#smoke screen at least have the guts to say you want to fuck that blonde man with your hole chest!!

[robertsbarbie]

also on my tumblr.com blog i can say whatever i want about sports because it doesn't matter! it doesn't matter!!!!! i am a 23 year old woman in fucking kansas who has zero sway or say in anything!!! at all!! in regards to sports!! i garuntee you crybaby joe is not losing sleep over me calling him a flop (as to you know being busy with his millions and said flop activities)

[kirschteinsj]

Pinky Promises

Nanami x fem! reader

Warnings: nothing too much! maybe language but overall just a bunch of fluff and lovey dovey stuff 

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: Domestic Nanami and reader, just thinking about how much they love each other. sappy and cute stuff.

A/N: Hi! ^_^ Second time posting, I’ve had this one shot saved for a bit now! finally posting it lolz. I've noticed a lot of people have written domestic Nanami pics or drawn art, very glad society as a whole has this perception of him. it truly heals the soul I think. anyway, I hope u like this and sorry if there’s any grammar errors I wasnt able to catch U_U im thinking of doing a hc post next.... unsure hm, we’ll see ^_^!!

“I’m hooooome.” He says loudly as he steps through the apartment door, setting his briefcase down and taking off his beige coat. Putting down the grand kitchen knife she was using to chop up spinach, she rushed to the door with a smile and engulfed the tall blonde into a tight hug, saying hello. She took a deep breath, inhaling the soft scent of his cologne, the smell of something sour and musty soon taking over. Her face scrunched up and she let out a giggle.

“Oh god, Nanami, you stink, what did you go against today?”

“Nothing too bad. Just a grade 3,” He sighed “A smelly grade 3.” He sounded disappointed, probably because he knew he stunk too. Though the smell was horrendous, she still remained in his arms and he still held on just as tight.

“Are you tired? I was thinking of making dinner with you tonight but if you’re too tired I can-”

“No no. I’m fine. Just let me wash up and I’ll help out.”

“You sure?” She asked looking up towards him, questioning once more to reassure. He looked down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

“I’m sure, dear.”

While he showers upstairs, she gets back to readying the ingredients so they could begin cooking their masterpiece as soon as possible. Tonight she had chosen chicken alfredo with a tossed salad; One could say it was her favourite, but saying that would imply that she would eat it when cooked and served by whomever. But to her, she would only eat it when it was him who had made it for her.

Y/n adored him. He adored her. To her, he was her light. She could simply not imagine life without him, not after he had come in and changed her in such a way. She never in a million years would have thought to be so in love with someone. To have known someone who cared enough to hear all about her day or listen to all her tangents, whether they made sense or not. Who listened to her talk forever about anything just so he could see the faint glow of passion in her eyes. Someone who remembered the small details in regards to the things she loved and the things she despised; Like how she hated the feeling of peanut butter on her fingers and how she absolutely admired the scent of fresh pages in a new book. Sometimes, she felt undeserving of him.

He admired her like no other. Never did he believe he’d be capable of opening up to anyone in such a way, at least not until she walked into his life. He could write a million lists, all full of everything he loved about her. The way she smiled cheekily at him after a witty remark, how she'd give every hug as if it was the last, the way she was oh so patient with him. It took him time to become vulnerable in the slightest, he just didn’t know how to do so without burdening her. She knew his job was hard, he’d told her. But rather than running away like he expected, she stayed with him right by his side. She refused to leave him over that. If anything, it made her want to stay more since she felt the need to be there for him. It felt like a punch to the gut but a good one. “So, is this love?” He had asked himself then. Nanami had someone who brought out the much more joyful side to him. At the end of the day, he knew he’d walk through the front door only to see her, arms wide open and with a big smile offering a cozy hug. She was his home. Sometimes, he felt undeserving of her.

Putting the final piece of broccoli into the container, she tidies any clutter and went back to their shared bedroom. Sinking into the bed and falling on it with a plush thump, she lets out a deep sigh mixed with some sort of a groan. She herself was exhausted from work too to say the least. She didn’t deal with curses or anything like that, but she did teach a class of 9 year olds which one could consider just as frustrating. Yawning, she checks her phone to read the time: 6:15 PM. Nanami hadn’t been in the shower for too long, a small nap wouldn’t hurt. Quickly, she settled for a little 30 minute nap. That way, she could get up soon enough to help him out in the kitchen and not abandon him to do everything on his own. She turns her phone off and slowly, her eyes shut.

…

Y/n slowly opens her eyes and notices a grey throw blanket placed on her, something that she doesn’t recall going to bed with earlier. “Must’ve been Nanami.” Grabbing her phone, she turns the screen on, wincing at the incredible blue light piercing into her skull. “Fuck.” she mumbles. Once her eyes adjust, she glances back at the screen for the time: 7:30.

“FUCK,” she says, voice croaking “I overslept.” With the speed of light, she leaves bed and runs down the hall to the bathroom to freshen up. She soon makes her way over to the kitchen silently, slightly ashamed and guilty. Y/n mumbles a whine with a frown, “He’s probably done making things now. I could have helped.”

The kitchen is filled with the delicate scents of sauces, cheese and herbs. She watches him from the door frame, admiring her boyfriend. He stood in front of the stove mixing at the sauce for the alfredo, which scent alone made her mouth water. Nanami seems to be in his own world, as he stands humming to himself softly, stirring the pot of sauce and adding in the broccoli and spinach, not seeming to notice y/n. With a final stir, he carefully sets the lid and turns to rinse his hands. Her gaze sits upon his figure, how his grey oversized shirt slightly clings to his shoulders and loosens as it goes down his body. Looking down, she noticed the bright red christmas pyjamas he had on, the ones with adorable little reindeers all over them. Grinning, she remembers how she had bought those for him. She purchased a matching set for the two of them and insisted on wearing them all day on Christmas last year. Nanami had responded to the idea with a stern “No” which left y/n in shambles. She didn’t expect him to agree, but hey, a girl can dream. However, on Christmas day, lo and behold, she had woken up to find Nanami sitting on the couch, watching the news with his reindeer PJs on. Immediately, she had attacked him with hugs and kisses and all Nanami did was sit there and accept them, secretly loving it the whole time.

A deep voice throws her out of her thoughts. “You know, it’s rude to stare, right?”

Y/n chuckles quietly and makes her way over, wrapping her arms around him from behind, snuggling into his back.

“I like to stare at you, you’re cute,” she breathes in his scent once again, “ah, you smell so much better now. Like the nami I know.”

“I am not cute. I am a grown man.”

“C’mon, you can’t possibly be saying that right now. Not while you’re wearing these pants.” She coos, gently patting his butt. He goes silent, refusing to rebuttal knowing that he’s lost. He leans against the counter, his front facing her. Though he didn’t say anything, y/n sees this as an open invite to his arms. The rope of his arms finds her waist this time, her arms in an embrace around his neck.

“Whatever, tell me, how was your day, hm?” He posed, changing the subject.

“Same old, yenno. The kids and I had a discussion today about drugs and safety. It was cute, hearing them rat out their neighbours for smoking cigs and talk about how yucky they thought alcohol is. It was… sweet. How was work for you, hon?”

“Shit.” He retorts, closing his eyes, “Work is shit.”

“Oh come ON, I’m sure it’s not always that bad, right? Say, how’s your friend doing, you know, the one who kinda looks like one of my makeup brushes! Isn’t he good company?”

“Yeah, if good company means having to deal with a nuisance to society on a daily basis then by all means, yes, Gojo is wonderful company.” He joked, loosening his grip on her and making his way over to the stove to check on his sauce. She follows, opening the first drawer and pulling out a silver spoon, “You’re so mean sometimes. I think he’s a great guy to be around! I met him once, such a flirt.”

He teases calmly, “If you love him so much, why don’t you get with him?”

Taking her spoon, she lowers it into the pot and brings it back up to her face, blowing on it carefully before she puts it to her lips to taste. “Hmm, I would. But I don’t think he’s as big as you. I’ll have to pass.” She smirked, putting the spoon into her mouth as he watched and sighed in disappointment.

He glares,“God, you’re something else.”

“I’m just kidding, babe.” Bringing her spoon down for another taste. He swats at her hand and she retreats it with a whine. “Don’t do that. You’ve tried it already, and will again when we get to eat.” He scolded tenderly, “Plus, you shouldn’t be given these privileges anyway. It’s not like you helped out or anything.” He smiled, teasing her.

“Nanamiiii, I’m sorry,” she whines, half laughing, “I promise, I was going to help! I just got a little bit sleepy and sort of lost track of time…” He turned over to her and lifted her face with a finger under her chin. Laughing, he delicately caresses her cheek, tapping it admirably with a curled finger. The blonde chuckles and looks her in the eyes, “I’m just joking with you, love. I know you’ve been tired lately, I can tell. Why haven’t you been resting?”

Her smile falls and she sighs. Y/n wrapped her arms around his waist and brought him into her, hiding her face into his chest. It was true, she was exhausted but she didn’t deem it to be anything so serious. Work was just heavy this past week from having to grade her students’ work in time for report cards. All she wanted was the best for her kids and was finding ways to get the kids out of their comfort zones enough to do well in class. That reminded her, Nanami also mentioned having a student of his own.

She takes her face out of his chest and glances upwards. “It’s just this week of work, I promise I’ll be back to normal soon. I’ve just been busy with lesson plans and activities, yenno. Anyway, speaking of students, how’s the one you’ve been assigned to?” She posed in a soft tone. Half smiling, he turned around to add the strained pasta to the sauce, scattering it into the pot.

“He’s special. Quite lively. And cheerful. He reminds me of you sometimes,” his voice strains as he stretches to grab the bowl of cooked chicken to finally add into the pot, finishing the meal, “He’s got potential.” Y/n beamed with happiness. Nanami really seemed to like this kid and if he thought you had potential, then it sure as hell meant you had it.

She lets out a squeal, “EEEEEEK!!! That sounds amazing! I’m so happy for you!” Nanami suppressed a laugh and rolled his eyes, “It’s not that-”

“This calls for a drink, don’t you think?” She babbled with excitement, “We should have some wine! Right?”

Grabbing her wrist as she skipped her way over to the bottle, he reminded her, “You have school tomorrow. You always end up having more than needed and struggle to wake up in the morning.” Y/n frowned at his words, to which he noticed and tried to fix, “Tomorrow’s Friday, you can drink plenty tomorrow, hm? I’ll drink with you.”

“Ugh, fine. You’re right. But you have to promise.”

“I promise you ca-”

“No! You have to pinky-promise.” She demanded, pouting as he stuck out her pinky finger.

His heart skips a beat. Was she always this cute? Her angelic eyes stare into his tired ones. Bottom lip poking out, awaiting Nanami’s pinky to interlock with her own. He knew she took pinky-promises very seriously despite her grown age. It was among one of the many petty details that he cherished. Something about this pinky-promise was enough for her to ensure trust onto someone, it made him laugh. Her naivety is what made her so kind hearted, what allowed her to see the best in people. He felt that this naivety is why they’re together to begin with. He didn’t ever think she’d give him a chance. He reminisced of their first few encounters. The way she did her hair back then, the way she dressed, her shy smile and how she’d look at the floor whenever she’d blush. Maybe it was her timid nature that made him fall head over heels for her. Or maybe it was her generosity. Perhaps her beauty. He was unable to simply confine the reasoning for his infatuation with just a few traits. She grew overtime, more comfortable and less shy, she was more confident around him but he knew he could still make her blush so badly that she’d have to hide her face from him. He enjoyed their banter, her company. He felt it was luck. Or maybe it was fate. Who knows. He didn’t want to think so much about it. He wanted to live in the moment, adore her in this present time. In that instance, he felt the strong urge to kiss her. And so he did.

The kiss was short and sweet, yet full of an unfathomable amount of love. It took her aback, she didn’t quite see it coming. She too stood in the present moment, then and there, cherishing the man she loved.

His lips leave hers and he extends the smallest finger on his hand, declaring, “I pinky-promise.” And a ginormous grin washes over her face. In a whisper, she squeals and scoops her arms around his torso, resting her head onto his chest. They stay like this for a while, not too long really, but to them it felt like an eternity being in each other’s affectionate embrace. He goes to speak and she feels the vibrating boom of his voice make his way up from his chest.

“I love you.”

She sighs, “I love you too.”

Turning her head, y/n smoothly gets on her tip toes and clasps her arms around his neck, giving it a tender kiss and attempting to make a trail leading up to his sharp jaw. Catching onto her tactics he laughs, putting his big hand against her face and pushing her back.

“Seriously?” He chuckles, “You couldn’t wait till after dinner? Come on, take out the plates.”

“Wait for what? I was just kissing you! You’re so dramatic, Nami.” She lies, playing innocent. She knew damn well what she was trying to do. She wasn’t going to admit to it though. Taking out the plates and utensils, she readied the table.

…

After dinner and meaningless conversation, the two lovers tidied and headed towards their room. “Do yo wana wah a mohee tomowwow nie?” Y/n proposed from the bathroom as she brushed her teeth. He perks his head up, confused, “Do I want to what?” She spat into the sink and rinsed her mouth, repeating her question.

“I said, do you wanna watch a movie tomorrow night? Like at home? There’s this documentary I saw on Netflix, it looks really good! It’s crime related.”

“That sounds fine with me. Though, that’s only possible if you don’t end up drinking too much. I always have to get you to sleep early when you drink.” He states nonchalantly, nose poked into a thick book. She rolls her eyes and smiles, “I promise I won’t drink all that much.” Shifting his book to the opposing hand, Nanami silently takes his pinky finger and holds it out to y/n. She snickers and reciprocates.

“You’ve now pinky-promised. Don’t break it, y/n.”

“I never do.”

The nightstand lamp illuminates the room with a soft yellow glow. Shadows of objects on the nightstand hang on the walls. Laying in bed on her phone, y/n turns over to Nanami, who was still reading his book. “Nami, come lay next to me, I wanna cuddle. Please?” Her voice faint. He looks down at her and puts his book away immediately. He could use a cuddle too. Bringing himself down, he lays on his back, y/n closing the gap between the two. Their legs intertwine, her arm and head resting on his chest while one of his hands rested on her bum, the other dotingly playing with her hair. Neither of them spoke a word for a while. Until y/n broke the silence.

“So, were there no other pairs of pants you had left to wear or-”

“Please, be quiet.”

[autumnsart22]

Suna x reader: Final part (smut)

Here’s the final part to my Suna series! I wasn’t satisfied with my fluff version of the ending (which you can read here if you’re interested) so I decided to write a more smutty version. 

Warning: degradation, angry sex, light choking, mostly just a lot of degrading lol

I genuinely think this is the hottest fanart I’ve ever seen of him I can barely look at it without ✨butterflies✨. 

Art creds go to @minghuaa_art on twitter!

Despite Kita seeing you that day in the car, Suna still asked to keep whatever was between you a secret. That was fine with you--you didn’t particularly want a boyfriend, especially with the second semester of college work picking up. You still got to see him pretty often, hooking up in his car or your dorm at least three nights a week or more. Never the frat house; apparently his roommates were annoying. 

It was nice. Easy. Far easier than you ever expected friends with benefits to be. And beyond the sex, you loved talking to Suna; laying together on your tiny bed, legs tangled, while he explained the new music he was listening to, or walking together to the cafeteria as he made you laugh so hard that water came out of your nose. 

The good parts were enough to overlook the bad parts. At first. 

Suna was an abnormally horrific texter, barely ever responding within the day, if at all. If you ever wanted to get in contact with him, you’d have to call directly. And honestly even then he didn’t have the best track record. 

What was more frustrating was that it was always on his time. He would text you asking to hang out that night, and you would say yes, and then he wouldn’t respond until the following afternoon with some vague excuse about being busy. The first few times it happened, you got so mad that you didn’t respond to his calls, until he showed up at your dorm with panda express and forced you to watch Tokyo Ghoul with him. 

He had apologized...but it didn’t stop happening. It made you feel like you were some sort of side whore, who he called when he was bored and had nothing better to do. Like you were second best to everything else he had going on in his life. 

You had promised yourself from the beginning that you wouldn’t allow yourself to get close enough to get hurt, but it was hard. You really, really liked him. 

You liked the way he would stare at you while you talked, actually listening and curious as to what you had to say. You liked the way he hugged you after a few days of not seeing each other, burying his face in your hair like he couldn’t get close enough to you. You liked the way he laughed, both the usual, quiet chuckles and the rare snorting wheezes. You liked the way his mouth looked when he smoked, the way he moaned your name when he came, the way he could make you laugh at anything at any time. 

You didn’t want to get the “I told you so” talk from Kiyoko, so you avoided the topic all together: with her, and yourself. 

After one month of hanging out with Suna, you were planning on meeting up and going to see a movie. Both of you were more homebodies, preferring to stay in rather than party, but you had decided that you wanted to try and expand your horizons once again. The movies seemed like a happy compromise. 

The film was something Suna had been talking about for a while, an action thriller that honestly looked like shit but got good audience reviews because of all the flashy fight scenes. He had been so excited when it came out that you hadn’t been able to say no to going, especially not after he pried you with food. 

He was coming to get you at 6 pm, and your last class ended at 3pm, which gave you plenty of time to get ready. You stared at the face of your teacher on the screen within your zoom class, zoning out as he explained the flood system around the school. You glanced over as your phone buzzed, a message from Suna popping up on the screen. 

Suna

Wha u doying rit now?

You

What?

Suna

Sorr little drynk 

You

You’re drunk? 

Suna

im at psrty

You

Are we still seeing a movie tonight?

There was no response, and you felt your stomach drop. You didn’t even notice as your teacher ended class and logged you off the meeting. Suna was at a party at 3 in the afternoon, drunk, and didn’t seem to remember you had plans. You swallowed, shoving your phone aside as you ground your teeth. Why was he so frustrating? 

You stood up, angry at yourself for caring, furious at Suna for making you feel this way, for being such a piece of shit. You knew what party he was probably at--Kiyoko had said she was going at some point--and suddenly you were moving before you could think about it. 

You dressed nice, but casual enough that it wasn’t out of place at a frat party. Sexy enough to make him want you though, of course. 

You didn’t give yourself time for nerves as you strode from your dorm and headed in the direction of the frat house, following a steady stream of people already going in that direction. You knew it was Friday, but how the fuck were so many people already getting ready to party when it was literally 3:30????

It wasn’t overly crowded in the house when you entered, but enough where it was confusing as you wandered through the crowd. You snatched two drinks from the counter, downing them as fast as possible as you searched for Suna in the crowd. You’d need to be at least tipsy before having this confrontation. 

You found him in the living room, sprawled out on the couch next to who you recognized to be Akaashi, Kuroo, Kita, and Iwaizumi--all who you knew through Kiyoko. There were a few others you didn’t know, and they were all clearly drunk out of their minds. 

As you entered the room, Suna met your eyes for a brief moment, but then they moved on without a reaction. He didn’t care at all that you had come to find him, or that he had never responded to your text. 

The drink in your hand trembled, and you walked out of the room without looking back. 

Instead of talking to Suna, you decided to get wasted. An hour after first coming to the party, you were deep in a game of beer pong and you had a pleasant warmth in your gut, the world a little hazy. You felt braver, more angry, and suddenly all you wanted to do was track down that yellow eyed idiot and slap him. 

“Where’s Suna?” You slurred, turning to look at your partner at beer pong. You knew him vaguely as one of the frat boys, Suna’s friend Atsumu. 

Atsumu grinned, raising his eyebrows as he stared down at you. “Suna? Why?” 

You weren’t drunk enough to tell him of your “friendship” with Suna, so you just shrugged. 

“He’s over there,” Atsumu pointed towards the kitchen, and you felt all the blood drain from your face as you followed his gaze. Sitting in a chair, his back to you, was Suna...and on his lap was a beautiful blonde girl with her hands in his hair as she kissed him fiercely. 

You must have made some sort of sound, because Atsuma looked back at you. “You good?” 

You forced yourself to nod. “I’m...going to go get some fresh air.” 

“I’ll come,” he said, and you decided not to argue. 

Seeing Suna had sobered you up considerably, but your emotions were still a complete mess. All you could feel was a deep, unending hurt. 

As you headed down the hall, Atsumu grabbed your wrist and spun you around to face him. “So...you and Suna huh?” He said, a strange smile on his face. 

“What are you--?” 

“It’s fine, you don’t have to keep it a secret.” He took a step towards you, and you raised your eyebrows. 

“We aren’t together.” 

“Really? Then you wouldn’t mind,” He gently took your chin, lifting your face. “If I did this?” 

“I--” 

“What the fuck.” 

All the breath wooshed out of you at the familiar voice, which was now laced with anger. Suna stood a few feet away, his hands in his pockets as he watched you and Atsumu. He was smiling, but it was icy with rage and...jealousy?

“Suna,” Atsumu grinned, releasing your face but not stepping back. “What do you want?” 

Suna jerked his chin in your direction. “How about you get away from her, and then we’ll talk?”

“Dude,” Atsumu rolled his eyes. “She just told me she was single. I don’t get what the problem is.” 

Suna’s face tightened. “If you don’t get the fuck out of here in the next three seconds, I swear I will break your--”

“Chill, ok!” Atsumu stepped back from you, given you a frustrated look before heading away down the hall. 

When he was out of sight, Suna’s head slowly turned to face you, his eyes dark. “Single?” His voice was a low snarl. 

You swallowed, feeling your anger return full force. How dare he. “Yes!” You snapped, “Since you clearly don’t view this as any sort of relationship.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“So you can go off kissing other girls, but I can’t flirt with Atsumu?” 

“Looked like a bit more than flirting,” he said, teeth bared, before the other part of what you said caught up to him. “And how drunk are you? I wasn’t kissing shit!” 

“Are you seriously lying to my face right now? I saw you!” 

“I didn’t kiss anyone! Do you really think that little of me?”

You clenched your fists. “Atsumu said--” 

Suna was in your face in a second, towering over you as he backed you against the wall. “What did he say?” He growled. 

You clenched your jaw, glaring at him in silence. 

Suna gave a dark chuckle. “So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” 

You barely had time to react before he gripped your chin, kissing you roughly and shoving his tongue in your mouth. You moaned, and the sound snapped whatever restraints Suna had. His hands ran down the back of your thighs, lifting you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you through the nearest door into a random bedroom. He kissed down your neck as he kicked the door shut, and you gasped as he tossed you on the bed. 

Your eyes slid down his chest and across his toned stomach as he pulled his shirt over his head, completely at a loss for what to do. You could feel the heat pulsing between your legs, making your heart race and your body tremble. But this was wrong. Right? 

You didn’t have anymore time to think about it as Suna gripped your ankles, dragging you to the end of the bed. 

“Why do you still have clothes on?” He snarled, yanking your leggings off and leaving them in a tangled mess on the floor. His eyes darkened as they swept over the pair of lacy underwear you had worn, sliding towards your center where you kept your thighs clenched tightly together. 

He didn’t say a word as he forced your legs apart, dropping to his knees at the end of the bed, yanking down your underwear, and positioning one of your legs over his shoulder. You shuddered as his hot breath caressed you, and he ran lazy circles along the inside of your thighs with his long fingers. 

“Fuck…” He murmured under his breath before looking up at you. “Do you want me to--”

“Stop teasing me Suna,” you groaned, shifting your hips, and he laughed darkly. 

“Fine.”

You practically screamed at the first sweep of his tongue, managing to turn your face into a pillow to muffle your noises as he worked around your clit and used his fingers in your core. You bucked your hips up into his face, and his laughter vibrating through your body almost had you coming within the first minute. 

You let out a low cry of protest as he pulled away, raising his head to glare at you. His mouth was covered in your juices, his hair rumpled and eyes glassy. He leaned over you, yanking away the pillow you had been using to cover your mouth and throwing it across the room. 

“What are you--”

“I want to hear you begging for it,” he snapped, and you managed to roll your eyes before he shoved his fingers back into you. 

“You’re so--ah!” You shuddered. 

Over the course of a month of fucking each other, Suna had figured out exactly how to make you fall apart under his tongue and fingers, so it didn’t take long for him to work you into an early climax. Your legs shook, and you let out a series of moans as you came all over his mouth. 

He got to his feet after making sure he had licked you completely clean, gazing down at you with possessive smugness. 

“Why do you look so fucked out already? We’ve barely gotten started.” 

You didn’t even argue as you got onto your knees on the bed, hands sliding into his hair as you kissed him angrily, unsaid words erupting. He allowed you to shove him onto the bed, and you focused on unzipping his pants and throwing them aside, ditching your shirt and bra along with it. His boxers went next, and then you had his dick in your hands, stroking it while Suna groaned. 

“Here,” he panted, tossing you a condom, and you slid it over his cock just like he taught you. You positioned yourself over him, impatient, your knees on either side of his hips as you thrust yourself down on him in one go. You both moaned at the feeling of finally having him inside you. 

“F-fuck,” you gasped, slowly rolling your hips as you rested your hands lightly on Suna’s chest. You went slow, taking the time to feel how deep he reached inside you, the movement on your clit enough to send tingles up the rest of your body. 

Suna watched you ride him lazily, his yellow eyes half closed as he took in the way your naked body shifted to move on top of him. 

“Ha, you’re doing so good...god--you’re so fucking sexy,” he groaned, and you glared down at him. 

“You make me so...mad…” You managed between pants of pleasure, and Suna raised his eyebrows. 

“You can still talk? I guess I’m not doing enough…” 

Before you could protest, he flipped you over so that you were lying on your back with him hovering over you, his dark hair falling around his face as he gripped your throat lightly. 

“You’re such a little cumslut aren’t you?” He murmured in your ear, and you arched slightly. “Don’t you ever try and fuck someone else again, got it? You’re only allowed to come around my cock.”

You moaned in agreement, and Suna rolled you over onto your stomach, dragging your hips up so your ass was high in the air. He gave you no warning as he thrust back in, practically fucking you into the mattress. 

Your eyes rolled back in your head as he used his fingers to reach around and rub your clit, his other hand running along your breast. You could  barely think through the pleasure, and the only coherent word you were managing to say was his name.

Suna leaned over you, yanking your head back to murmur in your ear. “You’re mine, got it?” His words were rough, and you clenched hard around his cock. You could feel your second orgasm approaching, and he could tell too by the way you shuddered around him. He paused in his motion, and you wiggled your hips in protest, trying to get him going again. 

“Why’d you stop?” You snapped, glancing over your shoulder when he didn’t continue. 

