#she'd whoop his ass

[cheshitora]

ʟᴀᴛɪɴᴏ!ʙᴀᴊɪ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

:: Speaking Spanish/Swearing ::

tw :: just a lot of swearing tbh

Baji definitely didn't have much influence from his Latino family in his childhood (yk, growing up in Japan and all) so I feel like he'd partly know Spanish, just enough to get him by (like myself).

One thing he does know how to say fluently, as if he truly were a native speaker, are swears and certain phrases. Now, this varies depending on where you see Baji coming from, as each country has their own ways of phrasing certain things (the bottom phrases are in Mexico spanish so might not be the same in other Latin countries).

"Te voy a chingar," - "chingar" has a few meanings but in this context would mean "I'm going to fuck you up"

"No mames," - you might've heard this one before but it's basically like saying "no fucking way"

"Qué putas quieres?" - what the fuck do you want?

"Quítate," - get off me. i also use this like "get away from me"

Some other words I see Baji using a lot too are "cabrón/cabróna," "pendejo/pendeja," and"pinche güey."

I remember on my first HC of Latino!Baji I said he wouldn't use "mami". Maybe on some rare occasion he would. I can definitely see him using "princesa", but not in an endearing way, but to annoy you (hated being called "princesa growing up ngl). He also probably wouldn't use this often since he most likely favors using "pendeja/pendejo" instead.

Another thing about Latino!Baji is that he uses these phrases/words so often that the other guys start to pick them up and use them too. They definitely ask Baji to translate something from Japanese to Spanish and he tries to give them the best translation he can. Mikey and Kazutora definitely ask him the most though, with Mikey eventually using, "hijo de puta" against Draken during an argument.

Kazutora definitely likes using "mami" (cause he thinks he's so cool). He also probably tries to use "güey," or "vato," at random moments that don't seem necessary. Baji spoke more vulgar when he was younger and as he got older, didn't speak as rough and tries to work on vocabulary and grammar. Though every now and then, he throws out a, "cómo chingas" or "no me jodes".

[hematomes]

candace being a 4* with a questionable kit at best is the greatest crime known to man

[volya-horisvit]

I wanna reblog this shit a million times.

I cannot get behind those aus where Bakugo interns with Miruko, mainly because this is fucking MIRUKO we’re talking about. You really think she’d put up with his shit? Are you gonna look me in the eye and honest to god expect me to believe that Rumi “I used to partake in illegal underground fighting rings and kicked the asses of grown men when I was a middle schooler” Usagiyama would allow Bakugo to talk to her the way he talks to other people and not punt him like a football? Honk the clown nose, luv.

[thrasherella]

Dragon!hybrid who absolutely on purpose accidentally gets himself and his cute lil' human coworker trapped in the supply closet while everyone else is at lunch

...

"Was that the door?" she felt an uncomfortable lurch in the pit of her stomach, a little grunt escaping her as she was roughly pushed forward into the shelves.

"Fuck," he swore softly; she thought because he, like her, had realized that yes, the light 'click' they just heard was the door closing behind him, locking them inside the cramped space until someone from the outside opened the door.

The actual reason he had sworn, was because with the way they were positioned in the tiny space, her back was fully pressed against his front, and she was at the perfect height that her soft ass was jammed into his crotch.

He tried to move so that he could give her more space but it was impossible, ending up pushing further into her; she could feel her face growing hot as she became aware that his cock was nestled right up against her slit, separated by just a couple of layers of clothing. The thought of his thick, ridged cock being shoved inside her made her cunt ache, feeling a hot pang behind her naval, using every ounce of her willpower to keep herself still.

This was exactly what he wanted.

"This is the closet with the funky lock, huh?" of course she already knew the answer; everyone at the office knew this supply closet was jinxed, had an abnormally heavy door, and a lock that locked automatically from the outside as soon as the door closed, but for whatever godforsaken reason couldn't then be unlocked from the inside. She was just really, really hoping that she was wrong.

He could tell she was trying so hard to be nonchalant, but he could already smell her mounting arousal, feel the little shifts of her hips, the heat starting to radiate from her body.

She might have wanted this as much as he had.

"Yeah," he breathed, licking his lips, mouth suddenly very dry. "We're stuck until someone opens the door from the outside..." his voice trailed off, and there was a very pregnant pause, and then it was as if a sudden switch was flipped.

They were desperately grinding against one another, writhing within the small space, hips rolling and bumping as they tried to push themselves as close together as possible. She made soft moans and sighs as he hushed her gently, reminding her to be quiet.

"You don't want to get caught, do you? Or maybe you do, hnnnn? Do you like being watched?" his voice was unexpectedly low, and he felt his swelling cock throb as she gave a little whimper in response, but did not argue against him. "You do like being watched; what a dirty girl, I knew you were a freak," she heard his tail thump against the door the same time she felt his tongue, hot and wet against her ear, and she bucked her hips harder, a shiver running down her spine. She wished so badly to feel more of him, and as if he had read her mind she felt his clawed hands running up the length of her thighs, scratching her lightly, goosebumps racing along her skin.

He was unintentionally pushing her into the shelves, and she accidentally knocked over some spare boxes of pens and permanent markers, sending a couple of them clattering to the floor as one of his hands slipped under her skirt and quickly pulled aside her thin panties, pressing his digits against the outside of her soaked entrance. "Mmmmm, whoops--" one curious, insistent finger slid into her soft folds, and she was unable to stop the heady sound that fell from her lips. "You're just so wet..."

He fucked his finger in and out of her, adding a second digit, her sweet juices running down his hand and wrist as she drenched him, his unrelenting fingers brushing up against all the right spots. Mercifully, she'd found an old, spare blanket that was way back on one of the shelves, which she now pressed her face into, muffling her erotic cries.

"Fuuuck that's so hot," his breath was hot against her ear, voice again that low, rumbling tone. "Do it again..."

He made her come three more times on his fingers before he was satisfied, all the while feeling his rock hard cock grinding against her ass.

She felt a sudden molten surge of anticipation as she heard the clinking of his belt buckle being undone.

"Tell me little freak, is this your first dragon dick?" there was the soft sound of fabric hitting the floor, she felt the back of her pencil skirt being pulled up and something very hot was between her legs, pushing earnestly against her waiting pussy, her breath catching in her throat as he slowly filled her and then some, stretching her to her limit around his thick rod. She was seeing stars, feeling like he was going to split her in two as he made her take every inch of him. She had been right in her assumptions about his ridges, the extra texture rubbing against her insides in ways she hadn't felt before; it was amazing.

"Yeah," she managed to pant out, her legs already beginning to shake. "You're my first...it's so fucking good," she finished with a high pitched whimper as he gave a particularly rough shove, pushing his feet underneath hers so that she was standing on him. He held onto her hips, claws digging into her delicate skin, bouncing her up and down along his cock, pulling her back against him, using her like his little fuck toy.

Her mind clouded over, she couldn't think straight; all that she was able to process were the intense waves of pleasure that crashed over her again and again with every stroke of his cock, her pussy clenching and fluttering around his length as she came, squirting all over the floor and the shelves on front of her, his husky voice whispering and moaning in her ear.

"That's it cum for me baby...fuck you take me so well...I knew you would feel so fucking good on my dick; so wet and tight...cum for me again pretty girl..."

She became aware of something big pushing against her cunt, his rutting becoming more erratic as he fast approached his own climax.

"I'm gunna knot you," he grunted, grasping onto her hips tightly. "You're gunna look so pretty filled with my cum..." he abruptly rammed himself even deeper into her, his knot penetrating her already stuffed cunt and locking her to him as he gave a long, low growling moan, shooting her full of his hot load as he came. Her vision started to go black around the edges and she felt tingly all over, crying out in ecstasy into the blanket, coming with him for one final time.

She was overflowing with him by the time he was finished pumping out his orgasm into her, both of their juices mingling and staining much of the storage closet.

They remained entwined together as they caught their breath, his knot eventually relaxing and allowing him to slip out of her wetly, more of him dripping to the floor now that she didn't have his cock as a plug.

"You're gunna wanna clean that up before lunch hour is over," he chuckled lightly, getting his pants back on as his tail flicked against the doorknob, which turned and opened the door with ease. "By the way, the closet that does lock from the inside, is one floor up. We should really do this again sometime..."

[aaroleswapau]

Do you have any swap!franziska art? Wanna see more of her design

i unfortunately don't have any polished art of her bc i think when i drew this, my swap au hyperfixation was starting to wane, whoops! these are just some very quick sketches of what i wanted her new thing in the swap au to be.

(i will be putting old art of her old design if you want to see it under read more pftt [unfortunately not a lot of them bc i wasn't vibing with the old role i gave her so i wasn't drawing her a lot 😔])

oki doks, now time for a lore dump!!!!! (copy-pasting what i wrote on the bird app a long time ago):

ok, so the thing is, i gave a bit of redd white's role to mvk. my reasoning for that is since he's the one who killed gregory (who has mia's role), he'd have to take on that role too. when characters don't have any like, "exact" foils for their roles to be swapped with, i either make them stay the same or hobble some roles together. mvk's case was the latter.

so mvk runs a private eye that's connected to the prosecutor's office (he's corrupt bc have you seen that guy) and franziska happens to be working there.

mvk also happens to be one the people responsible for covering up the details about mia's death.

i wanted to change franziska's job from my first version of her bc she doesn't really have a connection to the supernatural, so i just gave her a job that works closely in the covering crimes too.

but yeah, fran has to meet gregory, and then she gets framed by redd white

and she's furious about it, of course! that fool works under her father, how dare he put the blame on her!

with how fran is supposedly cooperating with gregory, i think mvk would've really wanted her to catch the fall even with how much he cares about his daughter. he's an 'end justifies the means' kind of guy.

i don't think fran realizes until swap!jfa that it was her father who purposely tried to frame her and the one who ordered to kill gregory.

i think she'd feel really torn by that and the guilt with how miles defended her before knowing all that would've ate her up (the fact that gregory is dead, no spirit channeling or anything makes this more fucked up for them i think agfhhjh)

however, i still haven't figured out why franziska would agree to talk to gregory if he's investigating mia's death, and i'm not quite sure why gregory would've been investigating mia's death in the first place bc unlike mia in the regular verse, he'd have no connections to her case at least

(that would probably require some aai duology knowledge that i do not have right now ASKSKS)

my brain isn't fully working right now so i can't fully ramble on about her design, but i did think it was important to make her dress eccentric; and i know that everyone dresses eccentric in aa, but particularly that one point in turnabout sisters where april may should've remembered maya bc she dressed weird? i wanted the same for franziska ASKSKS roast her old-timey gothic looking ass!!!!!

and from my recent drawing of her, i think if i were to draw like, a polished ref for her, i would like to show the fact that her make-up is severe. again, 'eccentric' or whatever pftt

i originally had her be like a witch, some sort of seer who could communicate with the dead through her crystal ball. scrapped that and changed it bc it was just not digging my dudes asdghd a shame tho bc i'm rather fond of her big-ass veil witch hat thingy

[searchingforserendipity25]

not enough martial arts happening on ds9. jadzia's bat'leth skills are insane but we need more about how starfleet surely requires their officers to train self-defense in an individual and communal basis, especially in times of war.

kira and bajoran martial arts and their connection to spiritual practices as developed by different resistance cells - she'd do great as a much-requested monastic dojo teacher.

it would be lovely as a different form to contribute to her community, making use of her resistance days's skills and recognizing them while also celebrating new and old traditions.

o'brein and bashir's war games are escapism during an actual wartime, sure, but we need and deserve an 'miles o'brein secret coraíocht champion' episode. holo fighting rings!

keiko teaching basic jujutsu skills to her students, ferengi biting-and-kicking techniques saving nog and jake's life at least once.

give sisko a bo staff and the chance to whoop dukat's ass. i think this justifies itself.

last, but now least, doctor bashir. julian, who is constantly holding back his strength, speed and reaction time. he can learn any technique so fast, gauges every injury he allows himself to take, every choice to stand out - in microseconds. his violence is his own worst nightmare, for all his self-righteous quick temper, and especially because of it.

put him in a corner and pin him down. make him watch his friends get hurt until he starts getting feral. blood in his teeth, and all hell let loose.

