [Name] squints at him, pointing a stick of bread at his face. "Just say whatcha wanna say already!"

"Yer ovethinkin' it! i'm always like this!" he defended, not bothering to hide the way he eyes [Name]’s stick of bread.

If he were to just…

"Hey, Tabi-chan...” her call drew the curtains close to his evil scheme. “What would you do if I got a boyfriend?"

Her question silenced the chaos in his head, pulling apart at all the worlds he built until everything came to a standstill. Until he was surrounded by the never-ending nothingness that came with the weight of her question. Heavier than all the stars, so it seems. Why was she saying this? Why now? Why does it have to be now? Now that he was finally—

But she didn’t wait for an answer. Maybe he was perturbed by his silence, mistaking it for agreement. Yet the truth was that she just caught him off guard.

Like [Name]… he didn’t hold all the answers in the world.

"I probably wouldn't, huh?" she laughs, smiling despite the obvious squeeze in her throat. A jest, in the kindest words; hurt, in the worst. "No one's ever gonna want a brute like me."

That's not true, Karasu wanted to protest. What she spoke of couldn't have been farther from the truth.

He didn’t want her to think like that—she just couldn’t. She was someone who deserved the love she wanted to have… more than anyone else. And he wanted to say that to her. He wanted to tell her desperately that there was someone who loved her—hell, so many people loved her.

Every day, he raced against so many people for her affection, for a chance to feel what it’s like to be loved by someone like her.

"There's gotta be someone out there, right?" he offers. Or right here... if you can only look at me. "Someone who'll love you… just fer who ya are."

"Ya really believe in that?" she asked, laughing again, but this time it sounded more like an escape. She wraps the furoshiki on the bento box, her hands moving far too quickly that Karasu knew she was doing it just so she wouldn’t have to look at him.

But that didn’t matter. She could turn a blind eye to him today. He would wait. Ignore his attempts tomorrow—he would still wait. Stay oblivious to it for the next five years? Then he’ll just have to step up his game.

"I know it."

There was something about the way he said it, shacked by all the chains of his beliefs, as thought there could exists no surer thing that what he knew right at this very moment.

It took her by surprise, stole all the breath reserved in her lungs that she forgot that she needed to breathe to see the next day.

“Ya don’t even need to wish fer that,” he adds, voice steadied by the foundation of his own experiences. “They come naturally,” he continues.

In all the forms you can think of. A piece of paper with the things about yer crush. A soccer ball. The kicking pad almost takin’ yer head off. Or a melting, half-eaten popsicle on a summer day.

“Sometimes… ya never realize ya had them all along.”

[Name] formed her courage from the dust, turning to look at him, despite every pull of gravity telling her not to.

He was never gonna make forgetting him easy, was he? Perhaps he never wanted her to forget. Because how could she when Karasu says all these things that made her heart want to run out of her own chest? When he says all these that it leads her back to her planet-sized crush on him. How was she supposed to get away from him now? How was she supposed to move on? How was she going to ever fully deny that she didn't like him anymore when everything, in everywhere... all the roads lead straight back to him?

“And ya don’t need to wish for him to love you…”

Karasu smiles at her, one so different from all the others he ever gave her. Dyed in all the colors of gratitude, blessed by the heavens, shaded in all the colors of the sun.

“Because he already does.”

---

"Why'd we hafta go, Tabi-chan?" [Name] whines, tired from all the walking they had been doing for the last thirty minutes, now tired from all the hiking—seriously, who hikes in the evening?

"Whaddaya mean why?” Karasu shot back, raising a questioning brow at her complain. “We always go every year! And don't act like ya don't like it when yer all dressed up." he points to her yukata, dyed in the shade of violets, decorated with the flowing river in the form of cranes. Karasu had to leash his head and make a conscious effort not to look too much lest he risk getting reported for being a creep.

"Only cuz Ma made me,” she admits, tugging slightly at her obi. “Always naggin' 'bout actin' like a girl and lookin' like a girl as if I ain't a girl." She huffs, the corners of her lips weaving to a scowl.

Karasu tilted his head in fond gentleness. “You look beautiful,” he whispers, the sentiment flowing past his lips like the gentle spring breeze. “Yer always beautiful.”

His words crashed against her like a tidal wave: caressing the soles of her feet, drawing back, before coming at her all at once—with little to no warning at all.

[Name] tilts her head to the side to look at him, smiling at him with all the happiness in the universe. “Ya don't look to shabby yerself, Tabito."

Before he could fire back, Karasu caught a glimpse of sparks tracing the obsidian sky, rising to reach the heavens for it to fracture into a thousand colorful fire, dyeing the obsidian canvas with all the colors of man.

Yet he already saw something far more grandeur than those when he looked into the pools of her eyes—reflecting all the stardust and galaxies, as if everything existed just so they could dim when compared to her, like it all came to being, just so they could fall short when she breathes.

"They're so pretty..." she whispers in awe, smiling at the sight of the transient lights.

"Yeah," he hums mindlessly, but his eyes never left hers. You are beautiful.

"I like you, [Name]." Karasu’s words silenced the chaos of the world, as if everything spiralled into nothingness to create a space only the two of them shared.

[Name] stares at him in bewilderment, her lips parted slightly, not knowing what to say.

"Don't look so surprised,” Karasu berates her with a crooked grin. “Whatcha expect? I'm only human, ya know. Ain't immune to yer charms."

"Tabito what the hell—"

Her vision burst forth into multitudes of colors at the sight of him, red-faced, flustered beyond her wildest imagination, eyes that shone with all the bravery and strength in the world, still his voice is riddled with a careful gentleness—like if he spoke any louder, this ephemeral space would crumble and he’d find himself back to reality. But his words would resound in the depths and skies of her soul for all the eternities to come, until all the stars are nothing but a dream. Until the earth is painted with all the colors of the sun.

"I'm in love with you," he confesses, his hand reaching for hers. Shaking from his nerves, determined in his affection.

His eyes searched hers for traces of disdain, any hints that she didn’t want this. Karasu dug through the colors of her face for anything—anything that told him to go away, to never show his face to her ever again.

"And I have been for a long time."

His touch lingered, hesitant to take another step forward.

"I know I'm nothin' much.” He admits, pained at the thought of his own imperfections. “I get jealous easily, and I can't be nice to mediocre people. I can't swim, and I'm afraid of water. I'm prolly the last person ya'd ever want to love ya but..." he falters, his breaths coming in short intakes as he scavenged the lands of his soul for the right words to say—for the courage he had stacked upon one another.

“I don’t—” His voice cracks, holding her hand tightly as if her touch could piece back his crumbing confidence. “I want ya to be happy. God knows that I do. But I don't want to lose ya to anyone else.” But it seems like her warmth could not hold together his voice that shattered from the weight. “I’m selfish. And I’m greedy. If you still have space in yer heart for a little bit more of me, even if the odds are one to a million... then I'd want to have it.”

I'd risk everything to have it.

Karasu looked at her again, mapping the face of the one he loves, breathing heavily until he found the words he always wanted to say. "Yer beautiful. Yer smart, and strong. Anyone would be lucky to have ya love 'em."

He smiled weakly, voice softening to melt into the silence of the night.

"And... I'm just an ordinary guy, standin' in front of the most amazing girl... askin’ her to love him."

He could wait a thousand more years if she told him to. Capture every star in the sky if it makes her happy. Karasu would move the universe for her, and she will only ever need to ask.

He would color the world to her liking if she tells him too.

“Yer an idiot are’ntcha?”

Karasu raised his head to meet the sound of her voice. God, she was so beautiful.

“I guess I am,” he laughs.

“Good on ya that I like idiots.” She tightens her hold on his hand, smiling at him for all that he did and more.

Because people can’t love you exactly the way you want them to. You just have to let them try to do their best.

I think I got sidetracked halfway tbh 💀this is my first time writing a non-tragedy paleontological distaster-ending fic also my first time writing for karasu because he wouldn't leave me alone 😭 I can't believe I managed to give birth to a fic in under four??? yeah four days. I think I began liking this guy like five days ago for some unknown reason 💀 anyway, my requests are still open, and ya can read my other works here! thanks fer readin' 😁❤

[starlemons]

Coffee and Crime ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ PART TWO

Pairing ✦ mafia!bucky x reader

Word Count ✦ 2.2K

Warnings ✦ overall story has a 18+ content warning, MDNI, unwanted groping, attempted SA, mentions of being roofied, mention of blood, physical violence, alcohol, clubbing, someone flashing a crowd, cussing

A/N ✦ I wrote part two a lot quicker than I thought I would, I'm actually really enjoying this story so far! Stay tuned for part three :)

PART ONE »»» Series Masterlist

I will update the series every 1-4 days depending on my schedule

“Would you get your head out of la-la-land and focus.”, Nat said, snapping her fingers in front of your face.

It had been three days since your interaction with Bucky, and you kept finding yourself daydreaming about him, wishing the handsome man would come back into the coffee shop soon.

“Sorry Nat.”, you said sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck.

Your friend stood in front of you in her bedroom, a tight purple dress clung to her figure.

“What do you think of this one?”

“You could wear a trash bag and still look amazing. But I think that I like the green one more.”, you said pointing to the silky cocktail dress she had tossed onto the bed next to where you sat. 

“Well then I guess green it is.”

The two of you were at your and Nat's shared apartment, readying yourselves to go out for your mutual friend Thor’s birthday party. Nat considered herself a clubbing queen, she loved to be the life of the party. You on the other hand would prefer to be at home. 

“Now little-miss-wallflower.”, Nat said pointing to you, “We need to put together something for you to wear.”

She had you try on outfit after outfit, repeatedly saying none of them had that oomph she was going for. 

“Nat can I just wear this?”, you pleaded with her, gesturing to the long black bodycon dress she had put you in.

“No, that's not fitting the image I have in my head.”, she said, ruffling through the closet. 

“And what exactly is that image?”

“I want a sexy, bold, outgoing vibe.”

“You know that being bold and outgoing aren’t exactly my thing, right?”