Suna grinned. “Beg for it, bitch.”

He moved slightly, letting you feel the friction, and you gasped in anger and pleasure. This bastard wanted to tease you, make you submit to him…

Despite knowing this, you broke almost immediately. “Please, Suna, please please, I need you so bad--”

Immediately, he picked up his pace once again, adding more pressure to your clit, and you jerked. “That’s a good girl.” 

“Ah, ah, Suna, fuck, I love-- you, ahhh…” You cried, feeling moisture spill down your thighs as your stomach erupted for the second time that night. 

For a moment he stilled, and you bit your lip in tired confusion. Did he want you to beg again? You weren’t sure you had another round in you. 

You looked over to see him with a shocked expression on his face, but it quickly melted into smugness again once he caught you staring at him. “Of course you love me while I’m fucking you like this,” he growled finally. “It’s because you’re such a slut for it, right?” 

Your mouth dropped open, but you didn’t have time to say anything as he started moving once again, making you yelp at the overstimulation. Had you said you loved him? Out loud? Oh my god…

“Have I fucked you stupid already?” he purred in your ear, pulling out of your dripping cunt before slamming back in and picking up his pace. You moaned loudly, thrusting your hips back to meet his as all thoughts flew from your head. 

“S-Suna I--” You could barely speak, it felt so good, despite the fact that you had already come. Twice. 

 He began to pant in your ear, groaning as his grip on your hips tightened.“F-fuck--” He grunted, arms sliding around your waist as he jerked and came. 

You both collapsed on the bed, sweaty and exhausted, and Suna easily pulled the condom from his dick before tying it and tossing it in the trash. After a long moment, you rolled to your feet to padded over to where your clothes lay--until you realized that your leggings had a massive rip in them. 

“Suna!” You cried, holding up the fabric. He raised his eyebrows, and had the decency to at least look vaguely guilty. 

“Sorry.” 

“What do I wear?!” 

“Here.” He threw the shirt he had been wearing earlier at you, and you gave him a glare.

He had already wiped himself down with the tissues on the counter, and had pulled on his sweatpants once again, leaving him shirtless. His eyes swept lazily down your still naked body, his tongue coming out to wet his lips, and you crossed your arms in annoyance. 

“Suna,” You snapped, but finally pulled his shirt over your head, not seeing another option. “I’m going to go get cleaned up,” you said, before heading out the door without waiting for a response. 

The bathroom was thankfully right down the hall, and thankfully empty. You didn’t feel very guilty about fucking Suna when you should have been communicating in a healthy way, but you definitely still felt mad. 

After you had wiped all the fluids from your inner thighs and core, you headed back to the room to grab the rest of your stuff. 

You found Suna on his phone lying on the bed, but he looked up as you came in. 

“Where are you going?” He said as you gathered your stuff, and you huffed. 

“Back to my dorm.” 

“Wait,” he lunged out of the bed and grabbed your arm. “Don’t go.” 

“Now you want to spend time with me?” 

“Just...stay. Please.” 

You swallowed, taking a deep breath. “Fine.” 

His expression relaxed into a happy smile, and he dragged you onto the bed with him before flicking out the lights. You weren’t sure what time it was exactly, but you were sure it was far past two in the morning. Your eyelids drooped as Suna wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. 

You were right on the edge of sleep when he murmured, “Did you mean it?” 

Immediately you were awake; you knew exactly what he meant. “U-um--” You hadn’t worked out any of the problems between you two, and you were sure he didn’t feel the same way. How were you supposed to admit to loving him like this?

“It’s fine,” he finally muttered. “We can talk about it tomorrow.” 

You swallowed. “Yes. I did mean it.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but you felt Suna tense around you. 

“Really?”

You closed your eyes, forcing yourself to say it. “Yes... I love you.” 

You felt his sigh against your air, ticking the little hair on the back of your neck. His hand slid across your stomach while the other gently began to stroke your hair, and the movement had you relaxing despite the tears that had built up at his lack of response. 

You closed your eyes and set it aside; you would deal with it tomorrow. Now, it was time for sleep. 

“I love you too.” You heard, so soft that it was almost just a breath of air.  

It was probably just a dream.  

[earthlostgirl]

here I am again, writing fics. Inspiration comes and goes as it pleases

Date

Faye wrapped herself in the blanket and settled into the sofa with the book in her hands, a steaming tea on the table and a packet of chocolate cookies. She smiled indulgently at the quiet afternoon ahead and focused on reading.

She didn't need lifting her head from the book to know that Spike had just entered the room, walked over to her and leaned against the back of the couch. He grinned from ear to ear and looked at her cheekily with those wonderful dark eyes, and she managed not to lose her composure.

Even if he'd just come from working out and his skin was covered in sweat and all she felt like doing was licking him up and down. Spike raised his eyebrows smiling even wider, as if he had read her mind and she felt her cheeks catch fire.

“Today you and I are going out,” he said with all the confidence he has, picking up the cup and taking a sip of her tea.

“I beg your pardon?” Faye blinked in disbelief, watching as he reached out for a cookie.

“In an hour. Let's have some fun,” Spike set the cup down on the table and cracked his knuckles.

“What do you think, that I don't have plans?” She snapped, slapping Spike's hand as he lunged for another cookie.

“It's Saturday, and you're wrapped in a blanket with tea, no, you don't have plans,” he muttered, chewing exaggeratedly.

“And you think hanging out with you is more interesting than finding out what happens to Edmund Tully on his wedding day?” Faye asked pointing to the book.

“You know he never got around to publishing the last two?” Spike said smiling tapping the cover of the book with a finger. “One hour, Valentine, don't keep me waiting.”

And just as he had appeared he left, hands in his pockets and slightly arched over. Faye didn't plan to move from the spot. Spike was an arrogant and cheeky prick, if he thought that with his charming smile and a walk he was going to convince her he had lost his mind.

Faye went back to focus on her reading, trying to erase from her mind how good that guy always smelled.

After forty minutes she closed the book in outrage; there was enough death in her life already, to also have to suffer it in a novel. She hurled the book on the table and repressed a cry of frustration covering herself with the blanket.

...

An hour had already gone by, Spike was waiting in the hangar for Faye to show up, still not quite sure if she had forgiven him. But things between them had smoothed out and at least she was talking to him again. He was nervous and even though he'd used all the audacity he had to ask her out. Faye was capable of ignoring him completely, dropping him like a cigarette butt and deflating his ego without so much as batting an eyelash. Spike wasn't keeping track of the number of cigarettes he had smoked in the twenty minutes he had been waiting when heard heels approaching him, turned around trying to transform his stupid smile of happiness into a superb expression of triumph.

Faye zipped up a red leather jacket, which he had never seen before and looked at him with the hands on her hips. She was wearing black boots with a ridiculously high heel that made her endless legs look even longer.

“I'm merely doing this because the book is in a critical situation and I need to forget it,” Faye muttered looking at a remote point behind him.

“Whatever you tell Valentine,” Spike smiled, and she walked in front of him without answering.

Faye was wearing jeans so tight he was convinced that in some cultures were considered illegal. Spike had to restrain himself from pinning her against the wall of the Bebop and undressing her right there.

Spike had been asking favors and collecting debts to find the perfect place. In the end he'd gotten tickets to a place called Baghdad, which from what he had been told was the best place on Venus. It was virtually impossible to go there without a connection or waiting 6 months on a list.

They sat down in a booth, and Faye took off her jacket, revealing a black chiffon shirt so sheer he could guess even the most delicate lace line of her bra. He was incapable to hide a smirk at the thought that she had made herself so beautiful for him. Faye rolled her eyes, resting her cheek on the hand as she realized how he was looking at her.

“What would you like drinking?”

"Rum.”

They started an irrelevant chat about how hard it was to find good bounties since they cancelled the Big Shot. But the only thing he was able to concentrate on was the red of her lips, which was the same shade as her jacket and how the lights of the club reflected in her eyes as she looked at him.

So he kept talking not quite knowing what to say but delighted because she was watching him attentively with a smile on her lips.

Suddenly Faye cut her attention away from him, focusing on what was going on behind him. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she blinked in disbelief. Faye set her hands to her mouth to cover a smile that her eyes couldn't hide. He had lost her attention completely and turned around to picture what she was seeing.

On a small stage a naked couple was having sex in front of everyone. He was a huge guy, full of muscles, and she was an oxygenated blonde with fake breasts who moaned and screamed at every thrust.

Spike couldn't believe it, where the hell had he brought her? He looked around, half-naked dancers were scattered all over the room. Perfect, now Faye would think he was a pervert. That he had brought her there with some hidden agenda. All he wanted to do was take her dancing or have some fun.

“Where did you bring me Spiegel?” she asked with a laugh.

Spike didn't dare look her in the face. He was going to kill Stuart, was going to strangle him with his own guts and forsake him hanging in one of the gardens of Venus. In whose head could that place be perfect to surprise a girl?

Faye kept an eye on the couple as a third participant with more muscle than the first one joined them.

“That position must be tremendously uncomfortable for the poor girl,” she commented distractedly and placed her eyes on him, demanding an explanation.

What the hell was he going to say? That his friend told him that this was the most famous place on Venus? That everyone wanted to be here? That he hadn't asked anything else because he was an idiot? He move his hands to his forehead sniffling and leaned his elbows on the table trying to relax, his head was aching. Faye was going to tell him to fuck off. He didn't even want to look at her.

“We're leaving, aren't we?” she asked, and he couldn't tell if she was annoyed or if she was laughing at him.

Suddenly he felt stupid and furious. He got up from his chair without saying a word, gulped down what was left in his glass, grabbed his jacket and headed for the exit without waiting for her. Spike opened the door and heard the doorman say goodbye to Faye without missing the opportunity to flirt with her, and that made him even angrier.

...

They left that club, initially Faye wanted to make him believe she was angry, that it had bothered her that he had taken her to that place of vice and depravity. But just seeing how embarrassed he was, she was moved and decided not to joke with him. Spike was walking in front of her talking or rather yelling at someone on the phone.

Whitney had faked a fairy tale, introducing himself as the knight in shining armor who was there to save her. Big words, movie-worthy gestures and the whole love story. She had been so lost, so scared that she had believed him completely. She thought he was going to take care of her and love her, but he left her with a broken heart and an unpayable debt.

And now there she was, walking behind Spike Spiegel, who had few words and not many gestures.

Spike was a hopeless romantic. His whole history with Julia was proof of that, he wanted to leave everything for her. He risked his life for her, and without her, he found no sense in living. Julia had broken his heart, and yet he loved her to the point of no care to stay alive. Even if Spike denied it... if Julia were alive, he would have disappeared from her side without looking back. She was so sure of that it made her anxious, wanting to run away from him to avoid worse harm. Avoid thinking that Spike would rather be with Julia or that he thought of her when he closed his eyes and kissed her.

She was heartbroken, but Julia was dead, and she didn't want a ghost to take away the only good thing in her life. So she needed to believe that she was more than a replacement and that she meant something to him.

“Aren't you hungry?” Faye asked as he hung up his communicator and stopped in the middle of the street.

“No,” Spike replied grumpily, turning around to look at her. “But we can stop somewhere if you feel like it.”

She nodded not quite sure what to say, she didn't understand why Spike was so upset. Although she knew he was hurt in his pride, and she tried hard not laughing.

He walked beside her in silence, with his hands in his pockets and slowing his pace to match her pace.

“I know a place where serve wonderful pizza,” Spike finally said, stopping in front of her.

“Do they cook nakedly or dressed?” Faye asked laughing, trying to get him to smile again.

Spike winced in disgust and blushed up to his ears. She smiled, walked over and patted him on the back.

They enjoyed a leisurely dinner sitting at the pizzeria bar, not talking too much and watching video clips on an old TV screen.

“Shall we go home?” Spike asked, he was sulking, and it looked like his sole intention was to disappear and lock up somewhere to curse.

“No,”

Spike looked at her in surprise and remained silent crumpling the paper napkin in his hands.

“We'd better seek a quiet place to spend the night, do you want to?” Faye asked getting up and running a hand through his tangled hair.

Spike slipped an arm around her hip and pulled her to him, sighing he rested his head on her shoulder and mumbled something against her neck.

They arrived at a lovely hotel. The receptionist handed them the key, and they quietly made their way up to the third floor. The heater was on, and it was pleasantly warm inside the room.

She sat on the bed, so she could take off the heels that were killing her and Spike leaned against the small table in front of her, took off his jacket, placed it on the chair carefully and rolled up his shirt sleeves.

Looking sad and disappointed, he rested his hands on the table and looked at her as she massaged her aching feet. She got up from the bed and stood in front of him caressing his face carefully.

“You're in a bad mood, huh?” she asked in a whisper with her fingers in his hair.

“No,” Spike replied sharply.

He was incapable of allowing things go. When something didn't go his way, it affected his mood and the way he treated others. She caressed his cheek and gave him a small kiss. She ran her hands down his neck and gently began to unbutton his shirt.

Faye sighed as she saw the scar across his chest and carefully ran her hand over it. Spike crossed his arms behind her back pulling her close to him.

“Does it hurt?” she whispered.

“No,”

Faye could feel Spike's eyes on her, but she still didn't look up from his chest.

“I wasn't able to stitch you up,” Faye slid her hands down his back and wrapped her arms around him. “My hands were shaking so badly that Jet pushed me away, and he did.”

She heard him sigh deeply and felt how he closed his arms around her and kissed her hair. He whispered her name and cooed her in his arms tenderly.

“Will you tell me someday what happened with the syndicate?” she asked very softly, wondering if he could have heard her.

“No,” he replied using that sharp tone of voice that bothered her so much, she broke away from him and he sighed again. “You wouldn't like to know the kind of man I am.”

“I know the kind of man you are Spike,” she replied clutching his face with both hands and kissing his forehead. "The kind of guy who takes you to a club with live porn on the first date.”

He frowned and grumbled closing his legs to trap her between them, pulling her close to him again. He grabbed her firmly by the waist and looked at her with a serious gesture.

“It wasn't our first date anyway,” he whispered unbuttoning the button of her jeans and pulling down the zipper.

“Ah, wasn't it?” Faye asked curiously.

“We went out for dinner and drinks the night before we confronted Decker. The one who stole the trucks,” Spike slid the pants down her hips and she let them fall to the floor.

“We were working, we need dinner Spiegel, that wasn't a date,” she replied crossing her arms as he tangled with her hair.

“We ended up in bed,” he lowered the pitch of his voice a couple of octaves and a shiver ran down her back just from the way he was looking at her.

“It was never my intention. We were too drunk,” she stammered nervously, feeling small electric shocks where he placed his hands.

“It was mine. I used all my seduction tricks,” Spike gave her one of his charming smiles while he grabbed her arms and slid his hands up and down them.

“You're lucky I don't recall anything,” she caressed Spike's palms, trying to hold back the urge to jump on him and devour every inch of his skin.

“In fact it was my intention since I saw you behind that table in the casino, with your thin pink jacket,” he said, touching the buttons of her shirt one by one.

“Yes, huh?” Faye whispered in his ear while she caressed the back of his neck and felt his skin crawl. “What did you want to do to me?”

Spike chuckled, grabbed her ass with both hands and pressed her body against him, caressing her back gently.

“I wanted to bite you, lick you, touch you,” Spike grabbed her hair and looked down at her biting his lips. "I wanted to hear you scream my name.”

She took a breath and shivered as she felt Spike's fingers drawing small circles where her shirt ended.

“So what are you waiting for?” she whispered, almost brushing his lips, feeling the tightness of Spike's grip around her waist.

He gazed down at her with a smile laden with desire and without a second's thought, kissed her until they were breathless. Spike pulled away from her to catch his breath holding her face, still looking into her eyes, challenging her, asking for more, demanding more. Faye kissed him again as she finished removing his shirt and pinning him against the table. But Spike was stronger so without any effort on his part lifted her by the waist with one arm and carried her to the bed.

[prettywarriors]

Fate The Winx Commentary

Good morning internet! Today is the drop of Winx: Riverdale edition! I sure hope you're ready for my aggressive and unnecessary commentary, because it is coming for you either way!

The netflix landing page lets us know:

Fate The Winx Saga

6 episodes, 48-53 minutes each

"Genres: Fantasy TV Shows, Teen TV Shows, Italian TV Shows"

"This show is: Emotional"

As mentioned elsewhere, my Winx knowledge is limited, so I will be coming into this fairly fresh and will try to be unbiased. As I have seen trailers, the keyword here is Try.

Episode 1

'To the Waters and the Wild'

CW: Animal Death, Swears, Implied Child Death, Blood, Implied Teen Sex, Burns, Weed, Fatphobia, Whatever the term pussie falls under

Episode 1 TL;DR: We meet everyone, learn their dynamics, have the basics of the magic system beat into us, meet our monsters, and name drop Harry Potter. Standard first episode stuff.

I do want it on record before we start that I got about halfway into the first season of Riverdale, and the first season of Netflix Sabrina. They were, well, bland and boring imo? I did get through a few seasons of Teen Wolf, but that's because it was capable of Fun and Jokes. My current expectations are a few unintentionally funny lines, maybe some almost decent magic effects, and because it's 2021, one whole gay character (I did hear one of the boys (there are boys?) is bi, but also an asshole so I'm hoping for some wlw)

TV-MA LANGUAGE AND SMOKING OH FUCKING BOY Almost full moon (waxing) in opening shot- I Will be tracking moon inconsistencies if it keeps showing up that is a pet peeve but hey look a bunch of sheep That's a good start (it's ominous though. don't hurt the sheep) Swears count: Feckin' 2 Mystical portal barrier. Oh yeah s5 of the magicians is on netflix now WELP THOSE ARE SHEEP GUTS RIGHT OUT THE GATE HUH For CW it's up a tree, and the dripping blood is a good warning of what's about to be seen :( oh and then the man who was looking for the sheep dies offscreen save for a spray of blood. THIS ISN'T YOUR CHILD'S WINX CLUB it seems to say. I assume. How much blood was in the original winx because this is already at least a full cup. (Also the monster noises for whatever was chasing the man (werewolf it was a werewolf trailers are bad guys) were not very good)

Opening credit scene is 5-6 different blooming elemental wings. They're pretty, but it's unclear if the last one is secret 6th member wings (because the second to last ones are fire which is the main character's element right?) so maybe we'll get a late 6th addition? (I am in I.T. please give me the most relatable character you cowards)

KIDS IN THE CORNER BY AMBER VAN DAY PLAYING I like where they shot this but that might just be european woods pretty. The opening location was nice and mossy save for the sheep blood Fancy big stone school establishing shots (it's nice, and huge) and we land on a red head who seems less than pleased to be here Courtyard shot of... whatever the name of the replacment plant girl is, holding a tray of various potted plants for an older man (father? first day of school send off maybe?) Aisha(?) walks by, not talking to anyone, Stella(?) is taking Magical!Selfies with at least 3 other girls, Musa(?) has a suitcase and headphones and smiles at a passing girl Oh boy a boy with a pocketknife doing little tricks with it! Nothing says edgy like an actual knife edge. Gonna take this moment to point out I have some level of face blindness and while the girls all look fairly different from one another, if there is more than one tall blonde white boy as I fear there may be, I WILL NOT be able to tell them apart. Not through maliciousness, just general incompetence, so anything I say about the boy characters (I want to say they're the knights to the girl's faeries? is that right? this whole thing smacks of gender) should be taken with a heap of salt I've come to accept tv just. displaying text messages on screen as a storytelling method. It's never my favorite but it just Is a modern story element. Also Bloom needs to meet stella at the alfea gates Alfea I presume is the school- does the name mean something? It sure feels like the word elf and therefore fae but I don't feel like googling anything this early in Oh look two more blondish tall white boys. Pocketknife was wearing something else i think, one guy has a brown jacket and pink shirt (bad combo), the other looks old even by tv highschool/college standards and his jacket has a jock vibe. Jock jacket also has an earring? Is this the bi character who is an asshole? From this one second of him, only in profile, I will assume yes, he is an asshole I like Bloom's backpack Pink shirt looks at Bloom from across the quad. I am already tired of this romance Cool he walks up to someone he has identified as lost, and is 'impressed with [her] confidence in the face of complete ignorance' COMING OUT OF THE GATE WITH A NEGG HUH PINKY He even states he wasn't offering help Then Why Are You Talking To Her Jackass Subs are going with the fairy spelling, and Bloom confirms she is a fairy and we confirm this is College. Unless this is a european thing where they call schools different things. I think that's just for public and private? And maybe just england? I'm American all they teach us is 1492-ww1 over and over for like. 10 years sorry Rest of the World 'What Realm are you from?' 'California' Speaking of ameri-centric, I'm gonna Guess that original Winx, the italian cartoon, didn't have their main character be from cali usa? I am presuming this is a side effect of making this property for a more global distribution than I'm guessing winx was originally conceived as back in the early 00s The Otherworld. I assume this is the fairy realm and whatnot? And the magic school. Seems to be located behind a magical barrier in the earth realm?? If that's right it seems weird if basically everyone who goes to the school is from the otherworld Pinky doubles down on his rudeness but in a Fun and Cute way because :/ and the Specialist hall is Very Pretty, oh and there's a fairy hall. Are specialists the boy...things? magi knights? bros of the blade? guys who wear those 'here come a special boy' sneakers from that one comic? Stella sees this conversation which is great because they drop the term mansplain. why would otherworlders know that term even??? Edgey(?) sees Pinky and they hug it out Stella knows Americans are the type to wander off so I guess there's a lot of inter-world connections?

Miss Dowling- is this teacher going to be like the pedo in riverdale who got *checks notes* killed off by one of multiple serial killers later on? Dowling is the headmistress, gotta keep the otherworld a secret from earthers, time and place for portal making. all standard fantasy stuff so far, nothing to make this stand out Stella has a gateway ring, and frankly isn't too nice? all the backgrounders clothing is Bland and very normal 7 realms of the otherworld, Solaria is where Alfea is, i like magic globe Incase you forgot this was a modern tale, people update their insta stories here. 'I was kindof bummed I didn't see a single pair of wings' YOU AND ME BOTH BLOOM 'We had wings in the past, transformation was lost, tinkerbell was an air fairy' This is either a cop out for your glittery cowardice, or a set up for the main girls re-finding transformation magic later. I did like the Tink bit Bloom is a fire fairy and the subtext of this conversation is that bloom's magic did Something bad. I hope it was burn down her old school's gym a la buffy movie I like miss Dowling but in the I wouldn't Be Surprised if you turned out to be Evil way, and I guess Alfea is a very privileged upper crust school. What types of college do normal fairies go to then huh? damn privileged fairies 'our students have gone on to do amazing things like re-discover long lost magics' We Get It. You will give me Wings, but Only If I'm Patient Dowling throws a jab at Bloom about power control, but I like her necklace so It's Fine

Bloom video calls her parents while unpacking in the dorm, which may have come pre-fit with a heck ton of board games? Love it. Or new plant girl brought them along with her many plants Stella has a fancy mirror and lots of jewelry and fashion photos and makeup, Musa has a laptop and apparently not much else, gotta get those establishing personalities down I guess 'Ladies of the Flies honey don't be sexist' Bloom's dad for feminist of the year (these jokes are bad but i guess we can call it a dad joke as justification) Asiha gives Bloom a look and saves her from the call with her parents- yay friendship step one achieved Blooms parents think she's in the alps because magic secrets and what not Aisha asks bloom if she's never read harry potter and I guess Bloom is a potterhead (that's the term right?). Is this self awareness that all magical school fantasy series have the same basic bricks?  Bloom is a ravenclaw sometimes slytherin, Aisha is a Gryffindor Stella is changing because she's the fashion one and has a fun pastel rainbow skirt, and uses magic to make a real aggressive lamp. She's also a mentor (maybe older than the others by a bit?) I am assuming Stella here is something along the lines of a diplomats daughter the way she talks about appearances. She better get down and dirty later on to show her growth about how some things are more important than looks yada yada Fairy magic powered by strong emotions, i am waiting for bloom's backstory to be movie x-men rogue style tragedy Terra! Which. Of course is the Plant Fairy's name. Stella is a little mean to her about the plants and she takes it with a smile and some subtle snark back using classic literature Oh that's fun Terra points out the name-plant thing, and name drops her cousin Flora. That's. The one they replaced with Terra right? Terra's dad works in the greenhouse at the school which explains earlier (and her mum is named rose) Stella is indeed a second year and Musa's eyes change for. Lie detecting magic? and loves her headphones (Overstimulation?) Aisha wants somewhere to swim and we cut to a 'pond' by specialist training. Assuming she wants to sim because she's a water fairy, why Don't they have a pool? also this pond looks. Unpleasant for swimming

Girl specialist! Does that mean we have boy fairies? Boys. Fighting. Talking about girls. All gingers are nuts. Thanks edgelord AMAZING SHAGS THOUGH 'I didn't realize your hand was a red-head' it's not truly edge if we don't talk about sex every 10 minutes Subtitles earlier only said boy 1 boy 2 but now pinky or edgy is Riv Edgy smokes weed, and pinky is a big brother figure to him, and the head? of the special boys doesn't like edgy. Me neither older guy Bit of swordplay, more girls, every specialist has black training outfits, very military Pinky is Sky who is son of Guy of Place. an important lad. without context this is meaningless to me There's a giggly boy who laughs at the idea of a war in the future and gets a talking to. I suspect this boy will be re-occurring enough to die- he has those tertiary character elements with his intro and such (and he's black so I am prepared for your standard racist murder choices) Burned Ones exist outside the barrier, which makes me wonder if dead shepard was in the otherworld? There was nothing establishing that he was in any type of Other place but :/ Oh look edgey is having a smoke cross the barrier while we learn about the creatures that live beyond it. Time to find out these creatures no one young has ever seen are still kicking Specialist leader had to kill his own pa after a burned one got him. They also. Used a shotgun when trying to fight it. Do specialists even have powers or are they just good with weapons? Edgey finds the shepards corpse. Mostly blood 'it's been 16 years since the last sighting' 'Rosalind killed all the burned ones' ahh magical creature genocide hey when is abarat 4 coming out. and is rosalind hot?

