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bucky-barnes-diaries · 17 hours ago
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The First Time
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Pairing || Beefy!Bucky x Female!Reader
Summary || Bucky takes your virginity.
World Count || 3414
Contents & Warnings || Fluff, Smut — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, pet names, virgin!reader, loss of virginity, protected vaginal sex, oral (female receiving), mention of bodily fluids.
Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!
Beefy!Bucky Masterlist
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You and Bucky had been in a relationship together for three incredible months now. Before that, you and he had been friends for two years. You have had a crush on him for what felt like forever, your heart skipping a beat every time he smiled at you, but you never had the courage to do anything about it due to your previous relationships.
It took a little matchmaking from your mutual friend, Natasha, who knew that you were both pining for each other, for Bucky to finally ask you out since he had been holding those same feelings for you all along.
One of the reasons that it had taken him such a long time to ask you out was his deep-seated insecurities. The weight of his past still haunted him, and he was terrified that you would end up hurt because of him. But you wanted nothing more than to be with him.
You cherished every moment of your friendship with Bucky, but these past three months of dating had been absolutely magical, filled with tender moments.
One thing that had been absent in your relationship was sex. Bucky was incredibly attentive to your comfort, never once pressuring you with the topic of sex, always letting you set the pace.
During those heated make-out sessions on his worn leather sofa, when his touches became more passionate and his breathing more ragged, he always stopped to check on you, his blue eyes filled with concern and care. When you told him you weren’t in the mood, he would simply kiss your temple softly, pull you close against his warm chest, and hold you there, making you feel safe and cherished.
But you hadn’t been entirely honest with him about something important. The real reason you avoided taking things further during passionate moments was your virginity. Past experiences had made it difficult to open up about it because previous boyfriends had mocked you for it, leaving you with deep trust issues.
But Bucky was different, you knew it. His gentle soul, caring nature, and dedication to your happiness and comfort made you feel safe in a way you had never felt before. Tonight, you were ready to open up to him. You were ready to share this intimate truth with him and hopefully take this next step in your relationship together.
You found yourself on his sofa after an exhausting day at work. Your lips moved together in perfect sync as his strong hands, flesh and metal, held your waist with just the right amount of pressure. Your fingers were tangled in his soft hair, keeping him close as you lost yourself in the moment. The movie playing in the background became nothing more than white noise.
His lips felt incredible against yours, soft yet demanding, as his hands explored your curves with touches that sent tingles through your body. The desire to go further, to feel more of him, was overwhelming. It was stronger than you have ever felt before.
But that familiar voice of insecurity whispered in the back of your mind, bringing a wave of anxiety with it. What if Bucky was just like the others? What if your virginity was a deal-breaker to him? Deep in your heart, you knew he would never react that way.
When his warm hand slipped under your shirt, slowly inching higher towards your breasts, you forced yourself to pause.
“Bucky, wait.” He immediately pulled back, his blue eyes meeting yours with concern, panic flashing across his features. “I���m sorry, doll, if I went too far.” His thumb gently caressed your cheek, his face portraying genuine worry and apology.
“N-no, it’s not that. I-I liked that, I just… I need to tell you something.” He nodded encouragingly, his patient silence giving you the strength to continue.
Here goes nothing.
“I’m a virgin,” you whispered, ducking your head in embarrassment. His fingers gently caught your chin, tilting your face back up to meet his gaze. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was scared and ashamed that you… that you may not want me if you knew,” your voice trembled as you poured out to him, and despite your best efforts to stay composed, a tear escaped, rolling down your cheek. Your past rejections weighed heavily on your heart in this vulnerable moment.
“Don’t want you?” He shook his head, his expression softening as he caught your tear with his thumb. “I want nothing more than you, doll. I hope I’ve never made you uncomfortable. I never want you to feel pressured to have sex with me. Never.” His voice was thick with emotion, so full of sincerity that it made your heart flutter.
You surprised him with a sweet kiss. The moment couldn’t have been more perfect—his acceptance lifted a weight you had been carrying for so long.
“You’ve never pressured me, Bucky. You have always been respectful and understanding.”
He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead before leaning his body against yours, his warmth and comfort enveloping you. “How about we just cuddle tonight?” His hands tenderly cupped your cheeks as he placed a feather-light kiss on the tip of your nose.
You shook your head, bringing his lips back to yours in a passionate, searing kiss. The desire coursing through your veins was overwhelming—you wanted him more than ever, you needed to feel him completely.
“I want you, Bucky. I’ve never wanted anything more. Please…”
“Are you sure? We don’t have to if you’re not ready. I can wait for as long as you need.”
“I’ve never been so sure of something in my life as this. I trust you completely.”
In one fluid movement, he pulled you to straddle his lap, making you gasp. The atmosphere was growing heavy with your shared desire and anticipation.
“Say it again, doll,” he murmured in your ear, his lips brushing against your skin as he placed a soft kiss on your cheek.
“I want you, Bucky. Please.”
He picked you up with strong, sure hands, making you shriek with delight as he carried you bridal-style to his bedroom. Laying you carefully down on the plush mattress, he pressed his warm body against yours, and you reveled in the delicious weight of him on top as he kissed you breathless. His kisses were deep and passionate, filled with such pure adoration that your heart fluttered in your chest.
He reached back and tugged off his red Henley, revealing his perfect physique inch by tantalizing inch. Bucky wasn’t just painfully beautiful, he was also hot. Your fingers itched to trace his skin, to feel his perfect body. Next, he slowly removed his pants, leaving him only in his tight black underwear. The impressive outline of him was clearly visible through the thin fabric, making your breath catch.
“Can I please undress you?” His voice was husky with desire but still gentle, his hair falling over his eyes.
You nodded eagerly while biting your bottom lips, your chest rising and falling with quick breaths. Although desire coursed hot through your veins, you couldn’t help but feel shy at the thought of being completely exposed before him. Bucky, ever so attentive, sensed your slight hesitation.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, doll. We can take things slow. At your own tempo.” His eyes were soft with understanding.
“I want to keep going. I-I’m just a little nervous,” you murmured, biting the inside of your cheek while your fingers fidgeted.
He traced your brow with the pad of his thumb, his touch feather-light and soothing, his voice warm and reassuring. “We’re in this together, You and me. I want to make this as perfect and comfortable as I possibly can for you.”
“Keep going, please. Undress me and make me yours.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but filled with trust.
With a quick, tender kiss to your lips, he helped remove your clothing piece by piece, his movements slow. As each article was discarded, his eyes grew wider, a dark mixture of adoration and burning hunger. He left you bra and panties on, giving you time to get comfortable. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on,” he breathed.
He kissed you passionately before his lips began a torturous journey downward, leaving a trail of heated kisses across your neck, paying special attention to that sensitive spot underneath your ear. His lips and tongue worked together perfectly, making you hum as your fingers threaded through his hair. The path of kisses led him to the valley between your breasts, where he paused to look up at you for permission, which you gave. His hands, one warm flesh and one cool metal, reached underneath you to unclasp your bra. Once removed, his attention was on your exposed skin. He worshiped every inch with his lips and tongue, and when he finally took your sensitive nipples into his mouth, altering between gentle sucks and teasing flicks, you couldn’t help but arch into his touch and release a breathy moan.
He looked up at you, his lips parted and pupils dilated, and hair falling deliciously over his face. Your eyes widened, suddenly feeling self-conscious about your vocal response, but Bucky’s reassuring smile immediately put you at ease.
“I don’t want you to hold back. Make any sound that you want so I know what makes you feel good. I want you to enjoy yourself, doll.” His voice was rough with desire but still so tender.
He continued his descent, placing open-mouthed kisses across your stomach, each touch and kiss sending sparks of pleasure through your body. The further down he went, leaving a trail of heat in his wake, the more your legs parted instinctively, anticipating what was to come. Your body seemed to know exactly what it wanted, even if your mind was racing with nervousness.
Once he was finally nestled between your open legs, he looked up at you through hooded eyes, his breath ragged and pupils blown with desire. “Can I taste you?” He murmured, his hot breath fanning across your covered core, making your back arch slightly and goosebumps ghosting your skin. You frantically nodded, your whole body trembling with anticipation, needing him to continue, wanting desperately to feel his mouth on your most intimate part.
He carefully, and slowly, pulled down your panties, his metal hand cool against your heated skin. Your heart was pounding so hard in your chest you were sure he could hear it. You have never gone this far before, but you trusted Bucky completely. You knew he would take care of you.
Bucky’s tongue traced his lower lip as he saw you bare and exposed, already wet and ready for his mouth. He spread your legs wider with gentle but firm hands to get a perfect view of your pussy, his eyes darkening at the sight before him.
“So beautiful,” he murmured while placing soft, teasing kisses along your inner thigh, slowly working his way towards your waiting pussy. When his tongue finally licked a broad stripe up your center, he kept his intense gaze locked on your face, studying your reactions to learn what made you feel good. You let out a surprise gasp at the unfamiliar yet incredible delicious sensation. He did it once more, this time slower and with more pressure, and you threw your head back into the pillows while gripping his dark locks between your trembling fingers.
“O-oh, t-that’s good,” you moaned breathlessly as Bucky worshiped you with his mouth. His lips wrapped around your sensitive clit, expertly switching between sucking and flicking with his tongue, while his metal hand held your hip steady to keep you from squirming. Your senses were completely overwhelmed with pleasure, every nerve ending on fire. If he kept going at this pace, you were going to come embarrassingly soon, but Bucky took notice and suddenly released you. You let out a frustrated whimper as the pending orgasm was ripped from you, your body still trembling with need.
“Hmm, you taste absolutely incredible, doll. The way you respond to me drives me wild,” he murmured against your inner thigh, his hot breath making you shiver. “As much as I would love to feel you come undone on my tongue as I watch you fall apart, I need to be inside you. I want us to come together, want to feel you wrapped around me when we both let go.”
He captured your lips in a passionate kiss, your tongues dancing together desperately as you savored the taste of each other. His metal hand cupped your cheek while his flesh one traced patterns on your hip. “Don’t move,” he murmured against your swollen lips. “I’ll go get a condom.” He gave you one last lingering peck before pulling away and disappearing into his bathroom. You could hear him rummaging around frantically for the item, cursing lowly under his breath as more drawers were opened and closed on his mission to find a condom. A few moments later he emerged with it in hand, a victorious smile playing on his lips.
You couldn’t help but giggle at his eagerness as he climbed back on top of you, immediately claiming your mouth in another fierce kiss that left you breathless. With trembling fingers, you tugged at his underwear, helping him shimmy out of them. Your hand experimentally wrapped around his length, making him groan deeply against your neck. His mouth fell open as you slowly moved your hand up and down his impressive cock. He was bigger than you’d imagined, and a flutter of nervousness passed through you as you wondered how painful it might be for your first time. But that anxiety was quickly overshadowed by pure want. You needed to feel him inside you, needed his passionate kisses and whispered praises in your ear. You trusted Bucky completely, knowing that he would be gentle and considerate. That he would take care of you like he always did.
You released him from your grip so he could roll the condom on, watching with hooded eyes as he prepared himself. Before you knew it, he was positioning himself between your thighs, his tip pressing against your entrance as he looked deep into your eyes, silently asking permission one final time. “Please,” you breathed out, running your hands up his strong arms. “I’m so ready, Bucky. Please, I want you.”
He slowly pushed inside your tightness, the initial stretch making you whimper and shut your eyes at the slight burning sensation. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as you tried to adjust to his size, your breath coming in short gasps.
“Are you OK? Do you want to stop,” he asked with genuine concern, his flesh hand tenderly cradling your face while his metal one held him upright, the plates whirring softly with the strain of holding back. His eyes searched yours intently, ready to pull away at the slightest sign of stress. “N-no, please keep going. I need you.”
When he was fully situated inside you, stretching you deliciously, he took his time to kiss all over your face—your forehead, your closed eyelids, your warm cheeks—making you giggle. His stubble tickled your skin as his journey of tender kisses ended with an achingly sweet one to your lips. “I love you, doll. Thank you for trusting me with this, with everything.”
That was the first time he had said those three precious words to you and it made your heart almost burst out of your chest. “I love you too,” you whispered, cupping his face in your hands and stroking his cheekbones with your thumbs, “now, please move. I want to feel you take me and make me yours completely.”
He pulled out until only his tip remained inside before pushing back in with excruciating slowness, making you moan and cling to him tighter, your nails leaving marks on his broad shoulders. He repeated this careful motion several times, each thrust helping your body adjust to his impressive size.
“Please, Bucky,” you breathed against his lips, your legs hooking around his waist to pull him closer, begging him to take you properly. Your heels dug into his lower back as your body arched underneath him. He let out a deep, throaty groan that sent shivers down your spine and buried his face in your neck, kissing and sucking your sensitive skin as his hips began to move with purpose against you.
“You feel incredible, doll,” he groaned against your neck, his hot breath fanning across your heated skin, making you whimper sweetly. Bucky took notice of your reaction, adjusting his hips until he found that perfect spot that made you see stars. your whole body trembling underneath him.
He rested his forehead against yours, his blue eyes, dark with desire, gazed deeply into yours as you climbed higher towards release together. Your fingers tangled in his soft brown hair, tugging lightly as his flesh hand snaked down between your bodies to where you were joined, his skilled fingers finding and circling your sensitive clit. The dual sensation of him stimulating your clit and the tip of his cock brushing your sweet spot made your whole body sing with pleasure, your back arching off the bed. “Oh f-f-fuck, I’m so close, Bucky. Please don’t stop.”
He maintained a steady, passionate rhythm, determined to make you fall apart around him. The thought of him being the first, and hopefully only, to ever make you come undone like this had your head spinning, your vision blurring at the edges as pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak.
“Come for me, baby. I need to feel you,” he breathed against your ear, his voice rough with desire. His words sent electricity down your spine and that was the final push you needed. Your pussy pulsed around him as waves of intense pleasure took complete control over your body. You threw your head back against the pillows as stars exploded behind your vision, your fingers digging into his shoulders. With one final, deep thrust, he spilled inside the condom while burying his face in the crook of your neck, his hot breath and muffled moans of pleasure sending shivers across your skin. He continued to move against you with slow, gentle thrusts, drawing out both of your highs until you were shaking underneath him.
As you both started to come down from your shared orgasm, he pressed a series of soft, loving kisses to your lips, making you hum in delight. You hissed at the loss when he carefully pulled out of you, immediately missing the feeling of fullness. He rolled to the side, discarding the condom, before pulling you close, tucking you perfectly against his warm chest. You nestled into his embrace, ear pressed to his chest where you could hear his calming heartbeat, as he traced gentle patterns across your back with his fingertips.
The room fell into a peaceful silence, filled only with the sound of your synchronized breathing as you basked in the afterglow of your shared bliss, savoring each other’s warmth and tender touches. After several minutes of comfortable silence, you were the first one to speak.
“That was absolutely incredible, Bucky,” you whispered against his chest, tilting your head up to meet his adoring gaze. “Thank you for being so sweet and caring, and for making my first time more special than I could have ever imagined.”
“Always, doll,” he responded with a tender smile, his metal hand coming up to gently pinch your chin as he guided your lips to his for a slow, deep kiss. “Thank you for trusting me. I feel like the luckiest man alive to be the first, and I hope only one, to ever make you come like that.”
You giggled softly against his lips, pressing another kiss to them before dropping your voice to a sultry whisper. “Well, lucky for you, Mr. Barnes, you’re the only one who will ever be allowed to make me come like that for the rest of our lives.”
“Hmm, is that a promise, doll?” He playfully growled, his eyes darkening with renewed desire as he swiftly rolled on top of you once more, caging you beneath his strong body. “Because I intend to spend the rest of my life proving just how lucky I am to do so.” His lips descended on yours again, ready to make good on that promise.
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Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people! I would really appreciate it 🖤
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naturesapphic · 10 hours ago
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Am I crazy for suggesting… Billie z Reneé Rapp x reader threesome? Maybe the reader as the sneaky threesome link in Billie and Renee’s relationship who gets invited to make it a throuple? 👀
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Sneaky Link
Renee Rapp x Billie Eilish x Fem!reader (poly)
Warnings: smut, poly relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort
Word count: 1,259 ;)
You were outside the door of Renee and Billie’s house. They invited you over for the night, probably just wanting another hook up to satisfy them. At first it was like that for you, but the more time you spent with them, the more your feelings grew for them. You’ve been their sneaky leak for months now and you desperately craved to be more than that. You’ve wanted to be the third person in the relationship but realistically you knew that would never happen.
So you tried to be distant with them but every time they would call you over to their house, you were always over there in no time. The door opened and Billie stood there with a smile on her face with Renee behind her, giving you a smile too. You gave them a small smile back which made them confused but they brushed it aside and let you come in. “How have you’ve been sweetheart?” Renee asked you as she went by your side and put her hand on your back to lead you to the couch.
You blushed at the contact and sat down between Billie and Renee. “So…we actually didn’t call you here for a hook up…” Billie said nervously and you looked at the two of them in confusion but Renee gave you a reassuring smile. “It’s nothing bad babygirl we promise. We just wanted to ask you something important.” Renee said and you let out a breath of relief. You waited until Billie decided to ask you and you couldn’t believe what she said. “Will you be our girlfriend?” She asked and your mouth dropped open in shock which scared the two women. It was a few seconds until they both started apologizing to you.
“We’re so sorry.” Billie said while placing a comforting hand on your thigh. “We just really like you y/n and we had a feeling that you felt the same way but I guess-“ Renee started but you cut her off by a gentle kiss on her lips. Renee eyes widen but she immediately kissed you back making Billie whine. “I want a kiss too!” Billie said childish and the two of you giggled as you pulled away from Renee and leaned over to kiss Billie. Billie and you kissed for a bit before pulling away and smiling at each other. The two women gave each other a smirk and took your hand and led you upstairs.
You knew where this was going and you couldn’t believe this was all happening in front of you. Sure the three of you had plenty of sex before, but it was before they asked you to be their girlfriend and before feelings were confessed. They said specifically that this was no strings attached but that clearly changed tonight which you couldn’t be more happier about. They opened the bedroom door for you and Billie came up to pick you up bridal style in her arms while Renee started to light some candles and music to set the mood. You smiled as Billie gently placed you in the middle of the bed as the two women looked you over with adoring and lust filled eyes.