“Exactly, you need to get out of your comfort zone Y/N, live a little.”

After several more outfit changes Nat finally found the perfect ensemble. A red-wine colored dress adorned your body. Its neckline dipped dangerously low, reaching below your sternum and the bottom of the garment barely hit mid-thigh. 

“Isn’t this a bit much?”, you asked, looking yourself up and down in the mirror. 

“Not in my opinion.” she shrugged, “But anyways you look amazing so I say this is it.”

Staring at yourself again, you did have to admit the dress did make you feel hot. 

“Okay fine, you win, I’ll wear this.”

Nat smiled from ear to ear, “Amazing! Now let’s finish getting ready.”

You added a pair of black heels to your outfit, straightened your hair, and Nat had helped you do a smokey eye for your makeup. After an hour of getting ready, the two of you were walking out the front door and heading downstairs to wait for your Uber. 

After the quick car ride, you and Nat found yourselves outside a club, a bright blue neon sign reading Supernova sat above the front door. Both of you joined the line to get in. Once you reached the front, the bouncer checked your ID’s and stamped your hands with a shooting star that lit up under the flashing lights. 

You scanned the club, glancing over the horde of people, before your eyes finally found who you were looking for. Grabbing Nat’s hand you pulled her behind you in the direction of your friends.

“Y/N! Nat!”, Thor cheered seeing the two of you approaching. 

“Hi Thor! Happy Birthday!”, you yelled over the booming music, giving him a hug.

You then greeted your other friends; Wanda, and Clint. The group sat at a table near one of the many small stages scattered about the club. Each of the platforms had girls dancing on them. Your eyes quickly looked away as one of them took off her top, cheers erupting from the group of men standing below her. You felt beyond out of your element. 

“You look like you’re about to jump out of your skin Y/N.”, Clint chuckled at you.

You shrugged at him, “I think I just need to get a drink in me. I’ll be right back.”

Walking away from your friends you snaked your way through the throng of people dancing, reaching the bar. 

The bartender, a girl with bright pink hair and several facial piercings, turned from the man she was talking to, yelling from the other end of the bar top, “Be with you in just a second!”

You nodded at her, looking up at the chalkboard menu sitting above many shelves of alcohol. Your eyes scanned over the neon pink chalk settling on the special for the night. 

Tonight's Special: Midnight Whisper

⛦ vodka, blue curacao, grenadine, sprite, edible glitter

⛦ $11

You leaned up against the bar, studying your surroundings while you waited. Couples were dancing a little too close for comfort, there was a group of girls circling around one of their friends as she threw up in a trashcan by the dancefloor, a group of frat boys sang along to the music blasting through the club. 

As your eyes glanced at the V.I.P. area, they widened in shock. Bucky sat in the corner, surrounded by Steve and a few more men. You locked eyes with him and he raised his glass towards you, shooting you a smile. 

“What can I get for you?”

You jumped in surprise, turning to see the bartender. 

“Can I get a Midnight Whisper?”

“Of course, that’ll be $11.”

Reaching inside your purse your fingers wrapped around your wallet, pulling it out to pay. 

“I’ve got it.”, a voice said from behind you.

You looked over your shoulder seeing a man you didn’t know behind you. 

“It’s okay really.”, you said.

“No, I’ve got it sexy, a lady with a body like yours shouldn’t have to pay.”, he smirked down at you.

He handed the bartender some cash.

“Um thank you.”, you said flatly.

“No problem, smoke show, I’m Caleb, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you.”, you grumbled, not meaning it at all, but trying to be polite because he just bought you a drink. 

“Here you go girly.”, the pink haired girl slid you your cocktail.

Caleb slid his arm around your shoulders, hand lingering over your drink. You were looking at his face as he did this, trying to figure out how to get out of this situation.

Reaching for your drink, you turned away from him, “Thanks for the drink, I’ve got to get back to my friends now, they’re probably wondering where I went.”

Caleb’s hand shot out, gripping your bicep, “What do you mean you’ve got to go back to your friends? I just bought that for you, can’t you stay and at least talk to me for a bit?”

“First of all,let go of me.”, you hissed yanking your arm out of his grip, “And secondly I tried to pay for my own drink, but you insisted, I said thank you for it, but that doesn’t mean I owe you shit.”

You turned and weaved back through the crowd towards your friends. 

As you approached Nat raised an eyebrow at you.

“What’s got you in such a sour mood.”, she said, studying your visibly pissed expression. 

“Some dude bought my drink for me and acted like I owed him a conversation because of it.”, you rolled your eyes.

“I would be irritated too.”, Wanda said from beside you.

You laughed, “Anyway enough about that weirdo, guess who I just saw Nat?”

“Who?”

Grinning, you said, “That Bucky guy from work the other day!”

“Oh my God!”

“Who’s Bucky?”, Wanda asked.

You filled your friend in on the handsome man. 

“Why don’t you go ask for his number?”, Clint said, eavesdropping on your conversation.

“Because he’s in the V.I.P area, and I don’t have the balls to do it.”, you laughed out, taking a sip of your drink. 

Just then Thor appeared, having come from the dancefloor.

“Come on guys let's go dance!”, he yelled.

He grabbed your hand pulling you with him, the rest of your group following behind.

As you guys danced and drank, you began to feel weird. Your head was pounding and you were hit with a wave of nausea. 

“I don’t feel good.”, you whispered to Nat, and you rushed to the bathrooms. 

“Hey wait-”, she called after you.

You disappeared into the crowd leaving Nat behind, as you stumbled through bodies, your vision began to get blurry leaving you a disoriented mess. There was no way that one drink had done this to you.

Finally you reached the hallway in the back of the club that led to the bathrooms. You shakily leaned up against the wall, dragging yourself along the cool cinder blocks towards the ladies room. Suddenly you found yourself pushed up against the wall, your back smacking it so hard you almost felt the wind rush out of your lungs.

“Hi beautiful.”, Caleb jeered at you. 

“What-”, you slurred out, tongue feeling heavy.

He cut you off, covering your mouth with his hand, moving your lolling head back. His other hand settled on the back of your thigh, slowly creeping its way up, his fingers digging into your ass cheek. Your body was like Jell-O, you couldn’t move, leaving you defenseless. You felt tears begin to well in your eyes as you looked up at him. 

Next thing you knew Caleb was lying flat on his back a few feet away and you crumpled sliding down the wall to the ground, your legs unable to support yourself.

“What the hell man!”, Caleb screamed, a cut to the side of his head had blood cascading down his face.

“Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing.”, someone said.

You looked up at your savior, realizing it was the same man who had generously tipped you the other day. 

“Oh what so a guy can’t feel up his girlfriend anymore?”, Caleb lied.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky said looking down at you, “Is this guy your boyfriend?”

“No.”, you gurgled out.

“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about! The bitch is just drunk!”, Caleb yelled as he stood up. 

Bucky however knew that wasn’t the case. You were obviously out of it, but not from alcohol, you gave away the tell tale signs of being roofied. 

After he saw you at the bar, he had been watching you. He saw your interaction with Caleb, almost getting up after the man had grabbed you, but relaxed when he saw you could handle it on your own. However when he saw you stumbling off towards the bathrooms and Caleb stalking after you, he stood up and followed the two of you, ignoring Steve asking him where he was going. 

He had entered the hallway just as the slime ball had groped you, and without thinking, Bucky decked him in the head. In all honesty Bucky hadn’t felt this angry in a while. It pissed him off to no end, seeing Caleb taking advantage of you, the shy and sweet barista he had just met the other day. 

“Y/N, oh my God what the hell happened?”, Nat appeared at the end of the hallway. 

“This jackass drugged her.”, Bucky growled, nodding in Caleb's direction.

Nat moved towards the aforementioned jackass, but was stopped by Bucky putting his arm out.

“Let me deal with him. Get her up to the V.I.P area, let Steve know what happened.”

Nodding Nat moved down to the ground, throwing your arm around her shoulder and dragging you upwards. You stumbled as the two of you walked back down the hallway, out into the club. Looking back over your shoulder you saw Bucky nearing Caleb, rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt up. 

Hazily you remember Nat heaving you to the V.I.P section. Steve immediately recognized the pair of you from the other day, and he jumped up helping Nat carry you to one of the couches. While they did so Nat explained the situation to him. 

“Tony go get her some water.”, Steve told one of the other men that had been sitting with him. 

The dark haired man turned and headed towards the bar with urgency. 

“Y/N, Nat are you guys okay?”, you heard Clint shouting from the velvet rope sectioning off the V.I.P area from the rest of the club.

“Are those your friends?”, Steve asked looking at the group that had gathered. 

“Yeah they are.”, Nat said. 

“Hey guys let them up here.”

One of the security guards by the rope lifted it up and allowed your friends through. 

“You know that guy from earlier she said was weird? Somehow he drugged her.”, Nat said to your friends.

“Where’s he at? What's he look like? I'm going to go kick his ass.”, Thor stated, turning to head back down to the dancefloor and hunt down Caleb. 

“Someone else already beat you to it.”, Nat said pointing to Bucky who had returned from the hallway.

“Sam, Scott, can the two of you go get the mess in the hallway cleaned up?”, Bucky asked as he neared everyone. 

“Gotcha.”, Sam nodded.

“What’d you do kill him?”, Nat asked gob smacked.

“No, just taught him a lesson about keeping his hands to himself.”, he said as he picked up a cocktail napkin from one of the tables, wiping blood off his knuckles. 

Your vision started blurring again and the ringing in your ears drowned out any other sounds. The last thing you remember was Bucky looking at you worriedly before you finally passed out. 

PART THREE

I AM OPENING A TAGLIST FOR THIS STORY LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT ADDED!

[camzeecorner]

𝙲𝙷𝚁𝙸𝚂 𝚂𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙾𝙻𝙾 ₊˚ෆ𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐓 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐄

smut+angst ღ dividers → @bernardsbendystraws ฅ^._.^ฅ

Everyday was repeatedly the same. It felt like it never got better. Getting worse each day. It felt like a time loop he couldn’t be freed from. Having no way out. He dreaded being there. He hated going through it, suffering all of the pain alone. He hated waking up being himself. Wishing he could change everything. He wasn’t perfect in any way, he couldn’t change the fact that he was stuck. Wishing to be someone different. Wishing he wasn’t Chris Sturniolo.