[afewproblems]

Give me Steve, Eddie, and Robin at a bar on a Friday night.

They've had a few drinks, and a shot or two when a song comes on, and Steve immediately jumps to his feet with an, "Oh shit!!"

It's Madonna's Get Into the Groove and for a moment Robin and Eddie think Steve is in pain, that he hates the song as is going to ask the DJ to change it.

Except Steve waltzes onto the dance floor, right into the center.

There aren't too many others dancing, it's early still, barely nine in the evening but the spot lights are on and the DJ flicks on the multicolor strobe as Steve parks himself on the dance floor.

Robin laughs and wishes she had brought the disposable camera instead of leaving it in her junk drawer at home.

Eddie meanwhile rolls his eyes, and pretends not to notice the tightness of Steve's jeans or how the light catches the flecks of gold in his hair and eyes.

He's been attempting to hide his pathetic little crush for awhile now, complaining to Robin every chance he gets when Steve does something particularly charming or handsome.

She tells him, as sagely as she can muster, to grow a pair and do something about it already.

But how can he, Steve was, well, Steve...lovely caring, hot as hell, Steve.

What chance did Eddie have?

So he sits there, miserable, nursing his beer, letting his eyes trail after Steve while Robin giggles beside him.

They've never seen him dance, it's bar, they're drunk, the worst that could happen is he makes an ass out of himself and they all go home with a great new story to tell the party later.

God Robin really wishes she brought her camera with her.

But then Steve is moving and he's fluid, never missing a beat. It's some kind of choreography, intentional and practiced movements that wouldn't be out of place in a music video. Eddie and Robin look at each other because, what the fuck, where did this come from??

And people are cheering and whooping, strangers scattered here and there sitting off of the dance floor. There's a sense of comradery, like they're all witness to something and being allowed to share and indulge in this little impromptu performance, but all too soon the song is over and Steve heads back to his seat with a small round of applause and a blinding smile pulling at his flushed cheeks.

"Steve, what the fuck was that??" Robin blurts out before Steve can even sit. Eddie nods, a little dazed, beside her and tears at the paper label on his beer bottle, maybe if he can keep his hands occupied he can keep them to himself.

"What was what?" Steve breathes out as he hops onto the stool beside them, Robin in the middle.

Robin's mouth falls open as her face scrunches into something exasperated but fond, "What was--that! The dancing!"

"Oh, that," Steve huffs with a lazy smile, he leans his elbow on the sticky wood bar and waves at the bartender to signal for another gin and tonic, "I used to help Carol with her choreography for cheer".

Eddie pinches his thigh below the bartop and chews the inside of his cheek as the image of Steve in the Hawkins High cheer uniform begins to solidify in his minds eye, fuck.

Robin elbows Eddie without looking, somehow reading his mind, and throws her hands out, beckoning Steve to continue because that isn't nearly enough information.

"Yeah, she'd come up with routines and you know, they are meant to be done with more than one person, and I mean she and I were friends before Tommy so," he shrugs and smiles at the bartender as they pass him the drink, "I dunno, it was fun, and I remember that one the most".

"Plus," he says with a smirk, "Carol always said the best thing about dance is that you can tell who appreciates the performance and who appreciates the person doing it," he winks as Robin scoffs and calls him gross, but Steve isn't looking at Robin.

Eddie swallows as molten heat creeps up his neck and over his ears, the urge to hide his face, run for the door, melt into the floor, is immense.

But Steve doesn't move his gaze, he smiles softly at Eddie and winks again over Robin's head which she promptly drops into her hands.

"I'm surrounded by horny idiots," she grumbles but the words are muffled in the din of the bar and her own hands as Steve tips his head back to the dance floor and holds out his hand for Eddie to take.

[angermango]

"I'm not cooking or anything, this is just a silly idea- (looks down at canvas) ffffuuuu--"

...

so, first I only wanted to draw Professor Layton with a Reiterpallasch from Bloodborne because haha funny hat man with gun-sword, but then i ended up drafting concept art for "Laytonborne", apparently.

"Puzzles all over the shop... You'll be stuck on one of them, sooner or later."

extra artist commentary:

Layton

yes, this really did just start with me wanting to give Layton a Reiterpallasch because he's a canonical fencer and Bloodborne trick weapons absolutely slap. The Reiterpallasch is literally a rapier with a pistol attached that can mechanically switch to prime either the blade first or the gun first so you can stab and shoot someone at the same time.

Giving Hershel the Bloodborne makeover was kind of funny because he wears such a simple look in canon it was hard striking the right balance between his recognisable look and BB aestheic since Bloodborne loves embellishment especially via lots of belts/buckles and those weird shoulder-cape things. I tried to keep it simple enough though because as much as i think he could pull off a hunter ensemble i don't want to have to keep track of all the funky bits. the Top Hat Stays, of course.

Aurora

Aurora is eerily good a fit in a Soulsborne-esque setting considering she fits the criteria for a "Soulsborne maiden" classic archetype sort of character: After all she's a mysterious pale-haired young woman with mystical origins/powers and a foreign-sounding accent and may or may not have some connection to the wider lore and powers that be of the setting. hell even her whole thing being a golem works in a way as even Bloodborne has artificial humans existing as a concept.

i got a little lazy with changing up her dress for both time and lack of inspiration. I thought maybe i'd really do her up but then I chickened out that her costume wouldn't be recognisable any more so just slapped a belt and some patterns on the shawl bit and called it a night :P (if i'd been braver/more motivated she'd probably look good in an approximation of the White Church set, something like that)

and yeah so as the sketches off to the side are like, no real clue how/why it might be triggered but imagine her having the potential to be an optional boss or something (and she'd whoop your ass)

Flora

idk tho Flora also seems like she could be a good contender for the "Soulsborne maiden" position too in a way, or even if not her whole character and story fits into the world quite well. especially with Bloodborne having the Plain Doll who is a sentient doll made in the image of someone her creator loved/was obsessed with and Flora living in a village of human-like robots which started after her father tried to build a replacement for her dead mother.

Her dress is a combination of all her canon costumes across the games. The fur-trim shoulder cape is from one official art of her, the short shawl and white sleeves and bit around her waist is based on her first dress, and the rest of the dress design is based on her second and third game appearance.

The 'Doll Flora' concept there at the end is just some idea of a false/clone Flora running around as well. She's got some little differences including elements of other parts of Flora's designs over the years that aren't on OG Flora, such as the sash and shoes.

Anton

Anton fits in scarily well to the Bloodborne-y setting, perhaps not too surprisingly given the whole 'vampire' thingy. I sort of envision Folsense and Herzen Castle being a bit like the Castle Cainhurst area of Bloodborne which leans more into the classic gothic horror of a remote and looming haunted castle occupied by a sinister enigmatic character.

And yes, that is a reference to the infamous "LAYTOOON" scream from his canon 'boss fight' in the second game - imagine the whole steaming up and screaming thing being like his boss phase transition animation.

The whole 'withers to an old man/husk' concept seems so very Soulsborne-y it really just fits yknow. like if you defeat him he shrivels up/ages to dust or whatever. RIP gassed-up grandpa.

I partly rizzed up his suit using inspiration of the Cainhurst Knight set because like. come on. it's too good to pass up the chance to pretty up with and looks a lot like his canon suit in parts.

Did I trace the foyer background art for Herzen Castle for the mockup just for laffs, only to realise partway that 1) Layton and Anton actually fought in the ballroom, and 2) the ballroom would actually make a much better boss arena setting because it's wide open and the arch from the front room leading into the ballroom could totally be the 'boss fog door' part better than the front room?

...so yeah I then drew the ballroom background without tracing this time like a true madman and had a hell of a time with perspective but the plus side is we also get the sword collection from the game there as a cameo because in Laytonborne the good professor brought his own already.

The Masked Gentleman / Randall

Had a bit of a time deciding how to Bloodborne-ify this guy because his suit in canon is actually really. really boring. it's just a white suit like cmon. so to give it that Bloodborne makeover I fell back on the classic shoulder-cape thing that almost all Bloodborne characters have, added some patterns and accessories based on the Mask of Chaos' patterns and the Decorative Old Hunter's set from the Old Hunters DLC (in the leg brace, forearm guard and the hints of gold chains around the upper arms).

He also gets a Threaded Cane, another trick weapon of Bloodborne fame which is as it suggests: A cane weapon that works a bit like a baton/sword combo but in its alternate form it's a whip covered in serrated metal blades which form the cane itself when locked together.

It seems very appropriate for Randall to be like a boss who starts out as the Masked Gentleman and then at half-or-less health you break his mask, reveal Randall and then wings burst out of his back as he enters his second phase rage mode. This concept part felt more DSouls-y than Bloodborne-y to me i think since Bloodborne is less fantastical and leans more into the body horror/monstrous kind of boss transitions? But at the same time it was too good an opportunity to pass on at least sketching out, plus get you some sick fallen angel imagery out of it.

Also the hanging arm pose miiight be a bit inspired by Artorias of the Abyss. just a bit.

Descole

i recall seeing a post somewhere once with this very low-res rare art of Descole sitting in a throne from somewhere i have no idea what it was for. and I remember it kinda reminded me of Lady Maria's promotional art for the Old Hunters DLC so that's why the last picture of Descole exists.

mf already dresses so extra i legit could think of nothing to add to make him more Bloodborne-y unlike the others. I also used his canon sword's design from the games with a custom sheath because again couldn't really think of anything more to do to make him fit more when he's already got a cool signature weapon to show off.

[the-sweet-madame]

ʟɪɢʜᴛ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴛᴇᴀꜱᴇꜱ.(𝘔𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘯!𝘞𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘳 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳)

(Lowkey half assed whoops but it was funny 😔)

Warnings: Light cussing.