School, gossip, Aisha and Musa are snarking at Tera for thinking the guy died of natural causes because we need to have these characters not actually like each other to make it stand out when they do Aisha talks about how she eats a lot and if she didn't swim she'd be massive and we cut to the plus sized tera looking uncomfortable are we really doing this? Tera points out that Musa was ignoring her earlier and it's all just uncomfortable and not great character conflict (but I thought I saw Musa holding an honest to god ipod? it's blue but it could be a phone case. Her hand is in the way) tera and dad interaction is nice, i'm also convinced they couldn't afford more than 3 magic adults

Girl with braids and metal in her hair! There were witches in winx right? Like 3 minor antagonist girls? I assume this is one of them. Because she has alternative fashion and is therefore evil /s Beatrix. Names in this series leave something to be desired (that something is subtly. I get it, they're carry overs from a series for a younger audience, she-ra had the same issue, but i can still poke fun) Swear count: Arsehole 2 Bollocks 1 Shit 1 She's a weird ass kissing with clearly ulterior motives

Bloom is Studying and her notebook is just FAIRY MAGIC POWER = EMOTIONS LOVE FEAR? HARTED? FIRE FAIRY CONTROL? in case you weren't paying attention Oh a flashback already to the magic triggering event? Her mother had pointed out she's an introvert, and past!Bloom doesn't Party. She goes Antiquing and is a Weird Loner (her 'basic bitch' of a mom's words) Swear count: Bitch 1 Bad daughter count: 1 Bad mother count: 1 Magic glowy eyes for Bloom: 1

Bloom Hates Parties and asks Pinky I mean Sky where she can be Away from People and he fears he'll be Mansplaing to her to. vague that it's dangerous outside instead of saying 'hey there's monsters and someone was just killed by possible one of them stay in the barrier' Stella wants to talk to Sky because they have History. I did hear there was a love triangle between these three. I am bored and everyone at this party is a nosey bitch who is watching their tense conversation. Also Something? Happens when Stella gets upset [mystical warbling] Random magic effects in the (very pretty) forest Bloom is trying to practice her magic on her own, and to do that she's gotta look at sad teen pics. And look, her burnt bedroom from her first power usage The fire magic is pretty good. I think fire is like. the opposite of water when it comes to cg where it almost always looks pretty good, while I swear i've seen the actual ocean look like a shitty render Magic out of control, bloom can't control her emotions, Aisha can stop her with water magic which makes some nice steam Bloom is angry at aisha for saving her. So far 3 of the 5 girls are abrasive at best remember when people made characters likeable? Swear count: Shit 1 (but it doubles as the literal meaning because of flooded toilets) Swear count: Bitch 1 Ass 1 Taking away your teen's door is. Really shitty. Not almost burn down your house worthy but damn cheerleader mom I do not understand sleep shirts with buttons. That seems painful if you lie the wrong way? Her mom was seriously burnt by first magic usage that's a backstory Shit count +1 Main character aspect time: dormant fairy blood line? awfully strong magic for that. baby who died day after it was born and now she's here? ...I was going to say changeling thanks aisha A Barbaric practice loving hints at long term world lore Hell is a bad word for kids!! Cutting to headmistress and her secret passage after finding out bloom is secret pureblood? this really is a harry potter thing

edgelord offers giggly some booze, and says pussies twice because he's Edgey and does peer pressure Tera calls him out and knows he's a sad nerd in disguise not a 'badass' and he says she's 'three people in disguise' because fatphobia shit +1 arehole +1 tera. chokes out edgelord with a vine because she's had enough of this shit. good for her edgelord is Riv, and he lived

OBLIGATORY GOOGLE SEARCH FOR THE TERM CHANGELING REMEMBER BELLA'S VAMPIRE GOOGLE GOD I LOVE TEEN FANTASY AND THEIR INSTANCE ON GOOGLING COMMON FANTASY TERMS OH hey the lamp bloom brought with her is the one she was fixing at home that's a nice touch Stella bonds with Bloom about homesickness, and the takes a selfie Musa is a mind fairy. So she. Is a telepath with purple eye magic? Oh there's types of 'connections' Memory, thought (others but i am cut off from the lore) Stella did Something to someone who Talked To Her Man last year and now lent Bloom her teleportation ring to send her some because miss mentor really cares more about her shitty man then helping the girls she's in charge of First World- earth Old Cemetery? Very Sexy. and bloom sweetie don't leave a mystical gateway open, and how will you explain to your parents how you're back so fast Wait she's only 16? SO this really is some european college where that's a funny way of saying High School Fire guilt, bad feelings about life shattering revelations, better connection with mother. I gotta say I have low expectations of this show carrying the family connection through the rest of this. That conversation felt more like a Hey We Made These Movements Onto Other Stuff Now

Lighting choices are interesting, with green, orange and purple for creepy warehouse. THE Creepy Warehouse where she would sleep without her parent's knowledge wow right that GIRL DROPS THE DAMN RING AT THE FIRST SIGN OF burned one looked more alien than werewolf-y here Decent Horror movie looks, and dude stole her ring. Rude. Saved by the headmistress, and tera/aisha/musa are here to great her Stella can't be here though because she has to greet a half naked freshly showered sky because life is suffering and producers insist people like to see teens half naked (who. Who?) shit +1 and she dumped him. pity part of one and using it to try to get your bone on. HEY A SONG I KNOW. IT'S WHATSITCALLED FROM THE BAYONETTA COMMERCIALS WAY BACK WHEN. in for the kill la roux. I do wish netflix would either commit to telling you what song was playing or didn't tell you at all

Riv offers Beatrix a hit from his joint because what Is a Bad Kid hasn't changed in like 70 years Blowing pot smoke into someone's mouth isn't as sexy as ya'll seem to think it is Musa has cute sleep socks with little pom poms, and I love Tera's floral jammies Tera offers a bluetooth speaker so they can listen to music together Musa also calls out Tera's fake happiness this is the good shit character interaction i live for Musa Empath Mind Fairy 'somber indie music'

If you kill a burned one in the human world Something? Extra bad happens? So the headmistress knows Bloom's a changeling, and ohhh that's the last time a burned one was spotted. Is Rosalind the famed Monster Slayer the birth mother of Bloom? Tera text flirts with Giggly who IS NAMED DANE and has a thing for. Sky? Riv? I told you these boys all look the same to me so if it's a half naked pic on fairy insta i'm out of context clues. Crymeariv is the insta name that answers that. Is this the slow burn enemies to lover mlm i can't finish this sentence i don't care riv is a dick Stella and Sky are in a bed and she doesn't seem to have a top on so Implied sexy times? MYSTERIOUS HOODED AND ROBED FIGURE CROSSES THROUGH THE BARRIAR AND SHOOTS THE BURNED ONE WITH LIGHTNING MAGIC OH IT'S beatrix

alt-J – Adeline as an ending song

[burts-baked-bees]

Saving The Boogeyman:

A 1978!Micheal Myers x reader fan fiction By oh hey-mishamigosx

Chapter Two: A Day In The Life.

Teacher Institute Days were an absolute godsend. After a not so relaxing weekend of homework and regular work, having a Monday free from the confining walls of Haddonfield High was like winning the lottery. Senior year was coming to an end for Y/n, and she couldn’t wait to escape the early mornings of high school and trade them in for the self picked classes of collage. It was no lie that she loved the small town she grew up in, but her heart longed for a city or town outside of the corn-ridden fields of the midwest.

October was drawing to a head as the weather had finally began to cool down, and the leaves were all but gone now. Halloween decorations littered front lawns and store fronts as Haddonfiled prepared for the spooky time. But Halloween was not a normal time for the residents of the small Illinois town; it never had been.

Dead leaves crunched underfoot as Y/n made her way down the street, her mind focused on a hot cup of coffee/tea at the diner just down the street. She was planning on meeting a few friends from school there to talk about the possibility of a party on the 31st, and she was excited to say the least. The only visible downside to the party was the sheer fact that she wouldn’t have a date to accompany her, which often mean eating candy and dancing to the new music from Grease or Rolling Stones greatest hits so far. She didn’t mind it terribly, she hadn’t met her match yet, but watching all her friends get down and dirty around her often led to the party being more of a discount porno then a fun get together. She was used to being the odd one out in her friend group by now, but that didn’t stop her from craving the fun she always had when with them. Even if she did end up leaving halfway through the party, prepping and decorating was her favorite part anyway. Setting up decorations, making spooky snacks, all of it was fun enough to warrant the party almost pointless by the time it rolled around.

“Y/n!” The voice came from behind her and she spun around to face the girl jogging down the sidewalk. There was a huge smile on her face as she trailed her boyfriend behind her. “Hey! If it isn’t the queen of Halloween herself! How are you enjoying this lovely October day off?”

Y/n laughed a bit as she pulled her hair from her eyes, “Hey Courtney, hey Jude.”

“Just like the Beatles!” Countney laughed as she tugged on her boyfriend's arm. He rolled his eyes as smiled,

“Sure thing babe.”

“You guys wanna head inside?” Y/n asked as she jabbed her thumb towards the diner door. Without another word the three burst into the doors of the diner, all laughs and smiles as two more boys stood from their corner booth and waved them over.

“Jesus Christ,” The woman behind the counter scoffed, “Aren’t you brats ever in school?” The ring of the bell in the cooks window drown out any response the teens could have fired back.

“Hotcakes! In the window!” Came the chefs booming voice. Y/n watched as the woman went to the window and brought the plate to a nearby table. She followed her friends to the back booth with a smile, and placed her bag on the floor as she squeezed in next to Courtney.

“So,” Jude began, “What are we having?” The two boys who had arrived earlier; Sam and Conner, laughed at the question with devilish grins.

We got enough whipped cream to kill a small village and even more chocolate milk then you could fathom.” Sam quipped with a grin. Y/n laughed at the comment and turned to the boys,

“You guys ever wish we were normal teens that got high and drunk instead of sitting at a diner drinking milk?” There was a hint of sarcasm in her voice as she swiped her finger through Conner’s whipped cream. The blonde retaliated by pulling his drink away from her with a scoff. She placed her finger in her mouth with a laugh enjoying the sweetness on her tongue.

“I like to remember my parties when their done thanks.” He took a huge swig of his drink and looked back to the group, mouth now full, “Plus. I’m no saint. I smoke cigarettes.”

“And that’s why your single asshole, no girl wants to french an ashtray.” Jude snarked, moving to plant a kiss on Courtney's lips.

“Good thing I’m gay as fuck then.”

There was a roar of laughter from around the table as others in the small space began looking to the teens with wary eyes. Y/n felt her face grow red as she peeled over with laughter, Conner smirked and took a bite of the pancakes that were hiding behind his coat on the table top.

As the laughter died down the sound of the TV on the other side of the diner became more clear in the air. The group continued the conversation but Y/n felt her mind drift to the broken words floating over the music and talking in the restaurant.

“Haddonfield…… free again…… nurse hurt in the process…… 14 victims….”

Y/n felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on edge as she stood, her friends looking at her very confused. She drifted slowly over to the counter, her mind in a fog as she found herself wondering why she was interested in the news at all. A sudden wave came over her that she couldn’t quite explain, but it was telling her to listen.

“Y/n. What’s wrong?” Came Courtney's voice from behind.

“Can you turn that up?” Y/n shouted as she looked to the red-headed news reporter on the screen. The snooty waitress from before furrowed her brow and grabbed the remote from under the counter, turning the volume up enough to hear clearly.

“You heard it hear first ladies and gentleman, the notorious Haddonfield Boogeyman escaped custody at Park Hill Sanatorium just last night, leaving his nurse injured but alive. Many of the guards were killed in the escape, but there is little known about the killer Micheal Myers current location.”

The diner fell silent as the news cast continued on, hushed murmurs soon filled the air as Conner stepped forward.

“Hey Y/n, doesn't your mom work there?” Jude elbowed Conner in the gut as the woman in the corner booth with her husband uttered a “Please God, not again.” Y/n froze as she stared at the name flashing on the screen.

Michael Myers.

Tag List: @h-e-l-l-b-r-o-k-e @uirene @perhaps-im-dave-rolland

[theplumsoldier]

INEBRIATED [1]

PART 1, PART 2

Summary: you friend has finally come home and you go out for a drink, you getting a tad too much being nervous you wont have the guts to seize the chance you so have been waiting for

Pairing: ari levinson x reader

Word count: 3414

Warnings: eventual smut, explicit language, vulgar language.

It was not long ago Ari had come home. You hoped it was for good this time, seeing as he had an ex-wife whom he was to agree on the terms and condition of their child with, howbeit even before getting into the bar to meet with him, you had brazed yourself to be let down, knowing full and well he was not one for settling.

You had not seen him for scarce three years. He had been busy playing the hero of his dreams, one of yours as well, even if you could not see it from your position in the IT-department of the law firm you worked at. As an old friend of his and surely nothing more than that, you fully supported him even if you disagreed on how he fulfilled those goals. Perhaps it was selfish of you to want him in your life than not, but you could not help it—and in more ways than one for in all the years you had known Ari, he had been nothing but charming and unruly.

You had spent the hours after work getting ready for your reunion. Showering, putting on a nice attire and putting on make-up, careful not to overdo your appearance seeing as you knew you were not going to be the only of his friends for this was a reunion of the whole gang. James, Debra, and Anthony and since Anthony had seen you earlier at work, he would know if you had dedicated an excessive amount of time on your look tonight.

Entering the bar you so often had found yourself in, you were greeted by the familiar stench of a wide range of liquor and noise. The people present for an after-work pint were loud, a game on the hovering screens, cheering and booing while others were simply joyous in the company of friends. You spotted your own people in a stall in the back of the room where you found Ari sitting in the middle, the center of attention as per usual. His hair had grown and the same with his beard, his mien was austere, his eyes watching the drink in his hand, mind places it should not be. At the sight of his missed figure, you felt your heart beat faster, a lump in your throat forming. As you set marching toward the booth you took notice of his lour.

It was Anthony that detected you striding to the table, cheering your name and Ari’s head craned up. Immediately his eyes widened with glee and a big grin veiled his face, a glint of happiness flashing behind his stunning orbs and Ari had to inhale deeply to restrain himself from jumping over the table and embracing you.

You would have taken rounds of greeting each present party, yet once Anthony let you go Ari managed to get out of his seat and his arms pulled you close, giving no indication of letting go as he leaned his head against yours.

“I can’t believe I’m finally seeing you again, it’s been so long!” managed Ari and moved his head so he could get a look at you. His grin only grew wider and his teeth clenched in a big, fat, goofy smile. “Oh God! Look at you, you look so grown up!”

Laughing your hands slipped from around his shoulders, to his arms. They still were enormous, if not larger than last you had managed to get a feel. “I certainly would hope so. I’ve only been an adult for half my life.”

The sound of your voice made him weak in the knees and his grip around you tightened, pulling you close once again, discreetly inhaling your scent. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you! Oh, you have no drink—c’mere let’s get you a drink!”

. . .

“Goddamnit, Ari, I’m so sorry I’m so fucking wasted,” whined you as you did your best to gain your balance, wondering how your feet had suddenly stopped functioning.

“Don’t worry. Duck your head,” replied he with a chuckle and put his hand on the top of your head, carefully urging you into the car.

“No, really, Ari, I’m sorry like I don’t know—” rambled you on, oblivious he had already shut the door on you and was making his way to the other side as you continued. “I was just so nervous for tonight and it’s been so long and I was afraid it was gonna be weird and I figured if I could just loosen up a tad it would all go much smoother. I didn’t mean to actually get this shitfaced, I mean I know I’ll wake up in the morning with major regret and I have work at 10 and shit—”

“Y/N, Jesus, sit still,” begged Ari, leaned over you in attempt to buckle your seatbelt. It was not until you realized how close he was and you slumped back in the seat, inspecting his features carefully. He looked so beautiful. His locks of blond and fine-looking beard, the crease knitting his eyebrows together as he himself did his best to focus while being this close to you.

You heard the buckle click and hummed as he looked up at you, eyes focused on his pink lips and you smiled to yourself, shaking your head.

“Hey, let me drive, you’re drunk,” insisted you in a serious tone and assuring gaze, hand sliding down your side to unbuckle and Ari laughed, stopping you.

“What? You’re the drunk one, I’ve been drinking water for the last two hours!”

“Huh,” hummed you and sat back again, watching him intently and closed your mouth.

Ari’s eyes took in your grimace and he could not help but chuckle, sucking in a deep breath. He ran his hand through his hair and gave you a curious look. “Do you want me to get a cab instead?”

“No, no, there’s no need. I trust you with my life, you know.”

Although your words undoubtedly were not supposed to mean much, they halted in his mind and had you looked him in the eyes you would surely have seen hearts for at that moment he looked at you as if you were his world. You were inebriated and unable to think clearly, he knew what it felt like and he knew how it always made one speak either empty words or those finished hibernating, spilling all one’s deepest thoughts. He could not categorize them, not like this so he turned the ignition instead and music began playing.

It encouraged you to shift and lean forward and open the glove compartment, rummaging through the glove compartment for his music. In it was a flashlight, at least five CDs, a pack of cigarettes, folded paper which seemed to be a map, a brochure, a couple of condoms and a belt. Curiously examining one of the foil packets you tipped your head to the side, eyes squinting and you went on to get the pack of cigarettes. Ari’s eyes constantly diverted to your actions but while he saw you so rigorously scrutinize the condom packet, he candidly had no idea what to say to you. He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, driving the car to where he remembered your apartment to be located. Finding Judas Priest’s Sad Wings of Destiny album you inserted the cd and held your finger in the air, as if to tell Ari, who already was being uncharacteristically quiet, quiet and you closed your eyes, preparing yourself for the overwhelming sound of the majestic fade-in dual guitar passage. Ari grinned at this and made a turn, leaving the road on which the bar was situated.

Your right arm was thrown over your head and leaned back in the seat blowing smoke into the car, you had a difficult time remembering when you had last felt this relaxed, felt this good. Tilting your head in the slightest, unobtrusively watching Ari in awe, only falling deeper for this man and you cursed at yourself.

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothin’,” brushed you off and wrapped your lips around the cigarette. Most of your lipgloss had worn off so it did not stick to your lips as you pulled it away, though a shade of red was left.

Ari reached over to take the cigarette from you and you went to roll down the window, leaning your head against the side, hair tossed by the wind. The street lights seemed so pretty at this time. It had to be midnight by now and people were out on the streets having fun, celebrating weekend finally had come. Tonight you had celebrated something else, someone else and it was someone special. The thought he likely was to leave again soon distressed you and perhaps there was, in fact, nothing to celebrate. He could be going back there, he could get hurt. And it hurt you so bad, being so close to him and able to plead for him to not leave you behind again; for you knew you had no choice in that matter; it was not up to you.

“You alright over there?” quizzed Ari, casting glances your way after you had been quiet for a while.

“Ari, I can feel the Earth moving.”

He laughed, eyes on the road. “That’s the car, Y/N.”

“No, I’m serious—like the actual rotation. . . Wow,” whispered you, holding your hands to the sides of your head to keep it from spinning.

You were beginning to feel nauseous and closed your eyes again, but quickly found out it would not help your case, if not exacerbate the situation entirely. You rolled the window further down and retreated the cigarette.

“So are you staying this time?” asked you bluntly and adjusted your pencil skirt, gaining Ari’s attention and as he came to a red light he carefully looked at you, wondering if you wanted him to stay. Then your boyfriend came to his mind and he could feel his chest rise instinctively, the very thought putting a bitter taste in his mouth.

His lips parted, irresolute. “For some time, yeah.”

To be honest, Ari did not want to. He had little that was waiting for him here, even his child and ex-wife had learned to see little of him and if he could not even be frank about his feelings for you, he saw no meaning of wasting his time away in a place he could not help anyone. It was one of the chivalrous traits you always had admired, his selflessness and although it accounted for a larger fraction of his personality, you had so wished he sometimes would take the time for himself. He deserved to settle at some point, lean back in his seat and be content with what he had accomplished for it was worth the Nobel prize you thought. Another attribute was that his boss had told him to take some time off. For once had he not gotten fired for recklessness, so that must have counted for something, howbeit Ari understood he was not getting back in the field until he had taken some time to contemplate.

“Sick, then maybe I don’t have to get into a loop of thinking how desperate you are to avoid me seeing as you’re always away for fuckin’ years at a time,” you tone was hostile, though the layer of humor that was laced in your tone, let him know: no hard feelings.

Ari laughed and you had to hold yourself upright, to gain what balance seemed a stranger to you.

“Please don’t think that Y/N,” chuckled he and when you looked back to him his eyes sparkled so beautifully, the various lights of the streets reflecting and Rob Halford’s soothing voice did nothing to make your knees any less weak. You smiled at Ari, his glee so contagious and you felt your face flush with red. Your head fell in a shaking manner, the smile slowly fading while your eyes softened and looked at the dark sky, the blue canvas sprinkled with shining stars. Observant as ever, Ari was quick to notice your changed demeanor. “You don’t actually think that, do you?”

Once turning your head your lips parted to respond, but his face held a concoction of all melancholic. You offered him a wistful smile, eyes growing heavy by the minute and trailing down his body. “Of course not.”

Settling with a dubious nod in forbearance, Ari could not keep his mind from wandering, trying his best to not conjecture a wild deduction.

He then decided to change the subject, mentally scolding himself as soon as the words escaped his lips for surely that was not someone he wanted to talk about. “So how’s Dan?”

“Dan?” You took a minute to process the name when a flow of memories lit in your mind. “Oh, Dan! We’re eh. . . I thought you knew, we’re not together anymore.”

Admittedly you felt as if your heart punctured at the very thought of a longlasting relationship. Your previous partner, Dan, had been the one to introduce you to Ari and while you had known him for a large part of your life, your love had faded over the years. It was inevitable and his wicked nature could never have been something you could adapt to, neither did you want to. He never physically had hurt you, which was a sort of problem for if you were to talk to anyone about your problems, that seemed to be what mattered. Not the fact that he was possessive, dangerously toxic and emotionally abusive. It was something no one could picture him as for upon barely knowing the guy, he was the kind you would look to for comfort and for help, although when engaged to him he was the closest thing to a monster you had ever met. Your parents especially were a party unable to comprehend your decision, excited for the blooming family and resolute on having granddaughters- and sons within the next decade. To think they scolded you for ending an unhealthy relationship was beyond your comprehension.

“I didn’t,” murmured Ari quietly. He was not proud to admit it but his heart was running wild as he realized this was the first time you were single in all the time he had known you. He thought it made him a bad man, to think you would be ready to jump into his arms after ending a long relationship. While you were ready for just that, you knew you could not just do such a careless thing. He had enough on his plate, you were certain. The last thing Ari needed was the remains of his old friend’s wreckage ex. “When was this?”

“A couple of months ago,” responded you, lifting the cigarette to inhale before flicking the stub out of the window. Beside you, Ari merely let out a hum, so you went on, feeling almost obligated to defend yourself regarding your wise decision. “But to be honest I had wanted to break it off for a long time.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” mumbled you, fiddling with your nail polish. “We just didn’t. . . Click anymore.”

“Y/N, Dan never—” Ari paused his surely overconfident words, choosing carefully how to phrase himself. He knew it was not in his right to show his curiosity, but he could not deny Dan always had been rather violent tendencies. “Mistreated you, did he?”

Gulping at the very thought, you sucked in on your cheeks and looked back out of the window. Swallowing the lump in your throat, Ari noticed how you uncomfortably shifted in your seat. Whether it was the want for pity or need to be honest with someone you hoped with all your heart could understand, you decided to not be completely secluded.

“Not physically, no.”

Ari bit down on his lip, feeling his ragged breath through his nostrils. A moment passed before spoke. “Are you happy?”

You smiled and looked over, his eyes already waiting for you. “I’m happier.”

“Good.”

. . .

Stumbling inside your home, you threw the keys on the table and went directly for the kitchen while Ari closed the door after you. You filled a glass with water and found some pills to prevent the headache you would experience in the morning. Tripping over your own feet, Ari took the time to stop you on have you against the table.

“Hey, hey, let’s get these off before you sprain your ankle,” adviced he on got on his knees before you. You could not help but chuckle at the sight, dropping your head back and closing your eyes.

Pulling the heels off of your feet you felt the cold floor on your bare skin and shivered to look back down. His head was pointed down and his blond hair fell gorgeously in front of his face and to get a better look at him, you sat on the floor before him, once again he hovered you.

“What are you doing?” grinned he a funny look on his face.

You took another sip of the water, eyelids nearly closing as you looked at him through your eyelashes. “I just wanted to get a better look at you. While you were away I feared I would forget you.”

“Did you now?”

“Yeah. Can I kiss you?”

With shock at the sudden ask Ari’s eyes widened, a line forming between his brows in puzzlement. “What?”

“Please,” coaxed you and put your hand on his chest, yet made no move to connect your lips.

Stunned, Ari at in a daze, unsure whether to do what he had only ever dreamed of or tell you off. You were unequivocally inebriated and would it not be wrong of him to make his advance in such a vulnerable state? Did you even want to kiss him, or did you simply want a kiss? Ari knew what being lonesome felt like.

A monosyllabic laugh fell from his lips and you distanced yourself, giving him a look. “Let’s get you to bed, Y/N.”

Groaning as he helped you to your feet, you let him lead the way to your bedroom.

“I can walk fine by myself,” proclaimed you and just like that, Ari gave you a doubtful look and let go subsequent to you nodding your head avidly. You fell right to the ground and breathed out. “Can’t help but think you did that on purpose.”

“Come on,” laughed he and got you back up, this time holding you closer to his body and you leaned your head on him as you allowed him to lead you in the dark.

Getting you unharmed into the bedroom, Ari turned on the lamp on the bedside and sat you on the bed. Before doing anything else, you fell back and exhaled deeply, beginning to unbutton your dress shirt.

“Uh, Y/N—”

“Won’t you stay with me tonight, Ari?”

While he emitted a guttural sound Ari drew his hand through his hair, then scratched at his beard. “Uh, I don’t know, Y/N. I don’t think you would be comfortable with me here in the morning.”

You moaned out, hands dropping to your side as you gave up on the impossibly small buttons. Pushing yourself up by your elbows, you were leaned back and looked so inviting as your eyes locked.

Truthfully, Ari could not tell if you were purposefully toying with him or what was going on, but he could not wrap his head around the fact that you for once gave yourself to him in other circumstances than those of his fantasies.

“No, I would, I just—I promise I won’t do. . . Anything you don’t want, just—I don’t want to be alone.” So it was simply loneliness, thought Ari despondent. “You don’t even have to stay here all night, just. . . Just please, I hate being alone.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Ari looked around himself, as if to make sure no one was around and he shifted on his feet. Your eyes were watching him with care and it was then he heeded the glossy coating on your eyes. His jaw clenched and unclenched and he sat down beside you.