He had no control over his life. He didn’t even have control over his own mind. Threats rung in his ears barely able to ever escape them. He could never get help. Everyone hated him. It made him miserable. He hated the fact he couldn’t just be better. No matter how hard he tried. He was a loser with no life. He had no one.

Sitting in the back of the class, chris sat silent. Trying as hard as he could to not draw any attention to himself, nibbling softly on his bruised lip as he wrote sloppily over his paper. His body shook slightly at the cold air, making it harder to focus. Lost in his deep thoughts he was interrupted by the slight noise of a cough from above. Looking up through his eyelashes his eyes landed on his teacher.

Clearing his throat he spoke. “I-im sorry.. I’ll focus now. Was just thinking about some stuff, didn’t mean to distract myself.” He spoke quickly, over sharing as usual. As he rambled he looked down at his worksheet. Seeing as he only had about half of the notes he needed he sighed. “Mr.Sturniolo I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to daydream after school. In my class you listen! I simply don’t care what it is you have going on, you pay attention.. do you hear me?” He teacher scolded him in front of his whole class. Hearing little laughs and snickers from each corner. He had humiliated himself again.

With a small ‘yes’ chris returned back to his notes, trying as hard as he could to focus. As the long minutes passed slowly, you began to pack your things ready for the lunch bell to ring. Hearing the loud chiming sound ring across the school you stood and hurriedly walked to your locker. Approaching your locker you seen your friends. It had became a common thing of meeting here after each class over the years.

“Hi guys!” You greeted them with a smile. Turning to your locker you began putting the code in, with a slight tug opening it. Placing your books in there neatly you checked your mirror making sure you still looked your very best. The last thing you ever wanted to do was be seen as ‘ordinary’. You couldn’t stand the idea of being the same as someone else. Almost gagging at the thought you shut your locker with a huff. Slinging your purse around your shoulder you began to make conversation with your friends.

“Hey!” Your friend shouted. You turned in his direction watching as he shouted from across the hall. You looked around trying to see what he was doing. Until you spotted him. Chris Sturniolo. His target everyday. You couldn’t blame him though, he was easy to get at. It didn’t bother you enough to ever correct him, it wasn’t your situation or place.

Watching as chris looked up slightly, he began walking faster trying to avoid the scene. “Hey! Fucking bitch I’m talking to you!” Your friend angrily shouted. You watched as he pushed chris, knocking him against the lockers. With a thud, chris slammed against the lockers. Wincing from the pain he sat up slowly feeling the ache in his back. Watching as your friend laughed, you rolled your eyes as a small chuckle escaping your lips.

“You think you can ignore me? Fucking freak.” Your friend angrily said. You watched as he got kicked, kneeling over clutching his stomach in pain. You saw as he had small tears forming in his eyes. Almost feeling bad you huffed looking to the side. By now a small crowd had formed around you.

Chris whimpered and cried as he got kicked over and over. Wishing for the torture to be over, he lied there. He gave up, there was no point to fight back. He knew he couldn’t win, so why try? Feeling his hair get pulled, his body came up. He had been dragged down the hall towards you, by the small tangled locks in his hair. You could see the small cuts and bruises and he was slammed down again.

“You fucking stink! Ever hear of a goddamn shower. Ugh!” Your friend pouted at him. Watching chris you felt bad for the first time. It never occurred to you before how mean people really were until now. The beatings never lasted long. It was just a casual game of toss between the two. Or more so with one.

You watched as the crowd slowly walked away, phones in hand recording. Hearing all of their laughter your gut felt weak. You almost wanted to cry. You couldn’t leave him here.

Chris sat in his own blood and tears. He had snot running down his chin as he wiped it with the back of his sleeve. You debated on helping him. I mean you wouldn’t want anyone to leave you, so it was only the right thing.

Crouching down you tapped his shoulder. He looked at you with a swollen lip. His eye had bruised into a dark purple, patches of his hair lay beside him. You could swear this was attempted murder. You frown at him as you sucked in a breath.

“Hey.. I’m sorry about him.” You began. You didn’t really know what you wanted to say, but you couldn’t stay silent anymore. Each day ate you away, you didn’t want to not help him. But what would people think if they say you with a person like him?

Chris cried silently as he gathered his items placing them back into his bag. He stood silently and began to walk off, leaving you and your discomforting words behind.

The next day chris arrived to school, he’d taken all the back hallways in hopes of avoiding everyone. He sat peacefully in the 3rd stall of the bathroom. Eating his lunch silently as he played with the small Lego figures he had in his pockets. Laughing with himself, he felt a small smile form on his face.

He was enjoying the quietness when he had been interrupted with a loud bang. Jumping slightly he panicked putting away all of his things, flushing his food. He pulled his feet up to his chest in hopes of hiding himself. “Come out freak we know you’re in here.” He heard the voice laugh. Looking down Chris gulped, scared of what he’d deal with today.

His breath was held in hopes to be as silent as he could. Feeling the pressure get to himself, he let out a sigh. “Found ya” he heard. He looked above as he saw the familiar face . Without another second he was covered in garbage. They laughed as they dumped garbage over him, remembering how it was weeks old from the kitchen. Spoiled milk stained his clothes as chunks of old food fell off of him.

Hearing cheering and laughter erupt, the bathroom door opened and closed. He waiting a few moments before bursting in tears. He cried and cried until he couldn’t. Feeling the pain overwhelming him. He struggled to breathe as he choked on his own sobs. Feeling the hot tears run down his face.

He burried his face in his hands as he tried to dry his face. Walking to the sink he grabbed multiple rolls of paper towels in hopes of removing as much trash as he could. Finishing he flushed the last of the towels and grabbed his bag. Leaving the bathroom his shoes squeaked as he walked on the hard tiles. He slid slighty, nearly falling. He sighed again and began to move more gently. He walked wherever he feet took him.

Minutes later he found himself standing in front of the door of his own home. Looking down he stared at the pavement. Just watching. He wishes he could have a day of freedom, he really does. Bringing his hand up he slowly turned the key unlocking the door. Pushing the big door open he walked in, being met with the silence.

It had been hours since chris came home. All he could do was lay hopelessly in his bed. Recounting the moments from his life. He’s never been so sad to the point where it got like this. Was it worth it? Will it ever get better? He thought long and hard, thinking as deep as he could. What could he do differently, he wanted nothing more but to fit in. Feeling the tears prickle his eyes he sniffed and ran a hand across his face.

With a soft knock at his door he turned around slowly. Staring at the wooden door, he pushed himself up. Walking painfully slow he reached the door opening it slightly. Being met with none other than his brother.

Of course his brothers didn’t know about his situation, that’s how he liked it. They were older, and they went to college. They had a future, a chance. He wanted nothing but to be perfect like them. They never would have to live through the hell he put up with everyday.

With a small smile Chris looked around, avoiding his gaze. He wasn’t sure if he had been crying hard enough to leave marks, so he better play it safe. “Hey..” he muttered lightly. Matt nodded, signaling a small gesture back. Clearing his throat his began speaking, “hey uh.. you okay? You seem really tired lately.” He asked sincerely.

‘No, Matt. I’m not okay. I’m not even close to being okay. Everyday I go through hell and torture, and I can’t escape it. It’s a long continuous fucking loop and I’m stuck. I can’t get out and I wanna scream. Oh my god all I want to do, is scream. But I can’t, and I don’t know if it’ll ever stop. I just want someone to listen to me and be there. Someone who wont beat me and spit on me. Someone to tell me it’s okay, and hold me tight. I’m so tired and limp I don’t know what to do with myself. Everyday I wake up with this hatred for myself wishing things could be different like I-I can change everything. But I can’t, and I’ll never be able to. So no Matt.. I’m not okay.’

Is all Chris wanted wanted to say. But if he admitted that out loud, it’d make him even more pathetic. With a small exhale chris nodded. “Yea I’m good. Just school, schoolwork is kicking my ass right now.” He lied. He let out a breathy laugh and he bit down on his lip. Matt chuckled lightly, nodding his head in agreement.

“Dude I feel you..” Matt spoke, patting chris on the shoulder in a jokingly way. “But uh hey I came up to say someone’s waiting for you. A classmate I think?” He stated in a confused tone. He pointed behind him as chris followed his direction towards the door. Chris gulped and thanked him. He shut the door walking down the stairs.

Who could be here? Hesitation washed over chris as he reached the bottom step. As he inhaled a sharpe breath he closed his eyes. As his hand reached out for the door he slowly pulled it opened.

“Hi” he heard. He opened his eyes slowly, seeing the girl standing in front of him. She was dressed in loungewear, the type you’d wear around your family or to bed. She had her hair brushed back in bun. He watched as she rocked on her heels. He blinked at her as she stood in front of him. Why the hell was she here?

“You’re probably confused why I’m here..” she chuckled softly. As she ran her hands down her sides as she fixed her sweater slightly. She had a small smile plastered on her face, looking off to the side. With a small nod from chris she laughed nervously. “Well.. you weren’t in school today, teacher asked me to bring you your assignments.” She stated with a small voice.

“Thanks” chris said blankly. She handed him the assignments, tucked neatly under her arm. As he took them from her he glanced over her face, just looking. As he began to turn away shutting the door she put her hand out stopping him.

“Wait!” She shouted. With quick movements Chris opened the door slightly, seeing her flushed face. “I was thinking, maybe we could study together. I mean I’m already here and I’d love to help you catch up.” She offered. She had a warm smile, always in pure bliss.

“You don’t have to do that.” Chris turned down. He nibbled on his lip slightly growing nervous under her trance. She shook her head slightly and smiled again. “No it’s fine I promise! I don’t mind.” She admitted.

