#so i left the choice up to you whether she blocks it or not

[sword-bunny]

Unpopular opinion: I don't think Luka is actually that bad

(Casual reminder first that all of the unwilling participants of this death match are slaves who were essentially raised from childhood to compete in Alien Stage. None of them are competing by choice, and this is Luka's second time being forced through this nightmare, and he will probably be made to do it a third time.)

"But he's enjoying this!"

Is he, though?

I don't feel like this moment gets talked about enough. Obviously we don't get to see the actual match so we can't say anything about it, but Luka kissing the dead girl's hand afterwards was important enough that some of the very limited time this series has was used to show it.

Here, he's not smiling, he's not making a show out of it. The show is already over. His back is to the audience, and he isn't even on stage. He lived, she died, and to me this read as a gesture of respect.

"What about him purposefully invoking the images of Sua and Ivan to make Mizi and Till lose their shit?"

Yeah, he definitely did do that, and I'll get back to that. But take a look at his face during his duet with Mizi:

It's shockingly different from the smug, smiling face he has for the rest of the song. From the background behind him, we can tell that Mizi is blocking the view of his face from the audience.

In comparison, the bit where he rolls his eyes, he isn't even looking at her. He's looking at the audience, making a show of his lofty condescension.

Look at the way he's portrayed in the "promotional footage" we see in Top 3. He's the "Ruler of the Stage", the elegant personification of victory. In other words, it's a stage persona.

We got this new expression in Blink Gone, and I did think he was laughing at first! But why would he be hiding that? He certainly never has before. There would be no point, he'd be playing it up, even. But the more I look at it, the more I think he's covering up something else.

Luka has outlived a lot of his opponents, some of whom very likely were people he grew up with, and I think he's starting to crack.

This leads us back to the tactics he uses to win.

Luka is undeniably ruthless! You could definitely make an argument that he goes beyond what's necessary to win.

But remember, he's trying to survive. I don't think he can reasonably be called a sadist for trying his best not to die, even if his methods are underhanded. Is he a good person? I wouldn't even try to argue that. Is he a bad person? I genuinely don't think so.

The situation he's been forced into is unimaginably cruel, and I genuinely believe it doesn't make someone a bad person to try to survive, even if it means someone else doesn't.

Imagine a modified version of the trolley problem: you and a person you do not know are each tied to separate tracks. You get to choose whether the train kills you or the other person. In this situation where you are not there because you want to be or because you're experiencing any kind of consequences for your actions, is it morally acceptable to choose not to die?

Anyways, that's my rant about why it's been getting on my nerves to see Luka constantly getting called a sadistic psychopath. Feel free to make counterarguments, just please try to be chill about it if you do✌️

Edit: I totally forgot about the Alien Stage promo video, which pretty clearly shows that Luka is having a Less Than Stellar time (pun intended)

This is the first shot we ever get to see of Luka, and I've left the lyrics on because I think they're pretty important since Luka is the contestant that's been in this situation the longest. He won and it's still not over. I'm not surprised he feels like it won't ever end!

Then there's this shot. Hooooooo boy this shot makes me feel a lot of things. It's so clear that Luka is even less than a pet, barely more than a toy to his "fans".

Finally, there's this bit where he hides his face behind his arms like he can't bear to be looked at any longer.

Your honor I'm so normal about him I swear

[vicocaaisha]

Thrill

Baek Harin x Reader Fic.

Synopsis: You chose thrill over comfortness. You knew she would only bring trouble, but it's her who you really like.

Warning: SMUT, slapping, fingering, mature scenes in general.

CHAPTER ONE // SUJI’S ENDING // LAST CHAPTER

“Get a move on!” You heard your homeroom teacher. Gulping as you see Wooyi walking towards the other left-out students.

You were going to join Wooyi, but they are already completed with five students already. With no choice between Harin and Suji’s group.

Looking at Harin, you saw her rolling her eyes, getting impatient. You clearly know that she wants you in her group; you wondered how that would go.

Fortunately for you, your other classmate beat you to Suji’s group. With no more choice, you walked towards Harin’s group. If looks would kill, you’re probably dead now because of Eun Byol’s stare. Whatever, you just have to keep up with this shit.

Suji seemed tense; you felt so guilty. She’s a nice girl, she probably made you feel like you’re worth the risk. But it seems for you, you love the thrill from Harin over Suji’s comfort of love.

“Alright, I’ll lead you to your designated rooms.” You heard your teacher say as he started to walk towards the hotel, and your classmates followed behind him.

Fuck.

Was the first word that came to your mind once your teacher told you that you would be rooming with Harin. Harin only.

How come you didn’t foresee this! You knew Harin would never share a room with your classmates. You only shook your head.

“Do you have a problem with us in one room?” Harin said, teasingly. “I mean you can always sleep on the floor, it looks comfy enough.” She added while smirking at you.

“No, I just thought that you would have a room for yourself only.” You replied timidly, trying not to show your dying insides because of the excitement you felt having Harin by yourself.

“Well, I’ve wanted you for so long.” Harin said as she started walking towards you, caging you in the room. You really felt at that time that the room was sooo tiny. “Now, I get you to myself.” You can possibly read her thoughts behind her eyes, she wanted you, so bad.