Pushing yourself up fully you found his delicate gaze.

“I’ll stay. Only to make sure you don’t drown in vomit.”

A smile crept up on your lip, curling it mischievously and you leaned back on the mattress.

[this-is-a-love-story-fleabag]

Fork you, then (1/?)

You asked for this, you degenerates.

Fleabag saves her friend Boo's life and earns a spot in the Good Place, but is everything here really so perfect? And what's up with the hot priest next door? This chapter has 1208 words. Also on ao3.

"Watch out, Boo!" I shriek, throwing myself into the cycle lane to push my best friend out of the path of an approaching phalanx of bicycles and back onto the pavement.

The world goes white for a second.

All at once, I find myself sitting on a comfortable, overstuffed sofa in a bland, warmly-lit room. Blinking my eyes open, I read the bright green text splashed across the opposite wall.

"Welcome! Everything is fine."

"Watch out, Boo!" I shriek, throwing myself into the cycle lane to push my best friend out of the path of an approaching phalanx of bicycles and back onto the pavement.

The world goes white for a second.

All at once, I find myself sitting on a comfortable, overstuffed sofa in a bland, warmly-lit room. Blinking my eyes open, I read the bright green text splashed across the opposite wall.

"Welcome! Everything is fine."

Improbable.

A door in the wall opens, and a petite blonde woman steps out into the room, a tight-lipped but polite smile on her face.

"Hi there," she says. "I'm Eleanor. Come on in."

I follow her into the office, which is classy, in an 80s hotel reception kind of way.

"This is my assistant, Michael," she says, gesturing to a handsome older gent in a sharp suit who's hiding behind a plant. Very relatable.

She picks up a folder and shuffled through some papers, and I slide awkwardly into the chair opposite her, feeling like I'm walking into a job interview.

"You are dead," she says, far too calmly.

"Are you sure? I don't feel dead," I joke. She doesn't laugh.

Oh no, I'm in hell.

"You're in the Good Place," she continues. "Thanks to your selfless and wonderful acts down on earth, you have earned your place here in paradise."

Before I can stop myself, I snort. "Standards are really slipping, then." I am incredibly uncomfortable.

A muscle twitches in the side of her face. "According to your file here, which I can totally read, you've done some amazing things. Michael?"

I look back over my shoulder as he rouses himself a bit, giving his head a shake. "Saving your friend Boo-" he offers.

"Oh right," I say, remembering suddenly. How did I forget my best friend trying to commit suicide via cyclist? I turn back to... Eleanor, was it? "Can I see her? Is she OK? She's not dead, too, is she?"

"Let's see." She makes a sharp gesture, throwing a holographic screen into mid-air, and Boo's face appears, tear-stained but physically unharmed, having a massive panic attack on the pavement. Classic Boo.

"Boo is just fine. Would you like to see how you died?"

No. God no.

"Yes, thank you," I hear myself say.

Oops.

She brings the video up on the floating screen. Ugh, I hate watching videos of myself. Is that really what my nose looks like from the side?

I was expecting to see myself get hit by the first bike. I was not expecting the second or third. Or the bus that liquefied me after I got flipped into the road.

What a waste. My arse was having a real renaissance this month.

I can't tear my eyes away for what feels like an eternity, even when all there is on screen are paramedics attending to the pile of goo and crunchy bits that was formerly my body.

"What happens now?" I ask hoarsely. "Is there some kind of trial or, I don't know, application form?"

"No, your points total has already been calculated. We know for a fact that you belong here in the Good Place."

"That cannot possibly be the case."

She balks a little before plastering another polite smile onto her face. "How about I show you around the neighbourhood?"

"Listen," I say desperately, "I'm a greedy, perverted, selfish, apathetic, cynical, depraved, morally bankrupt woman who can't even call herself a feminist, so this is either an elaborate prank or you've made a terrible mistake."

She's unmoved. Fuck, I only pull out the brutal honesty as a last resort.

"We don't make mistakes," she says, with the firm conviction of someone who definitely makes mistakes.

"Fine," I acquiesce, resolving to drop the matter for the time being. "I'm ready for the tour, I guess."

The neighbourhood is, in a word, heavenly. There's no other way to describe it - everything is clean and beautifully designed, with verdant greenery and a frozen yogurt shop on every corner. All of the people I encounter are blandly, disturbingly cheerful and friendly.

Literally not one single person has laughed at my jokes so far. I might scream.

After a short stroll through the streets, while Eleanor points out the various features and amenities available to me, we arrive at what is apparently my house - which is, I have to say, objectively nice. A red-brick townhouse tucked in a corner of a charming little cobbled street, with climbing roses trailing over the front door and freesias bursting from the window boxes.

Inside is a comfortable-looking, reasonably chic bachelorette pad, featuring a well-stocked wine cellar, a shower big enough to host an entire rugby team (goals), and a living room mantelpiece covered in framed photos of my family and friends.

My gut tightens as I see Boo's smiling face beaming at me from behind the glass, flashes of memory assaulting me. Mum, dad and Claire are watching me from an old family photo, seeing right through me. I squeeze my eyes shut and turn away from their accusing faces.

I want a cigarette. Are you allowed to smoke in heaven?

Eleanor's voice drifts through my panic. "-sometime around seven, just as an informal getting-to-know-you," she's saying.

"Sorry, what?" I have to ask.

"Ugh, I'm sorry, I don't know how to talk to British people," she says. "You probably have different words for stuff. Uh, Tahani would call it a soiree?"

"Tahani?" I ask, clearly having missed a few steps in this explanation.

"It is I!" announces a six foot tall Amazonian goddess, striding dramatically through my front door. "I heard my name and thought it would be a good moment to make an entrance. I am Tahani Al-Jamil. Welcome to the neighbourhood."

"Wow, everyone here is really attractive," I try. Hey, if I can't make them laugh, I can at least flirt a bit, right? "This really must be heaven."

"It really is," says Eleanor with another tight, insincere smile. I look around the room. Seriously, no takers?

"I'm just here to bring you a little welcome basket, with some home-baked scones and clotted cream, and to invite you to tonight's soiree," continues Tahani, as though I hadn't said anything.

"Knew it," whispers Eleanor to Michael.

Tahani air-kisses me on both cheeks and makes her exit, leaving me with a basket of baked goods and an expensive-looking card proclaiming the location, time, and dress code of the party in gold letters. Informal evening wear, apparently.

I hear a knock at my door.

"That should be your next-door neighbour," says Eleanor, unlatching the door as though she owns the place. Which I guess she does? "He said he'd come say hi after he'd settled in."

Thank Christ, maybe he's a normal person. I swear, if someone doesn't either laugh at my jokes or fuck me in the next half hour I'm going to die. Again.

Eleanor ushers him in and he steps through the open door, holding a bottle of wine and waving with his other hand. I take him in, the handsome wave of his hair, the way his shirt strains over his biceps... and the dog collar around his beautiful neck.

Oh fuck. He's a fucking priest.

[purplepersnicketywrites]

hmmm maybe arguing over the best kind of game to play?

whoo, sorry i haven’t been getting back to any of the things all you wonderful people have been sending in, but i’m here now!

games, games, okay so my mind jumped straight to video games ‘cause i’ve been neglecting my switch recently lmao. okay.

hope you like it!!!

“I’m telling you, man,” Eijirou said. “You will enjoy this.”

Bakugou pouted. So maybe he wasn’t all that convinced, but Eijirou was determined.

“I don’t see why we can’t just fuckin’-”

“Bakubro.”

Bakugou scowled at the interruption. “Smash is fine, or Mario Kart, or-”

“My dude,” Eijirou cut him off again. “I respect your enjoyment of competitive games where we can bulldoze each other into a fine pixelated paste, but-”

“If you respect it then why are you changing it?” Bakugou asked, scowling some more. He was gonna give himself wrinkles.

“Co-op mode,” Eijirou said, staring his best friend down. “Think of it as a teambuilding activity to improve our rapport.”

Bakugou narrowed his eyes and looked at the screen. “If our ‘rapport’ can be improved any more we’ll be fuckin’ attached to each other.”

Bakugou’s words sent a fuzzy wave of warmth through Eijirou’s gut. It always happened when Bakugou acknowledged their friendship - he felt all tingly and happy and could never fight off his grin. Not that he wanted to. It felt good to be respected, to be liked, by someone as awesome and intense as Bakugou.

Eijirou slung an arm around the other boy’s shoulder. “And would that be so bad, best buddy o’ mine? C'mon, please play Lego Lord of the Rings with me.”

Eijirou stuck out his bottom lip and set his puppy-dog eyes on his friend. Bakugou glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “Explain the game, then.”

Yes. Eijirou launched into a quick breakdown of everything. How the aim was to basically break everything to collect the in-game money and discover all of the hidden items.

“Ain’t it supposed to be to complete the story?” Bakugou raised an eyebrow at him.

“If I wanted to do that,” Eijirou said, gently bopping Bakugou’s nose with the controller. “I would watch the movies. Hey! I know how to indulge your whole competition thing at the same time!”

Bakugou looked at him, expectant.

“Betcha can’t get more studs than me on any of the levels,” Eijirou grinned. Bakugou kept looking at him. Eijirou felt his grin start to falter under his scrutiny. What was Bakugou looking for, here? “Is there something on my face?”

Bakugou looked away. “Not anymore.”

“What?” Kirishima frowned. “What was on my face?”

“Let’s start the first fuckin’ level already!” Bakugou said, pulling out from underneath Eijirou’s arm and using his elbow to knock it into a better gaming position. Well that was classic Bakugou-I-don’t-lie-but-I-sure-do-deflect-Katsuki alright.

Whatever Bakugou had been looking at, he didn’t want to talk about. It wasn’t like he could have been staring past at Eijirou’s wall - his eyes had definitely been on Eijirou’s face.

Hm.

Eijirou pondered on this as they began play the first level of the game, but was soon distracted b the fun of it all. Bakugou got into it, just like Eijirou had known he would, smashing his way through the level and the various enemies with the same manic energy he had for everything else. Eijirou decided to goad him by demonstrating that friendly fire was totally possible in this game, and taught him what happened when a character died - a portion of their collected studs dispersed for someone else to pick up. Eijirou being the someone else, of course.

Bakugou was swift to relatiate.

It was a wonder either of them had any studs left at the end of it all, and Eijirou was left snickering at Bakugou’s expletive-filled grumbles that they didn’t manage to fill up the meter for the studs up to a hundred percent.

“Shouldn’ta kept pushin’ me off the cliffs, huh?” Eijirou said, seizing his chance at a pause in the cloud of smouldering rage that had been pouring from Bakugou’s mouth like smoke.

“Shouldn’ta fuckin’ started it, then,” Bakugou said back, scowling, but in his amused way instead of his angry way. “So we can replay the levels with all the weird extra things that let you get at the hidden shit?”

“Well you have to unlock the characters that have the things first, so it’s generally a pretty good idea to play through at least some of the other levels before you go back,” Eijirou said. Bakugou grunted. “Well lookee here, someone’s enjoying himself! And you didn’t believe me when I said it was a good game.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Bakugou grumbled. “It didn’t look like my kinda shit at first glance.”

“And at second glance?” Eijirou tilted his head.

“Ugh, I guess it’s a decent ‘rapport’ building exercise,” Bakugou said, kicking at Eijirou’s leg and trying to hid the corners of his smile.

Eijirou kicked him back. “Weren’t you the one who said we couldn’t improve on that? Or we’d end up, what, attached?”

Eijirou mimed his hands sticking together and pulled a fake-horrified face. Bakugou snorted. “Everything can be improved.”

“Why, Katsuki, I think you’re already attached to me,” Eijirou said. Wait. Wait had he just-

“Oi,” Bakugou frowned at him. Not an angry frown. Thoughtful, maybe. “Did you just use my given name?”

“Um-”

“It’s fine,” Bakugou said. “If you wanna use it, you’ve got my fuckin’ permission or whatever.”

“Really?” Eijirou felt rather like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a car. He stared at Bak- Katsuki, who had folded his arms over his chest, and tried to meet his eyes, but the blond had looked off to the side with a guarded expression.

He shrugged. “You’re my fuckin’ best friend, so if anyone can, I figure-”

Eijirou abandoned the controller to pounce on Katsuki and pull him into a hug. “You can use mine! Aw man, this makes me happy, y’know?”

“Get off me, ya big dumb rock,” Katsuki grunted, pushing Eijirou off to the side. Eijirou sprawled over the available space in the bed.

“Hey, Katsuki~♫,” Eijirou hummed, grinning. His heart felt like it was swelling fit to burst. “You’re my best friend~♫!”

“There it is,” Katsuki said, quiet. Huh? There what was? Eijirou watched him struggle with the words. “You- You shouldn’t not do that. I, fuck, uh, smiling. You shouldn’t not- Fuck. Smiling fits your stupid happy face. Keep doing it.”

Oh! Wow, that was so sweet it was giving Eijirou butterflies. “That’s easy-peasy when you’re here, Katsuki.”

Katsuki turned red and covered his face in his hands. “Augh! How the fuck do you just say weird shit like that!”

“I dunno, I don’t even really think about it,” Eijirou said. He looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t wanna like, bottle up my thoughts, ‘cause what if I regret not saying something?”

“Regret not saying something, huh?” Katsuki sounded pensive. Eijirou really wanted to look over at him, but he also didn’t want to distract him when he sounded like he was really thinking about stuff. “Like what?”

“Oh, well, like, you know. Nice things,” Eijirou waved a hand up above him. “What if something happens and you never see someone again? It’d be nice if their last memory of you was of someone smiling and offering you a compliment. Also, I guess I wanna be honest and tell people what I think when I think it, in case they need it or even if they don’t.”

There were a few moments of silence, and then Katsuki shifted a little on Eijirou’s bed and tapped his shoulder. Eijirou turned to face him. It was nice being so close to his friend. He could feel Katsuki’s body heat, warmer than most on account of his quirk, and he could peer into Katsuki’s eyes as the blond gave him a long, searching look.

“I like that- That you try to be honest,” Katsuki said, words slightly stilted. Aw, man, he was trying out the compliment thing! Eijirou felt so damn proud of his friend, and was about to say so, only Katsuki didn’t sound like he was finished as he took another breath. “I like… You.”

Oh. Eijirou felt his own breathing hitch and catch in his throat and he grabbed at the first part of Katsuki he could reach - his elbow. “Wow, I, okay.”

“Okay? I fuckin’ say,” Katsuki gestured wildly. “That, and all you say is okay?”

“I think I’m still processing it,” said Eijirou. “And I said ‘wow’ too, ‘cause, like, wow.”

Bakugou Katsuki liked him! He could scarcely believe it. Eijirou might not have believed it, if he hadn’t heard it directly from the blond’s mouth. The blond’s mouth that was pulled up in a faux-disgruntled pout because he was nervous. Nervous! As if Katsuki had to worry about anything like that. He was in Eijirou’s bed for goodness sake, and they were practically canoodling already.

Eijirou shuffled a little closer.

“Good wow,” he clarified, and Katsuki’s expression relaxed.

“Eijirou,” Katsuki said, and, oh man. Oh man. “Wanna go on a date?”

“Yeah,” Eijirou said, squeezing Katsuki’s elbow where he was still holding onto it.

“Good,” Katsuki grinned back at him, and Eijirou pulled both of them up.

He felt around for his dropped controller. “Alright, man, are you ready for level two?”

[kindtobechurlish]

Many can’t come to realize a place that is defined by gates, and the gates makes a deed to the land - and the account of buying back land that you cannot afford (seven years) is the description/report of the gated city. In the gates being the gates, you can come to see judgements that make the fate of the slave. The heathen would be a pagan, unholy, and the pagan makes means for a Christian mould due to women having the ability to be the “pompous pharaoh” outside of the religion mould. What happened when people become just as their god? Admit it, you would see that an oracle is actually speak, and in speak do you see a priest or priestess acting as a medium through whom advice or prophecy was sought from the gods in classical antiquity. Who is ready to act as a priest or priestess? Christianity put a muzzle on mouths, and the muse just shows a tree hanging that brought in Greek Reform as all Classical Antiquity put the Blondes in slavery.

I’d have means to bring in the penalty of the sack, and in the fact being the fact people would have means to yoke themselves by a master. They could be put in slavery for seven years, and a man who was single leave out alone in seven years (least he got a wife and loves his master and family more than freedom, with his awl). In the fact of slavery, you can come to see the penalty of the sack and propaganda/work that brings in a bear economy. Men, women, families, rushing to be put in slavery and the plantation is the plantation. You like Donald Trump and the farmers, you like something that you have never seen before as women make it about humans rights?

Donald Trump has his “Truth”, and he isn’t breaking headlines to make screen shots be “trending topics”, he lost it! I know how to hit you in the gut, and anal seepage is about.. and I know how to make anal seepage come about as I wouldn’t let you MIRROR ME! I would know about the pope, anal seepage, the act of children being children, a culture that does nothing about Jim Cuff (calling the weird runaway (the big joke) Uncle Joe), and now I see a people who want to be accepted by means of Christianity! I would say to them, why are you so against Bonaparte just to secretly like Hitler, and why when people talk Hitler you are this big Ronald Reagan Enthusiastic Emphasizer? “A woman has to make you NUT!”, so now you are trying to make me into your goddess universe? You have lost, YOUR MIND!

Ball cap boy wants to see a big dick make someone barf, and during anal sex and “kissing” he smell barf as he talks about how good chewing gum is. Dragon breath, instead of all of those dicks in your ass and mouth - why don’t you insist that you had a bad oral stage and a bad anal stage.. so you need to eat healthy so you can take a good shit, you need to put smoke in your mouth because you didn’t get good breast milk (fake milk) or you “miss it”, why don’t you be honest? So, when you understand the pagan you can come to see people who would adapt the morals of sod occultist and the information would come in a zenith of sex. They climaxed, a discharge happened, and now they are occupying a building least wasting time occupying time. You don’t understand this shit? So, now a woman is standoffish towards me because occupation comes about by sex, and countries quite frankly don’t occupy. Hitler fucked Europe, the Kike ruled it as one percent, and the fucking amounted to human rights abuses. Reparations and a personification of ancient culture and occupation? What is one privy member and a damaged dick, rumors of being bitten by a goat in thy youth? Now you like JIM CROW (RAGTIME)? When you understand that, and being hit by gas, don’t downplay the wounded - especially when those wounds (trauma) don’t amount to damned DISAPPOINTMENT.

It says, “And if men strive together, and one smite another with a stone, or with his fist, and he die not, but keepeth his bed: If he rise again, and walk abroad upon his staff, then shall he that smote him be quit: only he shall pay for the loss of his time, and shall cause him to be thoroughly healed. And if a man smite his servant, or his maid, with a rod, and he die under his hand; he shall be surely punished. Notwithstanding, if he continue a day or two, he shall not be punished: for he is his money.” I would define a slave and a random man, just for you to too see, “And if any mischief follow, then thou shalt give life for life, Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, Burning for burning, wound for wound, stripe for stripe. And if a man smite the eye of his servant, or the eye of his maid, that it perish; he shall let him go free for his eye's sake. And if he smite out his manservant's tooth, or his maidservant's tooth; he shall let him go free for his tooth's sake,” and now you understand “human rights.” You would think that slavery is too cruel, but a missing eye in a hit is freedom as that tooth is just as the eye. The government wants you on drugs with lost teeth, as the SS is the SS? I’m not fond of that propaganda, for racialism brings means to enable a rodent caudate to make clean waters unclean. You don’t understand pipes, and a government that doesn’t care (exposed in heat and electricity)? One rebuke done unto a wise man does more than a thousand lashes done unto a fool, when you can understand this you see the difference between me and Greek reform. “Rabbi.” The Greek reform would disarm your strongest and its about “trust” as Athena becomes Sparta, government controlled (racialist) armies, but I would enable “masters” to be masters and they invest in “huts” just for you to see a people for a people and masters are masters. Oh, some slaves are designated to clean the plantation and hut, and they have two days to do both as they get the Sabbath off? I’m on to your gig, I’m on to your scam. A slave lost a foot, and a tooth or eye isn’t a foot and “equal rights” says foot for a foot and a slave is your money (yea, your prosperity). I’m on to your gig, I’m on to your scam. I’m not scared to send rockets when a village rebels, to ask if they learned their lesson. It’s clean and unclean laws, Deuteronomy 13! Many can’t understand a donkey, and I’m not bringing in reform that does nothing but put me on a cross. I’d rather make you like your god as I understand the science (witchcraft) with the god called Thoth. Madness! Udjat eye would personify wheat/corn, a seat, and now you see means for the tomcat to make people goose step. The goose step is means to get a duck and give it to a rat. The duck given to the rat only personifies “the field of the reeds”, and now you understand “funerary cult” with the moles and bats!

[fortisfiliae]

Gin, Ice and Everything Nice [Draco Malfoy x reader]

Summary: This one shot takes place some years after Hogwarts, in the early 2000s, where Draco and the reader meet again by coincidence, to find out they’re not as different as the thought.

A/n: This is for @littleroserabbit as she’s a total sweetheart and needs a little bit of fluff in her life like we all do. I’m usually writing for the Marauders, it’s my first time creating something for Draco and a lot more modern than my usual fics, so I hope I’m meeting everyone’s needs.

Warnings: fluff, get’s a little steamy but nothing too wild

Word count: 2.6k

The past week has been nothing but absolute shit.  It should have gone so well, everything was meant to be perfect in your new, independent adult life. You rented a cosy flat in London, managed to get a job in the Ministry’s headquarter and even met a chap called Aaron, who was interested enough to ask for your number. It all seemed excellent, except that it wasn’t.

The flat was described as cosy, which would have been appropriate if cosy stood for tiny, shabby and somewhat gross.  Your job at the ministry, in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, sounded splendid when you read its description on the registration sheet, but turned out to be a disastrous struggle with heaps of paperwork, under the control of a woman, that could have been easily related to Satan himself.

None of your friends lived near you anymore, so you couldn’t vent your anger and complain about your current situation properly. The occasional owl you received from some of them, made you happy for a second, although most of their letters consisted of their collective stories, telling you how much fun they were having, going out together and enjoying themselves, without you.

At least there was Aaron, who asked you to meet him at a bar on Friday evening. Right? You were on your way to said bar, called ‘Chequers’, already walking down the busy street and looking for its neon sign when your phone rang. Two short beeps chimed out of your handbag, letting you know you received a text.  You stopped to take your phone out and read Aaron’s message:

“Hey, sorry I can’t make it tonight.”

He really had the guts to cancel your date five minutes before it started. Your brows furrowed, when you answered:

“Wow, thanks. Could have told me a little bit earlier, I’m almost there.”

You stood on the pavement, clicking the back of your heel to the ground and stared bitterly on the screen of your Nokia before it buzzed again: 

“Told you I’m sorry. I think we shouldn’t keep this going. Sorry again.”

Did he just dump you via text? A great ending to a perfect week. You sighed and let your phone fall back into your bag, not bothering to even answer that git anymore. Shaking your head, as you still couldn’t believe the audacity he had, to dismiss you such cowardly way, you turned around to see that you stood right in front of Chequers.  Shrugging, you debated with yourself, if you should walk in alone. You really could use a drink, that’s for sure, but going to a bar on your own, seemed a little pathetic. ‘Screw it’, you thought. The day couldn’t get any worse and you didn’t know anyone here anyway.

The air was thick and coated with cigarette smoke when you entered and the music playing was drowned by people’s voices. It was rather full inside, only a few tables were unoccupied, whereas the space around the bar was completely packed. You sat down at a small table in the furthest corner, that gave you a good view over the place and studied the drinks menu for a minute, before a lovely waitress came to take your order. She didn’t question if you waited for someone, which you were silently thankful for and asked for a glass of Gin and Tonic. One drink and you’d go home.

When she left to prepare it, you let your gaze wander from the people beside you, over to the bar, where a group of guys visibly blathered about some women next to them, making desperate attempts to flirt.  Another guy sat there alone, his head lowered, and stared into his empty glass. The shadow that wrapped around him, created by his sitting position, covered most of his face. ‘Fellow sufferer’, you thought, yet your eyes stuck to him, as his silhouette looked deeply familiar, but you didn’t know where to put him. Strands of his white-blond hair hung into his face and you could have sworn that you have seen this sharp facial features before he lifted his head and his eyes found yours. Piercing grey orbs looked over to you, while his brows copied your own and rose in surprise.

Draco Malfoy. Alone, in a bar. In a muggle bar to be precise. What in Godric’s name was he doing here? The smirk his lips formed sent you straight back into school days, where he managed to get everything he wanted, with exactly that grin. You had been friends back then. Well, in your first few years at least, until Pansy Parkinson decided to spend each second of her time running after him and keeping every female as far away as she could. The rumours that spread about him joining the Death Eaters, were what finally made you depart completely.

You watched him, as he turned over and waved towards the waitress, who quickly walked up to him. He talked to her and looked back to you for a second, before she turned around to take a glance as well, then nodded to him. When she returned, she handed him two glasses, filled with clear liquid, ice and a slice of lemon, which he took before he stood up from his stool and started to head your way. He looked stunning, as he walked across the floor, taking confident steps, yet elegant, almost as if he floated. He had definitely matured in the few years you hadn’t seen him and it benefited his looks even more. His shoulders have gotten a bit broader, posture looked more healthy and his three-day stubble suited him exceptionally well.

“Hello (Y/N). Didn’t expect to see you here”, he said, as he stood next to the free chair of your table, his voice a tone deeper than you remembered it to be.

“I could say the same about you, Draco”, you replied and shot him a knowing grin.

He chuckled before he went on: “Do you mind if I sit with you, or are you waiting for someone?”

“Take a seat please, I’m... not waiting”, you said, your last words turning into a whisper.

He placed the glasses at the centre of the table, pulled out the chair and sat down. “I asked the waitress to make me the same thing you’ve ordered, so I hope it tastes good. Gin Tonic, isn’t it?”

“It is. You never had one before?”

“No, I recently discovered my passion for scotch, so that’s what I’ve been sticking with”, he said and placed one of the drinks in front of you, holding up his own and tilted it your way. “Cheers to the good old days, then?”