With a second guess chris decided to go with it. After all he really did need the help. And he didn’t necessarily see you to be the type to fight, so he felt safe in this moment. Stepping to the side he led you in. Following him up the stairs, you admired all the wall paintings. Running your fingers over each one letting your fingertips dance and glimpse over the cold railing.

Chris turned his head slowly as he looked at her over his shoulder. Feeling his mouth go dry he swallowed. “Uhm.. we can study in here.” He spoke softly. No matter how hard it was for him to stay calm, he did a damn good job of not showing it.

You followed after him into his bedroom. It was an average room, a fairly big bed with a dresser across the room. He had posters on his wall, with small display cases lined against his wall. Besides the small piles of clothes on the floor his room was rather clean. It felt comfortable.

As you sat on his bed beside him you looked at him, admiring the beauty. You found beauty in everyone, everyone was so different it was unique.

As you both studied together, it became obvious that he was tired. Feeling bad you began to pack your bag silently. As you gathered all of your items you straightened out your clothes and stood.

“You’re leaving?” Chris asked softly. You stood in front of him for a moment, debating whether you really did want to leave. “Uhm, well you just looked a little tired.” You said softly. He looked to the side as he scratched the back of his neck softly. He began to tug at the small strands of hair. Growing nervous he bit down on his lip, a habit he’d grown.

“M’not tired.” He said plainly. He looked in your eyes almost pleading you to stay. It had been years since someone visited chris. He missed the comfort of company, the rush of joy he felt was unbelievable. Smiling softly you sat back beside him.

“Did you want to continue studying? Or we can just talk, doesn’t matter.” You said. You were so soft spoken, it was a mystery to Chris why you chose to surround yourself with people he found so evil.

“Uhm we can.. talk? I guess.” He asked hesitantly. You nodded at him. You looked down trying to think of something to converse about. “So uhm, how have you been?” He asked. You looked up, a small smile playing on your face. “I’ve been really good. Schools kinda stressful right now with all the work we’re getting.” You admitted. He nodded in agreement. “Yea.. school is hard.” He said lowly. You gulped as you recalled all the moments where he was bullied. Feeling bad, you bit your tongue.

“Hey.. I’m really sorry about them.” You said. Your voice cracked slightly as you fought back tears. You just felt so bad, you had been so silent. You could’ve helped him. Instead you watched it happen, everyday. And it killed you. He looked away, taken aback by the sudden shift. He huffed out, shutting his eyes briefly. “It’s fine, it’s not your fault.”

“I’d love to be your friend.” You replied nicely. You smiled at him, your cheeks forming into a rosy color. He watched as you fiddled with your thumbs. “You would?” He asked in disbelief. You nodded at him eagerly, a small giggle coming out. He smiled softly at you.

He felt more relaxed as the hours ticked by. His room could be heard of small giggles and loud words. You grew comfortable with chris the more you stayed. Not wanting to go home, you both planned a small sleepover. You’d both skip school tomorrow and spend the day together. You’d wanted to know chris. The real him.

You couldn’t lie to yourself and say chris wasn’t an attractive guy, because he really was. He had perfect teeth, a smile that could light up a room. He had beautiful blue eyes, they were so inviting. His perfectly natural hair. You weren’t sure what everyone else saw, but all you could see was the beauty in him.

“You’re cute, you know that?” You giggled. You tossed your head back laying down on the soft mattress. Turning your head you watched as he laughed softly, picking at his bottom lip with his teeth. His face grew red as he looked down. He shook his head slightly at you. “No im not, are you high?” You bursted into laughter at his comment. Bringing your hands to your face wiping the small tears as you laughed harder. “No no! I’m serious.” You stared at him.

“Come, lay down.” You patted the spot next to you. Watching as he moved upwards slightly, he lied down next to you. You both lay there, looking in each others eyes. You softly reached out tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. Smiling softly you ran your fingers over his cheek.

“I mean it Chris. You really are beautiful.” You spoke softly. Chris nervously smiled, taking in your words. Leaning his face into your palm he smiled. “Thank you. You’re really pretty.” You smiled, flashing your teeth at him.

You pulled your face closer to his, hovering your lips just above his. Inhaling his scent, it was almost intoxicating. Pulling him close, he felt his lips come in contact with yours. He melted at the soft touch. Pulling away slightly you ran your tongue over your lips.

Kissing him once more you cradled his face, now rolling to your side. You both shared a kiss that you’d both remember forever. The world stopped for a second, it was just you. Nothing else mattered.

You softly ran your tongue over his lips, feeling the peeling skin as he’d bitten at them so much. You felt his mouth open slightly you found your tongues tangled together. Moaning softly in his mouth, you slowly began to grind your hips into his.

As your lips fought together, you became more addicted to his taste. Pulling away slighty you trailed your fingers over his skin. Running your hand down his chest, you slightly pulled his shirt up. Running your fingertips across his bare skin, he sucked in a breath.

As you kissed along his neck he let out small whimpers, by now his cock had slightly hardened. It became harder to contain his noises as he sucked a breath in. Slowly you pulled your face back to his kissing his lips once again.

Slowly you began to climb on top of him, straddling his body. You felt as he ran his hands over your body feeling everything he could. You kissed him deeply inhaling his scent. You moaned in his mouth feeling your body push down. You slowly began to rock your hips, dry humping him.

You felt as his now fully erected cock pushed into your body, hitting your wet core. “Mmhm” you moaned slightly feeling the pleasure hit you. You peppered kisses along his jaw, trailing them down . You kissed each inch of his skin. Showing chris the love he deserved, you smiled at him.

“You’re so perfect.” You spoke in a low voice. Chris watched as you climb farther down, leaving a trail of wet kisses. As you reached his pants you looked up.

“Can I take these off?” You asked lowly. You bit your lip in anticipation, wanting nothing more but to give him pleasure. With a slight nod he gave you permission. “Yes”

As you slid his pants down, he kicked them off as they landed on the floor. Your hands slowly came up as you reached him. Slowly you gently pressed your palm against his cock, pushing down slightly as you ran your hand in an upwards motion.

Chris moaned at the contact as he slowly threw his head back. As you looked up to watch his reaction, you saw as his jaw hung slack as small moans escaped. Smiling at him, you slowly placed small kisses to his clothed cock.

Bringing your hands up your tucked you fingers in the waistband of his boxers. As chris watched you, he slowly saw as you tugged his boxers off slowly. Teasing him you stopped. You smiled at him, as you placed one kiss directly above his cock. You watched as he twitched feeling his body heat up.

Slowly you tugged his boxers down throwing them to the floor. Chris now grew nervous as he looked away. As you look down you stared in awe at his body. He was truly so breathtaking. “So beautiful..” you whispered.

Slowly bringing your hands up, you gently grabbed his cock wrapping your small hands around him. He was an average size, and he was neatly shaved. For a guy who looks like he wouldn’t have the best hygiene he was kept clean and smelled nice.

As your hands lingered on him he whimpered. He watched as you admired him, feeling loved. As precum dropped from his tip you slowly wiped it with your finger, using it as lube. Slowly beginning to jerk him, he lost himself in the feeling. Slowly his breaths grew heavier. Watching as you jerked him slowly he moaned loudly, the feeling too good.

As you tugged at him more it became harder to compose himself. Feeling his body twitch under your touch, his stomach caved in. As he felt hit stomach tighten his body grew stiff. Watching as ropes of white cum flew from him. He moaned, sighing slightly. He had small drops of sweat that made his hair stick to his forehead. As he huffed, his chest rose and fell rapidly.

Slowly you licked the remains of his fluids, tasting the sweet and salty mixture. You hummed at the taste as you licked every drop clean. Pulling yourself upwards you peeling your clothes from your body. Discarding them to the floor you returned to your original position.

As you laid beside chris, he pulled your body closer closing the small gap between you. Feeling his cock slowly push into you, you moaned. Letting out small babbles of incoherent words, you held onto his shoulder steadying yourself.

As your body laid beside him you slowly began to move your body, feeling his cock push into you further. As you let out small moans, he cradled your body. Pulling you closer he slowly rocked his hip, pushing himself in and out of you. Feeling your walls squeeze him.

He moaned softly against your neck, feeling his body sink further into yours. “Oh chris..” your words sending pleasure straight to his cock. You praised him though his movements, pushing him over the edge.

Feeling your walls clench around him you sucked in a breath. Feeling your gut turn your eyes rolled back. Lost in the feeling you felt yourself choke on the air, crying from the pleasure. 

With a couple more final thrust, you felt your stomach tighten and release. Watching as you painted his cock white he followed soon after. Pulling out of you, he came on your stomach. Moaning together you both looked at your mess, feeling happier than ever.

As you lay beside each other, you share another kiss. Pulling away you face grew hot. “I can’t believe we just did that..” chris spoke lowly. He was in pure shock. He never thought he’d lose his virginity to you. “I’m happy we did.” Your voice beamed. You smile at him, pulling his body as close as you could.

Grabbing a cloth Chris wiped your messes, leaving your body clean. As he sunk back into his bed he sighed letting out a breathy laugh. “Thank you.” He mumbled. You gently pressed your head to his chest as your eyes shut softly.

As you laid in bed your bodies tucked under the blankets, you cuddled your body into his. Savoring the warmth and love. You both felt the comfort that you had always wanted.

Tag list - @shaquilles-0atmeal @monroesturnns @blahbel668 @mattssluttywaist @jetaimevous @kayeeaa @ribread03 @meatballlover10 @mattslolita @sophand4n4 @riasturns @nickysturnss

[speed-world]

Hello!! If it's not too much to ask, can you write a cookie run kingdom au where y/n is a traveler? I just think that's the most logical way to somehow get them involved into stories and meet different cookies altogether. Maybe a few scenarios in which involve their encounters with the ancients before the main plot of crk?

A cookie stood with his sheep, observing the lands before him in silence as the winds howled and blew beside him. He was making his last few preparations before his journey, but as he turned around, he saw an unfamiliar face that appeared to be in awe of the lands much like he was…

“Oh, pardon me, but I’ve never seen a cookie like you before. You look so incredibly well and unbothered, may I ask if you have a secret to keeping your dough so healthy?”