Summary: He does your eyeliner before going out on a date with you.

Female reader!

"Holy shit, can you stay still for one goddamned second?" He scowled at her.

Two roommates bickering with each other. How romantic. It was night, the stars twinkling from outside of the window. The light above spilling upon the two, the blankets and sheets tossed to the side as they temporarily shared the bed.

"Well, it's not my fault your touch is so surprisingly delicate! It tickles." She says, adjusting her position on his lap.

Her legs twisted around his waist while he held her chin, tilting it upwards as he held an eyeliner pen in his other hand.

"Move one more time and you can do your own eyeliner."

Though his threat was meaningless because they both knew he'd still do it away with another scowl.

"Sure, love."

Shockingly enough, it seemed like he bit back to throw a retort concerning her teasing gone and pressed the eyeliner pen to her skin. It was unusual for such a man that spoke so ruthlessly to have such tender touches. It was lighter than a feather, the faint strokes on her skin as his hand moved with calculated precision. It was pretty. His face. His amethyst-like eyes dipped into pure concentration to get the wings identical to each other. His lips pulled into a straight line, almost pressing them together as his eyebrows ever so slightly sunk in his focus.

It was only until he pulled away that she said. "You're pretty."

He blinked at her words before giving her a small scoff. Though, the light pink tinting the tip of his ears spoke enough.

"Does it look good?" She asked, looking at him.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Of course, it looks good, I did it."

"You know, a simple 'yes' could have sufficed? Or 'yeah, you look good.'"

If she had a penny for every time he rolled his eyes at her, she'd be rich. That's precisely what he did with a little devilish grin.

He cupped the side of her face, capturing her lips into a deep kiss before she could even think. His lips against hers muffled the little surprised noise she made. When he moved to pull away, she placed her hand on the back of his neck to pull him back in. It felt rough yet gentle, quick yet slow as their lips locked together.

They finally broke apart, panting slightly. His gaze was intense, teasing and tender all at once. He dragged his thumb down her bottom lip as he spoke lowly with a near-wicked smirk.

"You look hot as fuck.”

He had the audacity to laugh at her flustered reaction. She shoved him lightly with the blood rushing to her cheeks.

“You see, I would fight you right now, but I don’t want to risk my eyeliner getting ruined.” She huffed. “But thanks.”

“Excuses, excuses.” He mocked lightly. “So, are we going on that date or are you enjoying yourself here?” He gestures to her straddling him.

“I don’t know, it seems that you are the one enjoying yourself the most here.” She matches his tone with an enticing grin, circling her arms around his neck.

He rolls his eyes for nth time; she thinks he must’ve beat the world record of eye rolling at this point. But he leans down until their noses are touching once again with a teasing smile. Their breaths mingling with each other as their eyes were locked into a never-ending trance. The light-heartedness fading into something else. Something more genuine. She couldn’t look away, not when his violet eyes were so electrifyingly intense, crackling with sincerity. They didn’t feel it, but they were inching closer and closer. Their lips almost meeting, the air suffocating as it embraced them.

“Though, I do wanna go on that date.” She speaks just as their lips barely brush against each other.

He pushed her off his lap, sending her into the hurdle of blankets and sheets on the side.

[redclercs]

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

vii. all of my enemies started out friends

— the one where you get the sense you've been betrayed.

warnings: death threats, foul language, a panic attack. 2.7k words. (+written articles) not proofread whoops.

masterlist ✢ next

By Alana Blake

WELL, all of our doubts have been cleared, here is the reason as to why our ex favorite couple called it quits months ago. Thank you to our anonymous source for spilling the tea!

First things first, let's not lie to ourselves, we all thought it had been Aidan Kim who had finally dumped y/n's ass for good. But as it turns out, he wanted to keep her forever? Aidan, boy...

Anyway, one night in February (ehem Valentine's Day, so cliché) he dropped down on one knee, popped the question with a beautiful Tiffany's ring and... Y/N SAID NO! Insert gasps here.

Without a good enough reason to justify her denial, y/n immediately ran to the opposite coast, where she currently resides with best friend, beauty guru and influencer Victoria Presley.

RELATED: Victoria Presley inaugurates first 'Presley Beauty' store in Beverly Hills.

Our source also confirmed y/n's blooming romance with Formula 1 pilot, Charles Leclerc.

"They are seeing each other, yes," the source said, "y/n doesn't want to call it a 'thing' since she's probably going to get bored of the poor guy.''

Well, there you have it. It looks like y/n's only talent is being a maneater. Somebody warn Charles Leclerc he's just piece of meat in the eyes of y/n!

SEE ALSO:

→ Victoria Presley attends the Monaco Grand Prix.

→ y/n y/ln reportedly auditioned for 'The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes'

→ Aidan Kim is currently recording his first solo album.

𝙂𝙊𝙏 𝙎𝙊𝙈𝙀𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙏𝙊 𝙎𝘼𝙔? 𝙇𝙀𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝘼 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙈𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝘽𝙀𝙇𝙊𝙒!

You're seeing the top comments.

Anonymous – 4 hr ago

If I ever see y/n on the street i will literally kill her

sk12z8io – 3 hr ago

I KNEW SHE NEVER DESERVED AIDAN

mickeyyy – 40 min ago

she fucking cheated you cannot convince me otherwise

chiqin– 10 min ago

oh she's vile, rejecting a marriage proposal and getting together with another dude two months later? TRASH.

Anonymous – 10 min ago

I want to know who the source is and why are they speaking until now

WHO would have thought? y/n y/ln the "Queen of RomComs" where cheating is basically a Deadly Sin, is in fact, a cheater!

The news about y/n rejecting Aidan Kim's marriage proposal came out only a few hours ago via Inside Out, and while they claim y/n didn't have a good enough reason not to get engaged to Kim, we believe quite the opposite.

Having a side-piece is a perfectly good reason, actually. Sources, who wished to remain anonymous, confirmed that at the time of the proposal, y/n was already seeing Monegasque pilot Charles Leclerc, but they had been able to keep it a secret until Elix contract made y/n start showing up at Grand Prix.

Although the information spreading around is still unclear, we can be sure of two things: Aidan Kim dodged a bullet and y/n is probably the worst person on Earth.

#Y/NIsOverParty

June 3rd Barcelona, Spain.

You're sitting with Charles and Carlos when you get the first ping on your phone. You don't give it much thought, Mildred told you she'd send you two script excerpts she wanted you to practice for an audition video, plus your phone doesn't even really stop ringing.

Spain has been fun so far, you have been around both Carlos and Charles around a lot lately. Carlos is always keen on dropping facts about his country and you got, just like with Charles, his special edition Ferrari merch. This time you wear it, because fuck fashion podcasts.

Charles doesn't let this slip, feigning annoyance that you prefer to wear a Spain cap than a Monaco one, and telling you he will in fact take it personally. But he doesn't, of course, he's thrilled you're more comfortable around both of them. Enough to join them for dinner yesterday and today.

The Ferrari boys are talking about FP3 and how Qualifying might go later. They've done pretty well this weekend, and you're hoping Carlos will end the Grand Prix on the podium like Charles did last week.

"Is that your phone?" Carlos asks, he's tried his best for the last few minutes to ignore the never-ending flow of notifications, even after you've silenced it, the vibration still makes him lose focus on the conversation.

"Sorry," you wince, knowing how annoying it is. "It's probably Vic."

"Everything okay?" Charles frowns, following your hands as you take your phone out of your pocket again to activate the Do Not Disturb.

"Yeah, I don't—"

Your sentence hangs in the air unfinished as you read the screen, the last notification comes from Matilde an 'are you okay? call me' text. And then your eyes slide to the BREAKING NEWS from People Magazine, whose notifs you forgot to deactivate. You don't even know why you have the app anymore.

The preview shows your picture, a red x on your face and the words 'Cheater Alert' capitalized and bold.

"y/n?" you see the motion of Carlos' hand from the corner of your eye, but by now, you're obsessively scrolling down the 150+ notifications on your phone. Texts, calls, e-mails, tweets, comments.

You stop in the INSIDE OUT EXCLUSIVE the moment your eyes catch the word 'ring'.

They know.

And if they know, everyone knows.

Charles pushes his chair back, making the half empty styrofoam cup of coffee you were drinking spill all over the table. "What's wrong?"

Aidan has told them. Aidan fucking Kim, petty and vengeful Aidan Kim has told them about the ring. Because he wants to bury you so far down, you'll never be able to claw your way out of the hole.

Who else could have been? You told no one. Not a soul. How can a person not even tell their parents that she got a marriage offer and said no immediately, right before hopping on a plane to the other side of the country?

But cheating? Where the fuck did that come from? He's even lying now. Because he hates you, of course he hates you. Aidan Kim is not used to humilliation and that's what you did when you rejected him. And although it was an unspoken accord that you wouldn't tell anyone about it, he has done so, because what is better for his upcoming album than being the heartbroken artist with the bitch for an ex.

People are going to write 'It's your loss y/n!' with their proof of streaming for a retweet from Aidan's account, managed by a 34-year-old guy who can't stand Aidan's fans on a normal basis.

"I– I have to–" your mouth is dry, tongue thick and heavy, and you feel the cold shower of anxiety from your nape to your tailbone. This can't be happening.

And you don't know what you have to do. Call Mildred and Walter? Ask them what the fuck is going on over there and start an actual damage control PR thing? It's too late for that.

"What can we do?" Carlos questions this time, worry flows in his voice at the change in your semblance. "What can we do for you?"

You're scared, because people have talked shit endlessly for weeks thinking it had been Aidan who dumped you, changing the narrative, twisting it time and time again.

They have suspected you broke up with Aidan, they have dragged you through the mud, called you heartless for getting over him so quickly. Paired you up with Charles and called you both problematic for breathing around each other and being friends.

And they might have forgiven you eventually, but not if you actually broke Aidan Kim's heart and burned down his dream of a house, a marriage and a happy family. And by cheating.

He's lying, but who would believe you?

Your already agonizing career is never coming out of this. And at this point, maybe acting seems irrelevant compared to the way people are going to treat you from now on. No one forgets a woman who humiliates a man so publicly. She doesn't deserve to be forgiven, not when she's such a bitch.

"I can't breathe," you wheeze, clutching your hand against the fabric of your shirt. Your hands are prickling, and your brain is fogged, foreign. "I can't breathe."

Neither man touches you as you lean down, hands on your knees, shutting your eyes so hard you think your eyeballs might explode.

You feel one of the boys move, but you don't open your eyes to see who left. Your priority is getting air into your lungs, and you can't seem to do even just that.

"y/n," Charles is the one who stayed, and despite speaking slowly, you recognize the underlying panic there. "I'm going to touch you, okay?"

Your only response is a strangled noise as you breathe through your mouth.

Charles runs his hand down your back, you can feel his rings and the heat of his palm. “Try to breathe through your nose, y/n.”