“Where should we start first?” Renee asked Billie and Billie hummed as she starts thinking. “I’ll take the bottom half.” Billie stated and you felt your underwear dampen with your arousal as those words fell from her mouth. Billie crawled on the bed and hovered over your stomach. “Is this okay?” She asked before she did anything else. “Y-yes…please…I-i need y-yall…” you whimpered and the two women smirked at your neediness. Renee walked over and sat beside you, her hands on your waist as you gently laid back so the back of your head was resting on her shoulder. The two women made sure that you were comfortable and that you truly wanted this.
You reassured them that they could do absolutely anything they wanted to you and they felt their own underwear dampen at your confession, but right now they want to take care of you. “Just relax baby and let us take care of you yeah?” Renee whispered sweetly in your ear as Billie runs her hands up and down your thighs. “Y-yes please.” You say as you know they wanted to hear you say it, as Verbal consent is very important to them. It was all a blur as you felt the two women carefully removed each piece of clothing from your body and soon you were nude with the two fully clothed women.
You felt their love, lust, and adoration for you with their touch and actions. Renee had her hands on your breast, massaging them gently, while she was whispering words of reassurance in your ear. Billie was between your legs, eating you out. Her tongue was exploring you in such a deep and raw way that made your heart beat fast. Billie was suckling on your clit that made your stomach twist and your body arch at how good she was making you feel. Both women were making you feel like you were in heaven and you didn’t wanna come down anytime soon. As Renee and Billie kept pleasuring you, you started to feel the familiar knot form in your stomach.
Billie could tell too at how you were clenching around her tongue and she gently tapped your thigh twice to let you know that it’s okay to cum. Your moans filled the bedroom as you let go, cumming in Billie’s tongue and Renee kissing your neck softly. Billie started to lick you clean as you were panting hard, recovering from your orgasm that they both gave you. Renee moved her hands so that they were on your tummy and waist, as Billie moved her face from your thighs, and sat up. “You okay darling? That wasn’t too much was it?” Renee asked as she held you close as Billie went to get a wash cloth and some other important things for your aftercare. “Y-yeah…just tired now.” You said smiling up at her.
Renee smiled back and helped you sit up so she can give you one of Billie’s oversized shirts to put on. You thanked you and watched as Billie came into the room with a tray full of stuff in her hands. It had a washcloth, some snacks, water bottles, and some candy. You smiled big as you noticed some of your favorites in the bunch and you made grabby hands towards them, making Renee and Billie laugh. “You’re too cute.” Billie said as she placed the tray on the bed. As you were snacking and drinking your water, Billie was cleaning you up gently and after she was done she helped put on her hit me hard and soft boxers that you said that you loved. When the three of you were done snacking, y’all got snuggled up, you being in the middle of the two women as they kissed each other goodnight. Then they kissed you goodnight and explained at how happy they were that you were finally their girlfriend, making you fall asleep in their arms with a smile on your face.
A/n: so long but I hope y’all enjoyed it! This took me too long so repost, like, and comment please 🙏🏻 Thank you anon for the request and I hope you liked it. I hope everyone else liked it as well! :) Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! Take care of yourselves. I love y’all! :) more to come….
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merakiui · 2 days ago
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I feel like Floyd would enjoy having a van and travelling around twisted wonderland
probably with a few actual buildings to live in for awhile if he ever gets “sick of that cramped space”
he just seems like a guy who would proudly show u his van and all his neat stuff he picked up while travelling and when u look intrested or amazed
“eh you think this is neat shrimpy? Maybe u should join me then~ the bed can fit twoooo hahaha”
cut to smexy time in van where it is clearly rocking from the SINFUL activity going on inside along with lots of moans and groans and cheeky laughter from a cheeky eel :3c
FLOYD VAN LIFE YESSSSS!!!!! He so would… omg he absolutely would live in a van and travel around,,, seeing new sights, gathering trinkets and fun experiences as he goes, etc!! I can vividly picture him driving one of those hippie vans that’s decorated in bright colors and patterns. Like the vintage VW microbus!!! And maybe he’s a traveling musician because he needs to make money to afford living on the road and everything else that comes with this lifestyle!!! Ruggedly attractive, annoyingly flirtatious solo musician Floyd who never seems to settle in one place for long and is always on the go……. I need him. He oozes sex appeal and just an overall good time. Friendly vibes. >w< but of course there’s something so Casanova about him….. it isn’t his intention to leave a trail of broken hearts from city to city, but he is so not ready to settle down right now. Not when there’s still so much to see and do!! OTL if he knocks you up on the road… well!!!! Plans change! He lives for this spontaneity.
Fucking in the van as well…… omg pray that Floyd parked somewhere away from a busy lot, or else anyone within proximity to the van is going to hear nothing but the salacious sounds of sex!!! Oooo he is so cheeky, giggling at you when you try to keep your voice down…… it’s no fun if you’re trying to muffle yourself. :< let him hear you~ but is any of that really important right now when he’s rearranging your guts and taking you to heaven, when you’re so focused on clawing his back, when all you can think of is him in this perfect space. So maybe you forget all about being quiet and slip into shameless enjoyment.
Those windows and doors are going to be WIDE OPEN in the aftermath to ventilate the van after certain activities. :) but that just means he gets to bring out his portable grill and make Shrimpy and him a delicious meal. <3 and since he’s in such a good mood, he’ll break out his guitar and play until the sun’s set and the moon’s hanging high in the sky.
You started out as a fling, but now he wouldn’t mind it if you accompanied him on his travels. No matter where he goes or however many people he charms, you’ll always be his number one. (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)❤︎
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moralesluvr · 6 hours ago
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FABLE AND TRUTH 6 | billie eilish
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୧ ‧₊˚ love was the law & religion was taught…. ↳ summary: you had always been raised on being poise, feminine, classy. but what was most important to your family was your religion— and it had embroidered itself into your daily life. but when it’s time to pick between feelings and faith, which will you choose? pairings & aus. billie eilish x fem!reader warnings. religious backgrounds & guilt | mature language | sexual content | substance use author's note. back to my regularly scheduled programming…trying to upload everyday. i’m so excited about this series and what’s in store; enjoy !! wc. 12k
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✧ 4:26 am, thursday ✧
billie’s pacing felt like an endless, drunken mess, the soft padding of her socked feet on the hardwood floor the only sound filling her quiet bedroom. every step was wobbly, uneven, the thuds of harder steps sinking into the floor. her phone sat on the edge of her desk, lit up and buzzing as her thumb hovered over the call button, swaying, like even it didn’t know what it wanted. 
her chest was tight, like she couldn’t get a full breath no matter how hard she tried. 
“god, this is so stupid,” she slurred, a bitter laugh bubbling up and spilling out, “so fucking stupid.” her voice cracked halfway through, and her giggles fizzled out into silence.
she ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the ends as if the dull ache in her scalp could distract her from the mess inside her head. the fight played on a loop in her mind, the words that you had thrown at her cutting deeper each time she replayed them. i don’t want you. at all.
“fuck,” she muttered under her breath, stopping mid-step and leaning against her desk. her fingers curled around the edge, gripping it tight enough to make her knuckles bleed white. she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to will the memory away, but it was no use.
because the thing was— she did know you. at least, she thought she did. she knew how your hands trembled when you were nervous, how your eyes darted around the room when you were thinking too hard about something, how you bit your lip when you were holding back words that you weren’t ready to say.
but now? now, billie wasn’t so sure anymore. had she been wrong about you? had she pushed too hard? maybe you were right— maybe billie didn’t know you the way she thought she did. and that realization was almost worse than the fight itself.
she tried to really think through how you were feeling, but everything was so unclear. you go out with her, kiss her, and then run off like nothing happened? she tried to hear you out, but things weren’t making sense. she felt like you were projecting, like there was something else underlying your irrationality, but she couldn’t pinpoint it. 
oh, how sorry she felt. billie felt like she had did you wrong, like she should’ve been more careful, more understanding. but she knew that she couldn’t change what she did, what was said— it was all too late now.
she really liked you, if that wasn’t obvious enough. but given the way you placed your faith above anything else, the way that you carried yourself, she knew that deep down, you could never be interested in someone like her. and she couldn't blame you, she just didn’t fit into your lifestyle. 
she didn’t mean to make you feel like she was wrecking your morals, but she couldn’t stop herself. her crush blossomed when you two talked, and even more when you didn’t. because then, her imagination could roam. she could think of a world where she belonged in yours, where you two were absolutely inseparable. she could pretty much ponder about whatever she wanted, and if she thought long and hard enough, she could convince herself it was real. 
she had only met you shy of a week ago, and that was the bad part. usually, billie was more stoic, careful with what she said and did. she couldn’t let herself fall to easily, but it was like she was starstruck by you. 
and she hated it. 
she hated that everytime she got around you, she couldn’t get that stupid grin off of her face. she hated that when you touched her, even if it was on accident, her skin would light up, identical to the way her eyes did when she looked at you. she hated that your opinion was the only thing that mattered to her— but most of all, she hated how much she didn’t hate you.
because, in reality, she should. you hated her back, and that should’ve been a good enough reason for her to hate you, right? 
wrong. 
she wanted to chase after you, no matter how many times you’ve told her to stop, to let you go, pushing her away. she was drawn to you no matter what you did to her, and that’s what billie despised. whatever you did, said, however you acted— it was never enough to get her to stop. 
but a little sliver of her understood. she knew deep down that it was just how you were— a faithful Christian and a girl who hardly believed, how was that going to work?
it was just the principle, she thought. it was just how things were going to be. but at the same time, she wished you would at least try. try to let her in— she wouldn’t hurt you, and she was certain that you knew that. you just weren’t brave enough to give it a try. 
and then, she was angry. 
angry at how you stormed off, after you were the one to kiss her. she was angry at how you pretended like everything between you was just friendship, but billie saw the way you looked at her when you thought she didn’t notice. yeah, she saw that. 
she saw everything. and it made her even more upset, because how could you just walk away, after everything that had happened?
billie chewed on the inside of her cheek, her gaze flicking to the phone again. her stomach twisted at the thought of pressing that button, of hearing your voice again, of maybe making things worse. but she had to try. she couldn’t let it end like this, not after everything. it was too easy to give up, and she wouldn’t have it. she needed to make things right.
just call her, she told herself, but her fingers wouldn’t move. her head was loud, so loud, her thoughts a jumbled mess of regret and anger and confusion. she needed answers, needed to understand why things had unraveled so fast, why you had kissed her and then pushed her away so violently, all in the same breath.
and, if she was being honest with herself, she needed to know if there was still something left between you two. if the thread that had always connected you hadn’t completely snapped, if there was something worth saving. 
billie took a deep, shaky breath and reached for her phone. her eyes hovered over your profile picture, your pretty smile illuminating her screen. she almost broke at that, and she shook her shoulders to try and shake it, her thumb hovering over the call button for a second that felt like an eternity. then, with a quiet exhale, she pressed it.
she held the phone to her ear, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure it would drown out the ringing. once, twice, three times— it felt endless. and just as she was about to lose her nerve and hang up, the call connected.
“…hello?”
your voice was soft, hesitant, and billie’s breath caught in her throat. she clenched her jaw, trying to steady herself, but the cracking in her hushed breathing gave her away. she could feel the tension on the other side of the line, and she almost spoke to break it, but then she heard a voice. 
“no, dude— hang up!”
“shit.” was all she heard you say before the line went dead. 
billie almost lost her mind at that, and she threw her phone harshly onto her bed, cursing underneath her breath. it didn’t take a genius to know who was talking in the background, obviously it was emma. 
so your friends hated her, too? what else was new? 
she sat down on the edge of her bed, her hands dragging through her hair, fingers curling at the roots. the sting in her scalp didn’t compare to the tightness in her chest, like her ribs were caving in on her lungs. her jaw ticked, her gaze locked on the phone lying motionless on the bed. it just sat there, mocking her, your contact still opened. 
“unbelievable,” she muttered, the word heavy with frustration. her mind wouldn’t stop replaying it— emma’s sharp voice, that venom-laced “hang up.”
of course, it was emma. always hovering, always protective, like some unspoken barrier between you and everyone else. billie got it— she really did. emma was just looking out for you. but that didn’t make it any less maddening. it didn’t make the rejection hurt any less.  
her knee started bouncing as she leaned forward, her elbows on her thighs, her head in her hands. every second of that call was burned into her mind, every pause, every breath, every muffled sound from your end.  
why? why couldn’t you just talk to her? why did you have to listen to emma, let her speak for you like you didn’t have your own mind?  
but then, in the quiet of her room, another thought crept in, unwelcome and sharp. maybe you don’t want to talk to her. maybe you really mean it when you say you don’t want her.
the thought twisted in her gut, and she stood up abruptly, pacing the room again like it would help, but it really didn’t. nothing did. the same questions looped in her head, over and over, no answers in sight.  
she wanted to be mad at you, to hold onto the anger, but it didn’t stick. because she knew. she knew how you looked at her when you thought she wasn’t paying attention, she knew the way your voice got quieter, softer, when it was just the two of you. she knew the way your lips lingered just a second too long when you kissed her.  
and maybe that’s why it hurt so much. because she couldn’t be making all of that up. could she? could she really be the only one who was feeling like this? was everything unrequited, or were you just afraid? 
billie eventually stopped pacing, only because her legs were aching from doing so. her hands found themselves on her hips, her eyes fixed on her phone like it might come alive and give her the answers she was too afraid to ask for. but all it did was sit there, silent, just like you.  
“why’d you kiss me if you didn’t want me?” she mumbled, her words thick, slurred. her voice cracked again, and she let out a shaky breath, “why’d you—” she started, but she couldn’t finish. her throat tightened, and she felt the tears spill over, hot against her flushed cheeks.
billie found herself sinking onto the floor, curled up in her own frame, trying to keep her emotions at bay and her swirling mind at rest. but she was too tired of thinking, too tired to try and make things seem rational. she was over it, over everything.
she thinks back to the night that she first met you, though everything’s kind of choppy. she thinks about when she told you that she didn’t really believe in getting drunk to solve your problems, or to pretend that things were better then they seem. but now, it seems like those morals aren’t as strong as they were. 
she fumbled for the bottle of tequila she’d left on the floor, her fingers slipping a few times before she managed to grab it. the glass was almost empty, but she tipped it back anyway, the last dregs burning slightly as they slid down her throat.
“god, i’m such a fucking mess,” she said to no one, her giggles bitter and hollow. she wiped at her face with the sleeve of her hoodie, but it didn’t help much, because tears still streamed down her cheeks.
you were all she could think about. you, with your stupid soft voice and your stupid pretty face and your stupid everything. it wasn’t fair. it wasn’t fair that you got to live rent-free in her head while she was falling apart over you.
her phone buzzed again, and her head snapped toward it, her heart lurching in her chest. she scrambled to grab it, almost dropping it in her drunken haste. but when she saw the screen, her stomach sank. it wasn’t you. of course it wasn’t.
“why won’t you just talk to me?” she asked aloud, though you weren’t there to hear it. her voice cracking again, “why won’t you just tell me how you feel?”
sobs shoot through her body, and she’s sure this is the hardest she’s ever cried before. but she couldn’t help it. with the help of the alcohol that was coursing through her veins, plus the confusion and the fight, it was all she could do. 
she cries until her eyes are too tired to form more tears. she cries until her eyes are drained and her throat is scratchy, and she finally sits up, her back slumped against the wall.
her chest heaved with each deep breath that she took, her hands trembling as she gripped the phone like it was the only thing tethering her to reality. the screen dimmed, and she stared at your name, willing it to light up with a call, a message— anything. but it didn’t. it stayed still, cold and indifferent, mocking her desperation.
“what the hell is wrong with you?” she muttered, her words slurred. she wasn’t sure if she was talking to herself or to you anymore, to be honest.
“why do you— why do you get to walk away like that? like you didn’t…like you didn’t kiss me first. so fuckin’ rude.”
her grip on the phone tightened, her jaw clenching as her tears dried, replaced by something hotter, angrier. she pushed herself off the floor, stumbling slightly as she paced the room again. her head was spinning, from the alcohol and the heartbreak, but her anger was sharp and steady, a beacon in her haze.
“you kissed me,” she said aloud, her voice louder now, more forceful, “you kissed me, and then you acted like— like it didn’t mean anything. like i didn’t mean anything.”
her fists curled at her sides, and she kicked the edge of her desk in frustration, wincing as the sharp pain shot through her foot. but it didn’t stop her, it didn’t even slow her down. she kept pacing, “you’re so fucking unfair,” she hissed, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. “you—ugh!”
she turned to her bed, grabbing the nearest pillow and throwing it across the room with all the strength she could muster. it hit the wall with a dull thud, but it didn’t satisfy her, didn’t even come close. 
“why are you like this?” she yelled, though careful not to wake any of her neighbors up. her voice cracks again, “why do you get to mess with my head, make me feel like…like i’m not enough?”
her knees wobbled, and she sank onto the sheets of her bed, her hands burying in her hair. the anger drained as quickly as it had come, leaving her exhausted, empty. her thoughts spiraled, looping back to you, always to you. the fight, the kiss, the way your voice had trembled when you said her name.
and then— quickly, her mind wandered, unbidden, to the bar. to the way your lips had curled when you threw that sharp, biting remark at her. to the way your eyes burned with frustration, your voice rising in a way she’d never heard before. and— god, the way you had sworn at her, the first time you’d ever done that. it shouldn’t have made her feel the way it did, but nevertheless, it did. she hated how hot it was, how the word rolled off your tongue like a challenge, like a dare.