“Oh, me? Hehe, I don’t think I have any ‘secret’ to my healthy or anything like that. I’m simply a traveler wandering Earthbread.”

“Really? So am I! I’ll be taking a pilgrimage to the Sugar-Free Road, and complete its 12 trials. What about you, where are you headed?”

“Wherever the earth and winds take me, I suppose. I don’t have a destination in mind, per se, but I’m so interested in exploring the marvelous depths across every corner of Earthbread! But, if you don’t mind me asking, what makes you want to venture to the Sugar-Free Road alone? Surely those trials can’t be the only reason.”

“You sound like you’ve been there before, is there something I should be aware of before I go?”

“Yeah, maybe don’t go by yourself. It’s a treacherous path that’ll leave you wishing you never went. I myself turned back when I was there because of how worn out I was. I would want to go back sometime, especially since I feel more accustomed to traveling to do so, but doing so alone is not something I’m doing again.”

“I see…well to answer your question, I strive to find the truth as to why cookies - those crumbling, incomplete, and not-so-sweet - all must suffer so. I wish for all beings of dough to be happy, and that is I will accept those trials. Hopefully I’ll find the answers I’m looking for at the end of the path.”

“That’s…that’s actually really nice! I respect that a lot, and I kinda feel the same way; wanting everyone to not suffer. But you won’t do well by yourself, would you mind if I tag along?”

“Really? Are you sure my goals won’t get in the way of yours?”

“Nah, of course not! You get to complete the trials and, hopefully, find your answers, while I get to see everything of the Sugar-Free Road and document it! Plus, I get to make a new friend too!”

“New friend..? Ahaha, I’m honored to call you friend too! My name is Pure Vanilla Cookie, and you are?”

“Y/N Cookie, a pleasure to meet ya Pure Vanilla Cookie!”

“Likewise, Y/N Cookie. I’m glad we’ll take this journey together!”

————————————————————————

The screeching roar of a dragon fills the air as it gradually got more distant. The dragon’s pursuer was aggravated, but still determined…

“Huff…huff…darn that dragon getting away, again!! I think I’m starting to loose count, is this the 80th time? No, it can’t have been that much…..argghh—! No matter, I’ll keep hunting it down and—!”

The bushes ahead of Hollyberry Cookie rustle as an astonished cookie stepped out, and looked to the sky where the dragon flew off. They were completely in awe and wanted to get a better look at the majestic creature.

“Woah!! Was that a dragon just now? I’ve seen glimpses of them on my travels, but that one was so close!! This could be a chance to really meet a dragon, maybe even feel its scales!! Hahaha, I gotta go now and—“

“Hey, hold it right there!”

“Huh? Oh, hey there! Are you after the dragon too?”

“That’s one way to put it; I’m hunting that dragon. I need to defeat it for the trouble its caused the Hollyberry Kingdom!”

“Oh my, I had no idea. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s quite alright, that dragon won’t escape me so easily! But, what brings you out here? And why do you want to see that dragon?”

“Ah, well I’m a traveler, you see? I want to explore every neat corner of Earthbread and all the specialties in between!”

“Really now? Interesting, it’s been awhile since I’ve met such an adventurous cookie like myself! I’m Hollyberry Cookie, pleased to meet you friend!”

“Y/N Cookie, the pleasure is all mine Hollyberry Cookie!”

“Well Y/N Cookie, what do you say we go hunting this dragon together? It’s always more fun to travel with a partner, and I’ll promise you to see every bit of the dragon up close!”

“For real?! Awesome!! Ohohoho, this is gonna be fun, I can’t wait to go!”

“Why don’t you tell me about your travels on the way? I’ll, of course, share you many of my own! I’ll even treat you to the finest berry juice my kingdom has to offer when it’s over!”

“Why thank you! I’ve never had berry juice from the Hollyberry Kingdom before, I can’t wait!!”

“It will be the finest you’ve ever had, you wouldn’t want any other! This is already becoming a fine adventure, hahaha!!”

————————————————————————

Black lightning and dark clouds...What's next, a blizzard that freezes your very breath? The scale of the anomalies is growing. The Cookies in the Frozen Snowfield are perishing one by one. While it seems logical for any cookie to avoid venturing out to such an extreme treacherous environment, two cookies were individually hiking up anyways. Although for their own reasons, their ambitions may align with one another’s….

“Hmm? Oh hey there, I wasn’t expecting any company here!”

“Neither was I…are you a cookie from one of villages affected by the blizzards?”

“Me? Oh no, I’m just a traveler passing by to witness something spectacular!! Here, listen closely—“

“Grrrrrr…..”

“Hhrrrrrraaaaaahh…..”

“The growls of not one, but two dragons-in one place!! I wonder what it is here that could’ve brought them here; ooohh I’ve got to see them up close!”

“You’re here for…sightseeing dragons? How strange.”

“You sound disappointed, is everything alright bud?”

“No. I am here to know more of the weather anomalies occurring through this continent. This harsh weather has caused cookies to suffer and crumble, and I refuse to let it endure another minute.”

“Oh my, I had no idea that was happening. I’m so sorry…”

“Pick your head up, you have nothing to apologize for.”

“Ah, r-right. *ahem*…let me help you.”

“What? No, I’m afraid I can’t. These cookies have suffered for too long, and I can’t risk another getting in the way and—“

“I promise I won’t get in your way. I’ll help aid those cookies with you; I have plenty of supplies to offer some kind of help, be it food or water or anything in between.”

“Hmm…very well then. I believe our interests might be more in common than I realize. Let’s not waste any more time and be on our way.”

“Of course! I’m Y/N Cookie, by the way, pleasure to meet you sir.”

“Dark Cacao Cookie, don’t mention it. Let us do our absolute best for the cookies!”

————————————————————————

Under the intense, near-intolerable heat of the desert sun, two cookies traverse the sands bearing wide smiles of determination. Both hold their own greedy ambitions, yet aren’t driven apart by each other’s desires.

“Hah, you know, I’m still amazed as to why you’re traveling with me to the old ruins. I was wandering the desert to find this marvelous treasure, but you just want to look at them, document them, and that’s it! Why go through such risks if all you want to do is go sight seeing?”

“Hehe, well I guess you could say that’s the treasure I’m hunting for. To see all the wonders of Earthbread, its beauties in its dangers, the uniqueness of every continent, I want to capture all of it and learn everything about it! Plus, it’s super fun to meet all kinds of desserts along the way, especially one as dynamic as you!”

“So interesting, you almost make me want to share the treasure I find with you; almost, of course.”

“I don’t blame you, heh. You wandered all this way for it, it’s only fair that it all belongs to you.”

“Right? I would’ve heard if someone on Earthbread had laid their hands on it first. But then again…I want to show my gratitude for your help. This journey would’ve been boring and perhaps fruitless if not for you; what is your name?”

“Y/N Cookie, a pleasure!”

“Y/N Cookie, I am Golden Cheese Cookie. I shall never forget all you’ve done for me! Your greed for the world is something to admire for eons; nearly as great as my greed for my treasure. You and I together shall be legendary!”

————————————————————————

Somewhere, in a secluded area relatively distant from the nearest cookie civilization, a lone cookie was weeping as she was suffering from a nightmare. A passerby cookie heard her cries, and wanted to know what troubled her so…

“E-Excuse me, hello? Are you okay ma’am?”

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I… Oh…it was that same dream again. I’m sorry, I didn’t know another cookie was here…”

“No no, it’s alright, you didn’t bother me. I was just traveling by, venturing out to find some incredible things about Earthbread!”

“You were…traveling? Just freely and…eagerly going about across Earthbread alone? …..why?”

“Ehehe, I suppose why not? There’s so many incredible marvels about this world that I wanna see and experience for myself! There’s just so many things and secrets that I want to know about, how could I not be eager to see it all, ahaha!”

“….s-so carefree and curious…they’re just—“

“Hmm, you say something?”

“N-no, I was just muttering to myself…”

“….Hey, you hungry?”

“What? How’d you…—“

“You have crumbs falling from your hands, how long have you been without something to eat?”

“I…I do not know. I suppose it’s been a while since I’ve eaten something. Maybe I’m getting too lost in my thoughts…”

You pulled out a lot of food from your bags and laid it out in front of the cookie.

“T-that’s so much food! Shouldn’t you keep some for yourself if you’re traveling?”

“I got plenty more, don’t you worry. But if you were here resting from traveling, then it looks like you weren’t fully prepared. Is there any reason why you’re traveling out here?”

“Yes…I want to know the truth.”

“….the truth about, what?”

“Why were we, the cookies, created? Why were we brought into this world? Why were we created so small and fragile? If only all cookies were born strong, unbreakable. If only then…I…”

“Shhh, calm down, alright? Take a break for now, eat up. You can tell me more when we’re back out on the road.”

“I-we?! What do you mean, ‘we?’ I’d get in your way with whatever it is you’re after.”

“I’m not after anything in particular, remember? I wanna traverse and see all of Earthbread, and from the sounds of what answers you’re after, it seems like we may be going down similar paths.”

“….Perhaps you’re right. Okay then, I’ll go with you, to find the answers I’m seeking. …Who are you, exactly…?”

“I’m Y/N Cookie!”

“I’m White Lily Cookie. I’m…thankful for you, Y/N Cookie. I never thought I’d have anyone to help me with this, I figured I’d just burden someone else with my struggles…”

“Don’t mention it, I’m perfectly fine with it! No one should really be alone for a long journey; especially for the one you want to take. I’m more than happy to go with you, White Lily Cookie.”

“Thank you, Y/N Cookie…I will never forget your kindness.”

[ditzydoe444]

Bunny reader with Dick!? I think it would be so cute, reader being the sweetest thing gifted to Dick, and dick treating them like they wished to be !!