He feels stupid for saying it, but it’s the only advice he sees fit. Carlos left to look for the medical staff that Ferrari takes with them everywhere.

You squeeze your thighs with your hands and again take a gasp of air. “I can’t. Help me, I can’t.”

Charles makes you straighten up by grabbing your shoulders gently. “Please try. You’re speaking you can breathe.”

You breathe through your nose, but it isn’t enough to relieve the pressure on your chest.

Carlos comes back just when you feel like you will pass out. And you let the medical staff lead you away, leaving both your friends behind, worried sick and wondering what could have possibly triggered you like that.

You're still lying in the gurney after Qualifying is done. The medical team doesn't let you watch it, you should not be subjected to strong emotions right now. The thing is, the strong emotions haven't even started. You need to talk to your team, and you want to talk to Aidan. You've only heard from him twice since your breakup in February, the last time three days ago when he texted you 'out of SoHo'.

In all honesty, you're not certain you'll be able to hold a conversation with him without telling him to go fuck himself or having another panic attack. But you must know the reasoning behind his actions, no matter how stupid it is. How angrier it will make you. You want to understand why the person that once loved you is stabbing you in the back like this.

You're free to go an hour later, and it's some kind of miracle that you're relieved of your Elix duties. Maybe it has to do with the disaster that Ferrari's Quali was, in contrast to the Free Practices. No one wants to make things worse, or have pictures to remember it.

By the time you're back in your hotel room, Aidan's campaign has been transported to Youtube. And it's only 10 am in Los Angeles.

FROM AIDAN KIM’S YOUTUBE CHANNEL “STATEMENT ON RECENT NEWS”

You are looking at the top comments.

star5dan he had to find out he got cheated on thanks to People? fuck

flowerbedkim I'm not even joking, i will end y/n

dropbeats1 it takes a lot of courage to propose, y/n is def a bitch

stardomyn you knew y/n for years and you can't defend her? she is obviously not a cheater.

aidanyn this keeps getting worse i can't pick a side😭

You read the articles sitting in your bed. Legs crossed and back curved, with your shoulders slumping forward. It's like you have the whole weight of the world back in them, and you're not even sure you're strong enough to carry it anymore.

Did you really not have a good enough reason to say no? Not having a good reason to say yes should be enough, at least that's the way you think about it.

But you had many, many reasons. Some you'd denied yourself to even think about before he pulled the ring out of his pocket.

Every relationship has its ups and downs, you knew that. You know that. But how long can you stay in an all time low?

Maybe you lied to yourself saying Aidan had never hinted marriage was in his plans. He mentioned it in interviews, and in casual conversations with other people. He would tell you that “in the future” you’d have to reconsider being an actress. That you should really think about the roles you wanted to take on so they didn’t haunt you (and you hypothetical children) in the future.

Aidan would drop comments about how you should stick to the easy parts of acting, making the same movies, for example. How you should behave a certain way and shut your mouth in specific occasions.

How you had to change yourself to fit into what he wanted.

And you did. Because at first, it wasn’t that he wanted you to change for him. He made you think he wanted you to change for your own good.

And that night in February, you realized you were scared. The thought of spending the rest of your life like that terrified you. So you ran, and that was really the bravest thing you could have done.

And the bravest thing you can do now is stand up to him. Because he cannot keep on stepping on you and destroying what you built for yourself.

"Hello?"

You're shocked he actually picks up your call but you can't back down now.

"What the fuck, Aidan?" you try not to raise your voice, you do your best to help the strain that comes from not crying. You're furious, not sad, but you know Aidan won't recognize the difference. "What the fuck is this whole circus you're putting up now?"

The way he chuckles makes you want to throw your phone across the room.

"Do you really think that was me?" he asks, changing his voice to a lower tone. "Do you think I willingly say the girl I invested three years of my life on said she didn't want to marry me?"

"Well who else could have been? Do you think I'm stupid?"

"It was not me, y/n! Jesus Christ I don't know how many people—"

"So it was your sister, that bitch?"

"Don't you call me sister a bitch ever again."

Well Mia Kim is a bitch. And she was for the whole three years you dated Aidan.

Starting with telling anyone who would listen that you were after Aidan for clout, even after you hooked her up with your acting instructor and helped her get a minor role in Outer Banks. Comments on your appearance, on your acting, and the way you Aidan and you got along. And the worst part was that every time you two saw each other she acted like she adored you.

"She is a bitch, Aidan, and this is something she would do out of spite! Also, cheating? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"I don't put anything past you, y/n." Aidan chuckles again, it's sarcastic and bothersome.

"Fuck you, Aidan. We knew each other for years, and suddenly I'm the worst person on Earth?"

"Yeah, maybe you always were and whoever is letting people know is doing the world a huge favor."

Your skin isn't thick enough yet, and his words hit the way he intended.

"I'm glad people are eating you alive, y/n," he continues as your silence prolongs, you can't swallow the tears now. "It's what you deserve."

He hangs up before you can respond, and it doesn't matter anymore. There's nothing you can say to make him admit to his crimes, and he's happy. He's happy you're being torn down in such a vile way.

The phone inside your hotel room rings and you pick it up before being able to pull yourself together. The 'what?' that lashes out catches the woman downstairs off guard, and this is another thing you add to the list of things that make you the worst person on planet Earth.

"Someone is here for you, Miss y/ln," she says in an apologetic tone, "Mr. Leclerc?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to speak to you like that," you take a deep breath, and then process her words. "Leclerc?"

"Hmhmm," she hums, "Should I send him upstairs?"

The alarm clock next to the phone shows 19:57 in red and you remember you agreed to meet him and Carlos for dinner at seven thirty. You didn't even shower or changed.

"Uh– yeah, please do."

You splash cold water on your face and brush your teeth in the two minutes it takes him to get to your room.

Charles knows there's something wrong the moment you open the door, and it doesn't take a genius, really. But you wish he was oblivious to the way you look and the off-putting energy you give off.

"I'm sorry I'm late," you say making space for him to enter the mess of a room you have. "Is Carlos waiting downstairs?"

"He's at the restaurant already," Charles shrugs, it doesn't matter that you've made them both wait over twenty minutes. "Are you okay?"

You sit on your bed, letting him stand in the middle of the room, like a mannequin out of place. You have two options, lying to him, pushing everything under the rug and lookin for your purse to meet Carlos downstairs. Or tell the truth and burst out crying in front of him.

You don't like either.

So you stay silent, looking at patterns in the rug and trying to get your racing brain to come to a stop, if only to have a decent meal with the two guys that saw you panic hours ago.

Charles sits down next to you, the mattress gives to his side, sinking. "Do you want to talk about it?"

You eye his hand as he places it on top of the washed out knee of his jeans. The prominent veins and the three rings on his fingers. You remember the way it felt when he ran his hand down your back.

"I don't." you reply, taking your eyes back to his face. You wonder if he knows, just doesn't want to mortify you about it. That he's 'just a piece of meat' and a 'homewrecker'. You wonder if Carlos knows too.

"Do you still want to come downstairs?" Charles tilts his head, giving you a smile that lifts one corner of his mouth.

"Sure, let's do that," you get up from the bed smoothing your jeans down although there's nothing wrong with them, and regaining that self-consciousness that you didn't even change your clothes for dinner while Charles is looking like that in a clean white shirt. "Sorry for being late."

Charles lets you roam around the room looking for your purse for two minutes, still sitting on the edge of your bed, before speaking again. "We really like you, y/n. I really like you."

You snap out of your self-induced trance, pretending like you were checking you had everything you needed in your purse. "What?"

"Carlos and I really like you, and so does Matilde, and that friend of yours Victoria. You're not alone, I hope you know that."

He's seeing right through you again.

And the effort that took you to pull yourself together and the self-deprecating words that ran through your head to force yourself not to cry in front of him are all left behind, as you burst out crying.

You let Charles hold you, his right hand on the nape of your neck while the other soothes you the way it did earlier. He doesn't complain about the way your tears stain his shirt, and doesn't even make a sound as you sob.

And you stay like that for as long as you need to, although you haven't cried nearly enough. It has to suffice for now. Because you have to go back to L.A. and fix the mess Aidan created.

─── team principal radio: ❝i feel like i'm doing rowoon super dirty by having him as aidan kim, tbh. anyway, i hope you enjoyed this chapter! reblogs and comments/asks are highly appreacited, i'd love to know your thoughts!♡❞

✰ paddock club members: @sassyheroneckgiant @flowerchild-96 @fangirlika @shegotboreddsoo @roseamongthorns13 @cissyp @chimchimjiminie16 @saturnsrinqs @roni-midnights @gayyvodka6 @studioreader @its-ash-not-grey @lu-morningstar-2 @ferraribabe @reidsworld @feelslikestrawberries @celestialams @kosmosgalore @heeseung-baby @missenclod @buendiabebeta @mycenterfold @aces-tattooartist @burningrred @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @rainybabe25 @ru-kru @lazybot @teenagedreams-cl @cool-ultra-nerd @kuskumu @formulakay3 @bisexual-desi @somanyfandomsbruh @icarus-nex @haziefairy @xjval @xoxoloverb @sainzleclercs @headinthecloudssblog @incoherenciass @bookophiliac @torrie421 @nooshytushie @azxulaa

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[dronebiscuitbat]

Give Me a Reason: Chapter 3 -"Ew… Lettuce"

The cafeteria was loud with the murmur of high school students, and Uzi was already gritting her teeth, it wasn't so much the volume that got to her as much as the consistency, it didn't really matter what she did, there was always noise. And it was making her more irritable then normal.

“Did you hear about Rodney?”

“And Like, I told him it was fine or whatever.”

“God my uncle is so hot…”

She got snippets of conversations as she made her way to the lunch line despite her best efforts to block them put, she put an earbud in to try and help to block out the constant noise, but it only helped so much.

She picked up a stainless steel tray, ones that reminded her of the one's in prison shows. And she wouldn't be surprised if they were the same honestly. The quality of the food had to be similar, anyway.

Speaking of, a lady in a haircut dumped a spoonful of mushy peas, then a spoonful of carrots, and a sandwich on her plate, none of it looked appetizing in the slightest, the peas didn't even look like they had salt on them.

She sighed as she moved through the line, grabbing a milk cartoon that had a 15 percent chance of being spoiled and a cup of peaches. Before finding an empty table to sit at near the middle of the cafeteria. If it was anything like last year, people would avoid sitting here unless they didn't have anywhere else to go.

She broke into the peaches immediately, it was the only thing that ever had a chance to taste any good, since it was prepackaged little fruit cups instead of being “cooked” by the staff.

“Hey Uzi!”

N came to sit beside her, something she should have probably been preparing for, considering his behavior all day, but it still caught her off guard and she found herself choking on a peach as she startled, she beat her chest a few times, struggling to breathe until she was able to force it back down her throat.