“billie, would you just shut the fuck up?”
yeah, she was whipped.
billie groaned, her hands dragging down her face as she pulled her navy blue covers over her frame. the ceiling spun above her, and she fluttered her eyes closed, but that didn’t really help. all she could see was you. your lips, your eyes, the way your hand had brushed hers whenever she was patching you up in her car. it had been such an innocent touch, but it had set her skin on fire, left her wanting more.
she cursed under her breath, her mind betraying her as it conjured up images of you. not the angry, distant version of you from the fight, but the softer, quieter version. the one who laughed at her dumb jokes, her teasing nicknames, it was all you. you who leaned closer than necessary when you spoke, who looked at her like she was the only person in the room, which always made her feel better, way warmer, even if your intentions were innocent. she thought about the version of you who kissed her like you meant it, like you wanted her as much as she wanted you.
her breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest as her thoughts grew more vivid, more dangerous. she could still feel the ghost of your lips on hers, the way your fingers had curled into her jacket like you didn’t want to let go. she wanted to believe that version of you was real, that it wasn’t just a figment of her drunk, desperate imagination.
“shit,” she whispered, her voice barely audible as she threw an arm over her face, trying to block out the images, the feelings, but it was no use. they kept crawling back into her conscience, no matter how hard she tried to kick them out. you were everywhere, in every thought, every breath, every beat of her pounding heart.
she hated how much she wanted you. hated how, even now, after everything, she couldn’t stop craving your touch, your voice, your laugh. hated how her body betrayed her, how the memory of you swearing at her sent a shiver down her spine, made her stomach twist in that familiar, dangerous way. it made her whole body set ablaze, tingles and rushes of adrenaline tangled within her nerves.
billie’s arm slid off her face slow and choppy as she let out a long, frustrated sigh, staring blankly at the ceiling that made her eyes spin. her thoughts were a mess, tangling and then untangling, looping back to the way your voice sounded— sharp, angry, and utterly captivating. she hated herself for it, for how much she liked the way you challenged her, even when it hurt her. 
she shouldn’t like it this much.
you were always so calm, so composed, so measured in everything you did. but at the bar, you were raw and unfiltered. the way your lips had pressed into a thin line, the way your eyes blazed with frustration— it wasn’t something she’d ever seen from you before, and gosh, it did something to her. it was like you had cracked open, showing her a side of you that no one else got to see.
“get it together,” billie muttered to herself, running a hand through her hair. but it was useless. her mind was already spiraling, drawn back to the memory of you leaning over the table, your voice low and heated as you argued with her. there was a fire in your eyes, a passion she hadn’t expected, and it had set something alight in her, too.
and that kiss. man, that kiss. she could still feel it, the way your lips had pressed against hers, hesitant at first but quickly growing bolder. it wasn’t soft or sweet— it was urgent, messy, like you were trying to pour everything you felt into it. like you were saying all the things you couldn’t put into words.
billie groaned, turning on her side as heat crept up her neck. she was drunk, sure, but even she couldn’t blame the alcohol for the way her thoughts lingered on you. on the way your hands had trembled slightly when you kissed her, the way your breath had hitched when she pulled you closer.
she couldn’t blame the alcohol, because this wasn’t the first time she had these thoughts. 
her chest ached with memory, a mixture of longing and regret swirling inside her. she wanted to be angry, to stay mad at you for storming off, for listening to emma, for acting like she didn’t matter to you. but she couldn’t. because deep down, she knew that wasn’t the whole truth. she knew there was more to it, more to you.
maybe that’s what scared her the most. not that you didn’t care about her, but that you did— and that you were too afraid to let yourself feel it.
“you’re such an idiot,” she whispered out, though she wasn’t sure if she was talking about you or herself. maybe both.
her cheeks flushed, a baby pink hue finding its way onto her cheeks, playing on her features like some sick game. she was way past embarrassed, but she was alone, and it didn’t seem as bad as it really was. 
without thinking, billie sank deeper within the cushioning of her bed, her fingers grazing over the hem of her gingham shorts, her breath hitching. she stopped for a second, trying to think hard about what she was doing, but the alcohol forbade her from staying on track.
eventually, her mind couldn’t help but wander, identical to the way her fingers ventured down her thighs, grazing them with her fingertips in a slow, vertical fashion, until she made it back to the scrunched waistband. and with swift movements, she slid her shorts off of her legs, pushing them through the covers until they found themselves on the floor.
billie took her sweet time, at first, just toying with the outer corners of her lacy black panties, pulling at the semi-circle flowers on the ends. she closed her eyes, letting herself drown in all the events of the night, the heated flirting, the way you had kissed her so passionately in the passenger seat.
she shouldn’t be thinking about you like this, not after everything. not after the way you walked out, leaving her standing in the middle of that bar, a mess of confusion and longing. but deep down, she couldn’t let go. she liked the fuel, like a moth to a flame, she was drawn to you. she couldn’t help herself. 
she couldn’t help the way her hands moved to slide her underwear down to her ankles, kicking the article of clothing off and down to the floor, along with her discarded shorts. a sudden rush of cool air made her let out a small gasp, the breath low and sultry as she pulled the covers closer.
she wouldn’t ever admit it out loud, but billie was always easier to turn on when she was drunk. and with recent events, it wasn’t helping the heat that was burning in her lower abdomen. 
she traced a finger over her sensitive core, and then adding another, before pushing her slit open slowly, webs of wetness latching onto her fingertips as she let out a cool, choppy moan. 
this was awful, so very wrong— to touch herself while thinking about you, especially now. but you didn’t have to know, no one did, and that’s the logic she used to satisfy her greed, her hunger for you, her constant need to see you, touch you. 
billie spread her legs as she slipped her fingers inside of her warm cunt, the digits stretching out her walls sweetly as her thumb latched onto her clit, rubbing tight and firm circles against it. every thought of your pretty face, of your tooth-aching sweet smile, your precious eyes— that was what fueled her to keep touching herself, to feel those ground-breaking tingles against her exposed skin. 
she bit her lip, her hips bucking underneath her satin sheets as her fingers thrusted quicker into her pussy, though her movements were choppy and uneven— it still felt good. she kept thinking about you, unashamed now, your face etched into her memory as she fought to keep her moans at bay. 
she thanked the heavens that she didn’t have a roommate.
beads of sweat formed onto billie’s back as her head sinks into her pillow, little whimpers passing through her reddened, plump lips, her movements quickening as she felt a tight knot from in her stomach. images of you flashed against her mind, like gasoline to a fire, stoking up the adrenaline that was entangled in her veins. her fingertips curl and graze against her sweet spot, angelic moans falling thin and weak in the air as she moaned out, little syllables of your name rolling off of your tongue. 
it was so bad, but it felt so good. she was needy, eager, and that was obvious in the way that her hips lifted off of her covers, her hands sliding in and out of her wet pussy, her eyes fluttering closed as she felt her orgasm crash over her like a warm wave. she panted heavily, her movements slowing down, along with her breaths.
billie placed her back against the sheets and let out a long, unsteady breath, her eyes finding themselves at the thought of what she just did. but she’s too drunk and too exhausted to care, and she figures that she’ll deal with the repercussions tomorrow. so she flips onto her side, pulls the covers over her, and falls asleep.
✧ 11:05 am, saturday ✧
the dorm was alive with energy, the kind that only comes on a lazy saturday morning when no one’s in a rush to be anywhere. sunlight streamed in through the half-open blinds, casting soft patterns on the carpeted floors as the group sprawled out in various spots around emma’s and your small room. naomi was perched cross-legged on your desk chair, spinning lazily while scrolling through her phone, one earbud in. jules was on the floor, back against the bedframe, fiddling with the frayed edges of her ripped jeans while flipping through some fashion magazine. oliver had claimed the beanbag in the corner, his long legs stretched out in front of him as he leaned back, relaxed. and emma— well, emma was laying half asleep underneath your covers, waking every once in a while when someone would say something funny, and then she’d lay back down.
you sat on your bed, legs tucked underneath you, careful not to disturb emma. your hands clasped around a warm mug of tea, a small comfort, the heat grounding you as your thoughts buzzed louder than the conversation around you. everyone was talking about their plans for the day— emma wanted to hit the library for an upcoming paper, oliver was trying to convince naomi to come with him to a record store downtown, and jules was debating between joining them or staying behind to binge a new show. after individual plans, though, jules insisted that you all hang out and go roller skating, something that the five of you liked to do pretty often. 
“you’re quiet this morning,” naomi said, her voice cutting through the noise as she turned her gaze toward you.
your head snapped up, startled, and you forced a small smile, “i didn’t sleep well at all. just exhausted.”
it wasn’t a lie, you truly hadn’t slept well at all. after the bar fight with billie just shy of three days ago, you weren’t really feeling all that great. you hadn’t talked to her since, and it was both a relief and extremely nauseating. 
you missed her, deep down. but you knew it was an absolutely horrible idea to reach out, and start this sickening process all over again. you were making small but victorious progress, and you really didn’t want to take any chances at ruining that. 
after the fight, you woke up with a headache that made you feel like your forehead was going to split wide open. you threw up twice, your throat burning as you had finally wiped your lips, standing above the toilet and flushing it. emma had held your hair back for you, giving you tips on how to never throw up when hungover, at least for a lightweight like you. but if you were being honest, it didn’t really interest you to get drunk ever again. 
you had prayed and did Bible study for what felt like an eternity. you didn’t hear God speak, but you figured it was because you had strayed off your path, so the fault settled on you. but you wrote in your notebook diligently, said your prayers thoughtfully, and skimmed the pages of your devotionals carefully. in due time, no matter what was going on, you were sure He would answer.
you even called loretta, as you had missed one of your calls when you fell asleep. she was just calling to check in, and she could tell even through the phone that you were doing at least a little better. 
you had to admit, you were proud of yourself for getting back on your feet. or, so it seemed.
it appeared to everyone else like you had somehow become completely fine. and you had, for a solid…five minutes. but, of course, all the doubts and ‘what-ifs’ began to creep back in. 
you weren’t sleeping well at all, which was the first issue. you’d stay up glued to your studies or scrolling on pinterest until your eyes were burning and your skin was sweating from the constant tossing and turning. and when you finally would fall asleep, you’d wake up with headaches or your limbs tense and unstretched. 
you didn’t have the slightest bit of energy to do anything, either. you were doing just enough to keep A’s in all your classes, neglecting most of the extra work that your teachers assigned, only taking the extra mile when absolutely needed. 
but you were masking it well. you took small victories when you could, although, you felt a little empty. you were tighter with your friends, hanging out almost everyday, mainly as a healthy distraction. but sometimes, all you really wanted, was billie. 
you fought tooth and nail not to pick up your phone and call her. to spill every detail of your life out to her, to update her on how things were, even if they weren’t good. it was killing you that you couldn’t speak to her, even if it was a decision that you had made. 
you didn’t like that you had the upper hand in this situation. you wished that it had fell back on billie, because although it was selfish, you really wished that you could have one less thing on your plate. deep down, you honestly wished that you had never met her at all. 
you were doing fine until she came into the picture. though you knew she didn’t mean you any harm, you were picking up the pieces that she caused to crumble, making you spiral and act irrational, something you would’ve never thought about doing in the past.
but it wasn’t all her fault, you couldn’t put the blame on her. you were there too, and you had to take ownership of that, even though it was hard. 
jules and naomi had raised an eyebrow at your statement like they didn’t quite believe you, but they didn’t press. instead, the both turned her attention back to oliver, who was now trying to win the both of them over with promises of coffee and pastries in order to go record shopping with him.
you tried to focus on their loud, happy chatter, to let it pull you out of your own head, but it was no use. your thoughts were stuck, looping in a way that made your chest feel tight.
you thought about two nights ago, about coming out.
the words lingered in your mind, heavy and sharp. it wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it recently, you had, a lot— but thinking about it and actually doing it were two very different things. and with naomi and jules sitting just a few feet away, laughing and joking like nothing was wrong, the weight of it all felt unbearable.
emma and oliver already knew, and were doing exceptionally well at hiding it. they understood that it was something you would share when you were ready, and they vowed to keep quiet about it. naomi and jules were wondering about the awkward tension that was taking place before, as you weren’t texting or calling pretty much at all. but emma just shrugged it off, covering by saying you were going through a rough time and just needed a second to breathe. which, wasn’t all that false. 
you glanced at them, at the easy way they moved through the world, at how free they seemed. naomi, with her loud, unapologetic laugh and her wild hair that framed her face like a halo. jules, with her sharp wit and soft smile that could disarm anyone in an instant. they were your bestest of friends, and yet, the idea of telling them felt impossible.
it wasn’t that you didn’t trust them— you did, more than anyone. but there was this nagging voice in the back of your mind, whispering all the worst-case scenarios, how’d they react. what if they didn’t understand? what if they looked at you differently? what if it changed everything?
and then there was your faith, tangled up in all of it like a knot you couldn’t undo. you’d grown up in the church, surrounded by sermons and scripture and songs that painted the world beautifully, but it was in black and white. you’d been taught that love was normal to desire, it was healthy, but only when it looked a certain way, fit into a certain mold. anything outside of that was wrong, sinful, unworthy.
you swallowed hard, the taste of the tea suddenly bitter on your tongue. it wasn’t that you didn’t believe anymore— you still did, in your own way. but reconciling your faith with who you were, with how you felt, was a battle you fought every single day, and it was hard to keep on track, if you were being completely honest. 
“you okay?” naomi’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you looked up to find her watching you, her head tilted slightly in concern.
“yeah,” you said quickly, forcing another smile. “just zoning out. i need to get out of this dorm room.”
she seemed to accept that, nodding as she turned back to oliver, who was now listing off his favorite bands like his life depended on it.
you let out a quiet breath, grateful for the reprieve, but still feeling the weight in your chest.
emma caught your eye from across the room, her expression soft but questioning. she always seemed to know when something was off, even if she didn’t say it out loud, which was needed sometimes. it was one of the reasons you’d told her first, days prior, in the quiet of this very room. she’d taken it well, better than you’d expected, and you were thankful for that. but even her quiet support wasn’t enough to silence the doubts that clawed at you.
the conversation in the room shifted again, this time to lunch plans, and you nodded along when someone suggested the diner a few blocks away, your group’s spot. looks were shared between all of you, and it seemed like everyone had remembered that night that billie came in. but when you smile, and assured them that it was okay to go, they carried on. but your mind was still elsewhere, caught between the fear of staying silent and the terror of speaking up.
you wondered what it would feel like to finally let it out, to let them see all of you. would it be freeing? or would it be just as heavy, just as hard, but in a different way?
“alright, you sure you’re good?” emma asked quietly, leaning closer so only you could hear.
you nodded, your grip tightening around your mug as you took your last swig, the warmth making you feel slightly more at ease, “i’m okay, really,” you said softly, “i’m honestly just… thinking. you know how it is.”
she didn’t push, just gave you a small nod of understanding before straightening up again, making sure to include you in the conversation between the five of you.
“alright, i really think we should just go skating,” jules advocates from her spot on the floor, closing her magazine, “we all love skating. why don’t we do that?”
“because naomi here is like bambi on wheels.” oliver snorts, pointing to the purple-haired girl, and she gifts him a well-deserved, playful slap to the arm. 
emma nods, “i don’t think skating’s a bad idea, i’m down. everyone’s already ready, so, when are we heading out?”
“just need to get dressed, and then we can go.” you say, pulling the covers off of your frame, standing up and heading over to your dresser. you fumble around for something to wear as the four behind you discuss what’s for lunch, and things of that sort. you eventually settle on a jean skirt and a white top to match, with a baby pink cardigan thrown over it. you turn around and show the group your outfit, holding the pieces up to your body to provide something to the imagination, “this cute?”
“adorable!” naomi grins, and the others agree, too, and oliver gives you a sweet thumbs up, which makes you smile. you grab your phone off of your desk and slip into emma’s room, since you figure that changing in there would take less time than walking to the bathrooms.
you close the door behind you, and you look around for a second. emma’s room is a complete contrast to yours— cheetah printed blankets, posters of lana del rey and other singers hung up on her walls, right next to her deep red electric guitar and shelves of different sneakers and expensive handbags. she had a bookcase dedicated to anything but books, it was mostly filled with perfumes, fashion mags, and candles. her desk was a mess, makeup everywhere, and trash anywhere but in the bin, but you admired her style. it was an oddly warm comfort to you, the difference of style, and that’s what you always loved about emma�� she was so unlike you, and yet, you two were the perfect set of friends. 
you found her mirror and stood in front of it, slipping off your matching pj set and quickly sliding today’s outfit on. you fixed your hair and toyed with the ends, curling them around your fingers to give their already kinky state a little bit more bounce. 
when you were satisfied with your appearance, you twisted the doorknob and stepped out, doing a little twist for the group as they all cheered. you felt more welcomed than ever— appreciated, accepted, and you wanted it to stay like that, like how it always was. 
but with this huge secret (although it wasn’t so huge, because emma and oliver knew), you didn’t know how long this would last. you were going to latch onto it as long as you could, hoping and praying that when the time came, you would still be loved as you were, before everything went down. 
you knew your best friends, they wouldn’t really care all that much, but it would just be so unexpected coming from you. were you ready for that, truly? were you ready to live out the things you had always felt? you weren’t too sure now. 
you walked back over to your desk, slipping your nearly dead phone into your bag as you leaned against the edge of it, trying to find some sort of calm. the room was filled with chatter, naomi arguing with jules over whether or not they should try the new sandwich spot downtown or stick to the diner, and oliver chiming in with some random fact about artisan bread that seemed nice to try. emma was scrolling through her phone, half-listening but still throwing in a laugh here and there. it was so normal, nothing out of the blue, but you felt this strange ache in your chest.
you thought about how emma and oliver already knew that you were a lesbian, how it had felt like peeling off a bandage and exposing something raw when you’d told them just a few days ago. emma had hugged you tight, whispering that she was proud of you, and oliver had just nodded, his usual soft, understanding smile on his face, cracking jokes back and forth with you. but then, that night after billie called you, it all hit you like a wave.
you didn’t mean to hang up so abruptly. you wanted to hear her out at first, but you quickly realized that it wasn’t a good idea. emma had urged you to hang up, and you did with no hesitation, suddenly realizing that answering in itself was a mistake. 
it wracked your brain for the rest of the night, and it bothered you badly that you couldn’t talk to billie. you felt like at least one more conversation could help, but it was too late for that, and you had to put yourself first. so you put your phone up for the night, falling asleep not to long after emma did. 
and then, you cried. 
but not about billie. about your friends.
it wasn’t even that you were scared of rejection. you knew naomi and jules loved you like family, and you couldn’t imagine them turning their backs on you. but it was the shift you feared— this tiny, delicate balance being thrown off, even if just for a moment. you hated being the reason things felt different. you hated the idea of anyone looking at you like you were someone else now.
your fingers toyed with the strap of your bag as the thought settled in your mind like an unwelcome guest. it wasn’t fair, really, how much weight this little not-so-big secret carried. it was supposed to feel freeing, like shedding an old skin that didn’t fit anymore, blossoming into something new, and much more beautiful. but instead, it felt like walking on a tightrope, praying you wouldn’t fall and drag everyone else down with you. you couldn’t let that happen again.
emma’s voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to the moment. “you okay?” she mouthed, her brows knitting together slightly. it’s all she seemed to ask now, but you appreciated the sentiment. you nodded quickly, offering a small smile to reassure her, but the way she tilted her head told you she wasn’t convinced. she didn’t push you, though, she just gave you that look that said i’m here when you’re ready.
and you wanted to be ready, for all of it. for the conversations, the questions, the vulnerability, all the jokes that would be cracked. you wanted to be able to say everything with confidence, to look at yourself in the mirror and feel like you weren’t hiding anymore, like you were proud to be just the way you were. but there was still that small, stubborn part of you that whispered, what if you’re wrong? what if this isn’t who you’re supposed to be? is a phase, something that will pass when the time comes?
you pushed the thought aside, swallowing hard as you forced yourself to focus on the present. the laughter in the room, the warmth of your friends, the way everyone was bickering about oliver’s odd knowledge about sandwiches and bread. you let yourself laugh, even if it felt a little hollow, because you were sure, slowly yet surely, it would make you feel better.
you’d hold onto this moment, this fragile, fleeting sense of normalcy. you’d hold onto it for as long as you could, and when the time came to tell them, you’d trust that naomi and jules would still love you, still see you the same way that they always did. at least, that’s what you prayed for. and lately, that was all you could do.