MDNI 18+

soft! dick grayson x bunny! reader

smutty

soft! dick x bunny!reader

dick would spoil you rotten. whatever you want, you will get, anything you touched at the store or briefly mentioned somehow will always end up in your hands. you were just the sweetest thing to ever appear in his life, how could he not spoil you? the way your eyes would light up, and how you jumped like a small bunny when you got your gifts was like heaven for him. he would pay for all your needs, hair appointments, clothes, nails, etc. he knew you cared about your looks, how you always wanted to have the perfect appearance, and how could he refrain you from doing that? because as a result, he got a cute little doll that was all pampered.

soft! dick x bunny!reader

dick would be so gentle and soft with you, always giving you forehead kisses just because he loves the way a faint dust of pink would appear on your cheeks, and how your nose will do the cutest scrunch. he would always be touching you, small gentle affectionate touches. these would include adjusting stray parts of your hair, straightening your tiny dresses, or gently caressing your shoulder. he knew you loved physical touch, and god he loved touching you, not just in the passionate intimate moments, but the small innocent ones. there was just something about you that made it impossible for him to keep his hands off you. whenever you would cook, he would have his arms around your waist, and you fitting snuggly against his broad chest whilst he gave you soft kisses on your shoulders.

soft! dick x bunny!reader

when going out drinking with his friends he would always check in on you, making sure you were doing ok. his hands were never far from your body, his strong arms wrapped around your waist. he would never make you stay longer than needed and was always ready to leave when you wanted. he would often tease you with how easily you got tipsy, he couldn’t resist poking your small red cheeks of yours. “don’t tell me you are already drunk now, bun,” dick teases. there was something about you being tipsy that was so endearing, the way you would shake your head insisting you weren’t drunk and how you would cling to him like a lost puppy when walking back to his truck.

soft! dick x bunny!reader

when going on dates he would go all out, he would always make the moments intimate and special with just the two of you. he would bring you your favourite bouquet of flowers, and take you to a small intimate restaurant. his hand would always gently rub the back of yours from across the table, and would listen to whatever you were rambling about. even though you had a habit of talking about literally everything, he would always pay attention, asking questions and making small comments to show that he cared.

soft! dick x bunny!reader

in bed he treated you like a princess, worshipping every inch of your body. he would give you soft kisses, whispering praises and how well you were doing taking him all in. “you’re doing great bun, just a few more inches yeah?” he made sure you were always the one coming first, giving you a minimum of two orgasms before letting himself come.

when you would ride him, he would hold on to your hips, whilst thrusting himself upwards to reduce your workload. “i’ve got you bun,” he reassured gently, he knew it wasn’t exactly your favourite position, but you knew that he loved watching you bounce on his cock. “you’re like my own little bunny,” he commented, the way you bounced on his cock eagerly was all too much, and how you would let out the most sinful moans were enough to make him fill your tight little cunt up.

but you giving him blowjobs was his favourite thing on the whole planet. the way you eagerly took him in your wet mouth whilst being on your knees staring at him through your lashes was too much. the way your hands couldn’t even encircle his whole cock made his mind go all fuzzy. he told himself to be gentle, to refrain from acting on his own desires, but god it took every ounce of self-control to not use your mouth as a fleshlight. usually, he would come in your mouth, gently fucking it to see his cum and your saliva mix and dribble down your chin. but the moment you suggested on coming in your face? god he nearly self-imploded. seeing how his cum coated your face and lashes was a goddamn sight, how you would give him the cheesiest smile with your eyes shut, due to his cum gluing your lashes down.

and of course he would reward you by eating you out, making you his favourite dessert.

[heesterical]

"My friend here thinks you're cute!" - Jaemin.

Pairing: Jaemin x F!Reader.

Synopsis: You're not sure that accepting(?) Donghyuck's idea of wingmanning was a good decision, since he's about as subtle as a rock, but at least it was… effective.

Genres: Fluff. Comedy (there was an attempt.)

Wc: 1k.

“Don’t turn immediately, but there’s a guy in a black t-shirt near the water cans behind you. That’s him.” You say softly, glancing over Donghyuck’s shoulder. 

Said guy was hunched over a pile of donated supplies, neatly sorting bags of pet food into the labeled bins. Even from a distance, you could tell he was focused, his brows slightly furrowed, the short sleeves of his shirt revealing his forearms as he worked.

Donghyuck, being Donghyuck, immediately turned around, not even trying to be subtle.

“Donghyuck!” you hiss, grabbing at his arm, but it’s too late. He’s already full-on staring.

“Huh. Nice arms,” he observes, nodding approvingly before turning back to you with a smirk. “You’ve got taste, I’ll give you that.”

You roll your eyes, cheeks heating up. “Shut up. I told you not to make it obvious!”

“And you promised you wouldn’t be a chicken. Yet here we are,” he counters, putting the flyers down in a neat pile on the table. “You’ve been pining over him for weeks, Y/n. It’s tragic. Let me help you.”

“I’ve not been pining over him! I just… think it’s cute how he always greets the dogs with that big smile,” you mutter, trying to sound casual as you adjust the paperwork and flyers on the table. “Even when he looks dead tired, he still sits with them and talks about his day like they’re his best friends.”

Donghyuck stares at you, wide-eyed. “Oh my god, you’re hopeless. That’s even worse than I thought.”

“Shut up!” you hiss at his annoyingly loud accusations. You duck your head, trying to hide the embarrassed blush creeping up your neck. “It’s not like that. I just… admire how he’s so kind to the dogs. He’s just—”

“Adorable? Sweet? Husband material?" Donghyuck finishes for you, grinning like the devil he is.

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Why do I tell you anything?”

“Because you need me,” he says dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “And because if you don’t make a move, I will.”

“You wouldn’t,” you warn, your eyes narrowing.

“Wouldn’t I?” he challenges, already standing straighter, his eyes glinting with mischief. Your stomach flips and you know that it spells trouble. 

“Hyuck, don’t—”

Too late. He’s cupped his hands around his mouth and is already calling out, “Hey!”

Oh god.

"What do you think you're doing-!" 

"Hey, you! Black t-shirt!" 

"Donghyuck, shut the fuck up-" 

He looks up immediately, pointing at himself when he sees that Donghyuck was staring right at him.

“Yes, you! Jaemin, right? My friend here thinks you’re cute!” Donghyuck shouts - even though he’s already got the attention of both Jaemin, and every single person in the vicinity.

You wonder if it is too late to drown Donghyuck in a bathtub and escape to another city. 

For a moment, Jaemin just looks at you, then at Donghyuck, and back at you. Finally, to your horror, he smiles, getting up and brushing his hands off on his jeans. He starts walking towards you, and your panic only grows.

“Oh my god, Hyuck, I’m going to kill you,” you mutter through gritted teeth, desperately wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

“Relax,” Donghyuck says, patting your shoulder with zero remorse. “This is your big moment. Don’t blow it.”

“I hate you so much.”

Jaemin reaches you in just a few strides, his smile easy and warm. “Hi,” he says smoothly. His eyes linger on yours for a moment before darting to the guy next to you. “You must be the world’s loudest wingman.”

Donghyuck grins, unbothered. “I prefer ‘effective.’” He gestures toward you with exaggerated flair. “And here’s my very cute, very single friend.”

You press your lips into a tight line, feeling the heat of several stares on you. You shift awkwardly on your feet, suddenly aware of how much attention the three of you were drawing from the people around you. 

Your cheeks flare with a fresh wave of embarrassment. You try to subtly adjust your posture, but it only makes things worse — and now you’re hyper-aware of every tiny movement. 

Jaemin chuckles softly, his gaze returning to you. “So... is it true?” he asks, tilting his head slightly. “You think I’m cute?” 

You glance up at him. “I—uh—” 

“She does!” Donghyuck pipes in before you can even form a coherent sentence. “She’s been admiring you for weeks. It’s kind of pathetic, honestly.”

You elbow him in the ribs. 

Jaemin, however, doesn’t seem weirded out. 

“Weeks, you say?” he repeats, his voice light, and you can hear the playful edge to it. He sounds amused, and maybe, just maybe, a little flattered.

You bite your lip, a nervous laugh escaping you. “It’s not like that,” you try to salvage whatever is left of your dignity.

Jaemin’s smile grows, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, I think you’re cute too,” he says easily, his tone light but sincere.

You stare at him, your brain short-circuiting. “You... what?”

“I’ve noticed you around,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “Was wondering why you kept glancing over.”

Perhaps drowning Hyuck in the bathtub wouldn’t be nearly enough.

“I… wasn’t staring at you. I swear. Just, you know, the dogs are adorable.” You say, attempting to salvage whatever was left of your dignity.

“Really?” Jaemin sighs, pretending to be disappointed. “I was hoping it was me you were looking at.”

Oh?

You raise an eyebrow, a bit of confidence creeping in despite the blush still covering your cheeks. “Oh, so you don’t mind if it was you I was looking at?” you tease, a sly grin tugging at your lips.

Jaemin's smile widens. “Not at all,” he shrugs. “In fact, I think I’d prefer it.”

Donghyuck gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. “Oh my god, this is better than a K-drama.”

You ignore him, focusing on Jaemin, who looks at you like he’s genuinely glad this is happening. “So,” he continues, a hint of nervousness creeping into his voice. “Can I get your number?”

You can have anything you want from me, Jaemin....

NCT Masterlist.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Meeting at the snack machine

Simon Kalivoda x fem!reader (nurse)

warning : fluff, kiss, mutual feelings, implied past relationship

Summary : What was for them a normal night shift at the Shadyville hospital was for Simon and his friends a nightmare that had just begun. A nightmare that seemed to have arisen from the town's past and that, by pure chance, brought Simon to a person he hadn't seen in a long time, but the shared memory was all the stronger.

info : I knew I had to write for Fred again and the stories for Simon are far from over. I wish you lots of fun ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The evening began as usual with her alarm clock which seemed too shrill and too loud, a yawn and a tired look later she was standing in the bathroom under the shower trying to keep her eyes open.

A quick breakfast in the evening and less than two hours later she was in her blue uniform in the nurse's room, stowing her things in her locker before setting off for her shift.