“Drop the ‘good’ and I’m in”, you answered in an attempt to be witty, but both of you frowned slightly, remembering the war that happened in your last school year. “Cheers”, you mumbled, clinked your glass with his, took a big sip and went on talking, trying to brighten the mood again: “So, what brings Draco Malfoy to a muggle bar in London?”

He grinned and ran his fingertip along the rim of his glass, as he answered: “That’s a long story actually. Let’s just say, I may have changed some of my ways, since school. How about you? What are you doing here?”

“I moved here a week ago, for my job at the Ministry.”

“Oh, I see. Sounds great! And why did you come to a bar alone?”

“Why are you here alone?”

“I asked first.” His daring grin appeared once again.

“Well, I may or may not have been asked to meet someone here.”

“And?”

“And he dumped me ten minutes ago. Via text. Text is a-”

“I know what a text is, (Y/N)”, he laughed and pulled out his phone from his jacket. “They’re really more convenient than owls.”

You couldn’t hide the surprised look on your face. He really had changed since school. “I can’t believe that’s actually you”, you giggled. “Now that I told you my embarrassing story, let me hear your reason for being here on your own.”

He took a sip, looked at his glass while tasting the drink and nodded approvingly, telling you he liked it, non-verbally. “I’m living down the street and don’t want to spend my weekends at home, so I discovered London’s nightlife for a while.” Of course, he lived in the city centre. The Malfoys were still wealthy after all.

“You’re discovering the nightlife alone?”, you asked.

“Well, yes. I thought the only way to meet new people is going out for a bit. And as we see, my plan worked out”, he said and tilted his head your way, before drinking again.

“I’m not new though”, you snickered.

“True, but you’re one of the few people from school, I actually enjoy meeting.”

“Why is that?”

“Most of them didn’t really grow up, you know? Still hold grudges against entire families and so on.”

“So you’re not with Pansy anymore?”, you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible about it, but you knew he could sense your curiosity, as the left corner of his mouth shot upwards.

“No, we broke up a while ago. How about you?”

“Well, I only got to know this guy I would meet here some days ago, but he kind of ‘broke up’ with me, moments before our first date”, you told him and rolled your eyes at the thought of it.

“Entirely his loss, then. And my luck”, he sneered and drank the rest of his drink in one sip. “Another round on lost love?”

You snorted while downing yours and replied: “Sure, why not?”

You kept on talking for what felt like minutes, about everything and anything that happened in the years you didn’t see each other, ordering one drink after another. Your topics went from school stories, over teachers up to your current lives and your tongue loosened more with each sip. At some point, you even had the guts to tell him, that your current job was ‘nothing but a shitload of fucking desk work’, as you called it and he tried to make you feel better, by telling you he didn’t even have a job. You knew didn’t need one, but let him take part in your misery and enjoyed making fun of each other’s ‘pitiful’ lives.

It was past 4 a.m. when the waitress came over to tell you, they would close soon. You insisted to split the bill, but Draco waved you off and paid for each drink both of you have had.

When you stood up, you recognized how dazed you really were. It wasn’t that bad, but you were certainly too tipsy to disapparate home.  Draco held the door for you to exit and followed you outside, where people were still straying around, looking for another pub to stumble into.

You turned to him, trying not to stagger and said: “I’m taking a taxi home. Thanks for the nice eve-”

“No!”, he interrupted you and bit his tongue the second after he did so. “I mean, you could come with me if you want. Home.” He saw your flustered expression and went on: “Not like that. Just to talk some more. I feel like we still have a lot to catch up on.”

The noise that was intended to be a giggle, came out of you as a grunt and you asked: “Are you trying to seduce me, Malfoy?”

“I’m trying to be a gentleman here, but you’re not making this easy for me”, he chuckled.

“Fine, let’s go my gentleman”, you chimed and linked your arm with his, not only to emphasize your statement but to keep more balanced as well and you weren’t sure if the tickling feeling in your stomach was the Gin or tiny butterflies.

The two of you walked for about five minutes, you follow his lead and kept on talking about Draco’s attempts to get into professional Quidditch, which have been unsuccessful yet. None of England’s pro teams contacted him, except for the Appleby Arrows, who offered him to practice as their reserve Seeker, which he declined. He seemed to be slightly embarrassed about it, so you didn’t ask any further before he pointed to a tall building you approached and went to open the heavy gate of the ground floor.

You went in after him and took the elevator upstairs, to the top floor. ‘Penthouse. How typical’, you thought and grinned, swearing yourself, you would never let him see your bad excuse for a flat. When you arrived at the highest storey, the lift opened and Draco walked towards the only door in the hallway to unlock it. His movements stretched the fabric of his jacket between his shoulder blades and showed off his muscular torso, making you want to touch him.

Your hand was faster than your thoughts and landed on his back softly before you were able to comprehend what you just did. He turned his head your way, as he opened the door and sent you a questioning grin. “What are you doing?”, he asked in a chuckle.

“Sorry, I’m drunk”, you mumbled, but went a step closer, in contrast to your statement.

“You are”, he said and brought his hand up to your face, to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Draco took your hand, to lead you inside, but you leaned into his touch and pressed your body to his before he lowered his head a tiny bit and kissed you.

It started slow when he pulled you in, your lips brushing over his softly, but turned deeper and more eager very quickly, as you felt your hunger for him emerging, more prominently each second.

The door shut behind you, he pulled his head back, his pale lips now tinted pink and breathed with a smile: “You’re drunk.” He said it like he meant it, yet his hand cupped your cheek and his lips touched yours again.

You nodded as your kiss continued, his tongue now stroking teasingly over your own. Your moves happened without prior discussion, you held on to his shoulders, jumped and Draco picked you up, your legs wrapped around his hips and he started walking, while you nestled your face to his neck, closed your eyes and giggled quietly to the soft vibrations his steps sent.

When he stopped, you lifted your head to see that he brought you to his bedroom. “You’re drunk”, you chuckled and kissed him once again.

He nodded this time, went towards his bed, where he let you down on. Your heads parted for a moment, his hooded eyes traced every inch of your face, mouth slightly agape before your restless lips collided once more.

“We’re drunk”, you mumbled as you gasped for air, yet you pulled the collar of his shirt down, to get him even closer.

“We are”, he sighed as he let himself fall to his side and held your hand to prevent you from further yanking his clothes. “Should we stop?”

You watched his chest rising and lowering at a swift pace, rolled over to lie on your side as well, to face him and agreed: “We probably should.”

He ran his fingers through your hair, which sent a string of shivers down your body, and nodded endorsing before he kissed your forehead.

“Draco?”, you asked, snuggling into his chest.

“Yes?”

“I think I’m too dizzy to leave. I’ll disapparate home when I’m sober, okay?”

“Okay. Or, you know... You stay for a little longer.”

“Okay.”

Hope you liked it, please tell me if you did, or didn’t. As always, thank you for reading. xoxo

Permanent tags: @geeksareunique @little-hufflepuff-badger @marauderskeeper @giggleberts @way-obsessed5 @oreofrappiewithblueberry @draqcnheartstrinq @hpwritersnet

[autumnsart22]

Suna x reader: Final part (fluff)

Here’s the final part to my Suna x reader series! I wasn’t fully satisfied with this version, so I decided to make a *ahem* rougher version as well. If you’re interesting, click here. 

Art creds: @youneedasahi on twitter! 🤪

Despite Kita seeing you that day in the car, Suna still asked to keep whatever was between you a secret. That was fine with you--you didn’t particularly want a boyfriend, especially with the second semester of college work picking up. You still got to see him pretty often, hooking up in his car or your dorm at least three nights a week or more. Never the frat house; apparently his roommates were annoying. 

It was nice. Easy. Far easier than you ever expected friends with benefits to be. And beyond the sex, you loved talking to Suna; laying together on your tiny bed, legs tangled, while he explained the new music he was listening to, or walking together to the cafeteria as he made you laugh so hard that water came out of your nose. 

The good parts were enough to overlook the bad parts. At first. 

Suna was an abnormally horrific texter, barely ever responding within the day, if at all. If you ever wanted to get in contact with him, you’d have to call directly. And honestly even then he didn’t have the best track record. 

What was more frustrating was that it was always on his time. He would text you asking to hang out that night, and you would say yes, and then he wouldn’t respond until the following afternoon with some vague excuse about being busy. The first few times it happened, you got so mad that you didn’t respond to his calls, until he showed up at your dorm with panda express and forced you to watch Tokyo Ghoul with him. 

He had apologized...but it didn’t stop happening. It made you feel like you were some sort of side whore, who he called when he was bored and had nothing better to do. Like you were second best to everything else he had going on in his life. 

You had promised yourself from the beginning that you wouldn’t allow yourself to get close enough to get hurt, but it was hard. You really, really liked him. 

You liked the way he would stare at you while you talked, actually listening and curious as to what you had to say. You liked the way he hugged you after a few days of not seeing each other, burying his face in your hair like he couldn’t get close enough to you. You liked the way he laughed, both the usual, quiet chuckles and the rare snorting wheezes. You liked the way his mouth looked when he smoked, the way he moaned your name when he came, the way he could make you laugh at anything at any time. 

You didn’t want to get the “I told you so” talk from Kiyoko, so you avoided the topic all together: with her, and yourself. 

After one month of hanging out with Suna, you were planning on meeting up and going to see a movie. Both of you were more homebodies, preferring to stay in rather than party, but you had decided that you wanted to try and expand your horizons once again. The movies seemed like a happy compromise. 

The film was something Suna had been talking about for a while, an action thriller that honestly looked like shit but got good audience reviews because of all the flashy fight scenes. He had been so excited when it came out that you hadn’t been able to say no to going, especially not after he pried you with food. 

He was coming to get you at 6 pm, and your last class ended at 3pm, which gave you plenty of time to get ready. You stared at the face of your teacher on the screen within your zoom class, zoning out as he explained the flood system around the school. You glanced over as your phone buzzed, a message from Suna popping up on the screen. 

Suna

Wha u doying rit now?

You

What?

Suna

Sorr little drynk 

You

You’re drunk? 

Suna

im at psrty

You

Are we still seeing a movie tonight?

There was no response, and you felt your stomach drop. You didn’t even notice as your teacher ended class and logged you off the meeting. Suna was at a party at 3 in the afternoon, drunk, and didn’t seem to remember you had plans. You swallowed, shoving your phone aside as you ground your teeth. Why was he so frustrating? 

You stood up, angry at yourself for caring, furious at Suna for making you feel this way, for being such a piece of shit. You knew what party he was probably at--Kiyoko had said she was going at some point--and suddenly you were moving before you could think about it. 

You dressed nice, but casual enough that it wasn’t out of place at a frat party. Sexy enough to make him want you though, of course. 

You didn’t give yourself time for nerves as you strode from your dorm and headed in the direction of the frat house, following a steady stream of people already going in that direction. You knew it was Friday, but how the fuck were so many people already getting ready to party when it was literally 3:30????

It wasn’t overly crowded in the house when you entered, but enough where it was confusing as you wandered through the crowd. You snatched two drinks from the counter, downing them as fast as possible as you searched for Suna in the crowd. You’d need to be at least tipsy before having this confrontation. 

You found him in the living room, sprawled out on the couch next to who you recognized to be Akaashi, Kuroo, Kita, and Iwaizumi--all who you knew through Kiyoko. There were a few others you didn’t know, and they were all clearly drunk out of their minds. 

As you entered the room, Suna met your eyes for a brief moment, but then they moved on without a reaction. He didn’t care at all that you had come to find him, or that he had never responded to your text. 

The drink in your hand trembled, and you walked out of the room without looking back. 

Instead of talking to Suna, you decided to get wasted. An hour after first coming to the party, you were deep in a game of beer pong and you had a pleasant warmth in your gut, the world a little hazy. You felt braver, more angry, and suddenly all you wanted to do was track down that yellow eyed idiot and slap him. 

“Where’s Suna?” You slurred, turning to look at your partner at beer pong. You knew him vaguely as one of the frat boys, Suna’s friend Atsumu. 

Atsumu grinned, raising his eyebrows as he stared down at you. “Suna? Why?” 

You weren’t drunk enough to tell him of your “friendship” with Suna, so you just shrugged. 

“He’s over there,” Atsumu pointed towards the kitchen, and you felt all the blood drain from your face as you followed his gaze. Sitting in a chair, his back to you, was Suna...and on his lap was a beautiful blonde girl with her hands in his hair as she kissed him fiercely. 

You must have made some sort of sound, because Atsuma looked back at you. “You good?” 

You forced yourself to nod. “I’m...going to get some fresh air.” 

“I’ll come,” he said, and you decided not to argue. 

The porch was thankfully empty, and you took a deep breath of the night breeze, trying to clear your head. Seeing Suna had sobered you up considerably, but your emotions were still a complete mess. All you could feel was a deep, unending hurt. 

“So...you and Suna huh?” You looked up at Atsumu, who had a strange smile on his face. 

“What are you--?” 

“It’s fine, you don’t have to keep it a secret.” He took a step towards you, and you raised your eyebrows. 

“We aren’t together.” 

“Really? Then you wouldn’t mind,” He gently took your chin, lifting your face. “If I did this?” 

“I--” 

“What the fuck.” 

All the breath wooshed out of you at the familiar voice, which was now laced with anger. Suna stood on the threshold of the porch, his hands in his pockets as he watched you and Atsumu. He was smiling, but it was icy with rage and...jealousy?

“Suna,” Atsumu grinned, releasing your face but not stepping back. “What do you want?” 

Suna jerked his chin in your direction. “How about you get away from her, and then we’ll talk?”

“Dude,” Atsumu rolled his eyes. “She just told me she was single. I don’t get what the problem is.” 

Suna’s face tightened. “If you don’t get the fuck out of here in the next three seconds, I swear I will break your--”

“Chill, ok!” Atsumu stepped back from you, given you a frustrated look before heading into the house. 

When the door clicked shut, Suna’s head slowly turned to face you, his eyes dark. “Single?” His voice was a low snarl. 

You swallowed, feeling your anger return full force. How dare he. “Yes!” You snapped, “Since you clearly don’t view this as any sort of relationship.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“So you can go off kissing other girls, but I can’t flirt with Atsumu?” 

“Looked like a bit more than flirting,” he said, teeth bared, before the other part of what you said caught up to him. “And how drunk are you? I wasn’t kissing shit!” 

“Are you seriously lying to my face right now? I saw you!” 

“I didn’t kiss anyone! Do you really think that little of me?”

You clenched your fists. “Atsumu said--” 

Suna was in your face in a second, towering over you as he backed you against the wall. “What did he say?” He growled. 

You were breathing hard, wanting to punch Suna, but… he didn’t seem like he was lying. The person you had thought was Suna did have their back to you, and you had been drunk. Had you made a mistake? Even if you had though, it didn’t excuse any of his other behavior. 

“Why didn’t you answer my texts?” You finally snapped, and Suna gave a cold smirk. 

“Trying to change the subject?” 

“No, you bastard! I’m trying to figure out why you seem to be so upset when all you do is treat me like your side bitch!” 

His mouth fell open. “What?”

You could feel your throat getting tight, but you did not want to cry. 

“You never respond to my texts, you’re always cancelling plans with me to do other things, you act like you don’t know me in public, and you only seem interesting in having sex with me.” By the end, your voice cracked with a sob, and you turned your face away. 

Suna’s face was pale, his eyes wide as he stared at your hurt expression. “I didn’t…” His breath shuddered out, and he ran his hand roughly through his hair. “That isn’t what I think of you at all.” 

“Then…” you still wouldn’t look at him, and he wanted to punch himself. 

“Look, I’m terrible at being in relationships. I always feel like they lose interest, so I break it off early on. I just...I don’t want that to happen with you.” 

“How does you being a piece of shit help?” 

“Y/n,” Suna gripped your face in his hands, his eyes desperate. “I want to be with you all the time. I think about you constantly, what you’re doing, how soon I can see you again. It drives me crazy how much I--” He stopped, clenching his jaw. “I don’t want to overwhelm you, or pressure you into anything. I thought that by keeping it relaxed, you would…” He trailed off again, and all you could feel was your heart racing. 

“Then why do you always act so...uninterested?” You finally whispered, voice trembling. 

“Do you mean around my friends?” 

After a moment, you nodded. It was only really around them that he gave you the cold shoulder. 

“They’re all assholes, and I don’t want you to get involved with them. The second they think I love you, they’ll try and see why. To hurt me through you.” 

Your mouth fell open and I suddenly couldn’t think past one word. “L-love-?”

Suna’s eyes went wide, and he tried to step back. “I…fuck...” 

You gripped his shirt, forcing him to stay where he was. “Do you?” 

He paused, his face so red you thought he might pass out. “Yes.” He cleared his throat and met your eyes. “I’m in love with you.” 

He shifted nervously, waiting for your reaction, and you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. You stood on your tip toes and kissed him, arms going around his neck. He sighed into your mouth, grabbing your waist and tongue sliding along the seam of your lips, prompting you to open your mouth. After a long moment, you pulled away. 

“I love you,” You whispered to him, and Suna pressed himself against you, groaning into your mouth. 

“Really?” 

“Mhm.” You tugged away from him, meeting his eyes. “But will you try to respond to my texts? Not cancel plans? I need to know that you won’t just...ditch at a moment’s notice.” 

He nodded, expression seriously. “I’ll do anything to keep you here with me.” 

He kissed you on the nose, and you smiled.

“Ok.”

[redditnosleep]

O is for Olivia

by OnyxOctopus

It wasn’t even snowing when I left for work but by the time I was halfway there, the roads were coated in ice. People were sliding around like real-life bumper cars and there were accidents blocking every path to the office. With all roads blocked, I decided to just give up and turn for home.

I was being cautious, creeping along in my little Echo at about 15 miles per hour. Down the road a stretch, I spotted a Toyota truck coming towards me around a curve, fast. He had to be going at least 70 miles per hour. He seemed, at first, to be flying by on my left. Then, he was sliding sideways in a long, silver smear.

It’s true that time slows down when you are about to die. I saw the clock click from 7:25 to 7:26. I looked at my hands, noticing every vein, every line. Heard the words of the Imogen Heap song I was listening to, “Where are we? What the hell is going on?“ I thought, “I can get out of this.” Looked right: cement utility pole, ditch, looked left: silver pickup truck. I thought, “I really can’t get out of this.“ I saw particles of dust seeming to glow, suspended, in the air.

Then there was crunching and spinning and glass and spinning and pain and then - suddenly darkness.

I was alone in the darkness for a while, and then I wasn’t alone. Darkness, heavy but awake, consuming me. I somehow was the darkness, and yet I was still very much myself. Or, I should say, I recognized myself in the darkness. Then I heard a rush of whispers and long low whistles. As the sounds grew louder, waves became particles and two forms started to appear. Mine, and hers. A shifting, swirling woman was standing in front of me. Like blowing smoke into a sunbeam that’s coming through a gap in the curtains. Smoke all around, but only seen as it swirls through the sunbeam. She was like that. I could see that she had shoulder length brown hair, and she was wearing a light blue shirt and white pants. She appeared to be rather tall, but not as tall as me. I was watching her patterns shift and swirl when she spoke.

“Olivia?”

“I’m…I…yes, I… Who are you?” Not too eloquent, but that’s what I said.

“You can think of me as Mora.“ I could hear her, even though her mouth wasn’t making noise when she spoke.

“How…?” I gestured around us at the endless, swirling black.

“Everything is happening at once. All at once, right now. The leading edge is the same as the very end of the line,” she answered. The more she spoke, the more she seemed to be slowly unraveling.

“I don’t know what that means.“

“That’s ok.”

“But, I mean, what’s going on?“ I was getting dizzy trying to focus on her as she shifted in and out of form. It was making me impatient.

“The universe itself is afraid of its own end. Consciousness in form is the universe’s way of awakening to its own immortality. In the silence of the void, there is a voice. The voice listening to itself. The voice realizing it IS the void, and the void is alive. There is circle after circle of understanding. Do you understand?”

“No.“

“That’s ok.”

I waited for her to say something else, but she was silent. She was evaporating into a horizontal mist. Looking down I saw that I was starting to do the same.

“Why are you telling me these things?“ I asked, distracted again by the swirling particles.

“Because we need you. So I need you to wake up.”

As soon as she said, “wake up,” I felt myself being pulled like a yo-yo on a string. Snapping backwards in the darkness. I watched my own particles blowing away from me like dust. Leaving a mist trail in what appeared to be a long, dark tunnel. Then the darkness shifted to the familiar darkness that lives behind my eyes. I felt my body, my real solid body, and then I felt the pain. Next, I noticed I was suffocating. Warm, humid, air was breathing itself for me through a respirator. I must have started to flail around in my panic because I was given a shot and then I fell asleep.

When I woke up again, the doctor told me I lost consciousness after impact. I was rushed to surgery for internal injuries. Apparently I ‘died’ on the operating table. They “shocked me back” and put me on life support. The accident broke my sternum, three ribs, my right knee, and resulted in severe closed head trauma. Because of my internal injuries, they had to remove a nice chunk of bowel. I mimed, “I want to write", by using a finger to scribble over the opposite palm. The doctor pulled a pad and pen out of his pocket and handed it to me. His eyes were a dusty shade of blue, the color of cornflowers.

“When can I go back to work"? I wrote.

“That’s tricky", he said. “We’ve left you with essentially what we’d call short gut syndrome which can result in intermittent incontinence. Head injuries such as yours often result in severe migraines. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves though. You’re going to get stronger every day, I promise. Let’s get you off this respirator and take it one step a time. Sound good?” No. It did not sound good. With no family of my own, my job was my life. Still, I nodded. What else was there to do?

I was on the respirator for two more warm, wet, and suffocating days, then I was moved to the room that would be my home for the next seven weeks.

A few days after moving to the new room, I was lying on my bed, feeling loopy from the morphine drip and thinking about drinking orange juice. The cup was just out of reach on my bedside table. I remember feeling a wave of injustice and anger come over me. Not about the accident, or my injuries, or being stuck in a hospital unable to work, possibly forever. No. I was angry about not being able to reach the orange juice. I was fucking furious at the orange juice. I was glaring at it, with everything I had, and then- BOOM! It exploded. Orange juice flying absolutely everywhere.

That was the first time I used my mind to blow something up. Honestly, it was exhilarating. I spent the next seven weeks popping gauze pads, glycerin swabs, any little thing that wouldn’t make too much of a mess.

The first person I looked up after I got out of the hospital was the driver of the silver Toyota. He was picked up for felony reckless driving, but let go on a technicality. I did some digging. I was a paralegal before my injuries forced me to take long-term disability so I knew my way around court documents. It also didn’t hurt that I was good friends with a few of the clerks at court. It turns out I wasn’t the first person he’d seriously hurt. His connections just kept finding him loopholes to skip through.

I decided I should find him in person. Maybe this guy just looked bad on paper? Maybe he’d apologize? I was hoping for any redeeming quality. Nope. When I told him who I was he laughed and said, “were you this ugly before I hit you?” Then, he dropped to the floor, holding his head and screaming. He got what he deserved, a Subarachnoid Hemorrhage from an aneurysm exploding in his brain. Nasty things, those. So sad.

Three days later, I let myself into my apartment only to find a man sitting at my dining room table. He was wearing an expensive looking suit and smoking a cigarette. He had obviously been there a while because smoke was swirling around him in a thick haze. I suppose I should have been shocked or terrified. The truth is I was expecting it.

“Can I help you?”

He looked up from a mess of open folders and said, “Olivia, come here, I need you to take a look at this.”

I blinked, hard, and then I walked over to the table.

“Can I ask your name?”

“Mr. W. Olivia, take a look at these pictures.” I looked over his shoulder at four open folders with pictures splayed out in piles. I can’t, no, I won’t, tell you what I saw the people in those pictures doing. Imagine for a moment the worst abuse to the most innocent of victims, and you might have a pretty good idea.

“Olivia, What I have here is a four-way split video call. You’ll see that our agents have these four suspects in custody. Can you positively match the person on each screen to the pictures on the table in front of you?”

I looked from the pictures to the screens one at a time. Carefully. There were three men and one woman. Each of the agents was wearing the same blue shirt and white pants Mora had worn.

“Yes.”

I haven’t mentioned my childhood, and I won’t go into detail about it. What I will say is that the woman on the screen bore a striking resemblance to my mother’s best friend, Marie. Same red hair, freckles, green eyes. Marie hurt me, just like the woman on the screen had hurt the child in the pictures spread across her file. The child who bore a striking resemblance to me: blonde hair, brown eyes, freckles.

“Ok, Olivia. Please understand that these people have not been convicted of any crime. In fact, they aren’t being tried. These pictures were obtained illegally so they are not admissible in court. They are innocent until proven guilty. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

I looked back at the monitor and watched as each of them fell like marionettes being cut from their strings. One after the other, until all four were lying on the floor clutching their heads, screaming.

Mr. W looked up at me, his eyes squinting in a genuine smile. “Welcome to Moirai, Olivia. We are so happy to have you.“

That was seven years ago. I’m 33 now, and I’m getting better every day. More precise. I’ve been practicing. Mr. W tells me that they will be needing me more than ever in the days to come. I’d ask you to wish me luck, but I don’t need it. I have been getting stronger every day.

I’m strong enough now.

[citrusrei]

Synthesize Me.

Reader x Taehyung Robot!AU Summary: When the CEO of Lovecraft Robotics assigns you the job of creating the ‘Perfect’ boyfriend, will it just be another project? Or will something deeper blossom? Genre: Fluff, Gets kinda hot n heavy in dis, ANGST (of course), future smut Word Count: 7.3k

Part 1 of ?

AN: You guys, it’s been so long but I am back and bettah than evah with another series lol. It’s probably not going to be tooooo long, like maybe 5 parts or so? My original plan was to make it one whole long one but decided with this in the end. I hope you all enjoy it! <3 tae has been fucking me up so haslkdjlaksl I got a lot planned for this character lol (also the paragraphs that are italicized are a flashback!)

       "Ah," you yawned, bringing the back of one hand to your mouth as the other clicked furiously away at the keyboard in front of you, "Nearly. Finished."

The project you'd been assigned a bit more than a month ago was almost complete and you didn't know if you were excited or terrified. Maybe a bit of both?  