“okay, so are we ready to go, or are we gonna argue about sandwiches all day?” emma said, rolling her eyes with a grin as she grabbed her keys off of your nightstand, standing up to dust off her wide legged jeans. naomi and jules were still in a heated, albeit playful teasing sesh against oliver, and he was just sitting on the arm of the couch, shaking his head at them.
“for the record,” he interjected, raising his hand like he was in a courtroom, “the sandwich shop idea isn’t bad. but if we’re talking about lunch and activities, why not just roller skating now? we can grab lunch and still get dinner at the diner. there’s that rink a few blocks from here, and they’ve got a food court with, you know, options. not just flavorless-ass bread that’s probably already stale.” he gave a pointed look at naomi and jules.
“skating?” you repeated, “okay, yeah, i’m down.”
“me too,” emma said, already grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder, “besides, i can’t wait to see naomi bust her ass out there. wouldn’t be the first time we’ve seen that, hm?”
naomi gasped, clutching her chest dramatically, “okay, excuse me! i have impeccable balance, so thank you very much.”
“uh-huh,” jules snorted, already pulling her jacket on, zipping it up as she let out a mocking laugh, “we’ll see how long that lasts when you’re out there, bambi.”
the group laughed as you all filed out of the dorm, everyone grabbing their belongings as you closed and locked the door behind you, and then the walk started. emma, jules and naomi walked up front, while you and oliver retreated to the back, following close behind them. you heard easy banter filling the air as you all walked outside, stepping out into the cool air, though the warm sun gave hints of a warmer afternoon. 
“how are you feeling?” oliver asked you as you walked, his eyes glancing down to meet with yours. they were glossed over with concern, but it was out of love, so you spoke honestly. 
“good, overall, i think. i really have no complaints— i just…you know. i get into my own head sometimes.”
oliver nods at you, “i get that. just remember, i’m always here if you need something, ‘girlfriend.’” he nudges your arm on that last part, and you shake your head at him, though you can’t help but laugh.
the walk to the skating rink was a short one, but it was peaceful. occasionally, everyone would turn around and talk, and jules would sometimes snap a picture of a cool tree or pretty flowers on her digital camera. you stayed toward the back of the group, letting their energy pull you along while you kept to your thoughts.
when you all arrived at the rink, the hum of retro music and the buzz of people skating hit you instantly, accompanied with the smell of pretzels and store-bought pizzas. the place had an old-school charm— bright neon signs, colorful lights that reflected off the fresh, polished floor, and rows of skates lined up behind the counter as employees waved the five of you in. 
“this is gonna be so fun!” naomi cheered, her face lighting up as she clapped her hands together. she then looked at emma, who seemed all but convinced that naomi would stay on her feet, “and just for the record, i’m gonna be the best one out there. no questions asked.”
“uh huh, yeah— you’re really committed to this narrative, huh naomi?” emma teased as she slipped a ticket across the counter in exchange for her inlines, “we’ll see how you do, but don’t cry when i’m doing laps around you while your ass is super-glued to the floor.”
everyone laughed at that as they grabbed their skates, and you were last to do so. you grabbed a pair of quads and took a seat on the bench, slipping them onto your feet carefully. emma was already up and skating around, practicing whatever tricks that she had hidden up her sleeve. 
whenever she had to clear her head, she’d go to the rink— something she had been doing since she was younger. that’s where you learned how to skate, from emma’s constant visits to your rink back home, and it felt like that you had a hobby you could both share.
when everyone was ready, the group shuffled out onto the rink, the polished floor gleaming beneath the flashing lights. it was awkward at first, your legs feeling wobbly and unsure as you gripped the railing for support. it wasn’t that you didn’t know how to skate, it had just been so long, but you picked up your pace when emma and jules grabbed both your sides and forced you out onto the floor. 
“you got this!” jules had said, and then you three were off, hands laced within one another’s, skating rhythmically to some old song that was playing on the speakers above.
“look at you!” emma called out, gliding up beside you with ease after you and jules had broke off, skating at your own pace. you were twisting and turning like you usually did, the art becoming more comfortable to you, and you were enjoying yourself.  “you’re not even holding on to the wall anymore! i’m so proud.”
“yeah, yeah,” you said, laughing as you pushed off your right food little harder, gaining more speed with each loop around the rink, “just don’t jinx it.”
everyone was pretty much skating alone now. you were doing your usual thing, crossing your feet and gliding side to side to the music, which was always fun for you. emma was on a roll— skating backwards between crowds of people, hopping on her feet, taking her party tricks to the extra mile. jules and oliver were racing, as they always did— and of course, jules won, also as always. 
meanwhile, naomi was loudly declaring herself the queen of skating, much to jules’s amusement as she stumbled and nearly fell. you tried to contain your laughter, but you had to admit, it was pretty funny the way she swore up and down she was the best out of the group, though she hadn’t even found herself making a full lap around the floor yet.
you were skating peacefully as a new song came on, something by stevie wonder, which you liked. you started to slow down and accommodate to the blue-sy rhythm, but then, as you rounded the far side of the rink, your eyes caught a figure near the edge. your breath hitched in your throat, your heart dropping to your stomach. it was billie.
God, could you ever get away from this girl?
she was sitting on a bench, tying her skates with that familiar furrow of concentration on her face. her hair was pulled into one of the messiest buns you had ever seen, even for her, though a few pieces effortlessly accented her face around the sides. she was wearing a loose sweatshirt and a pair of shorts so long that you couldn’t tell if they were supposed to be like that. but, to your surprise, she was alone.
panic flared in your chest, and if you weren’t as comfortable with skating, you were sure that you would’ve fallen. your mind was racing as you quickly turned your head away, trying to keep her from seeing you. the last thing you needed was another interaction, another moment where she could belittle you, looking at you with that stupid grin that never seemed to leave her face, like she was always teasing you for something. 
you skated past her as casually as you could manage, your heart pounding in your chest. you felt like you were going to burst, like your breath was stolen right out of your lungs. you heaved as you looked in front of you, where your friends were still laughing and teasing each other, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in your stomach.
you felt sick.
you risked a glance over your shoulder, relief washing over you when you saw that billie hadn’t noticed you. she was still focused on her skates, completely oblivious to your presence. which, you definitely wanted to keep it that way.
you tried to focus on your friends, on the way naomi shrieked as she nearly toppled over again, after falling nearly ten times already, but she was saved only by oliver’s quick reflexes as he grabbed her arm. 
“you owe me for that,” he teased, smirking at her as she tried to compose herself, tucking a strand behind her ear.
“whatever, i was totally fine. i could’ve gotten back up.” naomi huffed, wiping a few particles of dust off of her shirt as she stood up.
“sure you were,” jules said, rolling up beside her, her grin wide and mischievous, “next time, maybe we should get you those little kid trainers, you know, the ones with wheels on all four corners? seems pretty fitting if you ask me.”
“you’re all so mean to me!” naomi cried dramatically, though the laughter bubbling in her voice gave her away. she didn’t mind that she couldn’t skate all that well, truthfully, but it was always fun to mess around for a while. 
the lightness of their banter helped ease some of the tension in your chest, and for a moment, you let yourself get swept up in it. emma had started a race with jules now, the two of them zipping around the rink in an uncoordinated blur, while oliver stayed back with naomi, coaching her like a patient older brother, though she still wasn’t quite getting it.
you skated in slow, deliberate circles, careful not to look in billie’s direction again. you didn’t want to tempt fate, not again.
but it wasn’t just fear that made you keep your distance. it was the weight of everything you’d been trying to leave behind— the fight, the tears, the way her voice still lingered in your head, sharp and biting, but also soft in ways that made your chest ache.
you couldn’t reminisce on that though. you had to stay focused on what really mattered, and it wasn’t billie. it was you, your happiness, your walk with God, and everything else that surrounded that. you didn’t have time to pick more stupid fights with her, when she would not and could not ever understand where you were coming from.
“you’re doing great, by the way,” oliver called out, snapping you out of your spiraling thoughts. he had left naomi with emma, though her coaching wasn’t as gentle. your eyes immediately find oliver’s as he skates with you, and you cock your brow at him, still nervous.
“what…what do you mean?” you ask.
oliver rolls his eyes, “i saw her. the others didn’t, and don’t worry, i won’t snitch. but just ignore her, for your own sake. you deserve nothing but peace right now, so don’t let her disturb that.”
“right, yeah.” you nod, but it sounds weak, even to your own ears. you’re just moving, fighting for a distraction, focusing on finding a steady rhythm again. the music shifted to something slower, softer, and the lights dimmed slightly, casting the rink in a warm glow. couples started pairing off, holding hands as they skated together, little holographic, neon hearts sliding against the wooden floors.
“ugh, so cute it’s disgusting,” emma squeaked, skating up beside you and nodding toward one particularly affectionate pair to your right. they were adorable, two girls holding hands and skating identically together. however, it made your chest cave in when one girl was wearing bright, pretty soft hues, while the other was wearing deep blacks and purples, a huge contrast to her girlfriend.
it felt like you and billie, in a way, and you almost gag at that. it seemed like everything reminded you of her, and you didn’t know how much longer you could take it. 
“don’t be a hater,” jules chimed in, coming up on your other side, an easy distraction. you ease up as she teases emma, “maybe you’ll find someone to hold hands with one day, em. miracles happen, i’ll make a phone call to the angels for you, see what they can do.”
“very funny,” emma said, rolling her eyes. “i’m holding out for someone who can actually keep up with me, thank you very much.”
“wait, what happened with that guy i saw you with?” you questioned, hoping that the conversation would flow in a way that would make you forget about seeing billie.
“oh gosh, where do i even begin,” emma dragged on, and that’s when you knew that your plan was in motion. she babbled on about how he was a player and had no common sense, and something about how she didn’t like that he had bed covers with patrick mahomes’ face on it. which, you really didn’t know what that had to do with anything, but you just let her talk.
but then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw her again. billie.
she was on the rink now, skating slowly, her movements a little awkward like she wasn’t used to it. she was smiling, though— a small, quiet smile that tugged at something deep in your chest.
a smile that you missed.
you swallowed hard, your heart pounding loudly in your chest all over again. she still hadn’t noticed you, thank God, but just seeing her was enough to unsettle you completely, working your nerves right back up.
“you good?” emma asked you, nudging your shoulder lightly.
“yeah,” you said quickly, though your voice was too high-pitched to be convincing. you cleared your throat, forcing a smile out as you turned a corner, “just... distracted, i guess.”
emma tilted her head, studying you for a moment, but she didn’t ask anymore questions, “well, let me know if you need a distraction from your distraction.” she said with a wink before skating off to join the others.
you stayed where you were, finding refuge in a wall, letting the others drift ahead. your gaze flickered to billie again, despite yourself, and you wondered— just for a second— if she was thinking about you, too. if she had seen you.
but then she turned, skating toward the far side of the rink, and you quickly looked away, pulling your hair over the side of your face in hopes that she wouldn’t recognize you, if her eyes had somehow found their way to make out who you were, even though you were on the complete opposite side of the roller rink.
you skated to the edge of the opposite wall, trying to put as much distance between yourself and billie as possible. your heart was still pounding, your thoughts racing as you fought the urge to look back over your shoulder, to get one more glimpse, even though you knew you’d regret it.
so you didn’t. because the last thing you needed was for her to notice you.
but then, a sharp pang of anxiety hit you. what if she did see you? what if she thought you were alone, vulnerable, still hung up on everything that happened between you two? it felt irrational, but the idea of her pitying you— or worse, thinking she still had some sort of hold over you— made your stomach churn. you couldn’t let her have that type of victory over you. you were in control, not her.
your eyes scanned the spot that you were in, and then you spotted oliver across the rink, helping naomi wobble along the railing. relief washed over you— oliver was the perfect shield, the one person who could make you look completely unbothered and perfectly fine. after all, he was supposed to be your ‘boyfriend’ now, wasn’t he?
you pushed off the wall, skating toward him as steadily as you could.
 “ollie!” 
he turned around when he heard your voice, his face lighting up when he saw you, “hey, what’s up?”
you skated up beside him, lowering your voice so only he could hear, though your request wasn’t all that abnormal, “okay, this is going to sound weird, but… can you hold my hand?”
he blinked, tilting his head, “uh, sure? what’s going on? is it…?”
you hesitated, glancing over your shoulder to make sure billie was still on the far side of the rink. you looked back at him, “yeah,” you whispered quietly, “and i just— i don’t want her to think… you know, that i’m…”
“still hung up on her?” oliver finished your dead sentence for you, his expression softening with understanding.
you nodded, biting your lip, “i just need her to see that i’m fine. better than fine, even. like… totally over it.”
he smiled gently, reaching out to take your hand. “yup, fake dating duty. got it.”
you felt a small wave of relief as his hand slid into yours, warm and steady. oliver gave it a reassuring squeeze, and you squeezed back, grateful as ever for how quickly he reacted, how eager he was to help you with no complaints.
“you owe me for this, by the way.” he teased as he started skating beside you, his tone lighthearted, and you knew that it was only jokes.
you snorted, “yeah right. just put it on my tab.” 
naomi shot the two of you a curious look as you passed her idle spot next to the wall, “okay, wait, are we holding hands now? did i miss something?”
“we’re practicing for the couples skate,” oliver said smoothly, his tone so casual that even you almost believed him. it was a good lie, one that would hold over your little secret until it forced itself out. and now, now wasn’t really the time for it.
naomi narrowed her eyes, but jules came barreling toward her before she could press further, their laughter echoing across the rink.
you felt a little more at ease now, skating alongside oliver, your hand laced within his. your heart still raced every time you thought about billie, about everytime that you saw her around the rink. but having him there grounded you, reminded you that you weren’t alone.
you cast one more glance toward the far side of the rink, where billie was still skating. her focus was elsewhere, thank God, it was on anything but you.
you exhaled softly, squeezing oliver’s hand again. he looked down at you, raising an eyebrow, “feeling better?”
“yeah,” you said quietly through a smile, “thanks, ollie.”
before he could pay your statement back with a ‘you’re welcome’, you hear jules, naomi, and emma all agree that it’s time to head out and grab some food. they had apparently decided that eating at the diner for lunch was a better idea, saving time to possibly go downtown or go somewhere for dessert and take pictures. so, you and oliver followed accordingly, hopping off the floor and returning your skates to the counter.
as everyone slipped on their shoes and grabbed their things, jules went right back to her teasing of naomi, “so, did you fall?”
“i’m too hungry to argue with you.” she laughed, sliding her tote bag onto her shoulders as the group made their way outside, walking to the diner.
౨ৎ
the diner felt like a sanctuary at first, a bubble of warmth and laughter that protected you from the turmoil brewing just beneath your skin. the clatter of plates, the hum of the jukebox playing some old 50s song, and the low din of chatter around you all made it easy to pretend, just for a little while, that everything was okay, even if it was nothing but that.
you were wedged between emma and the wall in your usual spot, picking at the remains of your burger while naomi recounted some story about her boss at work, who she thought was all types of dreamy. oliver and jules were hanging on her every word, laughing at all the right moments, and emma was chiming in with her usual quick-witted commentary. it should have felt normal, comforting, just like how it was in your dorm this morning. but it didn’t.
you couldn’t stop replaying the moment at the rink. the way billie had looked— so familiar, yet so distant. and, to be honest, it kind of bothered you.
it hurt that you would have to see her around so much, way more often than you would like. it’s like all your hangout spots were hers too, and it was inevitable to get away from her. but you had to try, at least— try and heal from your wounds, try and forget everything that had happened and turn a new leaf. and you knew it would be hard, but you were going to work on it, because you owed it to yourself. you owed it to yourself to be happy.
you were about to take another bite of your burger when the bell above the door jingled, and your heart dropped. you didn’t even need to look to know who it was. the shift in the air was enough. you had felt it before, back at the bar, and earlier in the roller rink. you knew it was her.
but of course, you being you, you looked anyway.
and there she was. 
her presence was like a punch to the gut, a mix of anger, longing, and something else you couldn’t quite place. she looked almost the same as she had at the rink— disheveled, guarded— but her eyes were sharper now, the playful nature of skating long gone.
your stomach twisted and screamed as her gaze landed on your booth, just to your luck. her jaw tightened, her lips pressing into a thin line as her eyes locked on you.