“Whoops! Sorry! I need to stop sneaking up on you.” He laughed lightly as he sat his backpack down between his legs and started digging into it, by the sounds of it, the thing was almost full to bursting.

“You got your backpack.” She hummed, trying to play off the fact she'd nearly died in front of him. What a way to go, death by peach.

“Well it has my lunchbox in it… can't really forget that when my stomach feels like it's about to digest itself.” He replied, pulling out a blue lunchbox that had been completely stickerbombed with dog stickers, you could barely tell the box underneath was blue to begin with.

He unclamped the lunchbox to reveal one of the best looking packed lunches Uzi had ever seen, there was a plastic covered bowl of soup, crackers, a whole ass salad and a tuna sandwich with the crust cut off.

Because of course the crust was cut off.

“Holy crap. Who packed your lunch? A chef?” Maybe that question was a little rude, or a little loud. And Uzi found her face heating up as she heard it come out of her mouth. Why was she like this? That was such a weird question what is wrong-

“Oh.” He laughed a little nervously, and his cheeks were dusted pink “N-no that would be my older sister, Tessa, she packs all our lunches.”

“Looks way better then…this.” As she said that, she stuck a plastic spoon into the green mush that was supposed to be peas, lifted it above the tray and dropped some off the edge, the peas slid off the spoon and met the rest on the tray with a wet and disgusting slap.

“Gross.” She muttered, leaving the overcooked peas alone in favor of the sandwich. Well… at least it was hard to fuck up a sandwich.

“You wanna share? Tessa always packs too much.” He offered, giving her a genuine smile as he also eyed the peas with apprehension.

The heat on Uzi's face worsened, she'd just met this guy today, she wasn't that interesting she was sure, so what was this boys actual deal? Did he have a goth fetish? He probably had a goth fetish.

“And let you poison me or something? No way.” She grumbled, knitting her brow into a frown and looking away, she wouldn't let this rando get any closer, not until she figured him out.

“Why- Why would I poison you? Also that would imply that I'm risking eating poisoned food as well.” He looked a little confused, but also fairly amused, with one eyebrow up in curiosity but a half-smile on his face.

“Bite me. I don't want your food!” In indignation, she bit into the sandwich she'd been provided with without checking what was on it, and it gave a good crunch.

What? Oh. Oh no.

There was lettuce, fucking lettuce, it felt like thin rubber and tasted like lame water and almost instantly set off every single nope response off in her brain, she gagged, immediately covering her mouth as her eyes watered.

Of all the food aversions, why did her brain bless her with one to the texture of lettuce.

“Woah, Uzi! Are you okay?” N Immediately leaned forward, hovering but not quite placing his hand over her back and she immediately lept for a napkin and coughed her lungs out into it until the flavor and texture was out of her mouth.

She was silent for a moment before she crushed the napkin in her fist and flipped open the sandwich to glare at the offending green, which whoever had made her sandwich had piled on like it was about to go out of style, she couldn't even tell what the other ingredients were aside from mayo.

“Fucking seriously!?” She exclaimed a little louder then intended, as the sandwich mocked her, apparently one could fuck up a sandwich.

“Wow that's a lot of lettuce.” N remarked, before looking over at her with a look of concern. “Are you alright?”

“M’fine. Just don't like lettuce.” That was a severe understatement, but N didn't really need to know that.

She waved him off, grumbling, looks like it was peaches and corn for her lunch today, great. Hopefully she could scrounge for something else when she got home, wouldn’t be the first time she would have to without.

Then, without warning, there was a crustless tuna sandwich being offered to her, along with N's beaming smile, she still wanted to say no, but damn that sandwich looked good and having eaten only half her breakfast… she was hungry.

She took it from him, giving him a side eye and a mumbled “Thank you.” As she took a bite of it tentatively.

“I promise it's not poisoned.” He chuckled, turning to dig into the bowl of soup he also had, but Uzi barely heard him, she couldn't belive she was about to think this about a simple sandwich, but it was one of the best tuna sandwiches she'd ever had, it also had some kinda of rich cheese and… something else that was probably really expensive.

“Oh my God this is so good…” She said after taking several bites of it, she probably looked like a pig. But she didn't care at the moment.

“Yeah that's Tess's cooking… glad you like it!” He beamed, dunking a cracker in his soup and popping it in his mouth, then sticking his tongue out in some goofy pleased expression.

Uzi couldn't help it, he looked so silly. She snorted and giggled, something that sounded completely foreign coming out of her mouth. If anything N's smile got even wider as he was able to draw a genuine laugh out of someone.

After her little outburst, she found herself a little bit embarrassed. It wasn't often she genuinely laughed, even less in front of someone she barely knew, but something about N’s vibe was making it easy to let down her guard.

Which… was a little bit scary, and Uzi didn't know what to think about that.

Next ->

[mickandmusings]

ii. crash my party

part two of the 'hangman & honey' series!

summary: when his original plans to bring honey to homecoming fall flat, jake thinks he's secured a fail-safe plan for honey to still have the night she deserves. when that too comes crumbling to pieces, jake, like always, is there to patch it back up. because jake is always the one to take care of her. they knew everything about each other...right?

word count: 5.6k

warnings: angsty -> fluffy, shitty homecoming dates, unbearable tension, i'm aware jake would only have a learner's permit but we don't follow the laws in small towns

-

It had started with one simple conversation.

"Jake, humor me," she'd started, finally closing her hardback book, looking up at him from across the table they'd been sharing in the school cafeteria. "A school dance? What part of that seems like a place I'd want to spend my Saturday?"

Jake smiled. "Hm, because I'll be there."

He gave her a shit-eating grin before shoveling fries into his mouth. Honey had rolled her eyes, forcing herself not to break into a grin as well. She stole a fry from his tray and swallowed before shaking her head and giving her retort.

"You're going to be there with Katie, and I highly doubt she'd want me hangin' around all night. She's like, majorly in love with you. I'm not going to be your third wheel, people already think I'm weird because I'm always taggin' along with you. I don't need to give them more fuel for the fire."

Ignoring the jab Honey gave herself, Jake tried to think of another approach. He hadn't wanted to go to this dance with Katie at all. He internally scolded himself-Katie was a sweet girl, pretty too, but as Honey had mentioned, Katie was in love with Jake. He just simply didn't feel the same. Suddenly, as if a light bulb had flickered above his head, Jake perked up.

"What if someone asks you to homecoming? Would you double date with me?"

Honey cut her eyes to his forest-green ones, looking away briefly before chewing on her bottom lip. She looked down at her hands, twisting the garnet ring adorning her right ring finger.

"That's sweet, Jake, but you and I both know that won't happen." She pauses, placing the ring back in position. "But, metaphorically speaking, if some random guy decided it wouldn't be social suicide to go with me, then, yeah, I'd double date."

Honey could feel the blush rising to her cheeks, she was positive Jake was the only guy in the entire school that had ever talked to her, much less look at her in any romantic nature.

Her confirmation was all Jake had needed, and he was already on a mission that he was sure he'd succeed in. As the lunch bell rang and he parted ways with Honey, he put his plan into action. Sitting in his fifth period Biology class, he turned to the seat behind him, a good-natured smile on his face. Hayden Wright, Jake's football teammate and friend, stared back at him. The teenage boy raised an eyebrow and gave Jake a look.

"What do you want, Seresin? You've got that stupid look on your face."

Jake scoffed, "First off, fuck you. Second, I've come to cash in my favor, Wright."

Jake had done Hayden a solid nearly a month ago, helping him in cleaning up his family's trashed barn from one of their post-game parties (to save him an ass-whooping from his father), and Hayden had agreed to owing Jake one, he'd just never thought Jake would actually ask him for one.

"What'd ya want?" Hayden's face had been neutral, figuring Jake wanted him to put in a good word with one of the cheerleaders, or to get Hayden's older brother to buy him alcohol.

"You know my friend, Honey?"

Hayden's eyebrow raised at Jake's word.

"The one that sits with you at lunch? I mean, yeah I know of her, why?"

"You're going to take her to homecoming." Jake said the statement plainly, so there would be no question.

Hayden audibly laughed. "Good one, Jake."

"I'm not joking, Wright," Jake's voice had taken a different tone. There was no more lighthearted humor to it, only a sense of seriousness. "I was already planning to take her, but Katie asked me before I could ask Honey myself. The only way she'll go is if she thinks she's not someone's tag-along. I'm not asking you to wine and dine her, asshole, I'm asking you to pick her up, give her a corsage, just-just fuckin' talk to her. Treat her like you would anyone else. She's not going to fall in love with you because you gave her an ounce of your precious attention. You owe me, man."

"Seresin, I already planned on asking Sam Van-"

"Be real, Wright," Jake's eyes were sharp, now daggers. "No shot in hell Sam Vance is going to say yes to you. Honestly, in my opinion, Honey is too good for you, way too good for you, but I'm desperate at this point. You'll ask her-in person-today, after practice. You'll ride with me and Katie, wear a nice suit and bring a corsage. She likes magnolias." Jake's statement left no room for leeway. It was set in stone, Hayden would ask her, be there with bells on, or else. Even as an underclassmen, Jake was easily on the taller side of his teammates, with the muscle to match-his daily farmwork had aided him in that department. Combined with his family's influence, you simply didn't want to be on his bad side.

Hayden sighs, his face drawn in a tight line.

"Fine, but consider my debt paid indefinitely, won't pull this shit again. If I'm going to have to take this girl, what the fuck am I supposed to talk to her about? I don't know the first thing about 'er."

Jake chuckles.

"Lucky for you, she's not much of a talker. Won't be to you, anyways. She likes to read, a lot. Ask her about literally any book. She's funny, just talk about whatever, she'll find a way to make you laugh. Just because she's not a cheerleader doesn't mean she isn't worth your time. Just for once in your life, just one night, don't be a dickhead."

-

Honey had been foolishly naive in thinking someone like Hayden Wright would actually be interested in someone like her. She'd felt the sinking feeling enter her chest the day he'd asked her to go to homecoming with him, starting small at first, but growing large enough to fill her anxiety-ridden torso. She'd felt the feeling lingering in her gut when she'd tried on and bought the flowing white dress that adorned her frame. She'd swallowed it down, buried it deep, told her internal insecurities that maybe, for once in her life, something good would happen to her. When that looming feeling had festered forward again that afternoon, as she meticulously curled her hair in Jake's bathroom, she had plastered on a smile and kept going, telling herself it was only a feeling.

But now, as she sat horribly mistaken on the steps of the Seresin farmhouse, she no longer stomached the feeling. Hayden was supposed to be here over an hour and half ago, and he had yet to show. Honey knew he wouldn’t, she’d expected it. She swallowed thickly and looked on as the sun made Katie look radiant in a way Honey knew she would never be-girls like Honey simply didn't shine like that. She let that aching feeling fester forward as she watched Katie laugh next to Jake in front of Janet's rosebushes, tears lining her lashes. The ridiculous eye makeup she'd spent an hour on had gone to waste, along with the heels she'd splurged on. She had almost unbuckled them and tossed them to the side when Janet's voice sounded.