The code you were currently typing was merely a test run, in all honesty. Once it was finished, you could boot up the subject and correct any flaws or errors that it had. Which, you didn't mind if it did because at least you'd finally be able to see the being you'd been creating for the past 4 weeks. Working on its genetic makeup, the perfect emotional control, the impeccable AI that learned as quickly as the blink of an eye and after researching numerous polls and statistics of how people enjoyed their men, not only on appearance but personality as well, you'd typed up the ultimate boyfriend. Its coding was right here in front of you on the black computer screen lettered in green, blocky font. With the tap of just a few more buttons, the final enter was pressed, and then it was complete; well, not completely complete.  

The perfect code for the perfect boyfriend? Why would anyone need that? Well, the company you worked for; Lovecraft Robotics, was known for this kind of thing. It's a lonely world out there, isn't it? And everyone is deserving of love, but when you can't find it in the flesh; artificial is the next best thing!

Your company was known for its Perfect girlfriend models, the newest one released last year had won numerous awards and was praised beyond recognition. So, it was the people who preferred men's turn! Lovecraft Robotics was to unveil its new, sexy, steamy, Perfect boyfriend. Emphasis on perfect. Capable of learning from its mistakes, saying "I love you" at the perfect moments, and not to mention it's undeniable and insatiable lust for pleasing you oh so right!  

You, being the mastermind behind one of last year's model's biggest weapons, the CEO of the company was quick to assign you as Chief Coder and in charge of the whole Perfect Boyfriend branch. You'd be working hands on, in completing the world's first Artificial Boyfriend and the public would be ecstatic when it was announced.

At first, you were a mess. It was such a big deal, and such a massive assignment that you thought there was no way you could do it by yourself. Yes, by yourself. It was a hush-hush situation for the most part, only your co-workers in the robotics lab knowing, some even lending some insight on what to add and what no to add. So, for the past 4 weeks, it was your life. You'd wake up, head to the lab, stay late into the night, go home and sleep, repeat. It was your schedule and you accepted it. But now, it was done. At least for now. It was the first test, the prototype. In beta, you could say. You knew there'd be things to tweak, but the hardest part was done and you decided were terrified. Scratch the excitement.  

As the cloning machine took the data from the bulky computer before you, scanning its contents onto the mechanic model, dread filled your stomach. This was your first time doing this by yourself... this whole bringing a robot to life thing. It could very well go terribly wrong. The subject could go haywire and completely off rail and just destroy you and everything and everyone in the lab!

With a quick look at the bar on the screen in front of you, indicating its completion, you swallowed any doubt or paranoia lurking in you, and reminded yourself that you are a smart, and capable scientist! If anything, the model would malfunction and just not work. You didn't put any aggressiveness in its code and you didn't plan on teaching him any either, so it'd be okay, right?

The completion bar was almost at max. Suddenly, you swung your black chair around, facing the machine and waited just a few more seconds before a small 'ting' sounded off in the air. Your heart dropped into your gut as you waited for the cold, metal doors to swing open, revealing your masterpiece.  

Not before long, a mechanic purr was heard and smoke swept from the cracks, blocking your view. The thick smog filled your lungs, causing you to gag and cough into your closed fist. You almost forgot just what you were waiting for until it spoke.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

Your eyes shot open, straight forward to the man that was standing before you and finally you could breathe again. It was like a fresh, spring day had been simulated in the room. Your lungs clear of any smoke, your muscles unclenched and a sigh of relief escaped your mouth. He was truly, perfect.

The subject had sandy, dark blonde hair, a bit too long as it was nearly covering his cacao eyes. You made a mental note to tweak that just slightly. His facial features were beyond remarkable. So broad, and chiseled and symmetric. It was almost too good but then you noticed the small mole on his tall nose and it gave you a sense of quirkiness, which is what you had in mind as you typed the little detail into his genetics folder. His lips were the prettiest shade of dusty rose and the ideal shape for his face, which was also impeccable. He had a jawline sharp enough to cut diamonds. From there, your eyes traveled further down, appreciating the slope of his collarbones to the about of fitness his torso held. And that was also when you realized that he was stark naked.  

You looked away as a ruby red blush inked across the entirety of your face but still definitely noticed just how well-endowed he was as well. You had really outdone yourself. You deserved a pat on the back.

He moved forward a few steps, watching you curiously and you knew he was already learning; studying your reactions and body language as he scanned his vaults for the appropriate response.

"You're very red in the cheeks. Are you sick? Do you have a fever?" He pressed further, his neck craning as he looked at you from a different angle.

You shook your head hesitantly, muttering a quick 'no' before shuffling across the room to grab him some clothes. Just a simple white shirt with grey sweats. You tossed them to him, to which he clumsily grabbed, still trying to make sense of how to use his limbs and such.

"Put those on, please. You have to wear clothes for the most part."

He nodded quickly, shoving each leg forcefully through the leg holes and slipping the tee on in a breeze. Once he was finished with that, he looked upon you for guidance as to what to do next.  

"Oh right, um... here," You said, handing him a booklet of rules and such that he needs to abide by, "Read this, and then tell me when you're finished."

He scanned it quickly and was done before you even sat down. "Okay, what's next?"

You turned around with wide eyes, mentally scolding yourself for thinking he'd take longer than a good 5 minutes. After all you were his creator, you knew him better than he knew himself.

Eager to learn, he was. But you found it somewhat endearing. He'd only been out of the machine for less than 3 minutes and you'd already fallen for him. He was definitely a keeper.  

"Well, what do you feel like doing?" You asked him, sitting idly next to him on the long couch in your lab.

"Hm," He pondered, his eyes blinking slowly as his head cocked to the side, "I think I want to... lie down?"

"Then lie down. You should be able to do what you want like that. If you feel tired, then take a rest."

He looked at you, muttering something under his breath and then his eyes turned hard.

"Anything I want to do? I can... kiss you then?" He leaned in swiftly and thankfully your usually slow reflexes kicked in almost immediately.

"No!" You yelled, putting your arms up defensively, "you uh, you can't kiss me. I'm not the one you need to seduce."

"Oh." Was all he said as he backed up, returning to his straight-postured sitting position.

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and released your tight fists.

He was kind of an airhead, wasn't he? Maybe you'd missed something in his coding because you could have sworn you'd put in a bit more intelligence. Women like a smart man.

"Wait here," You spoke, raising yourself from the couch as the bot watched you saunter back to your desk, "OH, also. Think of a name for yourself. Something you think you'd like, okay?" You called back.

After a few tweaks to minor issues in his genetics and what not, he seemed up and running and well aware of everything. He was bright, a little too bright. He was curious, also a little too much. He was funny, oh boy, was he funny. It seemed like he thought his mission in life was to make you smile. Which you didn't mind at all, it was like it was too long since the last time you had a good laugh.

The day passed and suddenly it was nearly time for you to head home for the night, leaving you with hopes nothing crazy would happen to the bot over the 8 hours you were gone.  

"So, what am I going to do when you're gone?" He asked.  

You swung around in your black, leather chair to look up to him. His gaze was heavy and maybe you were just imagining it but seemed a bit sad. You almost didn't want to leave.

"Hm, well I was just going to shut you down for tonight." You began. His eyes bulged open, clearly not liking the idea of being offline.

"But, I think I can allow you to do some studying while I'm away. It's only for a few hours, but you have to promise me to stay in this room, okay?"  

The man nodded smiling down to you, flashing his unique rectangular grin and you mimicked him right back.

"I'll give you this laptop for tonight," You breathed, reaching into your black work bag and handing the electronic to him, "Just look up what you deem fit. Nothing violent, nothing scary and nothing too weird okay?"  

You laughed because you knew being on the internet it was kind of impossible to avoid, but he took it as a genuine command and agreed wholeheartedly. Was he about to learn tonight. You weren't concerned, however. You'd thrown in a 'knowing right from wrong' option in his folder a bit earlier today. Trial and error, you reminded yourself.

He shuffled back to the cream couch in the corner and began clicking away. Of course, he'd know what to do as soon as his flipped the screen open. His AI was top class. You made a mental note of toning it down tomorrow though. Even though you work hands on in a robotics factory, dealing with AI and everything, you thoroughly believed in that scientist who said to be careful with it. The market for robots were on the rise and it wasn't going to slow down anytime soon. Especially, with a man like this coming to hit the shelves.

"Oh, that reminds me," You spoke as you wrapped your wine-colored scarf around your neck, "Did you decide on a name?"

The man sat in silence for a second before looking to you, "Yes, I've thought a bit. How about Renaldo? It's rather regal, in my opinion."

Your face scrunched together, which made him laugh. He'd noticed your displeasure and decided to throw out a few uglier ones such as Gerald, Linus and even Beethoven von Beethoven. Whatever the hell that was. But finally, he settled on something simple and something that suited him completely.  

"Taehyung. I like that one. I'd decided on it since you asked me this morning." He quipped.  

Taehyung. You repeated it in your head probably a million times. The flow of it was like water, trickling down a summer creek and felt as right as the sun coming up in the morning to the moon making its home in the sky at night.

"Hmm," you mused, "I like it. Very much so."  

Your soft grin was wiped from your face as the ping of your cellphone chimed, bringing you back from the clouds. You pulled it out of your lab coat, and as the screen lit up, you saw it was a text from your fiancé. Yes, fiancé. You were engaged to a man you'd been with for nearly 5 years. A man who knew little of what you were doing at work, and you planned on keeping it that way. Not that you were doing anything bad, because you weren't. But, he'd definitely get jealous and be overdramatic and more than likely make you give up the project that'd been your baby so long. That was not about to happen.

"Who was it?" Taehyung piped, peaking from over the screen of the laptop.

"Huh? Oh, it was my fiancé." You hummed mindlessly, typing a quick response to him and shoving the small item back into your pocket.

The fast clicking from the laptops keys stopped abruptly, but only for a couple of seconds before they began to clack again.

"Oh, you have a fiancé? Why are you trying to create the perfect boyfriend then?"

"It's my job. Other ladies and men out there who like men need love too right? Especially if they can't find it naturally?"  

"Naturally?" He mimed back. His eyes dropping to his lap, looking as though you'd killed his puppy.

"Yes, naturally. Like, when the bars aren't just cutting it anymore or every date you go on fails. You turn to Lovecraft Robotics-"

"Like a last resort?" He interjected.

"Huh? No! I'd think of it as more of a saving grace. I mean, you guys are quite literally the perfect spouse."

"Well, not exactly. We can't get pregnant or get people pregnant. We don't actually feel things, we're merely programmed to say it. It's like we're an empty shell for some horny bastard out there looking for a sex slave or something."  

"A sex slave? Of course there are people out there like that. But I've heard many success stories from men and women who have fallen in love with their Perfect Girlfriends. Your AI is quite capable of learning emotions which in turn, you really do feel. I think you've already learned one." You smiled.

"Oh yeah, what?" He squirmed.

"Well, in my eyes, I see that you've already learned stubbornness. Most men are stubborn anyways, so don't worry about it. You're one step closer to becoming a truly perfect boyfriend."

He stayed quiet at that, even stopping his fast typing as he sat with thoughts buzzing around in his artificial mind.  

"I have a question." He said, removing the laptop from his lap and pulling his legs on to the couch to get a bit comfier.

"If I wasn't made for you, why was I made at all?"  

"Ah, you're barely a day old and you're already having existential thoughts?" You joked, but Taehyung did not seem to laugh.

"You were made as my first prototype for Lovecraft Robotics perfect boyfriend. You are going to be the basis of what the rest of your kind will be based on. They won't look like you, though. We have thousands of variations of models ready to be brought to life. Plus, we can even take requests from the higher payers out there on what they want their Perfect to look like. A literal dream man come to life."

"I'm your dream man?" He laughed.

In a way he was, you figured. You were the one to choose the traits you liked the best from the numerous lists you'd looked up before and it turned out to be a winning combo in your eyes. So, you decided he was your subconscious dream man.

"Well, no. Not really. I based you off of polls and such in terms of looks. You're handsome, don't get me wrong. But not my type, per say. You're rather tall. I like my guys a bit smaller... darker hair as well."

"So, your dream man is your fiancé then, I'm assuming?"  

"A-ah, well no not really either. Your dream man or woman doesn't have to be who you fall in love with."

Taehyung soaked in your words, never letting a single one drop as he absorbed them and stored it into a file deep in his circuits. He'd definitely remember that.

"Hmm... Well, maybe you should head home to him then," He smirked, "The lucky guy. Ah, I don't know whether to be jealous or angry. Maybe a bit of both?"

You smiled at his blatant flirting, knowing he'd have fallen for you. That was in his makeup, he was in fact supposed to fall in love with his owner. Of course, there was the clause in that allowed him and all other bots in the Perfect line to leave their human companions if it turned out they didn't like them or whatever the case. Even robots deserved that basic human right.  

It was rare though. Of all the bots you'd seen stories about, maybe only 3 or 4 out of 1000 had left. They were reassigned to new owners and found their happiness. If you were being honest with yourself, you secretly hoped Taehyung would never want to leave you. Even if your relationship was never romantic or sexual, having him around was something you really enjoyed. You'd only known him less than a day and you were sold. But you also pinned it on the fact that working in a lab by yourself all day could get quite lonely. The company was something you didn't even realized you missed.

"Well, don't pout all night. I'll come back to you in the morning. Don't stay up too late too. You still gotta sleep to charge! Remember," You pointed at Taehyung sternly, "Stay here. No wandering."

Taehyung squinted his eyes, waving you off with the flick of his wrist, "Yes, I know. Now go before you make your man mad. Unless, you'd like to stay here with me?"  

You blinked a few times before yelping a quick, "Nope!" And then you were out the door.

The brisk autumn air settled your mind on the short walk back to your shared apartment from the lab. This morning you were absolutely terrified of the unknown. Taehyung could have gone completely wrong in more ways than one, but for the most part, he was well, perfect. You were really impressed with your work on him and you wanted to do nothing more than to talk about it with everyone, especially your fiancé, Rowoon.  

He was always very positive about the work you did, speaking highly of it and even offering some advice and tips of the genetic build as he was a biologist. Of course, that was with the Perfect Girlfriend line though, so he didn't have much to be 'concerned' about. Even now, there was no reason for him to get jealous. You were in love with him and you were not the type to cheat even if it were with an artificial dick. You weren't going to fall in love with Taehyung or any other robot man so he shouldn't worry. You figured it'd be the best to keep it from him for now, though. Once it was announced and released, he'd find out and he'd be mad at first, but by then the two of you would be married so you'd basically have trapped him anyways. Like, what was he going to do, divorce you?

You laughed at your thought process, complimenting yourself on your own humor. You were sure people walking by might have thought you were crazy but that didn't bother you. Another one of your thoughts was 'How many people walking by right now are Artificial?'

Even though you'd been in the company for years, and been surrounded by them for just as long, it was near impossible to tell the difference. They were so lifelike from the features, to their mannerisms, and the most realistic of all- thanks to your genius brain; an artificial heart that coincides with their AI. It beats as a normal heart, but speeds up when they're around the one they love, or if they become upset. It even slows down as they're charging, just as a human's does when they're sleeping. So, with realistic skin and eyes, to a heartbeat. It was beyond difficult to tell who was real and who was, well, not.  

You didn't like that though. You hated calling the bots fake, because they weren't fake. They were here, physically and emotionally. It wasn't a hologram or an illusion. You saw them daily with your own eyes so how could they be fake? You understood what people meant when they didn't see them fit as real, however. They aren't real people because they were made in a lab, they have metal skeletons, they're incapable of feeling emotions. But that was quite the contrary.  

You were amazed with science and just how far it'd come in the past few years. We'd found ways to make them feel real and deep emotions. To shed tears when they're upset, or to laugh when they become overjoyed, even becoming aroused when stimulated. It was impressive, and you knew that if you didn't have Rowoon you'd be down for giving one a shot.  

So, when anyone slammed the idea of having an artificial lover, or friend; because not all bots were made to be just a significant other, you just laughed. There would always be people who were closedminded, and even though it was slightly upsetting, you weren't going to let it bother you.

Once inside your apartment, your nostrils were filled with the scent of your vanilla orange candle you'd burned just this morning. The heat from the radiator hugged your body as you shed off the heavy parka you'd worn outside. You called for your fiancé and were met with a hum from the kitchen, beckoning you to where he was.

"Hello there, love," Rowoon cooed, wrapping his arms around you as soon as he saw your frame enter the room, "how was work? You're home later than usual. Did you eat?"

His worrying made you feel bad. Him being a biologist made his hours different from yours and the only time the two of you had seen each other recently were in the mornings as he's just waking up and you're heading out the door and the evenings where you wouldn't get home until he was ready for bed, all cozied up in his pajamas. You had the weekends, but the next few months of training and tweaking Taehyung were going to eat those up. But, you figured if the two of you could last 5 years with one another, a few more rough months would be a cake walk!

"I'm sorry, dear... I got caught up at work and lost track of time. But it went well! Also, I ate a bit earlier so I'm not that hungry. Thank you for asking."

Rowoon grinned down at you, bending over slightly to peck your lips, "My little hard worker! Such an overachiever, I bet your colleagues are so envious of you." He sing-songed.

You almost cackled as it was quite the opposite. Nobody in your department wanted a job of that size, especially when it was to be done alone and in secret. Nobody in their right minds would want that. But it was apparent that you weren't in your right mind. You never regretted taking it and you didn't think you would ever come to regret it even within the next few months of testing and kinking out any errors. Even if Taehyung malfunctioned, which was very likely considering how early staged he was; you wouldn't regret it. You had that whole 'If you fail, try again' mindset. You had people to prove wrong and you weren't about to let them win.

When your CEO announced you as the person who'd take on the project, people were relieved. But just because they weren't the ones who had to do it. You were newer to the company and hadn't made much of a name for yourself besides that artificial heart feature, which everyone loved. But, you were still young, fresh out of college and despite your impressive resume and intelligence, the majority of your coworkers doubted you could handle something like this. They thought, if they couldn't manage something like that, then, how could you?  

Your friend in the office, Jinyi was the only one to cheer you on. She figured that if the CEO could choose you as someone to handle a large scaled project like this, then you were more than capable. Before the project, you worked with her on the company's Perfect Pet line. They had dogs, cats, fish and were now working on a line of rodents, which you thought was the oddest thing because who would want a robot pet when there are real ones out there that needed to be adopted and such, but, to each their own.  

"So, how's the coding going?" Jinyi asked, stuffing her mouth the leafy, green salad she'd been eating for lunch.  

"It's going okay. It's a lot more than I expected honestly. I mean, it's been 3 weeks and I'm here from 7:00am to 11:00pm every day and I'm only about 30% done." You sighed, gently flicking a limp piece of lettuce around your tray.

She nodded slightly, "Yeah. It's going to be like that. Do you have a deadline for the final product?"

"No, thankfully," You breathed, "My ideal deadline was 3 months. But, it might take a bit longer than that."

Jinyi knew where you were coming from. It was like she had some super power that made it so she was perfectly able to empathize with someone. She always knew what to say and when to say it and her advice was extremely solid. You'd go as far to say that she was more than just a work buddy, but maybe even a good friend, if not your closest.

"Well, I know you and I know you'll get it done flawlessly as usual. That's why CEO chose you, right? We're both rooting for you, so cheer up!" She grinned, flashing you her flawlessly pearly whites.

You smiled back, her words really cheering you up. She was the epitome of happy vitamin and you envied that. If you could be as optimistic as her, life would be a lot easier.

"Do you have a name for it yet?" She continued.

"Nope. I added something so that he can think of his own name. I think that's a lot nicer than naming it ourselves. It's unique. I just hope he won't pick a weird name like Reginald, or Archibald."

Jinyi let out a little squeak of a giggle as the mental image of the quite literal perfect man naming himself something of the likes of Archibald.  

"Well I hope not either. That'd be um, not good." She laughed.  

"Yeah. Well, I can't seem to find my appetite so I'm going to head back to the lab, okay? See you!" You waved her off as you sprinted back to lab. There was nothing more you wanted to then to finish it quickly and show everyone the capable scientist you were. But once you entered your laboratory, it looked like you'd have another obstacle to overcome.

Jihoon. Little, grumpy, Jihoon.  

He was your rival of sorts. You never considered him or anyone competition, but not because you thought you were the best, you just weren't petty enough to put yourself up against your coworkers.

As soon as the door opened, the small man in front of you jumped back, distancing himself from your computer with the coding screen pulled up.

"What are you doing?" You asked, slightly panicked because you weren't sure of the last time you'd saved and if he had deleted anything, who knows how long you'd be set back.

"O-Oh, nothing! I was just looking over your progress. The boss told me to." He lied. There was no way the CEO asked him to do it when he had stressed to you just how mum he wanted to keep the whole operation.  

"Mhm, now that you've looked it over, you can leave, right?" You didn't want to deal with Jihoon today. Not after your pity fest at lunch you were still recovering from.

"Well, n-not just yet! I need to run over the mechanics and quality of the machines you'll be using as well. Even though, from the looks of it, it'll be a while before you even use them." He sneered, his face twisting into the look of an ugly fox.

You winced at his comment, but you weren't going to let it bother you. You promised yourself that. Jihoon was the biggest mastermind behind the Perfect Girlfriend line, but had a team to work with unlike you. They could code and bang out bots within days, so of course this was something he'd throw in your face just to ruffle your feathers any way he could.

"Just check it over and leave. I have things to do."

"Yeah, a lot of things." He hummed under his breath, but you heard it anyways.

As he did a sweep of your lab, you returned to the computer, going over everything quickly to make sure he didn't touch anything or change anything. Thankfully, he didn't.

"Okay, it seems everything is in good shape. I'll show my way out then, ___," He chided, "Oh and B.T.W... if you want to make the boss happy, I'd suggest working a little faster. Maybe you should start sleeping here in the office?" But before you could retaliate, he was gone. You wanted to scream because he frustrated you so much. You couldn't believe so much hate could fill that little body of his.

In private, You and Jinyi called him the Little Devil. He was nasty, but he was smart, so it made him seem as if he were just trying to help, but his silver tongue was always present.

Anyways, you had better things to do than dwell. Your reputation was on the line, and you weren't going to let that crumble. Especially to some demon man. You wanted so show him up the most.  

The night left as quickly as it came and suddenly the blare of your alarm was awaking you, 7:00am sharp.

You groaned as the loud beeping interrupted your deep slumber and soft dreams of cotton clouds and milky candies. To why you were dreaming of that; you had no idea.

Rowoon groaned, reaching over to the clock and pressing the snooze button. He entwined his arms around your waist, pulling himself closer to you and nuzzling into your bedhead.

"Mm, you smell good." He hushed, pressing gentle kisses near your earlobe and neck. But, you weren't feeling it. You had Taeh-work... Work to get to. Now wasn't the time to fool around.  

"R-Rowoon, dear," You squeaked, pushing his arms away from you to no avail, "I smell like body sweat, probably. It was hot last night. Plus, I haven't even brushed my teeth."

But, Rowoon snuggled harder, now sucking a small black and purple patch right near the sensitive spot at the base of your neck.

"I don't care," He mumbled, moving on to a different location a bit further south, "I like you best like this. Au Natural, if you'd say? Pheromones? C'mon, baby. It's been so long..."

His tone was attempting to be seductive, but came out in more of a whine which failed to turn you on; not that you were in any way beforehand.

It had been a while, though. Before your big project with your company, Rowoon was taking later shifts at his lab for some project of his. Your jobs were almost always opposite from each other's it'd seemed. If he worked nights, you were working days, if you worked weekends, he had it off. It was really amazing how you'd made it last between the two of you. Part of you thought it was just habit at this point, neither of you willing to quit the routine of being together. But, the other part, the one who liked to ignore that side, thought it was because the two of you were still in love. After five years together, the two of you just as in love as the first time you'd met, or at least, something like that. It was easy being with him, and you liked easy.  

"I-I know, but I'm really just swamped at work and all I can think about is getting it done. It's not really putting me in the mood, ya know?"

Rowoon looked at you deeply before sighing, definitely let down and discouraged.

"You're right, dear. You must be dealing with a lot since you can't even talk about it," He frowned, his tone almost bitter, "Just one kiss and I'll let you go get ready."

His understanding for the most part, meant the world to you. He understood you were busy, that you couldn’t talk about your project, and he respected that. Even though you felt beyond guilty, you really appreciated his sentiment and once this whole ordeal was over, you had major plans to repay him, and make up for lost time.

However, your quick peck turned into another one, and then one more, until it was a full blown make out session, but after getting into the rhythm of it, you didn't really mind. Maybe even being a few minutes late to work wouldn't be such a bad thing anyways...

Your tongues meshed together as his heavy pants entered your mouth and you thought to yourself that he was way too turned on for how early it was. Rowoon tested his luck even further by climbing on top of you, his not so subtle hardness poking your thigh in the process. Your throat tightened at the thought of having sex with him. You were nervous for some odd reason. In the end, you pinned it down to the fact that it'd just been a while, because it had! That's exactly what it had to be, right? But, as his hand traveled down and under your pajama shorts, you ignored the little voice in the back of your head warning you just how alien and foreign his touch felt.

8:09. You were nine minutes late thanks to your short escapade just a bit earlier. And by short, did you mean just that. It gave a new meaning to the term 'quickie'. He'd lasted long enough to get about 4 or 5 good thrusts in and then he was coming, practically cross-eyed and red in the face. But why would something that short make you late for work? Well, it's not like you'd have been able to come in the 30 seconds he lasted, and he'd worked you up enough to the point where you'd like to get off too, so, your usual morning shower of 15 minutes turned into 30. In between the process of cleansing and rinsing, you'd taken some time to finish what he couldn't have and in that moment, you were just so grateful for certain items being waterproof.

You rushed into your lab, nearly breaking a sweat and began working as quick as possible just in case your boss had decided to pop in and check on you. You'd never been late before, and you weren't about to have the only time you were be the time you got caught.  

That was something he was known for, your CEO; the random visits. He moved like a shadow, truly just popping up out of nowhere. Whether he was just curious, or asking for a project report, or even stopping in to say a quick 'Hello', it was always the most unusual, and more than likely awkward moments. Like the time you were riddled with seasonal allergies and had a booger far enough back that it just would not come out for the life of you, so you did what any normal person would do and started digging for gold; who walked in? You already know.

Thankfully, that was about as far as it got for you. Plus, you were good at following rules and directions so every other time he'd pop in, you were busy at your desk, typing away, doing exactly what you were supposed to be doing. But you'd heard rumors of him walking into places at just the right, well, wrong moments. Like, last year for example. A girl had just started working here but she quickly found herself in an office romance. So, one day, while her and her conspirator were getting it on in the closet, who walks in? You already know. None other than the CEO himself claiming he needed another roll of paper towel and waiting took too long so he'd gone to get it himself. Needless to say, the two ladies in the question were promptly fired.