“oh no,” emma muttered under her breath, her fork pausing mid-air, “are you serious?”
“is that…?” jules started, but oliver kicked her under the table, shooting her a warning look, and her lips pursed quiet at that.
you quickly looked away, pretending to be engrossed in the fine lines of ketchup bottle on the table, but it was too late. billie was already walking over to you, her strut quick and strong, like she already had what she wanted to say and do in mind.
“can we talk?” she said once she reached your table, her voice low and tight, standing awkwardly next to your booth.
you placed your head in your hands as everyone went silent, their eyes darting between you and billie like they were watching a live fight scene. and honestly, you knew that’s where it was heading.
but there was nothing you could do. you couldn’t escape, she was here now, so you might as well engage, because there was no other way out of this.
“you want to talk here?” you asked, your voice sharp.
“no,” she clarified, crossing her arms over her chest, “outside.”
“you don’t have to go, love.” oliver said, quiet, but loud enough to where billie could hear. he knew that you needed this— a way out, a cover-up, even if she wasn’t buying it right this second. you felt his hand brush against yours under the table for added effect, though he was unsure if billie could see you two.
but you knew you couldn’t avoid this forever. so, with a heavy sigh, you slid out of the booth, avoiding everyone’s longing and confused looks as you started to walk, following billie out of the door.
the late afternoon air hit you like a slap to the face, much like the way billie had strutted in the diner, demanding a piece of your time like she was the one that owned it. she stopped a few feet away from the entrance, her back to you as she ran a hand through her hair.
“okay, what do you want, billie?” you asked, crossing your arms to mirror her, “i don’t have time for this, be quick and get straight to the point. i don’t even want to be talking to you right now.”
lie.
she turned to face you, her eyes dark and stormy, “honestly, i just want to know why. why you couldn’t just talk to me. why you couldn’t just tell me what was going on, instead of doing all…of this.”
“are you serious?” you snapped, your frustration bubbling quickly to the surface, “are you seriously going to ask me this question again like i haven’t already answered it? what else do you want me to say to you? i told you to leave me alone, and i’m not so sure why this can’t get through to you, so i’ll say it again. leave. me. alone!”
her jaw tightened, and she took a step closer to you. her eyes were glossed over with tears, but you didn’t care at all. you were sick of her acting like she was the victim, like you hadn’t asked her countless times you just leave you be. at this point, she was just harassing you. 
“i-i’m sorry…i know, but…i feel like you’re not telling me everything, y/n. i feel so deeply that there’s something you aren’t telling me, like i’m not getting the whole wide of this story…i just, i needed to know—“
“i don’t owe you explanations about my own life,” you shot back, “why can’t you just give up on me, like you did back at the bar? why can’t you just let me live my life without showing up at the most random times, without making me feel like i’m the one that’s crazy, huh?” 
“give up on you?” billie repeated, her voice cracking. she was full on tears now, “do you have any idea how hard it was to leave? how much it killed me to walk away?”
you flinched at the raw emotion in her voice, but you didn’t back down. she couldn’t phase you now, “if it was so hard, why did you do it?”
“because i didn’t know what else to do!” she shouted, her hands balling into fists at her sides, “you wouldn’t let me in, and i was fucking drowning. i couldn’t keep—”
“couldn’t keep what?” you interrupted, stepping closer now, your own anger flaring, “couldn’t keep dealing with me? with my problems? sorry i wasn’t perfect enough for you, billie, but you knew what you were getting yourself into, it was obvious.” 
“that’s not what i meant,” she said, her voice quieter now but no less intense, “and you know it. you know that’s not how i felt about you.” 
“then what did you mean?” you pressed, your heart pounding in your chest, “i mean, do tell billie, because i’ve been waiting for this. tell me what you really wanna say, because you’re doing nothing but wasting my time.” 
she opened her mouth to respond, but then her gaze flicked behind your back, back toward the diner. you followed her line of sight and saw your friends watching from the window, their faces a mix of concern and curiosity, leaning in so close in hopes that they could hear what was going on. 
billie’s expression shifted, her anger giving way to something softer, something almost vulnerable, like she really was going to tell you how she felt. but just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by a mask of indifference, confusion, of something unsure. 
“you know what? forget it,” she said, shaking her head at you, “this was a mistake. you were right.” 
and then she turned on her heel without a word, and started walking away, her boots echoing against the pavement as she started towards her car. 
“billie, wait,” you called after her, your voice trembling, but it was no use. 
she didn’t stop. she didn’t even look back, and for the first time, you really wish she did. 
you wanted to hear what she had to say, but you weren’t ready. you couldn’t handle all of that, but you thought you could at least try. but now, it was too late. 
it was always too late. 
you stood there, frozen, your fists clenched and your chest heaving as you watched her disappear into the driver’s seat of her car, cranking up the engine and speeding out of her parking spot. 
your friends were still watching from the window, but you couldn’t bring yourself to face them. instead, you turned around and leaned against the wall of the diner, your head falling back as you stared up at the sky.
you wanted to scream, to cry, to do something about this, but all you could do was stand there, the weight of her words and your own anger pressing down on you like a weighted blanket.
and then, you heard the door to the diner swing opened, a voice pushing out into the empty air, 
“i promise you, despite as much as you think you are, you and billie are far from done.” 
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rosenclaws · 2 days ago
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HIII you don’t know how happy i am to have stumbled on your treasure chest of an account 😭 the way you portray characters is exactly how i’ve imagined them!!! especially leopold ♥️ i’m so glad there’s an active writer for him who writes so beautifully!!
i was hoping to request a fluff fic for leopold where reader teaches kids (5-7 yrs old) and leo visits reader at their workplace. the kids do know of readers few/past boyfriends and they weren’t too fond of any of them, but they really really love leo 🫂 reader does like leo but is unaware the feelings are mutual, so the kids help leo out in trying to win their heart ♥️ (and maybe work in the element of daisies? they’re reader’s/my fave flower lolol)
she/her pronouns are good but you can also do gn! thank ü sm ⭐️ hope you’re having a great day!!!
a/n: Truth be told I've been neglecting Leopold. I've written so much Logan and I love Logan but Leopold is who truly captured my heart. I'm a little rusty but I hope you like it!! Also DAMN HES SO HANDSOME ITS CRIMINAL
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Of all the days to be running late today was possibly the worst. You completely forgot about a very important meeting and you could not be late for it. You were scrambling around your apartment when someone knocks at the door.
Not the time.
As you grab your bag you throw open the door to see Leopold standing there. A smile on his face as he greets you good morning. Though he quickly notices your rushed and panicked face.
“Are you ready for coffee?”
“Hi Leo, I’m so sorry I forgot I have this meeting and I’m already late and-“ Leopold places his hands on your arms, getting you to stop moving. You feel a warmth spread through your body from his touch.
“It’s alright darling, we can go another time.” He flashes that perfect smile and for a second you hesitate to move. But you really can’t be late.
“Thank you, you can hang out here if you want. Bye Leo.” You rush past him and he just smiles. He thinks you’re adorable when you’re flustered like that.
Truth be told Leopold doesn’t like coffee. He finds it bitter and gross and nothing compared to the wonders of tea. But when he met you and you had asked him to coffee. He just couldn’t say no.
You were one of Kate’s friends from college and ever since that day he had become entranced by you. So he sat through sipping coffee if it meant he got to speak to you. He notices a bag sitting on your counter. Furrowing his brows he takes it and looks inside. It’s your lunch. He frowns when he sees the processed food and quite unhealthy snacks inside. He knows you’re busy but he’s talked to you about this. You’re a very busy women and he worries about your habits and health. He tosses the bag in the fridge and heads out. Determined to make sure you get your lunch.
”Alright class! Finish up your drawings so we can have story time!” You announce to your students who were very deep into their artworks. There was paint all over your smock and glitter everywhere. Your stomach growls and you groan as you sit down at your desk. You forgot your lunch this morning and you were absolutely starving.
“Miss! I’m finished!” Penny, one of your students, calls. She holds up her artwork with a big toothy grin.
“Beautiful Pen!” You get up and bend down near her desk.
“Why don’t you sign it and we can put it in the back to let it dry.” She nods and messily writes her name in the corner.
There's a loud knock at the door and suddenly one of the admin appears in the doorway. You walk over and see a smirk on her face.
“You have a visitor, a very handsome one.” She whispers that last part as you look over her shoulder and see Leopold.
She leaves and Leopold smiles, you lead him into your class which catches the attention of all your students. He probably looked a little odd all dressed up in his old clothing.
“Leo? What are you doing here?”
“You forgot your lunch.” He hands you a few containers. This was not the lunch you had packed yourself.
“I’ve warned you of the dangers of processed food,” He says with a raised eyebrow.
“I know, I just don’t have a lot of time.” You sigh.
“I am aware, so I made you lunch.” Your heart flutters as you look inside. All the food looks amazing, especially the cookies he knows you love.
"Thank you Leo."
"I've noticed more often than not you don't prepare yourself adequate food," You look down, a little embarrassed at being called out.
"So, I decided I'm going to start making you lunch."
"Oh no you don't have to do that-" You start but he cuts you off. A very determined look on his face.
"I insist, please." The very idea makes your heart burst but its too kind of an offer. But its a really good one.
"Okay fine. But I buy the groceries and only until I can start making them for myself again." He smiles and accepts your conditions.
"I must go, but I will see you tomorrow." He bows his head and leaves your classroom.
He throws you a wink right before he leaves and your heart skips. You feel a tug at your pants and you look down to see one of your students Avery.
"Miss, is he a real prince?" She looks up at him with wide eyes. Avery had been in her princess mood and you can't blame her for thinking Leopold had popped right out of a storybook.
"Uh, no sweetie. He's just a friend of mine."
"But he looks just like a prince! If you marry him you could be a princess and we'd have a princess teacher!" She exclaims.
The class starts to agree with her and you try and calm them down. Thankfully their attention shifts when you pull out a book for story time. You were just thankful they forgot about it, or you thought they had.
Visits from Leopold had become a class staple. He'd show up every day to bring you lunch. When you asked why he didn't just give it to you in the morning he told you that this was much more eventful. The kids became obsessed with him and Leopold fed into their curiosity and imagination with ease.
Eventually you just told the school he was a volunteer so he could stick around more. He became your classes favorite story teller. At first he'd read a book or two but he grew bored of those stories and would retell his favorite stories and plays from his childhood, getting the children to act them out with him. He some how got a room of 6 year old's to give him their undivided attention. That isn't and easy feat.
"Leopold! Can you read this one?" Avery hands him one of her fairytale books.
He's sitting on the ground with the kids all around him. His previous prince like clothing was gone and instead he was dressed more modern. You had to admit you missed the flashy and fancy clothes.
Not that he didn't look good in modern clothing, he looks good in everything. You had a feeling though that Avery and the rest of the class had something up their sleeves. They were far too giggly and had mischievous looks on their faces.
"Of course love. A love story? I do find myself reading these from time to time." As he starts the story he offers someone to come play the prince but no one budges.
"We want you to play him!" Avery says with a giggle. Leopold raises an eyebrow but agrees.
"Alright, now the prince needs to have a princess doesn't he?"
"Miss should be the princess!" One of your other students pipes up.
"Me? I don't know guys I'm not really the best actress." You say but they don't care.
You're half dragged out of your chair and to the front of the room. You sit next to Leo and flash him an apologetic smile. From out of nowhere two kids bring the two of you flower crowns. They must have made them at recesses. It's a little small and Leopold's barely fits on his head but it was cute.
"You know instead of a story we should have a wedding!" Penny pipes up.
"A Wedding? Guys where is this coming from?" You say with a laugh, trying to hide your nerves.
"My mommy said a wedding is what two people who really like each other have!" The kids murmur in agreement and you sigh.
"It's alright darling, why not entertain them for today?" Leopold whispers in your ear.
He seems more than okay with being thrust into a kid planned fake wedding. It was quite amusing watching your students try and figure out what they were supposed to do.
They had cut up some paper and used them as flower petals, which they were going to have to clean up before lunch you noted. It was adorable listening to them talk though, as you sat next to Leo you found yourself unable to hold back your smiles.
"You may now kiss the bride!" Your eyes widen as you shake your head.
"Okay that's enough torturing our friend, its clean up time now." You say, putting a stop before things could go too far.
Not that you didn't want to kiss Leopold, but you didn't want him to feel forced to kiss you because your students put on a fake wedding.
"Awww," A chorus of kids groaned as you sent them back to the desk. Though once the lunch bell rings they all seem to forget their sadness.
"Sorry for all of that, I don't know what got into them." You say as you sit at your desk. Leopold had pulled up a chair right next to you. Your lunch being shared between the two of you.
"It's alright, I enjoyed the wedding." He hums as he picks a daisy from his hair. He twirls it around in his fingers before handing it to you.
"For you, my beautiful bride." You bite your lip as you take the flower from his hand, your skin brushing up against each other.
"Thank you my husband." You stick it behind your ear. Leopold stares lovingly into your eyes and you feel yourself sink under his gaze. It's just so intense, his pretty hazel eyes just make you swoon.
"You know, I would not have been upset if we kissed, for the integrity of the story." He whispers, his hand coming to cup your chin.
"Yeah?" You ask breathlessly as the space between the two of you becomes smaller and smaller.
Could this really be happening? Oh god you hope it was. Your eyes flutter closed as he kisses you. His hand is gentle as his kiss deepens. His lips are soft and he tastes like, like everything fucking perfect.
"I've been trying to court you for some time my love." Leopold confesses as you pull apart.
"Normally I would have given you a letter but, Charlie had told me the sentiment was outdated." You giggle at the thought of a handwritten letter from him declaring his love for you, a very romantic idea you must admit.
"I'm sorry I didn't notice. If I had known, we could have done this a lot sooner."
"That's alright darling, because now we have all the time in the world." Well all the time until 12:30 when the bell rang. For now though, you had him all to yourself.
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brf-rumortrackinganon · 1 day ago
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Even if someone saw Kate getting at the hospital it would be illegal to take pictures of her. Its health privacy. Meanwhile haters has said many times it's a well known secret in Norfolk and. Its not the same. We have seen pictures of the family there many. They also claim that the rota have evidence and they don't post it because William is so powerful 🙄 British said they didn't publish any photo of Catherine while recovering from her surgery but that didn't stop TMZ to buy a picture. If anyone had any evidence all this years they could have sell it to American media. Yet nothing. Even Fred was caught in Spain
That's an important, key part: Just because British media made a deal with the Cambridges/Waleses doesn't mean everyone else made a deal. After all, French media published the topless photos, US media published the car ride-with-Carole photo. I feel like Italian media and German media also got photos once, but I'm drawing a blank. (Was it German media that got the photos of Kate and Louis in traffic?)
Given the way reporters of all kinds were crawling all over Norfolk - British and international - once the affair rumor started, if it was true/really happening, then someone absolutely would've found a real receipt. But they didn't. It was all social media gossip.
Also, I do think British media (or the rota, at least) knew they really forked up with the Mother's Day photo fiasco when KP changed their media strategy for personal photos with Louis's and Charlotte's birthdays. So if they were aware of Kate receiving treatment at Royal Marsden, if they were approached about bystander photos, if they did see/know of Kate being out and about, they had every incentive to keep their mouths shut, cameras off, and pens down - to get back on KP's good side so KP would go back to the "old" media strategy where the rota benefited with first dibs and exclusive access.
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heavensbeehall · 2 days ago
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Letter from Donald Sutherland to director Gary Ross, after reading the script for "The Hunger Games"
Dear Gary Ross:  Power. That's what this is about? Yes? Power and the forces that are manipulated by the powerful men and bureaucracies trying to maintain control and possession of that power?  Power perpetrates war and oppression to maintain itself until it finally topples over with the bureaucratic weight of itself and sinks into the pages of history (except in Texas), leaving lessons that need to be learned unlearned.   Power corrupts, and, in many cases, absolute power makes you really horny. Clinton, Chirac, Mao, Mitterrand.  Not so, I think, with Coriolanus Snow. His obsession, his passion, is his rose garden. There's a rose named Sterling Silver that's lilac in colour with the most extraordinarily powerful fragrance — incredibly beautiful — I loved it in the seventies when it first appeared. They've made a lot of offshoots of it since then.   I didn't want to write to you until I'd read the trilogy and now I have so: roses are of great importance. And Coriolanus's eyes. And his smile. Those three elements are vibrant and vital in Snow. Everything else is, by and large, perfectly still and ruthlessly contained. What delight she [Katniss] gives him. He knows her so perfectly. Nothing, absolutely nothing, surprises him. He sees and understands everything. He was, quite probably, a brilliant man who's succumbed to the siren song of power.  How will you dramatize the interior narrative running in Katniss's head that describes and consistently updates her relationship with the President who is ubiquitous in her mind? With omniscient calm he knows her perfectly. She knows he does and she knows that he will go to any necessary end to maintain his power because she knows that he believes that she's a real threat to his fragile hold on his control of that power. She's more dangerous than Joan of Arc.  Her interior dialogue/monologue defines Snow. It's that old theatrical turnip: you can't 'play' a king, you need everybody else on stage saying to each other, and therefore to the audience, stuff like "There goes the King, isn't he a piece of work, how evil, how lovely, how benevolent, how cruel, how brilliant he is!" The idea of him, the definition of him, the audience's perception of him, is primarily instilled by the observations of others and once that idea is set, the audience's view of the character is pretty much unyielding. And in Snow's case, that definition, of course, comes from Katniss.  Evil looks like our understanding of the history of the men we're looking at. It's not what we see: it's what we've been led to believe. Simple as that. Look at the face of Ted Bundy before you knew what he did and after you knew.   Snow doesn't look evil to the people in Panem's Capitol. Bundy didn't look evil to those girls. My wife and I were driving through Colorado when he escaped from jail there. The car radio's warning was constant. 'Don't pick up any young men. The escapee looks like the nicest young man imaginable'. Snow's evil shows up in the form of the complacently confident threat that's ever-present in his eyes. His resolute stillness. Have you seen a film I did years ago? 'The Eye of the Needle'. That fellow had some of what I'm looking for. The woman who lived up the street from us in Brentwood came over to ask my wife a question when my wife was dropping the kids off at school. This woman and her husband had seen that movie the night before and what she wanted to know was how my wife could live with anyone who could play such an evil man. It made for an amusing dinner or two but part of my wife's still wondering. I'd love to speak with you whenever you have a chance so I can be on the same page with you. They all end up the same way. Welcome to Florida, have a nice day!