It was the same every day, every week and every month, getting up, eating breakfast and trying not to fall asleep on the way to the hospital before she started her shift, taking turns with her tired colleagues who were glad to get home.

,,Have a good shift!” she heard the goodbyes of her colleagues before she took the clipboards and went through the individual complaints and requests of the patients.

Whether it was refilling water, emptying a bag or washing hair after there was food inside, there was always variety and even though she had vowed to get out of the city, this feeling of helping and doing something good for others was somehow addictive, especially here.

Addiction was a word that meant a lot in her job and her freedom, gone were the weekends and weeks when she had gotten a little too drunk, taken a few pills and worried about nothing in the world.

Now here the only dependency was the money she got from this job, ,,And only for another forty years,” she muttered as she stepped out of the hallway and decided to just check the medicine cabinet.

Although her tiredness was gone, the toast with jam and the few pieces of fruit made themselves heard a few hours into her shift, a growl that was audible to others but was unmistakable to her.

Especially in Shadyside the later it seemed to get the less interesting the town seemed to become, especially from the other side you could hear the partying and the loud music of festivals something the inhabitants here could only dream of.

Festivals and concerts here in the city would probably lead to a fire and a storm, which is why people were rather glad that everything was quiet and still and that there were no accidents and murders, which were not only bad enough but also turned the otherwise uneventful hospital into a crowd of onlookers.

Sighing to herself, she just said, ,,Maybe there's a banana in the hall” and decided to go to the front of the floor where the reception area was located and she found one of her colleagues and coworkers looking just as bored and tired as she was.

The night shift was the shift where no one called in despite the little extra pay, it was like being a ghost in Shadyside it was so dead quiet.

The morning and midday shifts were busier, more people came in and there was even a sense of hope, which was helped by seeing the sun instead of the moon whenever you looked outside.

The same brief smile was exchanged between them and a ,,Thank you lifesaver” came from her as she was handed the yellow fruit and opened it, so it seemed like it was going to be another uneventful shift...what she didn't know though was as she disappeared back to her floor, footsteps and more importantly screams approached the hospital.

A small group in the middle of which was someone who had the same hunger as her and whose circumstances were slightly different from hers, but both would meet again sooner than they thought.

The papers and folders had priority but when the phone rang at her station she picked it up, ,,Emergency room on the line, what's up?” she asked and heard her colleague on the other end, ,,A couple of kids just showed up, could you pick up some bandages but could also be a Halloween prank” and hung up again.

A sigh came over her lips as she walked a step faster and rummaged through the cupboards and drawers for the utensils, there had been many times in the last few years and especially weeks and months since the incident in the mall the teenagers seemed to be particularly amused and play such false alarms.

If not she could at least do her job and get some variety, mostly it was just small cuts from broken bottles anyway, rarely anything bigger.

With the bandages and the necessary extra to make her way to the lobby, she didn't see the gang tampering with something down the hall, ,,I hope you're not taking the piss, do you need anything else?” she said to the group, spotting a few familiar faces from parties and especially fights with the sunny, happy bastards.

But the nervousness and the blood, which looked a little too dark to be artificial, made her a little uneasy - what had happened?

She was just about to exchange a few words with Kate when Deena asked her for some tape to fix the whole thing, which she acknowledged with a ,,Sure, wait a minute” and headed back to her room where more equipment was stored.

But first of all, she passed a certain snack machine where she saw someone who made her pause, ,,Simon? What on earth are you doing here?” she asked even though it was obvious and the blonde looked up from the vending machine.

A familiar broad smile appeared on his face and he leaned against the machine, ,,My nurse, it's been a long time,” he said, yet he seemed happy to see his former companion and perhaps more since she had left school early to start here at the hospital.

A chain of unfavorable events, as they often were in Shadyside, had brought them apart and also brought them together again, ,,Still the broadly grinning, troublemaking Simon,” she replied, not quite knowing whether she should shake his hand, wave, talk or embrace, a decision he took from her and she got into a brief, intimate embrace.

Hands clasped briefly and yet not unfamiliar, a verne memory something that made her heart beat, ,,You know me, Doc,” he winked and she rolled her eyes at the nickname they had really thought she was going to be a doctor and now she was a nurse almost the same.

He hadn't changed in the past month still had the slightly curly hair, a hopeful slightly silly smile and a cute demeanor, ,,Are you assigned to pick up snacks?” she asked, pointing to the glowing vending machine from which he leaned away and pointed to some of the merchandise.

Apparently Simon and his friends had had more than one successful night with the odd creepy incident, ,,I'd love to but no change” he replied and she pushed him aside only slightly not seeing him look away embarrassed as her hand settled on his chest.

How gentle and yet guiding she was, something that had been reflected not only in the bedroom but also in the consumption of pills.

A consumption that had often led them both to each other, from taking them together, smoking, drinking and perhaps the first kiss and more.

With a few deft grabs and a final tap on the drink symbol, the machine gave a rustle and jerk before all the snacks fell down one by one, ,,Who needs change when you've got me?” she replied, pressing the snack bags into his hands, hands resting on top of each other for perhaps a moment longer than necessary.

Maybe she should have walked away, let Simon and the past they had experienced together be a thing of the past and maybe she shouldn't have looked into those blue, engaging blue eyes.

,,Does this work?” Simon's question took her out and she followed his gaze to her chest where the stethoscope lay in her hand, ,,Sure here" she replied and held it out to him, at first he seemed to want to give it back to her but when he realized what he could do with it he took it.

Putting the earpiece of the stethoscope in her ear, she moved a little closer to him, ,,Don't be frightened, my patient,” he grinned and pressed the surface of her breast lightly, wishing her body wouldn't betray her, her heart seemed to jump out of her chest as much as his.

It was like when they used to lie on the couch, cuddling and foggy-headed from a little too much grass, hearts united and just enjoying each other's company. ,,I-I think you're fine,” he stammered, handing her back the stethoscope, which she put back on and silence fell between them.

Their eyes met again and again, hands brushed past each other and only when they heard the shouts and voices of the others did they both flinch, ,,I think we should go back,” she cleared her throat and pointed into the corridor when she suddenly felt his hand on hers.

Turning around, she felt his lips on hers the next moment, finally feeling the kiss again that she had hoped for so long, ,,I still had to thank my nurse,” he had found his mood again and with a wink pulled her after him to the others...maybe they should meet at the snack machine more often than just every few months.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@tori111777 , @simonsrealwife , @bel0ved-heretic , @amecchii , @xxxibgdrgons , @lordbelzeebub , @cowgyaru

[deeplyshalllow]

Do the gale force soldiers witness Fiyero’s transformation? Or do they leave him tied up and come back for Torture part 2: For Bad in the morning/after a coffee break then panic because

a. someone’s obviously used the clothes of their mostly dead ex-captain to make a creepy scarecrow decoy, suggesting the real Fiyero has miraculously escaped in his underwear,

b. they believe they’ve forgotten where they put him, because there are so many other scarecrows (a frankly ridiculous amount!) already in that cornfield, Fiyero’s body blends right in and it takes all day to check them all and come up unnervingly empty. (Oops! All scarecrows!) Prompting the soldiers to check them all again and again “How could you forget?” “Why did you have to tie a sack over his very recognisable face?” “You told me to?!” “Stop gaslighting me!” Etc

c. free space

d. they did see the transformation and it terrified them so much they scarpered to the nearest pub and drank to forget

a.a. they assume Elphaba has taken their dead guy, wholesale, “What do you even do with a dead prince?” “Bury him I guess,” “Use his bones for evil spells,” “I would put the dead prince in an ornately crafted glass coffin in the woods, so that the Winkies and woodland Animals can pay their respects and gaze upon his beautiful face.” … “Except we beat his face up.” “Yeah we beat his face up.”

I’m suffering the thought equivalent of zoomies I’m so so sorry

Loolll Firstly I got a good chuckle out of Torture part 2: For Bad, so thank you for that!

Honestly I've always thought option D - that they did see his transformation for several reasons:

They're supposed to torture Fiyero "until he tells us where the witch went" and (despite the fact that they do know where Elphaba is by March of the Witch Hunters - I think she's beyond being subtle at that point, and she does have good defences) I just can't believe Fiyero would ever tell them, he'd die first. So I do not think they are done with the torturing when he's transformed.

You have to remember that these are Fiyero's men. Guards who have worked under Fiyero, probably considered him a friend, and all along he has been betraying them and working for the Witch. They are probably not the most pleasant people in the first place and they are angry. I don't think any of them are giving up for a coffee break until he's done what they want and is dead

I actually think she casts the spell pretty fast? Like wishing for his flesh not to be torn and to not be feeling pain when he's beaten, is going to be pretty redundant more than 10 minutes after Fiyero has been captured (like it's obviously long enough for there to be some possibility for him to be "already dead or bleeding" but there's also a chance of his survival)? I imagine she got to the nearest safe place and cast. And Elphaba doesn't even cast the spell for that long before giving up and falling into despair so yeah, I imagine the men see it

They would want the body. There's a lot of power displaying tortured Fiyero to Oz whether it be "look what the Witch did to our beloved Prince" or "look what happens to traitors" it sends a message to the Ozians. I can't imagine them going without it if they can help it (and the fact they do come back empty handed and presumably lie about what happened to Morrible, can't have impressed her much)

Why doesn't the scarecrow get caught later then? I imagine the guards still don't necessarily know he's turned into a scarecrow - I imagine they ran away the moment the freaky magic started happening (and again, lied about the success of their murder when questioned by their superiors). There's also a non zero chance that, when they were taking a stiff drink after it all, Elphaba all "no good deed will i do again" returned to the field, found no Fiyero and the guards drinking (she presumes in celebration) and just burnt them all to death.

Thanks for the question! It was fun to specuate!

[ickle-ronniekins]

the things we left unspoken

 pairing: george x fem!reader

word count: 1.4k

warning(s): angst, breakups, substance abuse

desc: wrote this years ago and never published it and then went through one of the most horribly confusing and heart-rending breakups ever! there’s not a whole ton of my old fic writer friends are still here so this is going to hit a new audience if there is still a weasley twins audience on here -- hi, i’m erica, i wrote obsessively for the weasley twins years back. sometimes i still do, for my own enjoyment. though this one hurts and george sucks. i don’t normally do that because i’m in love with him but this is a bit different. sorry

Age 23, Present Day

“No... How dare you come here and tell me this now?”