"Honey, sweetheart, c'mon over, I want some pictures of you and Jake."

Honey had smiled and wiped her eyes, standing as tall as she could next to Jake in front of the Seresin's towering magnolia tree. She'd painted on her best smile, avoiding Jake's gaze that was staring holes into the side of her head. He hadn't said anything, and she didn't expect him to. Just because her night turned out to be miserable didn't mean his had to. He and Katie would go to the dance, and she'd stay with Seresin's, probably watch westerns with Jacob Sr. until he fell asleep in his recliner, then she'd take herself up to Jake's room and read until he came back. Maybe she'd just go home, despite hating being there because of the loneliness, so she wasn't a bother to anyone at all. The Seresin family was too kind to her, and she'd never want to overstay her welcome.

"Well, it's a quarter til', you young folk should be headin' along," Jacob Sr.'s voice sounded. Honey smiled as Katie hung off of Jake's arm, and Honey turned back towards the porch of the house, sitting back down on the stairs and started to unbuckle her shoes. Jacob Sr.'s eyes cut to her frame, and his eyebrows furrowed.

"Honey, what are you doin', girl? Not too sure on the dress code at this function, but I imagine shoes are required."

Jake's eyes looked at the figure of his best friend sitting on his grandparents' porch, and a feeling he had never felt seeped completely down to his bones. He hadn't even bothered to take her in completely since she'd gotten dressed, too focused on getting himself ready. Honey was dazzling as the sunset framed her figure. The color of her dress brought out her skin, and her hair had been styled lightly, but just enough to frame her face. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. But when he finally braved looking into her eyes, his heart ached. Sadness pooled behind her irises, water forming in her waterline. Her smile contradicted all of the feelings he knew were stirring inside of her, and every cell in his body wanted to shed his dress clothes, pile into his truck and hunt Hayden Wright down to beat the shit out of him.

"Oh, um," Honey started, as if she couldn't find the words to say. "My date isn't comin', I-I don't think I'll go. I'm just gonna go home." She smiled a smile that would appear unbothered by anyone else, but Jake knew that smile. It was entirely fake, an action to keep herself from bursting into tears. She was often so quiet and so good at saving face that it was hard to see her suffering, but Jake saw through her completely, he knew her 'strong' look. Jake jumps into action, without even thinking of how it may make the girl on his arm feel.

"Not a chance, Honey," Jake started, walking across the yard. "Just because Hayden is a jerk, doesn't mean you don't deserve to go. You look beautiful, can't let that go to waste. C'mon, you can hang out with us."

He sticks a hand out and looks down at her. She sighs heavily, taking it, and Jake feels his skin light up. His hairs stand on end, and after all these years, he notices every color in Honey's eyes. He notes the curves of her cheeks, the beauty of her entire figure. He finds himself feeling an overwhelming urge to press his lips into hers. How had he never seen her before? She had spent half of their lives by his side. She knew everything about him, from his favorite foods to the things that kept him up at night. Jake's eyes dart between her own as his heart races in his chest. Jake Seresin was in love with his best friend- head over heels, jumping into the deep end, full force in love. He stands stock still, her hand on his own, for a moment too long.

"Well, we're going to be late if we don't come on." Honey's voice is small, not quiet like usual, but small. She tears her hand away as she makes it down the stairs, giving Katie a curt smile as Katie's arm links around Jake's. He helps Katie into his passenger side, feeling a bit odd that Honey wouldn't be just to his right. Honey climbs into the backseat, her bottom lip tucked in-between her teeth, hands mindlessly rotating the rings on her hands. As Katie chatted animatedly in the truck, Honey only smiled politely, speaking when only necessary. She was utterly miserable, and Jake could see it. It was written across her face so plainly. For most of the night, that look never left her face.

Loud music, the sounds of their classmates yelling at one another to talk, and flashing lights filled the small high school gym, a basketball court full of underclassmen couples swaying to a song Honey didn't recognize. She was wishing she'd brought her current read with her, not that she'd be able to see it in the dark room. Instead, she sat in her metal folding chair at the table Jake and his friends had claimed, watching all the other girls' shoes and purses. As she looked out at the group, she couldn't quell the hurt in her heart that she'd tried swallowing down a million times that night. Katie threw her head back laughing at something Jake had said, though Jake didn't look nearly as amused as her. Her eyes focused on Katie alone-she danced barefoot in front of Jake, her turquoise colored dress shimmering under the lights. She wore a wide smile, one that lit up her whole face. Honey burned with envy. Of course that was the type of girl Jake went to dances with. Katie practically glowed-everyone loved her. The type of girl that guys would never stand up, the girl that guys stopped and stared when she walked by. And no matter how Honey yearned and prayed at night, begging to God to be that kind of girl-the girl that lights up a room, one that makes everyone's head turn-she would never be that. She'd always be bookish, timid, she shook with nerves when she had to give presentations in class, much less in a room full of her entire student body. Without much further thought, she suddenly realized it wasn't the fact she wanted to be loved by everyone, she just wanted to be the kind of girl Jake loved. Jake would never see her as anything more than a sort of quasi-sister, someone to give him advice on how to treat another type of girl right. Even without malice, Jake would hurt her too, and she knew it would leave her empty. Honey felt a tear slip down her face, she hadn't even realized she was crying. She wiped it away hastily, refusing to be the rejected girl that cried at a school dance. She might be a loser, but she wouldn't become a cliche. She found herself picking at the skin around her nails, biting her bottom lip, trying to distract herself from the oncoming round of tears pushing through her eyes.

Back on the dance floor, Jake let out a breath as Katie ran off to dance with some of her girlfriends. The girl was sweet, but he could hardly keep his mind focused on anything but the girl sitting at the table he'd left twenty minutes ago. He'd thought about just dropping Katie off and turning around to take Honey home, but his grandparents would've never let him hear the end of that. Instead he watched from the dance floor as Honey became more and more drawn in on herself. He clocked her fidgeting first-the once pristine white polish on her nails now chipped, her bottom lip red and peeling. Her shoulders were slumped and she hadn't smiled once since they'd arrived. He knew she was trying to let Hayden's rejection roll off her shoulders, he knew she would've already expected it, but when it actually happened, it left her devastated. Not that she cared much about Hayden, but her years worth of abandonment had flared. She was reeling in her own mind, and in a room like this, there were no distractions, no book to escape to, so she simply sat and drowned.

Jake plopped down in the chair next to her, his feet aching in his new dress shoes. The air was thick, and even knowing Honey so well, he wasn't sure how to comfort her. He simply went on instinct. His voice had a rough edge as he shouted over the music.

"You wanna dance?"

They'd danced before, a thousand different times. They'd dance to old country songs as kids, in the barn on the Seresin farm. They'd danced to the radio in his grandparents' kitchen, just friendly dances. It wouldn't be any different, right?

"No."

Jake's head whipped to her. She was never short with him, always layering her rejection softly. Jake didn't think too much about it, she was already feeling vulnerable.

"You sure, Hon? You love this song."

He wasn't wrong-she did love this song. It was a country ballad at least a decade old, but she'd loved it anyway.

"I'm fine, Jake. You should dance with Katie."

"Don't want to dance with her, want to dance with you."

Honey bit her lip to keep it from wobbling, shaking her head.

"You don't have to feel sorry for me. I already knew he wouldn't show, I expected it. It's not your fault, you have nothin' to make up for, okay? I'm not going to be the girl you give a slow dance to because she’s a loser who thought someone like Hayden Wright would actually want to go with her. I don’t need that kind of pity, Jake, especially not from you.” Her tone was fiery, but she hadn’t intended to come across as angry towards Jake, he hadn’t done anything, she was just growing tired of being completely visible and simultaneously invisible to him. “I'm sorry-I just, I don't feel much for dancing at the moment."

She swallowed and took a deep breath.

"Then let's get out of here."

Her head now whipped around to Jake.

"No, no. I'll just wait until you and Katie leave, o-or I'll call your Grandma, I'm sure she wouldn't mind coming to get me so you can keep having fun.” She looks out into the crowd and spots Katie moving through the large crowd of the football boys and cheerleader girls. “You're having fun, Jake, with your friends, and just because I'm miserable doesn't mean you have to be."

"I shouldn't have dragged you here, Honey. I convinced you to come, and you're miserable. I should've realized this isn't your scene, and I'm just making it worse. You shouldn't have to sit here and be miserable and watch as everyone else has a good time. That's like some sick form of torture."

Honey wanted to scream, to grab him by the shoulders and make him realize that she lived it every single day, she was always watching from the sidelines as everyone else lived. It wasn't any different now that she was in an uncomfortable dress in a cold metal chair.

Honey musters a smile and turns to face the boy who held her heart in his hands. Jake couldn’t pull his eyes away as the white satin dress adorned her freckled skin, falling perfectly on her curves. "Jake, look, Katie is out there and she's beautiful and she adores you, and she's been nothing but kind to me, even for being her date's weird third wheel. My night is already miserable, hers doesn't have to be. She deserves to have the night she dreamed of. I sort of already imagined my night to look this way, so, not that big of a disappointment, really."

She swallowed thickly, her vision blurring with the tears she couldn't keep pushing down. Jake blinked, crouching across to rest his elbows on his knees to turn himself closer to her. He caught her eyes, but she couldn’t meet his, afraid of the sympathy she’d find in them.

"Honey, how clueless do you think I am? You say that, that you already knew you’d be disappointed, but I watched you. I sat on the tub while you got ready, and I've seen that look before, the same look you get when somethin’ unexpected happens in your book, or a stupid meet-cute moment on a movie. You’re not some mutant, you may not care about the stupid social part of a school dance, but you were excited, Hon. I’m sorry he put out your fire, believe me I want nothin’ more than to take him behind the barn.” Honey now braves a glance at him, and finds herself staring at a pair of warm green eyes. No sympathy, no pity, just Jake. “You say you're fine with disappointment, but you're not Wonder Woman, darlin'. You're human, and no one can take that amount of sadness without breaking. You suffer in silence because you think no one cares about your happiness, but, Honey, I care. You deserve your own happy night. So please for the love of God, let me get you out of here, we'll do whatever you want. I can't sit and watch you suffer."

Honey shook her head.

"As wonderful as that sounds, Jake, I won't do that to another girl. It's not fair to Katie for you to just leave her here. It's already-"

"I don't think we'll have that to worry about." Jake points to the general direction of a crowd of people, where Katie is laughing as she hangs off the arm of another member of the football team. "I don't think Katie's 'obsessed' with me, I think it's more of anyone who wears the jersey."

Honey shook her head silently, looking up at Jake. His arm was stuck out for her to take, and she gave him a small but genuine smile. Her head rested on his bicep as they walked through the parking lot. As he opened her door and let her in, she almost let herself imagine that she was the girl he’d asked, that he’d decided the dance was lame, and they’d have more fun doing something else. She shut down those thoughts, knowing they’d only disappoint her later when he showed up with another pretty girl at his side. She let the thought float away as the high school faded in the rearview mirror, Jake’s country music filling the cab of the truck.