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Been thinking about this a lot, mostly in regards to his notions on power.
But it's also quiet cool that he basically predicted the plot of TBOSAS before it came out. Snow's obsessive tendencies. The way he thinks love makes him weak. How he sees Katniss as like himself.
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sentientgolfball · 3 days ago
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Thinking about Dewdrop and his hair
Dew’s physical appearance, especially his hair, has always been important to him. There has been so little in his unnatural life that he has had control over, but how he looked was always one of them. Even in the Pits when he was chased out of his pack, he continued to take the absolute best care of his hair. It means he is still alive and he still can control something, even when everything else has gone to absolute shit.
The elemental transition took a number on him. Yes it was entirely his choice, but he wasn’t prepared for how going from water to fire would affect his health. And how he proceeded his emotions. Fire is an element of passion and energy. He started to feel everything more. Everything was so intense. Combine that with the horrible bouts of pain he’d experience because of the physical changes and it often led to explosions.
One of these explosions came after taking a long hot bath, trying to soothe the deep ache in his muscles. He just stared and stared at his reflection. He would tell anyone who asked how much better he felt looking at himself, but in that moment all he saw was imperfection. Because he zeroed in on his hair. It got damaged in the ritual. Burnt. A strange yellowish color instead of snow white, like a piece of paper left in the sun. He hated it. His hair was so important him and now it was gross and disgusting. It wasn’t soft anymore, it wasn’t his anymore. It made him sad and angry and without even thinking he cut it all off.
When the fire finally stopped blazing and he saw what he had done he was devastated. He loved his long hair. And now it lay in strands in the sink and on the floor. He went from angry to upset so fast that he didn’t even realize he was sobbing until he started choking on air.
When his hair started to grow back, it came in black. Luckily by this time he was more used to his fire so he was more in control of his emotions. Things were starting to balance out. But that doesn’t mean he liked it. He actually kind of hated it. He loved his lighter hair and seeing himself with black hair just felt wrong.
So when his hair was finally long enough to put up again, he started to bleach it. Things still felt out of place with the Cardinal and Ifrit and Zephyr retiring and all these new ghouls. But he could do this. He could change his hair color and be in control of something.
Even in the present he still bleaches his hair. It’s become a ritual to him. Even if nothing crazy is happening, it still helps him find his center and know that no matter what there will always be something in his life that he can control. Aether and Sunny left the band but he can take care of his hair. Copia is Frater now but he can still take care of his hair. A new Papa will be leading them across the world but he can still take care of his hair.
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raimispiderman · 15 hours ago
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Yeah, I feel that people have not engaged with this poll in good faith. Looking through the blog, it seems that people really seem to vote depending on what movies are fashionable at the time, so old Marvel blockbusters are right out.
But no, the Raimi Spider-Man movies don't hate women. The Raimi Spider-Man FANDOM (present company excepted) hates women, and I feel people are conflating the two.
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In Raimi Spider-Man fandom, you can barely go a day without encountering a Reddit post or YouTube video calling Mary Jane a whore, a bitch, promiscuous and so on. It's frustrating as hell and I worry that the hatred for her bleeds into general perception of the character and makes people think she's badly written. But she's not, because here's the secret: MJ is promiscuous! It's a major part of her character in the films! She likes to be in relationships and, presumably, likes to have sex. Her comic book counterpart was much the same. In the movies MJ darts about from Flash to Harry to John to Peter to Harry again, never finding what she wants to help her overcome the abuse her father subjected on her. MJ is a messed-up, traumatized, self-centered, not always very nice person...
...and the film never judges her. Not once. She is a woman who has a lot of sex, who cheats, and yet at every turn the film demands she be treated with respect. (This, I feel, may be the exact reason why fandom hatred for her is so commonplace.)
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The whole ending of the second movie is about Peter treating MJ with respect, in fact.
Norman/Green Goblin does not treat MJ with respect, and loudly implies she's a gold-digger and a whore during the Thanskgiving scene.
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When Norman does that to MJ, we're meant to be on her side. The moment is about her and her feelings, not Peter. She tells Harry off for not standing up for her (even though he did!) and storms off. Her rage is validated.
I've always found it fascinating how the Raimi Spider-Mans keep Norman the same misogynist he was in the comics. Look, I made a whole gifset about it! When Norman makes a rape threat towards MJ later - and a rape threat is exactly what he made - that is the point of no return for him. He's punished with a blade through the crotch. (I resent massively that No Way Home walked back on Norman being a monster with or without the Goblin persona, but I suppose there's nothing I can do about that.)
MJ is not punished for cheating on Peter. When Peter pushes her and hurts her in Spider-Man 3, the audience is meant to be APPALLED. I mean, watch the scene!
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But maybe don't read the comments.
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Peter's hitting MJ is his lowest possible point, and he needs to redeem himself from that point on. Basically: all the male characters in Spider-Man are judged by the narrative when it comes to how they treat MJ.
Peter shoves MJ to the floor? Narrative's gonna make you work to redeem yourself for that one.
Harry grabs MJ by the throat while dosed up on goblin juice? Death. But redemptive death, because we like Harry.
Norman threatens to rape MJ? No penis or life for you.
Eddie/Venom sexually assaults MJ by web-slinging her out a taxi and commenting on her body? Deaaaaath. The Spider-Man films give absolutely no quarter to misogynists and this is all done via the character of MJ. She is the film's moral center - while also being a messy, selfish, impulsive gal. She's not pure. She's not innocent. She has a lot of sex. But Peter and the narrative hold her up as someone valued and important.
The Venom thing brings me to Gwen. Gwen also suffers misogyny (and sexual harassment) at the hands of Eddie. In Spider-Man 3 it's established that Eddie and Gwen went on one date and it didn't really go anywhere. They didn't have sex (Gwen is firm on this point) but Eddie feels entitled to sex from Gwen anyway. (Sorry, Venom fans. Spider-Man 3 is not easy on him). Eddie declares his intent to marry Gwen when she is not around and seems to be practically stalking her. But!
Gwen never once actually tells Eddie to go away. She's unaware of his true intentions towards her and when he approaches her with a camera at the Spider-Man festival, she smiles and poses. The closest she comes is telling Eddie "not tonight" about a date. But in the Raimi Spider-Man films (and this means a great deal to me) Gwen's lack of a firm no still actually means no. Eddie is still in the wrong for stalking her, and the narrative takes great pains to make this clear. Eddie never gets a redemption, and as soon as he starts talking about Gwen and MJ as if they're property, MJ drops a cinder block on his head.
This isn't even getting into Aunt May. Aunt May is frankly one of my very favorite things about the Spider-Man movies and if MJ is the moral center of the story, May is the beating heart. She's a support and mentor to Peter but the movies always make it clear that she has her own issues and problems to deal with. The movie doesn't shy away from her anger. She's allowed to be furious at Peter for his part in Ben's death, but I always thought the best scene with May is at the beginning of Spider-Man 2, when Peter refuses to take a few dollars from her and, just for a second, she absolutely loses her cool with him.
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I would like to mention Ursula as well but this post is long enough already. I'll just say I love her and I love how they were able to cram plenty of characterization into her five minutes of screentime. For example, although she has a crush on Peter, she still encourages him to call MJ.
ANYWAY.
I feel like the result of this poll is a result of several things:
People mistaking depiction for endorsement. The Spider-Man movies depict A LOT of misogyny and sometimes this is done well and sometimes it isn't. For example, I do not think the attempted rape scene in Spider-Man 1 was done well, even though I guess it ties in well with the misogyny mini-arc that ends with Norman losing his knob. But hopefully this little essay explains why the movies don't support the views of their most misogynistic characters and actively go against them.
MJ being a really messy character. She's not always a good person and I think people mistake that for bad writing. Nope, she's just traumatized and difficult and (understandbly) selfish. That scene of her father screaming at her and calling her "trash" is in the movie for a reason. Her not being able to accept bad reviews of her acting because she hears them in her father's voice is also in the movie for a reason. Oh, you want more complex female characters? You couldn't even handle her!
The aforementioned misogyny of the fandom bleeding into public perception of the actual work (see also: Star Wars)
MJ needing to be rescued (sometimes from rapists) a lot. I've never thought a female character needing to be rescued a lot is sexist. Yeah, it would be cool if MJ grabbed a tire iron and defeated Norman in combat, but she's not that person. She's not a strong female character - she's a weak female character. And the narrative wants you to respect her anyway.
Spider-Man? (The Sam Raimi trilogy)
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Spider-Man (Film Series, 2002)
Explain your reasoning in the tags!
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ionobjectshow · 12 hours ago
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Hello granddad!! Really enjoyed the new episode by the way :D I just wanted to ask something, I dont know if you already answered this so I'm sorry for bothering you if you have D:
Do you have a particular interest in nuclear physics? I'm wondering because when I watch ION it seems to me like you must be very passionate about it as well, either that or your just very good at researching (or making stuff up this sounds legit to people who dont know anything about physics, like me! /j), but it sounds like you know a considerable amount! Maybe it just seems like that to me because I don't understand physics at all :P
I really love cracklin!! So much!!! I've felt like I was too naive and childish for most of my life, I felt weak, pathetic, i cried nearly every day and my feelings of self hatred were only solidified by the people around me. And even though I act MUCH differently now and am in fact quite crude (I am much like a bird squawking outside your window that refuses to shut up!!!) and say uncomfortable things, I'm still regarded as naive and dumb sometimes! The thing Sylvia and cracklin have going on feels very similar to MANY friendships I've had with girls my age. I liked school very much and liked to work, so it made them angry that I managed to be "so stupid and so smart at the same time" (quoted directly from something a girl said to me when I was in middle school). I feel very seen.
I also want to ask if you have a particular interest in object shows, or if you just happened to choose to make your show an object show by coincidence? Object shows are my special interest and I LOVE how your show goes against (almost) everything standard for an object show. Your show is absolutely unique and there's nothing like it out there! I'm sure you will inspire many young creators to make their object shows more serious and complex, deviating from just the typical competition show. In my eyes something is qualified as an object show when there are objects (or non human characters) and the creator considers it an object show, so I love how versatile the title can be! Your designs communicate a lot about the characters and that's SO uncommon!!!! I love it!!!!! You inspire ME!!!! The art is also BEAUTIFUL, really abnormal to see in object shows, most of the time very little detail is put into it, but your backgrounds feel so ALIVE
Have a good day! :]
☢️ As soon as I saw this secret message, the words flashed through my mind: “this letter is very autistic, perhaps it was created by an autistic person.” ☢️ I love long opinions with lots of details and sincere emotions, thank you for this text, I was very happy reading it!
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☢️ Yes, you guessed it - nuclear physics (especially everything related to the operation of Nuclear Power Plants) has been my special autistic interest for about 5 years now. I love everything about it. In fact, I am absolutely bad at the exact sciences, but the dance of nuclear energies fascinates me and takes my breath away! I order manuals on nuclear reactors for myself and read them with great pleasure, waving my hands. I often go to a coffee shop to read there by the window with a cup of coffee ^^
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☢️ I created ION during the most terrible period of my life, and this project was the only thing that held me while anxious depression was rapidly developing and consuming me into some bottomless black abyss. So I put my whole soul, all of myself and what I love into ION, I made this project my mirror. ☢️ It is very important for me to see how this story touches the hearts of other people, I scream with delight if some neurodivergent people recognize themselves in Cracklin! This is extremely important to me.
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☢️ Object shows are not my special interest, but I was very surprised and intrigued by this genre of web animation. At first, I did not like the concept of an object show and I could not understand why people were watching it … and then something switched inside me and I really wanted to create my own experimental Object show. To create it entirely myself. To make an author's project that will become a part of me. I didn't even hope that ION would be liked by anyone else, I posted 1 episode with the thought that I was doing it only for myself. And now I am happy as a rainbow in the sky, reading so many kind comments and support! Thank you very much
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duhshereadz · 1 day ago
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More Arcane head cannons because I can’t stop:
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Jinx (Powder)
- She has a habit of giving her bombs cute names, like “Boomy” or “Snappy,” and talks to them as if they’re her friends.
- She bites her nails so much that she paints them just to make herself stop, but the paint usually gets chipped after a day.
- She doodles all over her arms when she’s bored, even though she knows it’ll smudge.
- Jinx absolutely hates vegetables, but she’ll eat them if you lie and call them “explosion fuel.”
- She has a surprising knack for sewing and will patch up her stuffed toys obsessively.
- She hums offbeat, made-up songs when tinkering, and sometimes they turn into actual catchy tunes.
- Jinx would totally put googly eyes on her weapons for no reason other than to make herself laugh.
- She hoards random shiny objects and insists they’ll be “important later,” even if it’s just a bottle cap.
- She’s constantly barefoot because she hates the feeling of shoes.
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Vi
- Vi makes terrible coffee but drinks it anyway because she’s convinced it gives her “character.”
- She’s surprisingly superstitious and always knocks on wood when she feels like she’s jinxed something.
- Vi collects random keychains from places she visits and hangs them all over her belt like trophies.
- She pretends not to care about her hair, but she secretly spends time making sure it’s styled just the right amount of messy.
- She gives people nicknames that have nothing to do with their real name.
- Vi can’t whistle, and it drives her nuts when others do it effortlessly.
- She’s an amazing dancer but will only admit it when she’s had a few drinks.
- Vi always takes up too much space on couches, sprawling across them without a care.
- She secretly loves fluffy, cozy blankets and has a stash of them in her room.
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Caitlyn Kiramman
- Caitlyn cannot function without a proper breakfast, and she gets cranky if she misses it.
- She’s weirdly good at chess, but she plays so competitively that no one likes going up against her.
- Caitlyn absolutely has a planner and writes everything in it, even things she doesn’t actually need to remember.
- She’s awful at video games and gets super flustered when she loses, which makes Vi tease her endlessly.
- Caitlyn secretly loves cheesy romance novels but keeps them hidden on a high shelf.
- Her guilty pleasure is eating dessert before dinner when no one is looking.
- Caitlyn’s handwriting is ridiculously neat, but she gets annoyed if anyone compliments it too much.
- She’s terrible at telling jokes, but her deadpan delivery somehow makes them funny anyway.
- Caitlyn refuses to wear mismatched socks—ever. It would ruin her whole day.
---
Jayce Talis
- Jayce is a terrible cook and once managed to burn water, but he insists he’s “just experimental in the kitchen.”
- He talks to himself when working, narrating every step like he’s in a tutorial video.
- Jayce has a stash of energy drinks he tries to keep secret because he knows they’re unhealthy.
- He always takes forever to get ready because he’s obsessed with looking polished, even if he’s just going to his lab.
- Jayce is weirdly good at folding fitted sheets, but he keeps that talent to himself.
- He tries to keep plants in his apartment for “aesthetic reasons,” but they always die within a week.
- Jayce collects notebooks but never fills them out because he “doesn’t want to waste them.”
- He has the worst poker face and can’t lie to save his life.
- Jayce has an elaborate skincare routine and won’t go to bed without following it.
---
Viktor
- Viktor sometimes forgets to eat while working, so he keeps random snacks hidden in his desk drawers.
- He’s the type to re-read books he’s already memorized just because it brings him comfort.
- Viktor hums classical music under his breath when he’s deep in thought.
- He’s absurdly good at mental math and sometimes mutters equations when he’s bored.
- Viktor absolutely talks to his tools and machines, even apologizing to them when they malfunction.
- He hoards broken parts or failed prototypes because he thinks he might use them “someday.”
- He doesn’t drink coffee, preferring tea, but it’s always cold by the time he remembers to drink it.
- Viktor sleeps in the weirdest positions, like half-falling off the bed but somehow comfortable.
- He’s lowkey very sentimental, keeping tiny mementos from his childhood in Zaun.
---
Silco
- Silco keeps his surroundings ridiculously neat and loses his temper if anything is out of place.
- He’s surprisingly good at card games but gets irritated when people accuse him of cheating.
- Silco never, *ever* lets anyone touch his chair in the office. It’s his throne.
- He prefers bitter drinks and thinks anything sweet is “a waste of time.”
- He secretly practices his speeches in front of a mirror to make sure he sounds menacing enough.
- Silco keeps a journal, but it’s filled with cryptic notes that only make sense to him.
- He absolutely hates bright colors and insists on everything being muted or dark-toned.
- Silco’s a night owl who rarely sleeps, and when he does, he can fall asleep sitting up.
- He secretly enjoys playing mind games just to see how long people take to figure it out.
---
Ekko
- Ekko is the type to doodle on absolutely everything, from walls to random scraps of paper.
- He always carries a deck of playing cards with him, and he’s amazing at sleight-of-hand tricks.
- Ekko has a sweet tooth and will go out of his way for pastries or candy.
- He has an old, beat-up notebook full of his plans and ideas, but it’s barely legible to anyone else.
- Ekko’s ridiculously good at climbing, treating it like a sport even when he doesn’t need to.
- He likes making little gadgets just for fun, like wind-up toys or tiny flashlights.
- Ekko is a surprisingly good dancer, but he only busts out moves when the mood strikes.
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narrans · 1 day ago
Text
A Small and Tall Collection | Chapter Fourteen | Rules and Realizations
~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~
Chapter Fourteen | Rules and Realizations
“Rules?” Soren didn’t realize he’d echoed the word until he saw Ashlynn nodding, hand resting at something at her side that looked like a thumbtack. She looked nervous. Unsure. There was a general unease about the air around the small woman that made Soren almost feel wary, but something more. A desire. A simple goal of showing to this person he could be trusted. Perhaps it was his nature, or perhaps it was some kind of affect this tiny woman had over him.
Whatever the case, he continued to listen as Ashlynn spoke. She was on her feet now, and it was obvious she was just as nervous as he was.