George feels his chest constrict a bit; his breathing is heavy, as if he’s just run a marathon, which he certainly feels like. It has taken him every bit of his strength to not come to your doorstep and admit to something he should have years ago. He’s absolutely bloody exhausted from fighting an internal battle with himself for this long.

In all of your years aside one another, he’d never quite seen you so angry as this. Your mouth, otherwise normally twisted into some lopsided smile, is now in a thin, firm line. Your jaw is tensed, and he knows from all of those evenings next to you in bed that you’re certainly clenching your teeth because of the stress you surely are feeling from him showing up unannounced. He wishes not to know that. Or actually, if he’s being honest, he wishes that he still spent that time with you in bed, and instead of grinding your teeth together, you’d giggle open-mouthed as he’d press ticklish kisses to the space between your collarbones. Your eyes are ocean blue and stormy and grey at the same time, and he doesn’t quite relish the idea of mustering up any strength he has left to whether the ups and downs of the impending tide.

Though you’re standing your ground, he sees your lip wobble just a smidge and it sends daggers straight through his heart. He swore that day, the day when everything had blown up, that he would never, ever make you cry again. It was the day he thought would be the worst of his life. How painfully wrong he was. Your voice is wobbly now, too. "You had no right to come here and say these things.”

You’re right, of course. He knows that. He doesn’t have any right. He’d lost that privilege the evening you’d taken every stolen glance, every evening kiss, every morning after and laid them out in front of you both, tangled in the web of your own vulnerability. He’d lost any and all privileges when it came to you, when he’d turned everything down, pretending that he didn’t feel exactly the same way you did, pretending it wasn’t what it truly was. Pretending he didn’t love you. He’s so stupid, wasn’t he? Though of course, he’d only rejected them because he thought he’d be protecting you.

There’s nothing he could say now to make things better. Shit. He’s cursing himself upright and backwards; he should’ve just kept his bloody mouth shut like Ron had said.

“I know I have no right,” George starts, and he’s surprised himself with how many emotions are jam packed into those six words. He suddenly feels as though something rather sharp has become lodged in his chest. He places his hands into his pockets and looks up wearily to meet your gaze. Your eyes are still grey, but softened now, as if the storm has drifted out to sea. For a very fleeting moment, he sees traces of that girl from years ago, the one who would run up stealthily to the boys dormitory and hide in his four poster with the curtains drawn until he arrived, quiet so as not to disturb his roommates, with a grin so large and mischievous it could’ve cured him of every anxious thought he ever had. He considers your vulnerability, the traces of what had been, and wants to lean in and kiss you if the moral compass in his head wasn’t screaming at him to not do so right this very moment. Just as well, he thinks, because that fleeting moment in your eyes had disappears as quickly as it had arrived. You’re backing away now, into your front doorway.

He wants to search each and every book all the Wizarding libraries had to offer, because there has to be a spell to turn back time without necessarily meddling with it, right? He can’t stand the idea of using a time turner and possibly fucking up more than he already has.

But if he could turn back time without any consequences, he’d go right back to that night, no questions asked, no time to ponder, and he’d tell you that he loves you.

He’d go right back to when you stood across from him in the rain and told him that you fell for him, even though you promised not too, because what you two were doing was something with no strings attached. You’d both agreed to it, from that first moment he’d kissed you so furiously on the abandoned Quidditch pitch. You never meant to fall for him. You really hadn’t. But you couldn’t help it. And George knew it, too. He’d told himself when you two started this whole thing that someone was bound to get hurt in the end, but he hadn’t been thinking straight then, had he? He was distracted by the heat of your lips exploring his body, by the way your hands always got tangled in his hair and left it messy looking, by the way you’d steal glances at him from across rooms, and from the intense sensual energy you two exchanged in those glances, noting that only you two knew what was going on behind closed doors.

He’d go back to that moment and tell you that he loved you too, and he didn’t care what people thought, because he’s loved you for years, now. He’d loved you ever since that one night when you two were lying in bed and he’d been playing with your hair, and he was joking and going on about something about the test products for the shop, and you continued to trace your finger along his biceps, and casually let it slip how proud you were of him.

You two had agreed that feelings wouldn’t be involved, and yet feelings seemed to be what kept you both from ending things. Until that one night in the rain.

He’d tell you that he didn’t care how you two started, tangled up in bed sheets and one another’s limbs without commitment to one another. All he cares about is how you two end, where commitment is all he bloody wants to give you now.

But he can’t. He can’t go back in time -- not without dire consequences.

There’s a type of yearning in your eyes. He was used to you longing -- for five more minutes, for one more kiss, for a tighter embrace. The truth was, he longed for all of those thing too. He still does.

But this is a different type. This is a type of yearning he can’t quite get on board with, but he knows he has too. If he loves you, truly loves you, he has too. He can practically hear your voice in his head, though your lips aren’t moving. I’m trying to move on, George, and you’re not letting me.

“I’m sorry.. I just needed you to know.” He manages to say shakily. And he tests fate and takes five more seconds, just five more, to memorize you -- the curve of your jaw, the colours in your hair, the intensity of your gaze, because he doesn’t want to forget. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to look at you like this again.

Another dagger to his heart, he lets his gaze drop and turns around before he can’t stop himself from running toward you and kissing you anyway. He doesn’t turn back; he can’t face the girl who’s heart he’s broken once, twice. He can’t bear to do it again. He hears the door shut and stops dead in his tracks, closes his eyes and lets the tears escape them easily. His feet are stuck on the cobblestone street; he can’t leave. But it’s too damn late now.

He never meant for it to get this far, had he? Neither of you had.

Pride is such a stupid thing, and he’s cursed himself for letting it be of higher importance than you. You were the only thing that mattered -- then, and now.

His evening in his flat he shared with Fred above the shop is filled with bottomless drinks until he can’t see straight, and long gazes out of the rain-covered window panes as he tests prototypes for new items. Drunk on anger, and heartbreak, and confusion, he speaks aloud to nobody, if only to remind himself that this pain he feels is real, bona fide, as the crack in his heart draws larger and deeper.

“I'll always fucking love you.”

[sammyluvr]

✶ love you like that — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, fluff, tfem!roommate!sam, college!au, insecurity, kissing, unedited, 783 words. requested ! for my 900 followers event [ closed ] .

prompt : under beige sheets and a grey comforter + “you’re loved.” “but how do you know?” “because i love you.”

the twin sized beds in your campus apartment are a tight squeeze for two people. and sure, there’s two beds, but you and sam make it work for movie nights and the likes. maybe sharing a bed like this is more than friendly, but so are lots of the things you do together.

she’s just very shy, very unsure of herself. but she’s the most comfortable with you over anyone else. you’re the first person she came out to, and the first person to really support her too. it was terrifying, but being herself around you isn’t so scary anymore.

her head rests on your shoulder, and the movie on your laptop is long finished with the dvd already back in its box. earlier this year, she’d wished her beige sheets and dark grey comforter were more feminine. so you told her you really liked the minimalist look and were tired of your old sheets anyway. you gave yours to an old friend moving out of their house and in need, took sam’s so she wouldn’t feel like they were going to waste, and went shopping for new ones with her. so when the two of you are curled up in your bed, you’re warmed by grey and beige, like tonight. and when you’re in hers, the sheets are a subtle lilac and the duvet is off white with little flowers and ruffles around the edge. she said she thought it was a bit much, but you could tell she really liked them. 

she looks very pretty sleeping in that bed, surrounded by pastels and ruffles that match the white nightgown she wears on the hottest summer nights. that dress makes her thighs look so pretty, her chest too. you have a hard time not staring when she wears it.

tonight, she’s quiet. you can feel her hesitation, her tendency towards insecurity. you understand her, of course it’s hard. she’s tall with naturally wide shoulders and strong facial features. but you think she’s so pretty, likely the prettiest girl you’ve ever met. tonight she’s in sweats and a cami, it’s not hot enough for that dress. if it were, neither of you would be under the covers. simple grey blankets both of your legs instead.

“sam,” you murmur, finally shutting your bulky laptop shut.

“mmm?” she hums in response, trying to sound light and untroubled. you know her better than that.

“you’re loved,” you say without any prompting from her at all. “for you. you know that, right?”

she hesitates like she doesn’t know. it’s hard to remember sometimes, hard to feel like it’s true. her voice is small and quiet, like she’s nervous to ask, knowing you get sad when she doubts herself like this. and yet, you reassure her with enthusiasm each and every time, and it always means the world to her. “but how do you know?” she whispers.

you give a small smile, a knowing one. she can’t even see it from where she is. “because i love you,” you say simply. so simply. you’ve said it before. you’re the type of friends who say i love you. but usually it’s casual. you always mean it, but normally, it’s on the way out the door, a friendly love ya! when you won’t see each other for a little while. it’s said while laughing about something stupid, like it’s just an appreciation for the other’s humor and silly thoughts. the way you say it this time is very obviously more. she still takes it as something friendly. in a moment of vulnerability, you’d have said this to her as a friend, too. that much is true, but you know what she means and she’s in denial about what you mean.

she sighs softly, grateful for your kindness, but not so convinced. “i… i know, i mean like–”

“i know what you mean,” you cut her off gently, “that’s what i mean, too. i love you like that, sam. i swear it.”

sam’s a shy girl, but she just has to see your face to make sure you’re not being mean, not saying something just to get her hopes up and then dash them to the floor. you’d never do that, of course. she lifts her head and turns to you, eyes soft and a little pleading too. you meet her gaze with unending sincerity and a patient sort of love.

she grabs your face in both pretty hands and kisses you with enough force to nearly knock your head against the wall behind you. you don’t even startle, just kiss her back with enough force to keep you both safely tucked in the plush of all your blankets and pillows.