“What’d you wanna do, Hon? It’s kind of late, everything’s probably closed, but we could swing into Greenville, catch a fast food place.”

Honey shivered, Greenville was nearly twenty minutes out, and she was already itching to get out of this dress and into bed.

“Uh, don’t think I’m cuttin’ you short, J, I just, I really want to get out of this dress, and I want to shower. I-I think I just want to go to bed. I told you not to leave, your night is gonna be-“

Jake’s clouded mind filled with a particularly lewd thought as she spoke about getting out of her dress, one he shoved down quickly.

“My night’s gonna be just fine, because you’ll be in bed and not in that gym miserable.”

Honey simply smiled and continued to watch their small town pass by out her window. It wasn’t long until Jake parked in her driveway, her heart heavy. She stared at the dark house, the empty garage, and the feeling of emptiness she knew she’d find. She smiled half-heartedly as she turned to Jake. He smiled back as he cut the truck off and crawled out of his seat, opening her door and helping her out. He walked her up the steps and to her front door, they looked at each other in the darkness of night, illuminated only by the moonlight.

“Thanks, seriously, Jake, for everything. You’re the best friend I could ask for.”

Her heart cracked at the word ‘friend’, and so did his, not that either of them knew about each other’s feelings.

“No need to thank me, Honey. You can always crash my party.” He winked, looking up at the dark porch light. “Forget to leave the porch light on again?”

Honey shrugged, fetching her house keys from behind a plotted plant. She opened the door to turn the porch light on, and when she flicked the switch, nothing came on. Her eyebrows furrowed, trying the switch for the living room light, and nothing. She shakes her head, her shoulders slumping.

“That’s just rich,” she mumbles under her breath.

“What’s up? Light bulb blow?” Jake’s mind wandered aloud.

“No, uh,” Honey flushed red, feeling embarrassed. “My mother didn’t pay the light company, again. S-She forgets about this place sometimes. I’ll just call her tomorrow, it’s fine. I’ll see you Monday, Jake.”

Jake pauses, placing his palm on the front door she was trying to hastily shut. He takes in her slumped figure, his anger flaring at her neglectful mother.

“Hey, don’t shut me out. You say she forgot again? She’s done this before? Honey I’m not letting you sit down here in the dark, pack a bag, you can stay with us.”

As much as she wanted to protest, as much as her brain said she’d be an imposition at the Seresin’s, her heart was lonely and heavy, and she didn’t want to be alone tonight. She didn’t fight it, only grabbing the flashlight by the door and stomping up the stairs as Jake stood watch. She packed a duffel hastily, throwing in pajamas and casual clothes, and even a set for Monday at school. She never wanted to overstay her welcome, but she would stay as long as the Seresin’s would let her. She hated this house, she hated the empty rooms and she hated her mother. She stomped back down the stairs and locked the door back, sliding back into Jake’s truck and peeling down Seresin Farm Road.

Late that night, with wet hair and Jake’s Dallas Cowboys hoodie over her frame, she sat across from him atop his plaid comforter, snorting and heaving with laughter over Jake’s spot-on impressions of his football coach and teammates. He’s traded his formal wear for basketball shorts and an old rodeo t-shirt, appearing much more like the Jake she felt most comfortable with. For the first time that entire night, she’d felt light, filled with happiness. Hayden Wright never crossed her mind, nor the beautiful girls she held her standards to, not even her elusive mother who Honey felt hated her most. None of it mattered, because she was safe, comfortable, feeling perfectly content enough to curl under Jake’s sheets and fall asleep on his spare pillows. She slept soundly, not feeling Jake’s hands push hair out of her face, or his green eyes unable to look away from her sleeping frame until he too collapsed in sleep. Most importantly, she hadn’t heard Jake’s mumbles of how beautiful she’d looked tonight, things he’d only say when he knew she wasn’t listening. At least for now.

When Janet woke early the next morning, she relaxed seeing Jake’s truck parked in the drive. She stumbled up the stairs to find his bedroom door ajar, a pair of black high-top converse keeping it open. They were Honey’s-she wore them everywhere. Janet’s blue eyes peered into the room illuminated by morning sunshine.

Jake and Honey both slept soundly in Jake’s queen bed, facing one another, none of their limbs touching. To any other parent, this would lead to a sharp lashing and a loud wake-up, but Janet knew her grandson well. He held Honey in such high esteem he’d never try anything of a clandestine romance. Janet loved Honey, and, while never audibly saying it, she silently hoped her boy would open his eyes soon and see the diamond of a girl in front of him. She simply kicked Honey’s shoes out of the way, closing the door to leave them undisturbed.

When the pair woke, nothing had changed. Jake and Honey still sat at the breakfast table like any other weekend, Jake stealing bacon off of Honey’s plate, and Honey stealing strawberries off of his. There was no great fanfare of Honey all but moving into Jake’s room. Janet and Jacob Sr. had no objections when they found out the reasons why. They treated Honey as if she was another Seresin. The only thing that had changed is that Janet no longer had to pick her up for school. So when Honey and Jake walked into school together on Monday, no one seemed to bat an eye. When Hayden Wright walked into the courtyard Monday morning, however, it seemed every single eye was on him, or, more likely, the double black eyes he sported.

Jake had passed off his busted knuckles on some farm work, and Honey had believed him. When she noted that his closest football buddies, Brett and Willie, also had the same markings, she’d passed it off as a football tussle Jake hadn’t wanted to tell her about. Jake had smiled and kept the conversation topic away from Hayden at all costs, which struck Honey as weird, but she chalked it up to Jake’s protective nature. She only started to wonder when Willie turned to her in their shared third period and asked her about the book she’d been reading, or when Brett had caught her attention in the hallway.

“Honey!” The tall boy’s voice had boomed over the crowd of people in the hallway. “What’s up?!” He’d high-fived her as she simply responded with a quiet “nothing much” and headed towards her locker.

When the two boys joined her and Jake at lunch, she’d been nervous at first, as she always was around new people, but quickly fell into a more comfortable state as the weeks passed. Jake’s friends, his true friends it seemed, found her funny, doubling over in laughter at her witty retorts to Jake’s comments, and her jabs at particularly disliked teachers. She no longer cowered behind Jake as he spoke to his teammates, because Brett or Willie were always around, actively roping her into easy conversation. For the first time in her life, Honey had friends, well, besides Jake, but she'd always had Jake.

That Friday night, after the game, as Jake slung off his shoulder pads and tossed them into his designated cubby, Brett’s voice sounded over the bustle of the loud locker room.

“Yo, Jake, are you and Honey going to The Basket after this? I’m fucking starving, man, and she always lets me have her fries she doesn’t eat.”

Jake felt a weird sort of flutter erupt in his chest, knowing that he wasn’t the only person to see Honey’s personality, that she had made an impression on his closest friends too. It almost made him burn with jealousy, but then he’d realized that he quite literally slept next to Honey each night-platonically, of course.

“Uh, yeah, as long as she’s down,” came Jake’s reply as he slung his bag over his shoulder.

“Fuck yeah!” Willie’s voice came into the circle of conversation. “Tell your girl to come to the after party at Junior’s too! I just finished that book she let me borrow, and that party’s gonna be ass, so we’ll have plenty of time to talk about it.”

Jake’s blood ran cold, his girl? When had his friends decided that Honey was his girl? He didn’t correct the boy’s words, only nodding as he chuckled, thinking of Honey’s frame sitting on the bales of hay at Junior’s barn as Willie’s towering linebacker frame chatted animatedly about the copy of The Outsiders she’d lent him.

“Yeah, I’ll see if she wants to come. You might have to catch her later, though, she’s not really big on parties. She’s not one to be social or drink, so people give her shit about it.”

Brett’s scoff filled the air.

“She’s wearing your numbers, Seresin.” Brett referred to Jake’s old jersey Honey often wore to the game. “And me and Willie’ll be there, nobody’s gonna mess with ‘er.”

That night, Honey and Jake sat on one side of a sticky red booth at the local diner with Willie and Brett across from them, opting to spend their night over dinner instead of at a party the law would likely bust. Jake had hardly spoken to Honey at all since they’d arrived, she was deep in a conversation with Willie over greasers and poems about gold. It made Jake happy that she and his friends got along, but as Honey flashed Willie a smile she’d only given him, he felt his fists tighten at his side, the burning jealousy returning. As Brett chattered on and on, Jake tried to focus, but his eyes kept lingering on the other side of him, seeing Honey laugh or her eyes sparkle as she divulged in literary talk. His mood had turned sour, and she hadn’t even noticed. So when Willie and Brett parted for the night, and they’d made their way to Jake’s truck, she’d clocked his frown as he opened her door for her.

“You alright, J?” Her voice was sweet, laced with sympathy.

“M’fine, Hon,” came his reply as he shut the door, walking around to his side and sliding in before starting the truck. Silence filled the truck, and Honey found her happiness deflating. She must’ve done something to upset him, that must be why he was acting this way. She pulled her knees to her chest, feeling small. Jake caught the movement out of the corner of his eye.

“Nothing’s your fault. I swear.” His green eyes were more warm than before.

“Then why are you acting like this? I-I’m sorry if you thought I was ignoring you, I just got caught up in talking to Willie about the book that I didn’t think about it.”

“It’s not that, you haven’t done anything, I promise. Just, thinking about a lot up here.” His pointer finger tapped against his temple.

“You can always talk to me. You can tell me anything, Jake.”

He smiled at her and nodded, but he knew he couldn’t. He could tell her anything except that he was in love with her.

-

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@djs8891

[autumnmobile12]

Something I wish had been addressed in My Hero Academia...

Pros and Villains alike underestimating the sheer determination of a Quirkless person with a weapon.

You have Geten monologuing on how only people with a strong Quirk have a place in the world. My dude...I can think of a few people who can absolutely challenge that philosophy.

Crossover insight.

Castlevania: In a world with magic, monsters and spellcasters, Trevor Belmont had no magical abilities, but he didn't let that stop him. Oh, the whips were magic? Support item!

Besides, he didn't use their magic elements most of the time. He puts out someone's eye in Season One and he straight up strangles a guy in Season Four.

Arcane: Ekko. No magic. Just a gravity-defying board, a metal pipe, and a well-time strike. Granted, he wasn't up against a magic user in this scene, but she did have a gun and explosives.

Avatar: And then we have Ty Lee not even hesitating to annihilate an entire group of Earthbenders with nothing more than her chi blocking fists. ATLA had a whole cast of non-benders who were holding their own against the ones with 'powers.'

Sokka

Suki

Asami

Jet

Mai

Moral of the story: Do not mess with the 'Quirkless' people.

...