“Yes, rules.” Her voice was shaking. “Staying for dinner. Being seen. Any interaction. There are rules you need to follow. All of you. If you can’t agree to those, then I’m gone. Get it?”
He as absolutely entranced. What kind of courage did it take for her to come up and speak to someone so much bigger than her? And what drove her from the walls out to speak with him? Was she in danger? She seemed like she could handle herself well enough. Or was it something else? Something he couldn’t understand or hadn’t noticed because of her silence?
He looked into her blue gray eyes and sensed the gravity of her request.
“Got it,” he breathed. His fascination kept him silent as he watched her fidget, eyes flicking back and forth as she gathered her thoughts.
Even though Ashlynn suspected Soren would be agreeable, the words were still hard to speak. Thoughts swirled in her head like a whirling tornado. Everything she’d ever been taught fought to constrain her voice. Every lesson engraved in her mind compelled her to stop.
Solitude drove many in desperation. She never thought she’d be broken enough to accept it, but here she was – a Borrower talking to a human.
Ashlynn had thought long and hard about all of the things that she wanted to say and the rules she would need to set in place to ensure her safety. There were so many, but there were a few that needed to be set in stone before she agreed to interact with Soren and his sons.
“Okay, rule one – no prying questions. I’ll answer some about me, but if I say no, it means no. Drop it. Leave it alone. Sharing too much is dangerous for me. Two, when I say it’s time to go, I have to go. No persuading. No keeping. No caging. No boxes either.” Ashlynn watched Soren absorbing her words like a sponge, making no effort to inquire further or counter any of her requests.
Is it really going to be this easy?
“T-three, no touching. No grabbing, pinching, poking, prodding, stroking, or petting. Ask before you do any of that. If I say it’s okay, then… go slow. Four, don’t make things so… obvious… that you’re helping or leaving things out. It makes things easy. I don’t want easy. I’m not a pet and just because I’m small doesn’t mean I’m weak.
“Finally, no telling others about me. No stories. No hints. No drawings. Nothing that points to my existence. Do you accept?” Ashlynn wasn’t sure why she was holding her breath. Everything seemed reasonable enough, but what would Soren think?
As for the human, each request only dared him to ask more questions about their wall dwelling house guest. It was the first and obviously most important of the five rules that Ashlynn set in place. Rather than question all of them, Soren decided that asking only one, clarifying question would benefit himself and his brothers.
“Yes, of course; but I do have one question if you don’t mind.” Soren’s soft tone lessened the blow of the question, but even that wasn’t enough to ward off Ashlynn’s obvious hesitance. Soren watched her fidget subtly, obviously uneasy about the question poised to strike.
She backed slightly toward the electrical cover as she replied, “Okay? What is it?”
“What counts as a ‘prying question?’ Your name, for example, could be considered prying. What food you like or don’t like could count as prying too. Also, Rey and Dorian are curious by nature. They might not know the difference or practice discretion,” pointed out Soren. By the way the infinitesimal eyes flicked down and side to side, it was obvious Ashlynn hadn’t considered these things. “Could… I suggest a compromise? We can ask, but you don’t have to answer. Just tell us if we’re out of line and, like you said, we’ll drop it. As long as you don’t take offence to that suggestion.”
Soren hoped Ashlynn wouldn’t go sprinting back into the walls at his suggestion. Being friends was his goal, if he had to give it a name. The human watched, breath baited, as Ashlynn contemplated the request.
Every time you show up, I have more questions – questions you probably don’t want to answer. Who are you? What are you? Where do you come from? Are there more like you out there? And do they need help? Why are you trusting us now when you weren’t before? Did something happen? Is there something you need? Want? Are you telling me we can’t ask questions because you’re protecting someone? Who are you protecting?
Or are you just as curious about us as we are of you?
Soren would never dare voice these questions now or ever. Ashlynn seemed too timid, too careful, to dare answer even one of these questions. It would likely drive her away, and he didn’t want that. By no stretch of the imagination did he want to keep her here against her will, but the world was a dangerous place and, for better or worse, that protective instinct he inherited from his father and that kept his brothers safe now stretched out its hand to protect her.
The moment felt stationary before, after several skeptical looks, Ashlynn nodded a single time. “You… you can ask, but I won’t answer.”
Soren felt a smile spread across his face and the breath contained in his lungs vacated his body. He wasn’t sure how things would continue, but now he knew how they were going to start.
“So… do we shake to seal the deal? Or, do I start making dinner for four?” It was a relatively poor ploy to move things forward, but it worked. Ashlynn’s smile and obviously relieved expression told Soren everything he needed to know.
“Um… dinner. What… what’s the significance of shaking? Like… this?” Ashlynn shivered as she watched Soren’s reaction, which he was barely able to suppress as his amusement was trying to get the better of him.
“Um…” Soren cleared his throat to hide the laugh tickling the back of his throat. “No. Not exactly. It’s a handshake. You grab the other person’s hand who you want to make a deal with and that shows you both agree to the terms and stuff.” He only heard a soft “oh” in response to his explanation.
What kind of life do you live, Ashlynn? Absolutely fascinating…
“So… um… is there… anything I can do to help? Or… erm…” Ashlynn glanced around the countertops that exaggerated her size difference to Soren as she bounced her arms against her sides. It was obviously a bit of a nervous quirk, but Soren tucked that away for later.
“Let’s see,” he said absentmindedly as he thought about what Ashlynn could actually do to assist. “We’re having pizza tonight. Have you ever had it?” Ashlynn gave a vague shrug. “It’s basically cheese, bread, and tomato sauce with different toppings. Oh! I have something you can do. You have a knife, right? You could go ahead and start opening the bags and such. If you wanted to that is.”
Ashlynn, inundated with a lot of information all at once, took a second to process everything after nodding to Soren that she could fulfill the task he offered her before nodding. With little to pushback, Soren had agreed to her terms. Just like that, she was being integrated into a family activity – making dinner. The ease that Soren spoke to her and gave her a task made her head spin. She would never have been able to figure out something like this so fast.
Was it because Soren had Dorian and Rey?
Ashlynn didn’t have time to ponder because, moments after his suggestion, Soren was setting a mountain of plastic bags of varying sizes and colors onto the countertop adjacent to her. Ashlynn set her bag down by the electrical cover, keeping her hook and blade by her side, begore making the hop, skip, and jump across the stove where Soren placed the bags. Some of the food items were ones she recognized while others were completely foreign to her.
It didn’t necessarily matter. Ashlynn had tasted Soren’s food before and wasn’t about to start questioning him now. She pulled the razor blade from its sheath and began slicing. The Borrower was easily dwarfed by the bags, and she shuddered as her imagination played the stories she heard of humans trapping Borrowers in zippable bags and plastic containers.
Soren wouldn’t do that. Dorian and Rey wouldn’t do that. They’re good. Ashlynn wasn’t sure if her mantra was meant to reassure her and her decision to interact with these three humans or if she was tamping down an instinct that had picked up on potential malicious intent. Whatever the case, she continued to work.
The blade sliced easily up the shiny plastic. Twice Ashlynn had to set her makeshift razor sword to wrestle with the seams. She was so engrossed with her work that she didn’t notice until she looked up that Soren had been watching her. It sent a shiver down her spine.
“What?” she asked. Soren, who had glanced over and suddenly found himself staring, snapped out of the trance he was in after picking up on the defensiveness in her voice.
“Nothing, sorry,” he apologized. The look in her eye screamed disbelief. “It’s just interesting… differences and similarities. Your… sword? Dagger? What’s it made of?” Soren caught the tiny glint of light from the blade as Ashlynn examined it.
“It’s… just a knife. Well… for me it’s just a knife. It used to be part of a razor blade, but I bor-… er… reused the blade since it was still sharp,” explained Ashlynn. She had stopped herself from saying “borrowed” and hoped Soren didn’t notice or wouldn’t say anything. The Borrower feared he would put part of that name together and stumble across the correct term for people like her. It might’ve been a stretch, but she didn’t want to take any more risk than what she was already chancing.
“Ah… I see. And the end? You just had to flatten it and wrapped part of an… eraser? Very ingenuitive.” Soren’s complement made Ashlynn’s cheeks burn, but thankfully something or, rather, two someones pulled focus from her.
“Soren! Soren! I think we’ve got it. It’s going to be great for little m…” Soren and Ashlynn both glanced toward the living room as the sound of two pairs of footsteps thundered around the corner. Rey and Dorian were obviously racing to get to Soren first to reveal whatever they had been inventing when they stopped dead in their tracks. Both of the boys spotted Ashlynn on the counter in an instant.
Ashlynn, out of pure instinct, had backed away several large steps and crouched, hand clutching her razor blade dagger and legs primed to sprint back for the wall at a moment’s notice. The fear in her throat took a moment to swallow and she sucked in slow, deep breaths as silently as she could. The Borrower began debating whether this whole “interact with the boys” was a bad idea or not when Soren stepped forward, hands raised as if taming two wild beasts at the same time.
“Hey guys,” Soren stated clearly and calmly. “We have a guest over for dinner, so we’re going to be on our best behavior, yeah?” The boys’ faces, filled with wonder and delight, both bobbed up and down as they nodded in response to Soren’s statement.
Rey was the first to speak, giving a little wave and an optimistic smile as he said, “Hey there, little miss. Are you really staying for dinner?”
Even though Ashlynn had already committed to interacting with the human trio, getting the single word, “Yes,” out to the boys was much harder than setting the rules with Soren. The kids glanced at one another, obviously struggling to hide their excitement, before looking back to Soren.
“Does… so… does that mean she’s helping you?” Rey asked.
“Yep, and she’s doing an excellent job,” stated Soren, sneaking in a wink in Ashlynn’s direction that the boys didn’t notice. Their excitement was too distracting, just like how that wink was for Ashlynn.
“Can we help? I wanna use the smack chopper!” Dorian cheered.
Rey’s face immediately fell as he grumbled, “Hey! Not fair! I wanted to use the smack chopper.”
Smack chopper? What on earth is that? I really don’t like the sound of that, Ashlynn thought as she felt her body tense. Soren must’ve noticed, because he cleared his throat and pulled a few chopping boards out from beside the sink on his right.
“Well, at the moment I think it would be better if we let me do the cutting since we’re trying to get everything going quickly. You said you’re both hungry, right?” Soren’s sense of diplomacy and redirection was on point, and in minutes the boys were at the table helping cut and separate all of the “toppings” for the pizza. Ashlynn felt her body slowly relax as she continued her task.
At some point, Soren divvied out this squishy pale tan ball called dough and showed Ashlynn and the two boys how to knead the dough. Something about gluten and stretching out the strands. Ashlynn didn’t know. It was above her head. All she knew was that the rhythm of mixing the dough was soothing and, in a fleeting memory, she remembered seeing her mother doing something similar in their kitchen when she was very young.
“Alll-right. Now, we need to let it rise, so we’re going to put it into the sink for a bit, clean up what we can, and wait before putting everything together,” informed Soren as he gathered the balls of dough together. While Ashlynn couldn’t help clean off the table, she did snag a fragment of paper towel, attached it to the gadget Rey made for him, and began wiping down the countertop where she was standing.
It was the least she could do.
Once done, however, she watched as the boys bounded into their seats at the table, which was quite a distance away. Soren was close behind, but paused and looked back at her as he nodded at the table.
“Care to join us? We were going to play a quick game of Pictionary while we waited.” Ashlynn glanced from Soren back to the eagerly awaiting boys at the table.
“Um… sure,” she stated hesitantly. “But… I… I don’t know how to play.”
“Don’t worry. It’s very easy,” reassured Soren.
“You can be on my team!” Rey suggested, his pale blue eyes sparkling in the light. Dorian shot him an envious look and echoed his brother’s offer.
“Or mine! You can choose to be on my team.” The boys’ banter back and forth reminded Ashlynn of how she and her…. She felt her heart sink, a hollow spot in her chest as her situation felt thrust back into her face. It felt like so long ago…
Mere feet away, Soren noticed Ashlynn’s features shift from amused to crestfallen in a matter of moments. Is she sad because she doesn’t know the game? Maybe she doesn’t want to disappoint either brother? Or is something else going on? Soren wondered.
“Alrighty guys. Maybe we show her how to play and then see if she wants to choose a team,” suggested Soren. “And you don’t have to join us if you don’t want to. It’s whatever you’re comfortable with. Also, if you need a hand, happy to help.”
It was quite a generous offer, and once again a display of Soren’s ability to read her mind; for the most part anyway.
“I… thank you. I’ll make my way over while you get everything all set up.” Ashlynn thought the lift would be nice, but having Soren carry her to the table in front of the boys might send the wrong message, especially since Soren hadn’t had a chance to tell them the rules and conditions for her visiting.
“So shall it be,” he smiled before turning back to the boys and dividing up different pieces of paper and cards. With only quick flicks from curious eyes on her, Ashlynn snagged her things and headed to the edge of the counter. The wood grain had obvious pock marks from where her hook had lodged itself on previous borrowing missions. So, with that in mind, Ashlynn slid her hook into the hole and leaned over the rim.
The rope easily slid through her fingers while her feet kept traction as she bounded down the wall like an acrobat. The wind in her hair was thrilling, and Ashlynn was on the ground in a matter of seconds. She didn’t need to glance over her shoulder to sense all three humans watching her, jaws slack in awe.
This is really going to blow their minds then. Ashlynn stifled a grin to herself as she flicked the line. The ripple dislodged the hook and sent it flying through the air, and Ashlynn was ready for it. She only had to take two steps to the side as she snagged the hook out of the air before it hit the ground and rolled up the line in record time.
“Woah!” Both Dorian and Rey were leaning over the table, eyes wide as saucers, as they watched Ashlynn spin and hurl the hook up like a discus. It flew through the air and lodged into the side of the table on the first try, something Ashlynn was hoping would happen for dramatic effect, before climbing the line, legs weaving around the line like a snake, as she inched her way up.
“You are seriously so cool, little miss,” said Dorian, shifting his position from leaning over the table to peering under it to watch Ashlynn climb. Even Soren, who Ashlynn was climbing up beside, looked impressed.
“And, instead of gawking, we can go over a couple of rules she set for us. If she’s going to be visiting, we need to respect those rules. Okay? So, listening ears on,” instructed Soren. While Soren explained all of the things Ashlynn had told him, she finally managed to lift herself up over the edge of the table and roll onto its surface. Her heart thumped loudly, and she felt a bit winded, the table being the longest distance she’d covered without resting since her injury.
“So, we can’t ask certain questions? Like her name and stuff?” asked Rey. Soren glanced unsurely at Ashlynn. He’d never been given strict instruction to keep her name a secret, but she also didn’t give him permission to tell it either.
Hearing this, Ashlynn sat up and crossed her legs, knowing what needed to be done next. Clearing her throat, she looked between the two boys who were now looking at her eagerly.
“It’s… it’s nice to meet you, Rey… Dorian. I’m Ashlynn,” she said. She didn’t miss the excited glanced the boys gave one another. The Borrower also didn’t miss the curious gleam that was as bright as a flashlight in the dark. It was that curious gleam that every Borrower was terrified of, but she’d seen it before in the boys and let her nerves come and go as they sat back down in their seats.
“It’s nice to meet you too, Ashlynn,” said Dorian.
“Ashlynn. I like that name. It suits you,” chimed in Rey. The child’s complement was short lived as Rey then asked, “Did you come up with it yourself?”
Ashlynn wasn’t sure how she wanted to answer the question. These two were obviously too young for the birds and the bees talk, and she was so unlike anyone they ever met that they were obviously not assuming there were more people like her, especially parents. At least there’s one good thing from this. They’re not assuming there’s more people out there like me.
“Um… n-no. I… I didn’t come up with it,” said Ashlynn. She felt her throat tightening, which led down into her chest like roots of a tree. She swallowed and looked away, hoping this would be the end of it; and, thankfully it was.
“Yeah, I didn’t come up with Rey. Our mom and dad came up with our names. Well, our mom came up with Soren’s name, but mom and dad both picked out Dorian and Rey,” blathered Rey. The statement struck Ashlynn as a bit odd as she wondered why Soren’s name would be dragged into the mix, especially at the mention of our mom.
“And, with that line of questioning, let’s explain the rules of the game and get a few rounds in before we bake the pizzas,” interrupted Soren. Ashlynn managed to mouth “thank you” before Soren delved into how to play Pictionary.
While Ashlynn had games like this she’d played with her family growing up, it was the whole reading portion that she struggled with. Ashlynn could sound out some words and understood certain letters put together, especially the ones that indicated danger. Reading was never a Borrower’s strong suit, so instead of participating she just watched as the two brothers tried to guess what Soren was drawing, each getting a point when they guessed correctly.
It was a charming experience, but all good things had to come to an end because, finally, it was time for dinner. Soren and the boys brought everything over to the table and Soren explained how to roll out the dough to make their own personalized pizzas.
“Okay, Ashlynn, how it works is after you roll out your dough, you spread on some sauce and then put different toppings on the top. Watch me.” Soren was lightning fast as he put together the first and the second before pausing and watching Ashlynn put together her own. Dorian and Rey asked a thousand questions as she used a bit of tin foil to spread red sauce over the surface.
What was her favorite topping? In truth? She didn’t know. She liked things she recognized and that didn’t make her feel sick later, so she chose cheese, pepperoni, bacon, and peppers.
Could she eat a whole pizza by herself? Especially if she was super hungry? Not a human sized one, but maybe one her size.
Was this the first time she’d ever cooked something like this? Yes. Cooking was a challenge.
How did she cook usually? Candle stove, but that was if she needed to cook or heat something up for safety purposes.
Did she just eat leftovers she found? Yes, mostly.
Ashlynn found herself answering some of the questions and politely declining the others and, just like that, it was time to eat. The aroma alone could have brought Ashlynn to her knees. Smelling everything first hand instead of the residual from the ceiling was like the difference between night and day. The same could be said about the temperature.
Eating something warm? Revolutionary. The moment she took her first bite, Ashlynn felt herself melting into it. At one point, she even let out an audible groan, making the boys giggle.