So, as you set your belongings down and swung your white lab coat over your shoulders, praying today wouldn't be the day for a random inspection, you pulled up your black computer chair, booting up the machine in front of you and typed away.  

You were already so overwhelmed with today that you just could not focus, so your body followed the usual routine as your subconscious was elsewhere. Your fingers typed and clicked open the coding you'd been working on for months; Taehyung's Code. But before you could add anything, which in turn would ruin the current flow of his mechanisms, someone came up behind you, speaking right into your ear.

"What are you doing?" They whispered.

You jumped up from your seat with a small yelp, grabbing your wireless keyboard as some form of protection as you held it back to swing at the stranger. But it was no stranger, not really. Just Taehyung.

His eyes widened before a loud cackle left his throat, "What are you doing, ___?! Did you forget I was here?" He wheezed, falling down to the couch dramatically in a fit of laughter.

"I-I didn't forget, I don't think?" You mumbled, setting down the keyboard and bringing a hand to your forehead, "Sorry I'm just really out of it or something."

Taehyung laughed again, "It does seem as so. I mean, you were nine minutes late this morning. Why was that?"

He looked at you knowingly, his eyebrows doing a little wiggle, but how could he have known? It's not like he was a mind reader or fortune teller, just... a robot?  

"I got caught up in the shower... lost track of time." You dismissed, turning around back to your computer and studying the code, going over your notes from yesterday to fix any errors.

"Sure, but typically showering doesn't result in hickey's now does it, ___? Unless of course, that happened with someone in the shower?"  

He was walking into uncharted territories and even though you could essentially wipe his memory, you didn't want to even bring up this morning to him. It was embarrassing and pathetic if you were being quite honest. Like, what would you even say to him? "Oh, it was from my fiancé, who ya know couldn't last long enough to pleasure me so I got off in the shower and that’s why I was late!" When did he even see that hickey? How could you have forgotten Rowoon even gave it to you! Of course, you could have lied, saying that Rowoon did do enough to satisfy you, but for some reason, you didn't like the thought of it. Taehyung was pure- okay scratch that. He's not pure, in the sense of sexuality and such, but the boy had never been lied to before, and you did not want to be the first person to do it.

"Just, drop it. Please? My mind is already all screwy and thinking about that is just going to be another headache."

Taehyung watched you as your head fell into your arms on your desk. What was with today? Why were you suddenly so ridiculously stressed out? They say orgasms are a way to relieve stress but this seemed to have just caused the opposite! Maybe your body wasn't used to the influx of oxytocin and was having some weird reaction to it. You'd definitely need to have them more often because if this is what it's like after not having one for so long, you wouldn't be able to deal.  

All of a sudden, a pair of firm, warm arms; yes, warm, wrapped around your shoulders, along with a head snuggling into the back of yours and resting there.  

"It's okay, darling," Taehyung spoke, his voice so gentle, and fluid and melodic that it nearly gave you goosebumps, "it's okay to be stressed out. Not to mention having a fiancé that can't even pleasure you properly."  

"If you were mine," He continued, "I'd treat you like a Goddess. All of my attention would be put to you and you'd be so satisfied, that you couldn't walk anymore, and if you could, well... I'd make sure that wouldn't be the case." His tone turned from soft to hard in a split second and you couldn't stop your mouth from watering. Normally, dirty talk didn't do anything for you, but now, you couldn't help but feel the warmth pool in the pit of your stomach. He was barely even talking dirty! Maybe that orgasm this morning really did do more harm than good.

"T-Taehyung," You tried to speak, your voice nearly failing you, "L-et go of me, p-please." But he just held on tighter, his left-hand snaking down a bit further than you'd like right now, but if he continued his talking... you didn't know what could happen.

"But why? I know you like when I'm near you. When I'm touching you. Look, I haven't even touched you proper and your heart rate has already jumped. You're swallowing often, your cheeks are flushed, you haven't even pushed me away."

He was right, some sick part of you liked it. You were fucking engaged to another man yet here you were enjoying some robots touch more than his. This had to stop. You could not let it go any further. Taehyung had to go offline, at least until you cooled off. But, as you reached to hit the button, he grabbed your wrist, bringing your hand to his mouth as he kissed each knuckle gingerly. You didn't dare look up to him, if you did, you'd know it'd be game over. It would be whatever goes, and you really, really couldn't let that happen.

As if reading your mind once again, Taehyung untangled his other arm from around you, never letting go of the hand he already had, and spun your chair around. You kept your head down, your hair falling into your eyes and you promptly shut them. Anything to keep yourself from looking at the man before you. Suddenly though, Taehyung lifted your chin up, beckoning you to look at him. He laughed at the sight.

"Look at you..." He teased, "Don't fight it so hard. I want this, I know you want this. Just let it happen." His voice sounded so close, you just knew his face was directly in front of yours. And out of morbid curiosity, you looked. Your eyes peeping open to view the beautiful man known as Taehyung, just as you'd expected him. And fuck, was that a mistake.

His eyes were blown out, his lips wet as if he'd recently licked them, even his own cheeks tinted a darker shade of crimson. He was the definition of sex, and you craved him. But what he uttered next, was what pushed you over the edge.

"There you are... My pretty doll," He smiled, his hand moving from your chin to grace your flushed cheeks, his eyes softening but never losing their luster,  

"Let me worship you."

AN: sajkldjals I can’t believe this is finally out lol. I’m sorry for being so inactive but I’m really trying to change that! I hope you all enjoyed the first part though! Please leave some sort of feedback <3 it is much appreciated!

[artificialqueens]

interlude: the whole world folding over (trixya) - dare

L.A. is always the eye of the storm. Adore, in a mess of a lawsuit, runs into Katya, in a mess of her own making. 

an honest world interlude: | ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 |

of all the times i’ve settled in my life, Adore typed on her way out of the office, this? has to be the worst

The text flew out, New-York-bound. Adore threw the doors open with equivalent force, stepping out into afternoon L.A. heat with a swagger that was more hangover than bravado. Porque no los fuckin’ dos, though, right? She brushed her hair out of her eyes and squinted down at her phone, at the three little dots dancing with an impending response. 

She had time. She switched her water bottle to her phone-hand to free up the other, and dug around in her pocket for a joint and a lighter as she ducked into the alleyway beside the Producer Entertainment offices. The lighter was nowhere to be found; the joint she stuck in her mouth, just in time for her phone to buzz. 

FROM: BIANX - 1:43 PM - Tuesday August 26th, 2017

Who do i gotta beat up? 

Adore huffed a laugh through her nose. 

Chillaxxxx, she typed. Not worst. Just longest.

A breeze curled through the alley; she leaned back against a wall in the shadow of an overhanging fire escape, where the sun couldn’t reach her. She patted at her pockets for her lighter, but without much hope of finding it. She knew herself. If it wasn’t sunk at the bottom of the hotel pool after a unnoticed fall from her balcony, she’d eat her own dick. 

Her phone buzzed again. 

FROM: BIANX - 1:44 PM - Tuesday August 26th, 2017

How much longer are you in LA?

Twitching her water bottle between her ring and middle fingers, she typed back: friday if they don’t learn to compromise and u know they wont. fuckin kindergarten ass douche juicers.

“Oh,” someone said from the mouth of the alley. 

Adore looked up and her jaw dropped – only a rapid fumble saving her joint from the ground. “Holy shit,” she said, “holy shit, hey.”

Katya – in full drag, the sun gleaming on her blonde hair from behind like a halo – beamed. 

“Holy shit is right,” she said. “Come here, fuck, give me a fucking hug. My arms are empty. They knew not how empty they were.”

Adore tucked her joint behind her ear and her phone into her pocket as she came out of her hideout to wrap her arms around Katya’s frame, squeezing tight. Katya was all muscle and bone; she smelled like hairspray and she clung back just as tightly – tighter. 

“Oh honey,” she said when she pulled back. “Oh honey, oh honey – oh, hey, love the accessory. Very fash-ion,” she lisped in a french accent, poking at the joint behind Adore’s ear. 

“Be more than an accessory if I hadn’t lost my lighter to the depths, dude,” Adore said, which definitely made no sense, but Katya took it at face value. 

“Well that’s no good. Here,” she said, and handed Adore her own phone, water bottle, and a pair of sunglasses with brims made up of what looked like real actual teeth. “Oh, awesome,” Adore said; Katya hummed agreement, then pulled a lighter and a joint of her own out of one of the ten pockets on her dress with a loud a-ha!

“This is what life should be about,” she said, sticking her own joint in her mouth like a cigarette and talking around it as she flicked the lighter in front of her face, “Sisters helping sisters.” She inhaled, waited, then exhaled dramatically, smoke billowing from her mouth. “God, that’s good. Here.”

Adore stuck her joint back in her mouth and leaned close. 

“Fuck, yeah,” she said on her own first exhale. 

Katya hacked a laugh that went on, and on, and was more scream than noise by the end of it, face scrunched. Then, when she got her wits back around her, said, “Isn’t life great?” and set herself off again. 

Up close, it was obvious how thick her makeup was caked under her eyes, foundation and concealer and highlights all stacked up against what had to be some truly monstrous shadows. You didn’t go through life as an insomniac drag queen without learning the signs. Her cheeks were hollow and the skin around her nails, when she brought the joint back up to her mouth, was yellowed. 

She caught Adore looking and her mouth twitched crookedly up at the corners. “Sometimes you gotta indulge one bad habit to stave off another,” she said, then her eyes went wide. “Fuck. I told Fena I wouldn’t smoke up in her wigs again. Fuck.”

The joint was thrust at Adore; then Katya was tugging her wig carefully off, revealing nylon and a hint of bare skin at the temples. She sighed down at the wig, like it had disappointed her, then hung it carefully off a jutting bar on the fire escape overhead. 

Adore handed her joint back to her, then brought her own back to her lips. She looked Katya over – blonde hair creeping past the edge of the nylon; red lipstick creeping past the edge of her lip liner; the dress; the heels. 

“You filming?” Adore said. 

Katya met her eyes, then looked away. She twitched her shoulders. “Some very expensive and life-like suits wanted to meet before they asked me for a screen test.”

Adore hummed. Inhaled and waited for the burn; exhaled slowly. 

Katya looked down. “God. This fucking… sucks.”

“Yeah,” Adore agreed. 

Katya’s fingers twitched at her side, then she looked up and met Adore’s eyes. “This is fucking shitty. Me, being here – all of this, this whole fucking – just fucking everything. It sucks. I’m so sorry.”

Adore shook her head. “‘S not your fault.”

“Still.”

Adore’s phone buzzed – not a text from Bianca, she saw when she pulled it out, but from her lawyers. Five minute warning. 

“I gotta go,” she sighed. She looked back up at Katya to find her watching with wide, intent eyes, eerily still. 

“I – yeah,” Katya said. Then her mouth twisted and she burst out, “Have you – has Trixie texted you? I –” she bit off her words harshly, looking away and pressing her lips together. A long moment passed. When she lifted her joint to her mouth, her hand shook, just a little. 

“Yeah,” said Adore. Her whole chest ached, looking at Katya. “Yeah, man. I heard from her yesterday. She’s taking care of my plants.”

Katya exhaled smoke and something that was almost a laugh. Then she looked down at the red tips of her shoes peeking out from under the black of her dress, scuffing one foot against the dirty pavement. 

“How is she?” she said. 

Adore, watching her, weighed her words. Weighed what she should and shouldn’t say. People thought she did shit without thinking, but that had never been true. It was just that – sometimes there were corners you couldn’t think yourself out of. 

Which was, now she thought of it, probably the crux of a lot of the problems currently laying their guts bare in this dirty alleyway. 

Fuck it, she decided; in thirty seconds she’d have to go back to being careful and circumspect and compromising, and fuck that, and fuck everyone in that sterile boardroom, and fuck biting her tongue when people were hurting for stupid reasons and keeping silent about it. 

“Trixie’s a mess,” she said. “She’s a mess and she misses you and –” Katya looked up – “she’s so fucking gone on you, man. You have to know.”

Katya’s chest hitched; she looked away again. 

Adore sighed and dropped her joint, stubbing it out under her docs. “I’ve gotta go. Listen…” She waited, but Katya didn’t look back. “I’d say we should get coffee, but all I ever wanna do is go home and sleep when I’m done here. But text me, okay, if you need anything? Anything, Katya. For real.”

Katya’s mouth twitched and she glanced at Adore sideways, her eyes too green under heavy black lids. She lowered her joint and exhaled, then said, “I feel like I should be the one saying that to you.”

“You can owe me one,” said Adore. She checked the time on her phone again, then swore. “Okay, for real,” she said, making her way towards the mouth of the alley; she squeezed Katya’s arm as she passed by. “Don’t forget your wig on your way out,” she called over her shoulder. 

“Give ‘em hell, mama,” Katya replied. 

Adore looked back for just a second at Katya, tucked away in the depths of the alley, joint in hand, watching her go. She looked too small amidst all the grey and grunge. When she noticed Adore’s gaze, she waved a little, just her fingertips, and swayed to make her skirt swish around her ankles, the beads catching the light like fireflies darting through the sky, lost in the black. 

Adore smiled, because she knew Katya wanted her to, and waved back as she left. Her heart hurt. 

Back through the doors, back into the foyer, the elevator, the endless stretch of the halls. Adore lifted her chin and refused to be swallowed up by it, or by the niggling fear at the back of her mind, a waving flag that whispered: what if you just made it worse?

Fuck it. That might not have been the right thing to do, but: fuck it. At least she’d done something. 

[s-driesen]

time may change me (but i cant trace time)- chapter 3/6

Fourteen Fucks you Up- 8k words

Read on ao3

previous chapter / next chapter

Summary: At 14, Robbe pretends like he doesn't miss him. Like he's happy with the friends he has. It's not like he can help the pang in his chest whenever Sander locks eyes with him across the hall. Summer had come and gone, school is in full swing and Robbe's life is about to turn upside down. But, can even the most painful events have an upside?

Or: the one with emotional trauma, spray paint and Sander being dramatic

TW for possible domestic abuse, an uneducated perspective on mental illness and just a general bit of sadness.

Bro, you don't fucking watch her?'' Robbe was tired of hearing Moyo's voice by that point in the day ''YOU DON'T? Holy shit, I'm about to change your life....''

Truthfully, he'd stopped properly paying attention to his friends conversation as soon as they'd gotten out of the school gates. It was just easier for Robbe to withdraw back into his own head as Aaron started boasting that he'd figured out a way to load PornHub on his families (shared) iPad without his brother finding out. At first it had made him laugh, the pure glee on his friends face, but then Jens had started talking about the girl he'd watched the night before, and all at once Robbe's mood had turned sour. But, Moyo? He was always the one to take thing's a step too far by pulling out his phone, links at the ready, prepared to 'enlighten' the others on all things tits, ass and girls. Like he was some sort of unholy sex wizard. To Robbe it had gotten old really fast, he didn't understand the appeal, all the nudity only made him uncomfortable...That stuff was the opposite of exciting. But, so was his life. He pulled up his hood further, his earphones in his ears playing some shitty rap- the kind that he'd only listened to so he could fit in with the boys. Robbe told himself he liked it.

Just like the rap music, the appeal of coming back to school had faded super quickly. Within the first two months at least. And now it was nearly spring and Robbe just couldn't wait to get away from his shit-show of a social life. Moyo was still talking, Robbe heard him over the sound of his music, turning the screen of his phone to Aaron- who looked ultimately in awe of the pair of boobs open in his browser. Robbe picked up his pace. Becoming friends with a 'cool kid' (Jens' words NOT his) like Moyo at the start of the year would've made Robbe burst with excitement, but now? He was regretting not staying on his own. Or at least hanging with other people. People like Sander. Robbe wasn't going to lie- he'd been thinking about Sander a lot over the past couple of weeks. They'd stopped talking over the previous summer, never having a chance to see each other with Sander leaving without a word, a week into the holidays. He remained out of town, for an undisclosed reason, the entire six weeks they had off from school. No calls, no texts. Nothing. And then he'd shown up like nothing had happened within the first week of term. Robbe pretended like it didn't hurt him, of course, but he couldn't help his mind lighting up whenever they locked eyes in the schools hallways. There was always something slightly painful about how Sander would never say 'hi' like he used to. It ached seeing him laughing with his older, taller, scarily popular friends- the ones that Robbe would've never though Sander would've ended up hanging out with. The types who smoked and drank just for the hell of it.

"Robbe....ROBBE? Are you in there, mate?'' Moyo's grin was inappropriately big for a kid who'd had two science exams that day. Reluctantly, Robbe took his earphones out, lips pressed into a thin line, and began mentally preparing to see a picture of an ass he'd probably have to pretend to find hot ''Nappi? Valentina? Opinions?''

Jens was looking at Robbe now, slowing down to walk beside him, and suddenly it felt like he had to lie. Honestly, he had no clue who Nappi was, not even a slight inclination. And that felt kind of horrible momentarily, for a reason that Robbe didn't exactly understand.

''Yeah, she's like really fit...'' Robbe wasn't a good actor. So when Moyo's grin faltered momentarily, replaced with a flash of confusion, Robbe's gut twisted in embarrassment. He racked his brain, trying to think for a second, following up with ''She's the one with the blonde hair and tattoos right?''

Aaron and Moyo looked at each other for a drawn out second, before cracking up in Robbe's face. It was one of those kind of big wheezing, chest-aching, laughs. Moyo had tears in his eyes, and Aaron was patting him on the back as he hunched over. Jens even smirked slightly, clearly too nice to start laughing himself. Honestly, Robbe was so used to that sort of reaction that it didn't hurt anymore. His embarrassment was forcefully subdued, because stuff like that occured often enough for Robbe to know that they'd only laugh more if his ears started tinging red. Deep down he knew he should be angry, but he was too exhausted to act on it. Robbe was too scared of ending up alone to tell Moyo and his stupid grin and his stupid phone and his stupid music to just...fuck off.

He would've probably found it harder to repress his anger if it wasn't for the fact that they'd almost reached the bus stop, where Moyo and Aaron would break away from Robbe and Jens. They always waited, hovering under the shelter, until the pairs bus would pull up- the 'broers' just looking for an excuse to mess around before the school day officially ended. Usually, when he wasn't in the mood to endure the other guys,Robbe would make up some bullshit excuse as to why he couldn't wait with them, unfairly using his mother to create an non-existent doctors appointment. But, the sight of light brown hair and a leather jacket that looked way too big for the lanky frame it hung to, made Robbe stop under the tin roof.

Sander had grown over the summer, considerably taller. He looked more like a bean pole than he had before school had broken out. The sun, which had made a fleeting appearance the week prior, had clearly stuck to him too- his hair was tinted lighter, more caramel toned, like it had been when he was younger. Robbed presumed he'd caught sun on the apple's of his cheeks, as they looked flushed. All rosy with a slight patchiness. Maybe they were. Robbe forced himself not to pause on that thought. Instead, forcefully latching onto another thought train. Because, all at once it had become staggeringly obvious why Sander was so popular, so worshipped by those in his year group. He was pretty. Undeniably, pretty.

By then, Moyo had finally stopped laughing, only teasing Robbe slightly before getting distracted by Aaron bringing up some girl who had added him ''BY USERNAME GUYS! BY USERNAME?'' on Snapchat. The sheer loudness of the other boys voice had brought a gaze of attention that made Robbe slightly nervous. Sander was looking at them, alone and smaller-looking without his gaggle of friends, and Robbe was trying so hard not to look back that it hurt. Jens, ever observant and wise, had noticed of course, eyes flitting between the pair with a quirked eyebrow- Robbe pretended not to notice that too. He could already hear the onslaught of questions coming his way. The types of questions he didn't really have any answers to.

Only the sound of tyres hitting grit could make Robbe stop burning holes into the concrete with his eyes and even then he looked up reluctantly. The bus pulled up slowly, Aaron and Moyo stopped talking to dap Jens before the driver stopped at the curb. Moyo made a snide comment about Robbe 'doing his research' before he had to climb on, not even a word of goodbye, whilst Aaron continued talking to him- like a lap dog that pissed itself when it got too excited- about shit that really didn't matter. Robbe was ready to turn on his heels, to quick-walk down the street and into his house so he could play video games and drown out the mess in his head, when someone brushed past him. Sander mumbled an quiet apology, scooting around Robbe to follow Aaron onto the bus, before turning his head to regard the other boy. With a smile on his lips. It was small and brief, a mere quirk of the lips, but Robbe's brain stopped functioning for half a second. He had to remember how to smile back, and probably looked stupid and awkward when he did, by then Sander had turned back around before Robbe's face even relaxed. The hiss of the bus doors closing dropped him back into reality. A reality where a very confused, very suspicious Jens Stoffels was eyeing his best friend with a look that just screamed 'what the fuck was THAT?'. Robbe didn't know, and didn't want to stick around to figure out the answer, so he started walking like nothing weird had even occurred.

It took Jens approximately two whole minutes to ask.

''Do you two still talk?'' Robbe only shrugged in response, and for a split second Jens actually looked sad for him, like might leave the topic alone. Of course not. Instead, he paused, before saying ''Did you fall out or something? I thought you guys were really close...''

''Yeah, we were, I guess, but he just kind of stopped talking to me. Like, I don't even know why...'' Robbe glanced at Jens as they walked, slowly ambling down the road like they were suddenly all too aware of the brief distance before they'd have to split to walk to their respective houses. Jens still looked confused, and opened his mouth to speak before Robbe cut him off ''He went away over summer, no warning or anything. Didn't even say goodbye. I just went over to his house one day and his mum told me. He just...stopped speaking to me. Like, I'd message him and get left on read. But he'd still like my Instagram posts and stuff...''

''That's just fucking weird.'' Jens said exactly what Robbe had been thinking for the past nine or so months. He shook his head in clear exasperation before continuing with ''But he still seems friendly with you, right? IHave you tried speaking to him recently? Maybe he'll explain now that he's back, could've been some sort of...I don't know....Long vacation?''

Begrudgingly, Robbe shook his head. In his mind, a phone worked two ways and Robbe was far too stubborn to message Sander first. Sander had left him on his own after all. For better people. Like some sort of toy he'd grown bored of when he realised there were other, shinier things to play with. All whilst Robbe had been sucked into a group of assholes who still thought fart jokes were funny. There was an explanation as to why Sander never reached out to him, and for some reason Robbe thought that finding out what it was, would hurt him more. Even though he was achingly curious. Drifting apart from Sander was hard, it made Robbe hyper-aware of how quickly life could change. He'd only just accepted that him and Sander probably didn't counts as friends anymore but the fact that he might still not want to talk made Robbe feel ill- stressed beyond words. It wasn't like he didn't miss his company though.

Everything made him stressed recently. It was like he was standing on a sheet of thin glass, balancing his emotions- waiting for the moment when one of them would fall and shatter the surface. Recently, the glass was cracking. Especially with his mum. Marie wasn't well, she never had been and Robbe had only just realised that. Apparently, it wasn't normal for your mum to sleep for 16 hours some days and just not at all the next. Mums weren't meant to have mood swings so severe they'd give any normal person whiplash. Arguments between parents that ended up with glasses being thrown at the walls were the opposite of what was supposed to happen within a marriage. Robbe always knew his family was different, but the realisation fully hit after he spent a week with Jens' nuclear family. And ever since then the rock in the pit of his stomach started to whisper 'this isn't right' too loudly for Robbe to bear.

"You should text him" Jens brought Robbe back to reality, smiling gently, with a warmth that reached his eyes. The type of smile that Robbe loved a little too much. At that point on the road the paths separated, and Jens gave a short (wordless) salute before peeling away towards his house. Leaving Robbe, alone in the cold with Sander at the forefront of his mind and a lurking sense of self loathing coming back with vengeance. The rain started falling whilst Jens rounded the street corner, his back profile edging out of Robbe's view. Though he didn't feel the biting cold until his coat was sodden through. The quiet patter of the rain, it beat hammering against the concrete, seemed more soothing than home in that moment. ___

Robbe was making a sandwich when he found out his dad was leaving his mum.

It was such a normal day. He'd just gotten home from school and his stomach had been rumbling since third period, so when he bee lined for his fridge his hopes were high. School had offered him the same old shit; Aaron talking about tits he was never going to touch, Moyo being loud and rude, Jens being Jens. And Sander. Ignoring him for the most part, except for when he'd send Robbe one of those small smiles when they locked eyes across the atrium. His silences were deafening, Robbe hated lingering on them. When the bread tore after Robbe's heavy handed attempts to spread out the congealed jam, he gave up on neatness and just started eating from the cutting board, not even noticing the slow footsteps coming up behind him. His mother didn't even speak as she slid into the dining room chair. She only silently watched her son eat his poor excuse for a sandwich and dribble crumbs all over the counter-top. The wave of endearment she felt when he wiped his mouth on the back of his jumper's sleeve only stung. She dreaded this conversation. She dreaded what he'd think of her, what he would say. If he would leave. A flush of anxiety seeped into Marie's voice, soft-spoken and calm enough in her numbness,

"Robbe?"

He jumped of course, craning his neck whilst rapidly chewing. She could already see him creating excuses as to why he was snacking before dinner- time flashing behind his bright eyes. Mouth full of bread, Robbe mumbled a 'what?' before turning himself to face the dining table. He knew something was wrong straight away. Robbe wasn't stupid, he could read his mum like a book. She looked...tired. Tireder than usual, more downbeat and empty than mentally drained. She looked like how he'd been feeling for weeks. Fragile. Her glass was cracking. Marie drew small, timid, circles on the dining table with her finger, face blank but brain whirring, Robbe swore he could hear her think. All at once, the pit in his stomach grew heavier, the anxiety in his chest blossoming as it tore under the weight. Who knew that a few beats of silence could make someone clam up as quickly as Robbe had. Sandwich forgotten, he abandoned the mess on the counter, wiping his hands on his trousers before hesitantly approaching his shell of a mother.