It really goes to show how heavily the world in My Hero began to rely on powers to the point that anyone born without a Quirk (or a Quirk that was useless) was someone to be pitied.

Honestly, when I first started watching the anime, I was with my sister and she'd already seen it. So by the time we got the part with the Slime Villain and all the Pros not knowing what to do, I just turned to her and asked, "So wait, since Deku has all the knowledge about these Pros, is he just gonna become a master strategist and coordinate an effective attack and save the day?"

And she just looked at me with this sad expression and said, "No, but that would have been really cool."

Even though I enjoy My Hero Academia, faults and all, I will admit that is a small disappointment I'm still not over. And that might be why the Villain Deku AU appeals to me so much personally. It would have been awesome to have a Pro-Hero or a villain who was 100% Quirkless and making it work the best they could.

I mean, imagine anyone of the My Hero cast humbled like that. "Got our asses whooped by a Quirkless fella."

Aizawa's Quirk is virtually useless on its own. That's why he also uses a scarf, a knife, and martial arts combat to fight. Even if he lost his Quirk, he still has a scarf, a knife, and martial arts combat. Not much changes except he now has to adapt his fighting style to finding a different kind of opening to strike.

Touya might've been fine if someone suggested he use a highly-flammable accelerant as support gear. It was only prolonged usage of his fire that seemed to be hurting him.

Deku losing One For All? He was a brain over brawn character-type to begin with, so I genuinely don't see this as a major issue. An issue because losing any abilities sucks, but he's got a legitimate workaround as the strategist.

And if Midnight was going to use a whip...

...why couldn't she have used it like a fucking boss? Alas, we were robbed.

[unsoundedcomic]

Whumptober 2024 - 16 - "Necrosis"

It could take up to six weeks before the people he ate were fully digested. So Murkoph wasn't too fussed when he rolled over one night and a bulge rose from his abdomen like a hernia, or a log of shit that had lost its way, or a toddler's mitt reaching for the sky. He pushed the lump experimentally. Firm. Bit squishy. It hurt. But with only a little pressure he was able to collapse it back into himself and soothe his cold grey belly smooth again.

He wasn't fussed. But he should find some light.

His nights were always a game of tag with the light. Days were easy; find a dark lake or sea to sink into, doze on the bottom until the sun fucked off. Once it did, and the sky rolled over to pitch and star pricks, light grew more dangerous in its furtiveness. During the day, light didn't hide. You could always see it. You always knew where it was.

At night, a bloke couldn't predict when light was going to set upon him. He could be dick deep in a warm torso and then whoops! A wright's burning palm! Or a traveller's burning torch! A globe of starfly lymph. A pocket flask full of lambence. And then you best beat feet towards the shadows because you were hungry and you were fast but you weren't no senet and ya couldn't last.

His insides lurched excruciatingly. On an abandoned beach ringed by fronds and trash he fell to his knees in the moonlight. A white crescent hung above him, a boardwalk rose behind him. At hand the breakers talked over each other like a dementia ward, throwing themselves off endless cliffs towards endless splattered demises, and always more. Always a rolling parade of waves making for that showy, gory end.

Murkoph jammed his favourite knife into his navel. The old surgical Y there burned a garish black up over his ribs. He traced it with the blade, grunting at that sore point where the three lines kissed. He worked his knife beneath the incision, methodically, found the old fissure down the centre of his ribcage, twisted. The cartilage popped open. Inky ichor bubbled and ran. The knife fell to the sand. He curled his fingertips into the aperture and opened his chassis up like a salt lizard.

If he leaned back just a hair, his putrefying prizes would not tumble free. It was a beautiufl cache inside. He had no internal organs of his own but plenty of others': two hearts, a whole mess of intestines, kidneys, livers, a bit of spongy something that might be part of a lung but it was all snaggled with pink tubing that made him think of… kedis kits playing in yarn. There was a penis somewhere. A tongue. Half a dozen eyeballs of lots of different colours. He caught them all up in his giant mitt, rolled them, hefted the pleasant weight. One by one he popped each between his lips and felt them plink back into the morass like skeet balls.

Where any of it had come from he had no memory, but that wasn't important. They were his now. He could see and feel the necrotic tar of his innards assimilating the organic material; digesting it, distributing it, maintaining his slinky body with it. A dark and efficient ecosystem breathed its bitter funk inside of him, and every few weeks he added to the compost.

It was warm as it roasted; as it rotted. It warmed him.

And the Confoundments kept at bay.

Combing through the slime, his questing fingers found nothing squirming or living or pushing though. Huh. With the flat of his hand he gave the fetid cauldron a stir, then slammed himself shut with a satisfying squelch-

Boot treads on the boardwalk.

Murkoph melted from the moonlight to the shadow strip beneath just as lantern light intruded rudely upon the pale blue sands. He crouched there, still as the spent fags and empty bottles. A man and a woman passed overhead. He smelled like rum and unwashed ass. She smelled like peach hair treatment and she'd had something mint, recently. Mint and spirits. He panted.

Her skirts were full and fluffy; a barrier to the yellow lantern carried by her companion. A kind moon eclipsing that unwanted light. As she passed directly overhead and bathed him in that brief blackness, Murkoph contemplated zipping through the boards, punching a hand between her legs, dragging her down into the trash with him, bones all breaking and neck all snapping along the way. The Confoundments thought yes, yes, there are some missing pieces in us, and what we have grows so grey and cold and soft.

The lantern stabbed through the slats. Murkoph felt it lash his face in long and glowing strips. Mint and spirits.

Then she and her companion were already moving along. Away.

Why was he here?

A wet snuffling against the back of his knee twirled him in place. He hissed, laughed, grabbed at his leg through his pants. There! Here! The lump! It squealed when he grabbed it and fought his fingers as he guided it down, down, down his pants leg and out the bottom.

A wee mouse.

"All a'burgle in me undercarriage," he whispered, petting its gory head, "Did ya find some requisition worth the expedition?" The little whiskers trembled with beaded blackness. The beads looked like fleas on wire; like flea circus trapeze artists. He'd seen a flea circus in Sharteshane when he was a boy. He had paid a copper sem for the privilege. It had been very cold and they'd needed that copper for lamp oil. His brother had called him a rube.

Murkoph opened his palm. The mouse scurried in a frenzy from out the boardwalk shadows and into the moonglow. An owl's sudden screech explained its prey's desperate hiding place and Murkoph frowned to watch his little passenger taken from the world in a burst of talon and feathers.

"Oh, she scored one!" called the man's voice, laughing.

"Don't be awful," answered the woman. "Maybe it got away."

"So you can find it in the pantry tomorrow and scream for ME to come and bash its little brains out instead?"

Her prim treads and his heavy boots turned, began tracing back the way they'd come. The yellow lantern light swelled again. It streamed through the boards. A black tongue dabbed at the brightening brightness, as though to taste its citrus burn, and a knife fell into each of the shadow walker's sticky hands.

How long would he still be able to smell the mint inside, after he'd swallowed.

[asherraccoon]

Hazbin gang during the summer: (My headcanons)

Summer in Hell is HOT

How does the Hazbin cast cope with Hell's summer heat?

Charlie: neglects her coat and tie for the summer, keeps her shirt sleeves rolled up and ties her hair up higher. If it's really hot, she'll wear shorts. She just wants to try and stay professional as the hotel's manager.

Vaggie: Her outfit wouldn't change that much besides getting rid of the thigh-highs and gloves. She'd also tie her hair up.

Angel: He has a lot of fur, it gets miserable in the summer. He'd forget about looking hot and wear whatever made the heat more bearable. He'd likely ditch his boots and wear socks around the hotel instead.

Husk: Like Angel, he's got lots of fur. He'd ditch his tie, maybe his hat, and switch his pants for shorts. He'd also sit in front of the floor fan for like an hour every now and then. He uses his tail feathers as a fan. Convince me otherwise. He'd use alcohol bottles as ice packs too.

Lucifer: Fuck royal attire. He's wearing a t-shirt and shorts and sitting in front of the fan with Husk for hours at a time.

Pentious: He's cold blooded, he wouldn't mind the heat. However, he doesn't want his eggs to get fried so he keeps them indoors.

Cherri: she'd switch her jeans out for ripped shorts or a skirt. She'd also tie up the rest of her hair. And ditch the glove(s) (I can't tell if one of her gloves is an actual glove or a tattoo-)

Niffty: I think she'd be fine, honestly.

Vox: He overheats easily. He'd stay inside most of the summer and the days he does go out he's doing whatever it takes to not overheat.

Valentino: Wings aren't used as a tacky robe anymore, they're used as fans.

Velvette: It may be hot, but at least she's staying fashionable while staying cool.

(edit: I forgot Alastor whoops)

Alastor: The most dawg is doing is taking off his coat and rolling up his sleeves his great depression ass is not exposing anything more than his arms (He is miserable in that heat)

[shaunamilfman]

Dating Shauna Shipman (Part 2)

pre-crash headcanons

Jackie not knowing that you guys are dating and getting insecure about her and Shauna. she tries to start a fight one day like "I'm Shauna's best friend and you're not gonna take my place :(". and your just like "oh no I'd never try to do that. Shauna loves you so much you'll always be her best friend". Jackie literally blushes.

making out with shauna in her car while yall are waiting for Jackie's dramatic ass to finish getting ready for school

cleaning her hands up in the bathroom at a party after she gets into another fight over dumb shit. you'd be a lot more upset if it wasn't so hot. 

making out with her in the bathroom and she pulls back and is like "are you bored?" and you're like "wym???" and she's like "you've just been squeezing my biceps for like ten minutes now". whoops. 

beefing with Jeff because he will not get his eyes off your girl. "he's so shifty shauna". shauna, who also hates Jeff like 😍😍😍

Shauna beating the shit out of some girl who made the mistake of slide tackling you of all people. She carries you off the field because you hurt your ankle and just rolls her eyes as Coach Martinez screams at her. till this day you still blush thinking about it

you and Jackie having to beg the principal to let Shauna stay on the team. 

getting her a trophy saying 'MVP' (most violent player) or something afterwards. she displays it proudly in her room

shauna getting grounded for a fight or something so you can't call her. writing her one of those like 1800s dramatic love letters as a joke and she hands it back to you with the grammar corrected. 

taking her side in an argument with Jackie but not understanding what the arguments even about. girl has issues lmao. 

"you're so right babe, you shouldn't have to wear the boob dress just because Jackie said so. you should wear that sleeveless shirt in protest :)" 

both of you reading the same book but not at the same skill level. “what do you mean it’s a metaphor for the american dream??”

being the first person she tells about getting into Brown. strategizing about the fastest route between your universities in her living room (coincidentally, that's how her mom finds out she applied to Brown in the first place.) 

you and shauna getting really drunk at a party and poor Laura Lee has to talk yall out of keying Jeff’s car. 

random HC but I feel like she'd be so good at ice skating for some reason? . like yall go there on a date one day and you're just desperately hanging onto her as she's zooming across the rink