“It’s good, right?” asked Dorian. Ashlynn could only nod in response as she relished the experience of sharing a warm meal. “Hey, I have a question for you. Have you ever been afraid of heights?”
Ashlynn shook her head, before pausing, “No, not when I’m looking down. It’s when I’m looking up, like out here, that makes me feel a little woozy.” Rey, being curious, immediately snapped his head back ninety degrees to look up at the ceiling as if to see things from Ashlynn’s perspective. It was Dorian, however, who continued questioning.
“So, like, is it hard to climb tables and stuff like that? You know, being small and everything and you having to look up?”
Ashlynn paused mid-chew and looked up at Dorian with slight indignation. The Borrower wasn’t sure if she should be offended or grateful that the kid was taking her perspective into account and asking legitimate questions that weren’t too personal. When out in the human’s territory, it was all too obvious that size was a factor. She knew she was small, but for a Borrower she was slightly above average height. That was no small feat for a Borrower. She finished chewing and swallowed before readjusting where she sat.  
“Um… no? I mean, it was hard when I was little – little-er. It just takes practice,” Ashlynn replied. For the first time in what felt like an hour of constant inundation from the boys, Soren spoke up.
“Yeah, I can understand that. We have to do rope training and looking up at a building roof is probably the same as looking up at the top of a table for you. I noticed you were using what we call the ‘s-hook’ method to get up the rope,” stated Soren. Ashlynn’s imagination instantly ran off the rails, her train of thought imagining Soren climbing up a line. She looked away quickly, cheeks burning, and hoped Soren didn’t notice her miniature fantasy.
“I… er… I don’t know the names. It’s just what I found was faster to limb the line,” muttered Ashlynn. “I’m… impressed you can climb a line. Most humans don’t know how to do basic survival stuff.”
“Yeah, Soren knows everything,” grinned Rey as he took another bite. Sauce smeared on either sides of his lips. His smile beamed through, despite the red staining on his mouth. Ashlynn nodded and glanced up at Soren, catching his eye.
“Yeah, your dad is really great.” Immediately, she watched Soren’s features darken. Now he was the one who was stiff and who looked away awkwardly. Unease settled around the table. The beaming smile on Rey’s face diminished, and Dorian’s brow furrowed in a scowl. Ashlynn felt like she’d just set off a firecracker in the walls, and all eyes were on her.
What? What did I say? Did I say that wrong? What’s going on?
“How would you know? You’ve never met him,” Dorian piped up before taking a particularly viscous bite out of his pizza slice, tearing the edge away with ease. Confusion didn’t cover Ashlynn’s initial reaction. She glanced up at Soren, who was clenching and unclenching his jaw and keeping his eyes averted.
“Yeah… dad… he’s not… the greatest…” mumbled Rey. “He’s the one who gave me these.” At that, Rey pulled back his long sleeved shirt, and the sight broke Ashlynn’s heart. There were circular marks going up Rey’s arm. They looked like burns, but not like the ones Soren had on his calloused hands. There were other marks too that might’ve been cuts, but Ashlynn couldn’t tell from where she was sitting. Dorian did the same, wiping his hands on his pants and pulling up his sleeves to show the same marks on him.
“No… he’s definitely not the greatest.” It was the first time Ashlynn had heard a growl come out of Soren, darkness saturating his words. She’d obviously treaded on a taboo subject; but how? She looked from person to person before the words came to her.
“But… hang on a second. So… they’re not yours?” Ashlynn looked up at Soren as she pointed to the boys. Soren’s golden hazel eyes locked onto Ashlynn’s blue gray orbs and, like the striking of a match, realization struck him. Instantly, his eyes lightened and was replaced with something else – amusement. Ashlynn looked back to Dorian and Rey, pointing between either boy and then back to Soren as if she were some kind of wonky compass. “Hang on. Wait but… isn’t… Soren? He’s not…. Isn’t Soren your dad?”
Low rumbling shook the table from Ashlynn’s right, and she realized it was Soren stifling his laughter. Dorian and Rey both glanced at each other before sputtering and erupting into a fit of laughter of their own. It was as if Ashlynn couldn’t have told a funnier joke to these three. Embarrassment burned a hole through her cheeks and her ears as she looked from person to person in hopes someone – anyone – would offer an explanation.
Finally, it was Rey who spoke up, recovering enough to say something coherent.  
“Soren’s not our dad!” Rey giggled. “He’s our brother!”
Ashlynn was absolutely gob smacked. She looked between the three, waiting for there to be some kind of punch line. When there was none, Soren stepped in and continued Rey’d explanation.
“Yeah, I’m their older brother. We had the same mom, but my dad passed when I was a kid and my mom remarried to their dad, who isn’t in the picture by the way,” said Soren. Ashlynn wasn’t sure what “in the picture” meant, considering there were no cameras or other hanging pictures around, but she focused instead on Soren’s next question. “So, this whole time, did you think I was their dad?”
Ashlynn felt her cheeks burn hotter as she nodded bashfully.
“I… I guess I just thought… and you were so good at taking care of… Never mind,” muttered Ashlynn.
The boys quieted their laughter and refocused on their dinner guest.
“Oh, oh no. I’m sorry Ashlynn,” mumbled Rey.
“Yeah, we didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” Dorian added. “You didn’t know. We’re sorry.” Soren nodded in acknowledgement, agreeing with both boys. She looked up and saw no malice or taunt hiding in the boys’ faces. It was still embarrassing, but Ashlynn had to admit that she did find it a little funny. All this time, she’d just assumed that Soren was the boys’ father. Little quirks and things he would do, and their similarities and differences could all be explained away with that explanation.
Ashlynn realized a moment later that she was chuckling a little as well. “It’s okay,” she said earnestly. “To be fair, I thought it was weird that you two called Soren by his first name. I should’ve seen it. I’m sorry for assuming.”
“Nothing to be sorry for,” said Soren, his tone and countenance back to normal. “Anyway, it’s getting late and you two need to get to bed if we’re going sledding tomorrow.”
“And then it’s Christmas Eve!” Rey cheered, a little louder than Ashlynn would’ve liked. “Hey, Ashlynn, do you like Christmas? Did you ask Santa for anything? Is… OH! Is Santa like you? You know? Smaller?”
“Rey,” Dorian rolled his eyes, prompting the youngest brother to continue.
“What?! It would make sense. Fits down the chimney. Knows if you’re good or bad. Knows what you want for Christmas. Oh! Like an elf! Like one of Santa’s elves!”
Ashlynn was completely lost by Rey’s words. Santa? Christmas? She recognized the word “elf,” but wasn’t sure if it was a complement or not to be called one.
“You know Santa isn’t real, right?” stated Dorian in his matter-of-fact older sibling authoritarian tone.
“I know! But all of the stories have him normal sized, and maybe they have it wrong! Maybe whoever wrote those books made Santa be big with magic to keep people from looking for littler people living in the walls and floors and stuff. Wait, Ashlynn, you don’t have magic, do you?” asked Rey.
Ashlynn chuckled and shook her head, barely keeping her head above the surface of her swimming thoughts. “No… I don’t have magic. I’m just… me. What’s a ‘Santa’? And Christmas? Is that when you humans put up trees and leave out stuff for longer?”
This made Soren chuckle. “Yeah, basically. Christmas is a bit more than giving gifts though. It’s about celebrating Jesus Christ’s birth and spending time with friends and family remembering what’s important in life.” It was still so far above Ashlynn’s head that she felt like she was on the verge of drowning. At the same time, it made sense. Year after year, she’d seen humans gather together during the cold season for exactly what Soren described.
“Hey, Ashlynn? Could I ask you something next?” asked Dorian. Ashlynn directed her attention to the middle brother and nodded. “Um… you’ve said it a few times, but you’ve called us humans. I know that’s what we are, but then what does that make you? Are you not human?”
“Yeah, you look human. You’re a person, just like us. Is there a difference?” asked Rey. Dorian shot him a look, as if to say that his question should be first, before looking back at Ashlynn. The table once again fell silent, and Ashlynn wasn’t sure how she wanted to answer. Even Soren had directed his focus onto her and only her.
This is one of those questions about who and what I am. I don’t want to answer. It’s not directly asking what I am, but it’s close enough.
“I… I don’t… could you ask something different, please?” asked Ashlynn. Her legs pulled in closer, and it felt like her skin was tingling under the watchful gaze of the three boys. Both Rey and Dorian opened their mouths to protest, but Soren clearing his throat silenced them.
“We’ll have to save those questions for some time later. Now, hop to! Take your dishes to the kitchen and decide who is bathing first. It has to happen for both of you, so decide now. And, Ashlynn, if you don’t want to stay to do dishes, then I’ll wish you a good night,” stated Soren.
Saved!
Ashlynn nodded and smiled at the boys, who obviously looked disheartened that she didn’t want to answer their last question of the night. She crossed her legs and, in one fluid motion, twirled to her feet, earning a few “oohhs” from the boys. She snagged her hook from her hip and approached the ledge when, from behind, she heard Rey’s voice pipe up.
“Um… Ashlynn… do… do you need help? So you don’t have to climb down and back up?” The youngest’s question was genuinely out of concern, though it still made Ashlynn a bit uneasy. Still, he’d showed restraint, much like Dorian, and she was trying to demonstrate a bit of trust for the family of three.
The Borrower also remembered the last time she was in Rey’s hands, injured and ill. Was he looking for a chance to redeem himself? Or did he just want a chance to hold the tiny person again?
“I… um…” The boy’s eyes pleaded that she say “yes.”
“Rey, she might not feel comfortable with that,” stated Soren. The glance out of the corner of his eye was obviously waiting for some kind of confirmation or denial. Either way, it was a way for her to get out of being carried by a child.
But…
Rey was sweet.
He was kind.
It’s okay. I have to… no… I want to give a little. They’re inviting me into their home without anything in return. I don’t owe them anything, but this is something I can do to show the trust they’ve earned.
“It… it’s okay. Just… be careful. No sudden movements. Got it?” Ashlynn’s request was met with the delight of a thousand answered questions. Rey immediately hopped off of his chair and scurried over to the other side of the table where Ashlynn was standing. The child looked eagerly up at Soren, whose silent eye-language spoke volumes. Rey took a few calm breaths before slowly offering his hands for Ashlynn to stand on.
She could see the sauce stained fingers and the glint in those pale blue eyes that usually would’ve warded her away from such an interaction. Instead, she pushed through her discomfort and stepped forward onto Rey’s hand, ignoring the little excited inhale as she stood on his right palm and crouched.
“Over to the counter, please.” Ashlynn’s blood was roaring in her ears. She swallowed dryly as the hand beneath her jostled and Rey, as carefully as he could, shuffled his feet back over to the countertop. It was maybe five feet in total, just under two meters. It was still enough to make Ashlynn appreciate her autonomy and ability to choose.
Rey set her down without grabbing, pinching, tripping, petting, and every other horrible thing Ashlynn thought a child might be capable of. He was beaming and looking proud of himself, and Ashlynn had to admit that despite the age gap that Rey had almost given a smoother ride than Soren when he brought her to the countertop that day.
“Thanks, Rey.”
Ashlynn saw Rey’s entire body vibrate in a kind of full body wag before he replied. “You are so welcome, Ashlynn.”
Soren corralled his brother away from the countertop, Dorian close behind, as he waved goodnight to Ashlynn.
“Take whatever leftovers you’d like, and don’t be a stranger. Goodnight Ashlynn.”
Ashlynn watched the three brothers go, questions forming in her head about the three.
What was the story behind Rey and Dorian’s father? Why did Soren have that look on his face? She’d never seen him look so irritated and stoic with no gleam of care in those golden hazel orbs.
I might have to give some better answers if I want the answer to those questions; which, all in all, might not be a bad thing. Ashlynn thought as she packed up a few little pieces for a snack later and vanished back into the walls.
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Continue | Coming Soon
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A Tall and Small Collection | Original Story
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sadiiomane10 · 1 year ago
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I'm exhausted but what is sleep when my brain doesn't shut the fuck up
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wizardsix · 2 months ago
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local guy claims intellectual superiority by declaring people who criticise veilguard just haven't played long enough and don't really know what bad writing is. it must be very peaceful to have such an empty head.
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cent-scratchnsniff · 9 days ago
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something bad did indeed happen to that man. spent abt 25 minutes trying to find a better picture of that one (1) offical piece with his eyes open that wasnt compressed or tiny
#library of ruina#yan library of ruina#getting comfortable doodling some objects and mannequin shapes for very obvious reasons. i read the keypage story and now it has a grip on#my brain. wanting to go ahead and plan it out and then draw the mangled memory and nightmare that replays behind the eyelids in the darknes#it was cool to see the reason confirmed from my speculation. twas indeed another reason of blocking out present pain with closing of eyes#considering they made angela have a plot important reason for doing so it would only make sense for another to have a reason for it as well#well. after having a prominent part inside the thumb/index story line. its just going to be yapping about yan now i think#let me add a spoiler tag i suppose? vauge but just incase i dont want to be an asshole. even if most already have played rhe game#library of ruina spoilers#lor spoilers#i really liked the typewritter effect over the voice after distortion. especially so when the effect finishes before the actual garbled voi#does. it makes it feel as if it were being read out after it being written down rather than of own words or volition. along with the text#upon the screen during the fight being just prescripts rather than anything relating to the man himself like the other instances with such#text had been. paired w the name of distorted yan being untranslated to keep the intent of the name being unreadable or not understandable#more into the idea of stripping away of the self or any sense of a self. not personal and not even him anymore. the following of a goal for#the goal for it is given and there isnt any hope of having the ability to not do such a thing. people yearn for a reason and something to d#and for it to be given to them to not hold responsibility nor have to do their own choices anymore. once a crushing weight weighs down#inside the face of an absolute cruelty that is perpetuated and that crushed the dreams or even desires having them be but nothing how can#one move on? it was really nice to see at the end of the fight. its easier to just say such things than to actually do them. even if the ac#ions dont even feel as if they are ones own or that there isnt any say in the matter having to endure all the pain for seemingly nothing it#still is pain. that feeling inside is still real. it still happened. regardless of the circumstances that brought them about#the thumb/index or just fingers seem to be an exaggerated to the extreme showcase of how the colletivist mindset in an unhealthy manner#could be exhibited. the thumb with its hierarchy and absoluteness and the demand for respect along with its strict layers of showing who is#below and who is above. the ability to have power over those underneath . the participation inside of it and the already brought up yearnin#to be apart of a group and to have a title and position inside of a group and of power and even a desire like from pete to join one iirc#the index being of the cruel perpetuating cycle of pain people inflict upon one another a behavior beaten and upkept by the systems as they#drift and desire to live. which causes them to partcipate in that cycle out of necessity. cruel acts upon another in order to live and seei#a need to go ahead and do such things for if they dont they die and another will just do the same to them. social sciences talk and rolands#talks abt how the city opperates reinforce that fact. the index and prescripts are really just a show inside that extreme manner and in a#more literal sense of that. it was really cool to read it..
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ratatatastic · 6 months ago
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its finally luosty turns last but not least eh? his topic? cranky sasha 🤣🤣🤣 (whoever came up with these topics wanted to get sasha riled up oh my goddddd)
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ofc the way he chooses to show off cranky sasha is through his spartan hockey huh and OF FUCKING COURSE he gets lundy to come up and help him because who else but lundy does sasha crack the good ole whip for IM DYING
he also makes sure to mime in the goal posts too so everyones on the same page that this is of course about hockey because this has turned into an improv exercise mama hes a star hes a THEATRE kid
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luosty is very good at mimicing cranky sasha must have lots of time watching him get fussy with lundy huh i can imagine the only directions given to lundy here was act like yourself and somehow that makes this funnier
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they absolutely both think luosty is the funniest fucker alive OH MY GOD HE GOT LUNDY TO SMILE (WHICH ISNT MUCH OF AN ACCOMPLISHMENT HES SO SMITTEN WITH HIM) BUT HE GOT MIKKSY TO GIVE A GOOD TOOTHY GRIN TOO LUOSTY WHAT POWERS DO YOU HAVE 😭😭😭😭
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he has this whole couch bewitched by his antics oh my fucking god... kicking the bench...throwing the water bottle...cranky sasha indeed
THE WAGGING FINGER AT LUNDY hey man whyd you move your hand to your crotch did that incite any revelations in you do you need to cover something that had unfortunate timing huh do you understand why mikksy cant stand them do you understand now
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on another episode of i genuinely dont think anyone else could do this and get sasha this giggly in the midst of it of making fun of him luosty has really charmed them all
Sasha Cup Party | 7.31.24 (x)
#eetu luostarinen#anton lundell#aleksander barkov#niko mikkola#florida panthers#luosty could absolutely get away with murder and the finns would be like noooo you didnt do it not youuuuu#he has the charm of a siren WHAT IS THIS#apparently boyish does work on sasha and all is forgiven if you have it#while i think the humour runs a little dry and sharp in the finn group which means sometimes someones gets a little bristled in the process#luosty has such joyous slapstick comedy that its impossible to feel offended even if he is teasing you#hes like a rodeo clown to me#like sometimes mikksy and sasha go a little hard while lundy runs a little sensitive and luosty is the perfect bridge between all that#does that make sense? am i making sense right now?#like luosty can end up making everyone laugh#like in the NHLWAP series while luosty made a jab at mikksys goal production it wasnt in a way that felt malicious in any wY#mikksy has tough skin but even then hes aware hes a defensive minded dman whos priority is not scoring so when luosty says “when you score#less goals than mikksy THEN you worry“ (in regards to his personal lack of production in the 2324 season) hes diverting the attention in#a comedic way while also kinda pointing out how ridiculous the notion is like yeah he hasnt had the same production like the previous seaso#but thats nothing to worry about personally. mikksy also giggles and goes “why am i suddenly being attacked?”#its just such a perfect way to jump to the next topic where no ones feathers are ruffled and everyone wins#i didnt like the q either and i wouldve answered a lot more snarkier but luosty does it with such grace and humor its really admirable#sorry this turned into a luosty splurge but i just think its important to point out#there IS a reason why he charms people so much and i feel like this and the prev thing i said is a good few reasons why
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