"What's wrong?" He rephrased "What happened?" All of a sudden the house felt off. Like everything was slightly shifted to the left, like the walls were barer and people were watching through the windows. There was one stark emptiness that struck Robbe, after a moment of consideration. The TV wasn't on, there wasn't a coat on the back of the dining room chair he sat in. Robbe's dad wasn't home. He sat across from her then, the room feeling smaller and smaller by the second, like all the doors were bolted shut and it was summer again. Marie inhaled, a wet sounding, gasp-like, sob that bubbled on her lips and made Robbe wince. It's not like he hadn't seen her cry before, but this felt different and new. Because she wasn't upset. Marie was in pain. Strands of long, brown, hair clung to her wet cheeks, and the circles she drew on the table got faster and faster as she tried to say the words. The words that, deep down at the back of his mind, Robbe knew were coming. He'd been expecting them for the past year.

"He's gone. He's left. He took his things with him this morning."

"What...?" He'd heard what she'd said.

"Your dad. He's gone. We're getting a divorce, Robbe"

The glass, he'd been trying not to break, shattered. An almighty crash in his brain, like a fucking explosion that signalled the end of Robbe's own little world. An explosion he'd predicted months ago, but had been putting off preparing for. There weren't words that he could say to reassure his mum as she started wheezing, pushing out short sobs. Ones that sounded like they physically hurt to let out. He could only sit as the world went still, all numb and quiet- the room they sat in, was the only thing in existence for a minuscule moment. But, Marie started speaking again, through the sniffles and tears. Slowly, she reached across the table to take her sons limp hand- painfully grasping his fingers. Robbe couldn't look at her, his eyes burned a hole into the table, unable to move from the coffee ring stained into the wood; where his dad's mug had sat every night before he went to work.

''It's just us now, but that's okay, isn't it? I'll, I'll get a job, I'll start working and, and we'll be okay, right?'' Marie looked frantic, like Robbe was the parent and her the child, feverishly seeking reassurance from the weak. That question, was one he never answered. Because, frankly it was never going to be okay. The instability that his mother radiated was handled by Robbe's father. He was the one that would coax her to lay in bed when she wouldn't sit down. He was the one who'd clean up the pieces of broken glass and ceramic after an outburst. He was the one who would pick up her prescriptions and force her to take them. He'd do everything. In that moment, Robbe thought he was witnessing the death of his childhood. Selfishly, he wished then that he could leave too. His mothers grip tightened, like she knew he what Robbe was thinking, trembling with a tension that would leave marks. Marie hadn't stopped mumbling for the long few minutes that disappeared in what seemed like seconds. She was praying. Robbe wanted to cry, but no tears came. There was only a burning sensation in his chest, that paralysed his entire body. He felt that, if he moved, he would break into a thousands of tiny pieces onto the floor. As she ducked her head, a bible verse on her lips, Robbe came to a conclusion. That he was going to end up like his Dad. Catering to her every want and need, life revolving around beliefs he didn't care about, just so his mother could keep her shit together. The psychiatrist called Christianity her coping mechanism. It was one of the only things that kept her rooted in reality. But, Robbe knew he hated it from the moment she called him a sinner for growing his hair out a few years prior. Her voice was hoarse when she spoke again, and Robbe's chest clenched with anxiety just when she pleaded "Say a prayer with me. We don't need him. We never have. The only person we need is God..."

He couldn't do it. It felt so wrong, all of a sudden. And he knew exactly why. It made him sick looking his mother in the eyes as she prayed, knowing what he knew about himself, knowing that he resented her for a thing she couldn't change. So, Robbe turned into his dad. Confirming his hypothesis. He left. Bolting up from his seat, the chair legs scraping against the floor making a noise so loud that he felt it in his bones, Robbe twisted his hand from his mother's grip. All of a sudden, his cheeks felt hot, mottled red. Looking back, Robbe thinks that was the moment he started actually crying. That lingering mask of shame was tightening, and he couldn't stop his eyes from growing wet. Marie peered up at him from the table, startled- with eyes as big as saucers, shiny and questioning. Everything was too much, so Robbe did the only thing he could think of and ran. Like father, like son.

Quick-stepping out of the kitchen, he darted up to his room, fumbling on the incline so much that he had to brace himself from slipping by letting his hands brush the carpeted stairs. He shouldered open his bedroom door, without a plan, and grabbed the first jacket he saw- the brown one that he'd been refusing to wear ever since his Dad bought it form him. Fumbling, mind racing with the mantra of 'getoutgetoutgetout', Robbe panicked. Grabbing the cash in his bedside drawer, he shoved no more than twenty euros into his back pocket, feeling the hard outline of his phone alongside it. Only then did he become aware of his mum's yelling, she called his name, the desperation laced into her words made Robbe screw up his face in pain. But, right then, he couldn't be in that house. Sharing walls with the memories of when his family was happy, memories of times when his dad would look at his mum with such love that it made Robbe want to gag. Nothing like that was ever going to happen again. The love had faded and his dad had abandoned ship. Just like he was doing now. Deep down, Robbe knew he should probably hate his dad, for leaving him with his mum, piling onto him a responsibility that no child should have to bare. But he understood why. Robbe knew it wasn't his fault he left. If Marie didn't raise him, if Robbe had the option not to love her, then he'd run for the hills too.

"Where are you going?" Robbe was by the front door now, remorseful tears hot on his cheeks, as Marie lingered in the kitchen's entryway. She looked so scared, so confused, as Robbe slid on his shoes, frantically tying his laces.

"Jens'" He lied. In reality he had no idea. Jens' house seemed so far away.

"W-why?" Marie stammered "Robbe, why are you leaving? Wait, stop, slow down...Please, don't leave me here" 'Me'. That fucking word. It was always 'me, me, me' with Marie. Robbe slammed the door behind him as she said it, cutting her pleads off as he stepped onto the driveway. The door flew open behind him, hinges screaming, as he moved to unlock his bike from his garden's fence-post. Rusting, the lock jammed, he struggled to unlock it whilst Marie yelled for him, heavily sobbing, but not daring to inch closer. She had no shoes on, the gravel was cutting at her feet. So she just stood and wailed, toddler-like, trying to reason, but all Robbe could hear was the shell of a woman begging for something she'd break. After a second of hopelessly pulling on the chain, the bike lock clicked open. Robbe lifted himself onto his bike seat, freeing the wheel of the post. Marie gave one more sharp yell, something about him being 'just like his father', before Robbe pedalled away. Peeling out of his street and onto a tangle of roads, Robbe told himself that he wasn't a bad person for not looking back. Somehow, he didn't believe that lie, no matter how comforting it was.

It was on the cusp of evening when he stopped cycling. The sun set had taken all of the days minimal warmth with it. A breeze passed through the air, it stung Robbe's heated cheeks as he rode onwards- functioning on autopilot, legs pumping with a newfound adrenaline. Rounding a corner, he forced himself to stop, feeling safe and far enough from his mother's wails to finally breathe out. After a second of dog-like panting, he fumbled in his jean pocket for his phone, his shaking hands unlocking and tapping into the contacts menu, with a hint of hesitation. The need to not be alone was undeniably strong, but Robbe didn't know what company he wanted. Eyes hovering on Jens' name, he stared at the number like it was going to call itself. But, something inside of Robbe told him that Jens would never understand the situation he'd found himself in. Jens would probably let him stay the night and then ask his mother to prompt Robbe to leave in the morning. After all his nuclear family, with his mum who cooked dinner every night for a dad that called Jens' 'buddy' and did shit like teach him how to shave, blanketed Jens in the safety of naivety. It would be like talking to a billionaire about poverty- utterly futile, with area for misunderstanding that, in the mindset he was in, would send Robbe over the edge. So, panicking more, he scrolled further down his recent calls. Moyo and Aaron would be fucking useless, stereotypical boys who would steal beer from their dad's fridge and make Robbe play Fifa with them. They'd be too awkward to talk, too macho and everything that Robbe wasn't. No one else was even an option worth considering. All of the other numbers were classmates he only spoke to in order to bum answers to overdue homework. But then, Robbe reached the very bottom of his call. Eye's landing on a singular name, that was achingly familiar. One he hadn't bothered texting in more than a few months. Something in his brain seemed to click.

Sander picked up after a few anxious seconds. The sound of his voice, whispering a cautious 'Hey?', made Robbe start crying - flooded with a wave of relief. He'd actually picked up. It was like the reminder of Sander's existence made Robbe feel better, because even if his world was going to shit, he would still be there. Everything before that moment was null.

"Robbe? What's going on? Calm down-" Sander sounded more worried and confused than scared, as Robbe sniffled down the line, leaning against some randomer's garden wall more than a few streets from his home. It took him a minute to gain the composure to talk, as Sander waited- achingly patient and soothing. There was no hint of awkwardness. For a minute it was almost like they hadn't been giving each other radio silence for months on end.

"Sorry, sorry-" Robe breathed out a string of unnecessary apologies, only to be met with muttered reassurance, suddenly not knowing what words to actually say. His tongue felt too big for his mouth, stiff and uncooperative, a suffocating burden. So, Robbe just told Sander how it was, ever so blunt "My dad left my fucking mum."

"Where are you?" Sander asked after a beat, Robbe could hear him moving over the phone, like he was getting up from wherever he was sitting.

"Did you not hear what I said?" His voice cracked again, foot tapping a haphazard rhythm on the pavement. Robbe wiped his nose on the back of his jacket's sleeve.

"Yeah....Where are you? I'll come and meet you. We can go somewhere." Sander sounded serious, his voice low and quiet. Robbe had never heard him sound like that before, and for some reason it pushed away the anxiety that clouded the edges of Robbe's vision. It made him feel real, less fuzzy, more focused. It made him think clearer, as he tried to figure out where he was.

He realised after a minute of looking for a street sign, stammering the name down the phone. Sander gave an affirming hum as Robbe described the house he was stood outside of, not interrupting as he paused or struggled to form his words. The conversation almost didn't seem real. This morning, Robbe had been sat in maths class overthinking the smile Sander had given him as they'd passed one another on the way to school- to the point where he convinced himself that Sander found his existence annoying. Now they were planning a shitty rendezvous like nothing had ever happened between them. The day had turned into a nightmare gone hallucination.

And then when Sander actually showed up, in his stupidly big leather jacket with his mop of hair on that rusty bike that he'd had since he was twelve. Robbe tried not to think that, now, the day had morphed into a dream.

--

It had been twenty minutes and Sander hadn't said a word about Robbe's parents yet. They'd only exchanged a few words when he'd first pulled up, mostly a barrage of 'are you okay?''s and 'don't cry's' until Robbe had calmed down enough to breathe normally again. That was before the older boy cocked his head and mumbled 'come on', whilst he mounted his bike and took off down the road. Robbe followed blindly of course, too numb and tired and curious to protest or question. The only sound between them since was the metallic clank of whatever was in Sander's green shoulder bag. Even then, Robbe had only picked up on that noise as they'd rode away from the high-street, into a tangle of cul-de-sacs and housing estates.

"Where are we going?" He finally asked, speeding up so he could ride alongside Sander, sick to death of staring at the back of his head. To Robbe's surprise, Sander smiled at him despite the lingering silence, quirking his eyebrows as he pedalled.

"It's a surprise" Of course it was. Sander hadn't changed, still scarily spontaneous and desperately trying to maintain the 'mysterious edgelord' facade he'd began to put on just before he disappeared. The same facade that made him do stupid shit like shop lift and smoke with older kids that he didn't even know. Robbe still rolled his tired eyes though, cracking a smile for the first time in (what felt like) hours. As they had rode in silence, Robbe had had time to process what the fuck had just happened, to accept the events that led him to partake in a mystery bike ride with Sander Driesen. It didn't take him long, admittedly. Because Robbe had been waiting for his mum to sit him down like that ever since he'd seen a fleet of texts on his dads phone from a woman who definitely wasn't just a 'work friend'. It didn't make it hurt less though, even with the ample time to emotionally prepare, the idea of Robbe being left with his mother through all the ups and all the down scared him shitless. Though, he decided to not to dwell. Not that night. It was best for him to try and forget about the past hour. Because, Sander was with him for the first time in month. Speaking to him. Smiling at him. It didn't solve Robbe's issues, but he was a welcomed distraction.

Robbe shook his head in mock annoyance, as Sander pedalled faster down the street, hair flashing from brown to yellow under the streetlights. The sun had set fast, leaving the horizon to morph into a sweeping gradient of blue and orange, and in those moments (filled with hesitant grins and shy, but ultimately reassuring, glances) Robbe lost himself.

Eventually, Sander slowed to a stop, pulling into an unlit ginnel between two houses. He hopped off his bike, prompting Robbe to do the same, and walked it down the thin opening like nothing was afoot. Robbe had no idea where they were. Nervous excitement lined his stomach, drowning out a fear of the unknown. The estate they'd rode into was new to him, a neighbourhood of pristine houses with neat lawns and neater families. However, this passage was entirely different, Robbe realised, as it widened to reveal a spacious gap between the gardens of three or four houses. Morphing into, what could only be described as, a makeshift playground. It was a state, to say the least. The archaic play equipment- an array of slides and climbing frames- was vandalised beyond recognition and (to Robbe's uneasy eye) seemed fairly unsafe. But, nonetheless, there was something scarily timeless about it. The splashes of graffiti were organised, a combination of elaborate tags and stupid, obviously context-bound, doodles, covering everything from the knee high walls enclosing the small park to the entirety of a see-saw. Robbe couldn't help but admire the artwork, as Sander dropped his bike to rest on the cracked tarmac, heading for the stagnant swing-set.

The chain of the swing groaned as Sander plopped himself onto the seat, the metal tinkling whilst he idly rocked back and forth. He dropped his bag too, peeling it from his shoulder, and resting against the swing's framing. It took Robbe a long second to place his bike down, deciding to awkwardly rest it against the stiff round-a-bout.

"How did you even find this place?" Robbe mused, scoffing as he gingerly sat in the swing seat left swaying next to Sander, trying not to act like he was scared it would give out under his weight. The other boy shrugged nonchalantly, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jacket, a small, proud, smile upon his lips.

"I was bored one night and just decided to be nosy. I've had a lot of time to explore since I got back'' Got back. Even then, it stung to be reminded that Sander had left in the first place. Although, to Robbe, it was even more painful to remember that he'd gone without a word to the person he'd called a best friend. Robbe must've showed his discomfort, through the way his lips pressed into a thin line whilst his head ducked to stare at his shoes, because Sander lowered his voice- saying the words that Robbe hadn't expected him to say with such ease "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. It was a completely last minute thing. That I was leaving for the summer. It was such a shitty thing to do..."

"It's okay, I get it" Robbe lied, trying to feign indifference, pushing the toe of his sneaker into the tarmac. In reality, Robbe wasn't just hurt at the fact that Sander had ditched town without a word. He'd been ignored the entire time too. No responses to his text messages, not a word of response to him comments on Instagram. Jens was right when he'd called Sander's behaviour fucking weird.

"It not okay though, is it?" Sander murmured, like it was something Robbe wasn't supposed to hear, tinged with exasperation. He looked ashamed, self-loathing creeping into his features with the slight shake of his head. Suddenly, Sander began digging through his jackets pockets, finally pulling out a battered packet of cigarettes. Probably stolen. He lit one without a word, ducking his head into the amber glow, and Robbe's stomach twisted at how much he enjoyed the sight. The sight of the boy he'd known since before he could remember doing something as adult as smoking made Robbe realise just how much times had changed. Sander's idea of being rebellious before he'd severed all contact with anything that reeked of 'home', was staying up past midnight. Now, he'd probably snuck out of his house to smoke cigarettes miles from home in a park that could be used as a crack den. Taking a drag and breathing out the smoke, Sander scrunched up his nose, before flicking ash onto the tarmac. Robbe only watched in guilty admiration, finding the quiet squeak of the swing set oddly calming. Sander spoke again after breathing out a second cloud of smoke, eyebrows furrowed "Aren't you going to ask me?"

"Ask you what?" Robbe knew the answer, he just didn't want to embarrass himself. So, he played dumb.

"Why I went." Robbe faked his surprise at Sander's bluntness, raising an eyebrow before he dove into denial- murmuring some soppy shit about how it was 'up to him' and how he 'didn't owe him anything'. But, even after the long break in contact, Sander could read Robbe like a book meant for elementary school kids. Like it was nothing. So, the soft start of a grin on his face, Sander reassured "I don't mind telling you, Robbe."

Robbe paused, he looked at him then, just to make sure Sander wasn't setting up a trap for his ridicule. Only to be met by soft and genuine eyes. His voice was gravelly, as he began the conversation he'd been rehearsing in his head for months "Why did you leave then?"

"Because Ross was" Sander quipped, like the conversation was scripted, pausing to take another drag.

Robbe had almost forgotten about Ross Driesen's existence, and upon his reminder, a lot of things started to make sense. Sander's older brother was a handful, to say the least. He was the type of guy media executives would make TV shows about. The lead singer of a crooning indie band who played late night gigs in damp basements and did suspicious things among a circle of even more suspicious people. A guy who abused hair dye and walked around like the dictionary definition of a cliche. To Robbe, a fourteen year old who watched Skins a little bit too early, Ross Driesen was one of the coolest people alive.On top of that, he was one of the kindest people Robbe had ever met, so open and caring- even to his little brother's best friend. And clearly, Sander thought the same. However in the eye's of their dad, Sander had explained to Robbe one day about a year ago, his oldest son was a burden that wasn't willing to work for shit. Though, Sander's dad was the unemployed one.

Sander's dad would say a lot of petty, hypocritical, shit like that. When Robbe used to eat at their house, Mr. Driesen would order him to sit up straight whilst hunched over his own meal. An asshole, completely. Like an authoritarian on the back burner, he insulted those slipping out of his control in hope's of making them stay, whilst not applying the rules he'd set for others to himself. Ross hated him, and because Ross hated him, Sander did too. Mrs. Driesen prenteded like she didn't notice the feud between the two sides of her family, playing PTA mum and posting her Facebook minion memes. It was a dire situation.

"Was it your dad?" Robbe asked, watching as Sander flicked his cigarette onto the ground, obviously growing tired of it after a couple of minutes, the cherry died as it met damp grit. He chewed slightly at his lip before nodding, leg pushing his body back and forth on the swing at a quicker pace.

"Yeah. I mean, it's not like they ever really got along..." He trailed off, like he was considering what to tell Robbe next. Sander's expression soured as he continued "Ross just got sick of him, and the drinking and his nagging. He'd been saving up for a while and then his friend offered him a room for like, half of the price it was supposed to be rented out for. So, you know, it just made sense for him to leave" Robbe watched his as Sander sighed, mentally a mile away, like he was remembering stuff he'd rather not. It hurt to see him like that, the tough facade cracking under the weight of recollection, so Robbe reached out- putting a careful hand on his shoulder and giving an awkward pat. Voice croaky, Sander added "And, I wasn't gonna go with him at first. Mostly, and I'm not just saying this because you're here, because of you. But then my dad found some, uh, stuff on my phone and the argument got out of hand, you know?"

"What kind of stuff?" Robbe pushed slightly, scrunching up his nose, not understanding what could be so bad. Sander just gave a dismissive shake of his head. Something about that implication made Robbe nervous. There was another drawn out silence, slightly solemn and worrisome, before the story continued.

"We left the night it happened and...Robbe, I felt so bad for just getting out of there without a goodbye. I couldn't bring myself to talk to you, in case you wouldn't forgive me for leaving. It's so fucking stupid, I know, but I was so scared. And then I came back for school, because Ross couldn't afford to keep both of us afloat, and...and I still ignored you. I shouldn't have done that, but you looked so happy with your friends-"

"It's okay, Sander." Robbe interjected as the other spiralled.

"But it fucking isn't though, you keep saying that" Sander huffed, voice raised loud enough that Robbe feared he would wake those sleeping in the surrounding houses. He swallowed roughly, wiping a hand down his face in frustration. Robbe could see how his eye's were glistening, wet, under the amber glow of the streetlights "Shit hasn't been easy for you either, right? It's not like I'm the only one with problems. I'm sat here, spinning you this sob story, when you just found out your fucking parents are getting a divorce like an hour ago? It's not okay."

Robbe couldn't help let out a small laugh at Sander's melodrama. Summoning gentle laughter to withhold from crying at the sheer loveliness of the boy sat on the adjacent swing. Because even if Sander was going through the hardest, most decrepit time of his life, he'd still try his best to act the hero, by blaming himself for not being able to take care of those he loved. He'd scrutinise the shit out of himself, a mess of self-loathing, in hopes of making others feel heard. Some things never really did change. Robbe realised then, looking into his wide and remorseful eyes, that him and Sander had never stopped being friends. If they had, Sander would've hung up the phone when Robbe called crying. He wouldn't have whisked him away to a secret hideaway across town (on a school night), before profusely apologising, refusing to accept an ounce of Robbe's forgiveness.

However, Sander was stubborn. What he wanted was for Robbe to push him away, display the anger he harboured towards himself. But Robbe could never do that. He dropped his arm from Sander's back and slowly stood up from the swing, feeling the other boys gaze on his profile as he made a show of looking around the small shit-hole of a playground. The only way to move on from woe with Sander was distraction. Always distraction. Over time, Robbe had perfected guiding his attention away from the stuff he shouldn't linger on, albeit he might've grown a little rusty. Before, it was 'let's go play Fifa' or 'I found this weird website' but Robbe felt shitty cat videos wouldn't do the job this time.

So, he settled on "What's in the bag then?" Nodding at the green canvas leaning against the rusted frame of the swing set.

"Seriously, you're just gonna brush past this?" Sander scoffed in disbelief, looking at Robbe with a face that screamed 'you're either stupid or brain-dead' "We aren't even gonna talk about your parents?"

"That would beat the purpose of calling up a distraction, right?" Robbe smiled, turning around from admiring one of the more elaborate tags on the flat back of a climbing frame. It was blue, fading into pink, something in French making a joke about love.

"So, I'm a distraction then?" Sander teased, smirking slyly- making Robbe's stomach dissolve into an army of butterflies. Of course, he ignored them. He only nodded dumbly, before Sander huffed and got up too, leaning down to open his bag "Unbelievable, Ijzerman's"

Robbe peered over Sanders shoulder, watching whilst he began pulling out battered cans of spray paint. The kind with peeling labels and top's that looked like they were about to fall off. Every single one was clearly very well used. And then it clicked.

"You did all of this? The art?" Sander had always been artistically inclined, but never to the extent of this. The pure intricacy of ever single piece covering the playground looked like something a licensed professional would come up with. Not a fifteen year old with too much spare time. But there was something so Sander about every tag, that just screamed it was all his. It suddenly made a lot of sense why he'd taken Robbe there.

"Yeah, of course. It's good practice" He mumbled, trying to hide his shyness at Robbe's stunned tone "No one ever checks here and the people in the houses like it so...I just come here when I need to get out" Sander hummed, standing up properly from his hunched position, nonchalantly passing Robbe a can. It was blue and felt nearly empty, and in all honestly Robbe had no clue what to do with it as Sander looked at him expectantly "What?"

"Well...I don't know what I'm doing, first of all"

"Seriously? You've never done this before?" Sander looked at him incredulously, incredibly sceptical all of a sudden. He bent down to pick up his own can of paint, a disturbingly bright yellow, weighing it in hands before reconsidering and swapping it for a mottled pink "Well...I thought with your 'skater boy' friends-" Robbe laughed and smacked him on the arm as Sander threw up a sloppy air quote "-That you wouldn't be new to tagging"

"You judged wrong, Driesen" Robbe grinned, cocking his head at the other boy, just as Sander wandered idly over to one of the higher walls enclosing the park. It was barer than the others, less crowded, coming up to about Robbe's middle, only dotted with a few runny outlines of smiley faces- one neon green and the other coal black. Sander ran a finger down the concrete, testing to see if it was wet from the day's previous rain fall, absentmindedly shaking the can in his hand. Pausing for thought, he crouched down to get a better angle, before spraying the brickwork. The nozzle hissed, too loud for Robbe's slight anxiety, whilst Sander buried his face into the crook of his elbow- mouth hiding from the paint's fumes under leather. His brow furrowed in concentration, like he was working on the magnum opus of his artistic career, free forearm resting idly on his knees to make the paint flow smoother. Robbe would've believed Sander was being serious, creating something beautiful, until a silly, childlike caricature of Robbe's face emerged on the wall after a minute or so of unrelenting spray. Verging on the edge of insulting, it showed his face with a shit-eating grin under a mop of pink curls. It was bad, crude and janky, but Robbe thought everything Sander did was amazing "That's so fucking cool"

"I bet it's like looking into a mirror, huh?" Sander laughed, stepping back and making a show of admiring his work, stroking an imaginary beard. The wet paint glimmered under the glow of the nearby streetlight, dripping into the pores of the brick. Robbe snorted.

"I don't look like that, you dick"

"Yeah, you do. I swear to god that looks EXACTLY like one of your school pictures" Sander folded his arms across his chest, sticking his chin up defiantly. Suddenly, the walking embodiment of smugness. And just like that, they fell back into a routine. Welcoming the barrage of banter and insults, the ones blanketed under laughter and boyish play. Spraying a messy flower onto the brickwork, next to his own head, Robbe realised how much he had missed Sander. It was overwhelming. He'd missed his teasing and those stupid jokes (the ones that made Robbe's ribs hurt). He'd missed the way he'd make a fool of himself just to see Robbe smile. In all honesty, Robbe didn't know how he'd coped without Sander being there, without his glowing personality and care. Even then, watching his cartoon face melt on the wall, Robbe wondered how he'd gone for months without hearing Sander's laugh. Just the sight of him throwing his head back and cackling like he'd just said the funniest thing in existence, made Robbe cheeks warm up. And for once he didn't feel shameful about it. Sander made him feel okay. Like the loud static of a broken TV set, he muffled all the issues of those surrounding him. He shouted over the elephants in the room, leg's crossed and waiting to be addressed, with stupid jokes and a alarmingly bright smile. Even if his effect was temporary, Robbe doubted he could ever go without it again. For he was as bright as the paint he sprayed on the wall, an attack of neon against Robbe's muted tone, the perfect combination of opposites. A blinding distraction.

Sander shook the can again, the pea rattling inside, before leaning down to add something else to their masterpiece. His low chuckle was masked by two short aerosol bursts. Robbe's view was blocked by Sander's broad shoulders, still drowning in leather, until he straightened up.

"I missed out your dimple" Sander said, shrugging like it was no big deal.

Robbe only grinned bashfully. Staring the the side of Sander's face. Wishing he'd stare back with the same amount of admiration, with the same knot of pleasant nerves in his stomach. That night, although born out of pain, was one of the best Robbe ever had.

-

Thanks for reading! feel free to follow me on Twitter @ s_driesen