You really don’t know how to react. When you were in a relationship with Harin, she never really showed any affection or sexual interest to you. You never really kissed, how come she has sexual interest with you now? Or you’re just assuming things.

With that, you opened the unlocked door and ran outside. That’s one way to cockblock the love of your life. You regretted that quickly, especially when you saw Eun Byol blocking your way.

“Having fun fucking my plans?” She asked as she shoved your shoulder.

“What the fuck? What did I do now?” You were so stressed about Harin and now this bitch is causing you more stress.

“Don’t mess up my way with Harin! I wanted to be in a top university so that I could date her and now you easily get your way with Harin? What does she even see in you? You’re not even that big time unlike Doah, her father is a–”

“Oh my God. I don’t have time for this; I’m not your therapist that you could yap to.” You said walking the other way. This girl is so messed up. It’s not your fault that Harin likes you or Harin’s probably just playing with you.

“Hey, wait!” You heard Eun Byol but you just flipped her off as you walked inside in the elevator. Thankfully, the elevator’s door closed off and she didn’t get to enter.

You were going to the cafeteria to buy a hot chocolate or coffee, but you saw Suji’s group. They were gathered around her.

Suji is visibly sulking, it must be because of you. Hm. Your thoughts were confirmed when Yerim looked at your way; she looked at you as if you broke the law.

Damn, you can’t even stay in one place because you’re avoiding a lot of people at the same time.

With no choice left behind, you decided to just walk outside of the hotel, since it has a nice view anyway that would keep you from getting bored.

Your thoughts were so scattered from Harin whether she is playing with mind right now, disappointing and leading on Suji, Eun Byol making you an enemy of hers. Ugh, you joined this field trip to have a good time and now you’re on your own!

The sun is setting, it’s getting cold. You’re so dumb for wearing a skirt and a t-shirt that is also very thin. So much for having a good outfit.

You decided to sit near the lake. Sitting on a big rock, you felt as if you were being stalked. Okay, this is either Harin, Suji, or that bitch, Eun Byol, plotting your death.

Testing your luck, you decided to call out the pair of eyes you’re feeling from.

“Okay,” you paused for a second, thinking whose name you’ll call out. “Harin.”

You sighed, “Come out, I know you’re somewhere behind the rocks.” you said trying to sound annoyed.

“How’d you know it’s me?” Harin asked, feeling her presence behind you.

“I know you’re a stalker, duh.” Your sass came out of nowhere.

“Harsh.” Harin said as she sat down besides you. The wind blew past the both of you, inhaling her scent. You felt the butterflies grow wild inside your stomach. You never really moved on from her, huh?

“Penny for your thoughts?” Harin asked you.

“Sure, a thousand won per word.” You tried to joke.

“I’m serious.” Harin deadpanned.

“Okay then, are you serious with me?” You tried to fireback, but when you looked at her, she was staring at you.

“Yes.” She said with that face again that you hated. Her emotionless face, you can’t read whether she's just playing some sick joke again with you.

You sighed loudly enough for her to hear, “I really like you, Harin, and to be honest I like Suji too. I’m scared of picking you and then when you get bored of me, you’ll just leave me as if I’m just an old doll.”

“I, I’m…” You can feel that Harin is getting uncomfortable from her loss of words, “I don’t know, Y/N. I don’t know how to express my feelings.” Harin confessed.

“It’s okay. I really like you, Harin. Even if you treated me like shit before.” You said, staring afar the sea.

There was a long silence, an uncomfortable one. The silence finally cut off when Harin talked, “I’m sorry.”

“Mhm.” You tried to acknowledge her apology.

“Can I make it up to you?” Harin asked. You looked at her eyes. It looks like she is really sincere.

“I only want you to explain to me what you really feel, Harin.” You knew she struggles with showing her feelings so you expected her to walk away after saying those words to her.

“I like you too, Y/N. I swear.” Harin replied. She answered you? That was shocking.

“It was at first that I…” She paused, hesitating again. You figured you let her talk out her feelings and you stayed silent.

“At first, I wanted you to be mine because everyone in the school is fond of you. I know, I treated you like a trophy and when I was satisfied with everyone knowing I have this power even on you, I left you afterwards.” Harin stands up, walking towards the sea and picking up some pebbles to throw on the sea.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. I mean it.”

“How come you like me now?” You asked her.

“Suji.” was the only word she replied to you. You were confused, what’s with Suji?

“I saw Suji and you…” she cleared her throat before continuing, “kissing.”

Oh?

“Was she your first kiss?” Harin asked, getting aggressive on the pebbles she was throwing.

You stayed silent, not knowing what to do. Suji is your first kiss. There’s no denying that.

“Silence means yes?” Harin asked.

Getting uncomfortable in the position you were currently in, you bid goodbye to her.

You thought you finally escaped that awkward situation. Well, it’s a wrong assumption because as you were walking away, Harin yanked your hands and trapped you in between her and the big ass stone behind you.

“H-harin, I need to go.” You said, your face getting flushed from the position you were in.

You struggled as you were trying to break free against her hold. Her restraint against your hand, which was in the same level as your head, is getting tight.

“Tell me, Y/N, did you fuck her?” You can feel Harin’s voice getting ragged as she was whispering those words to your ear.

You were definitely getting horny from this.

Harin is so possessive. You didn’t even know how it ended up like this.

Harin kisses you as if there is no tomorrow. You can feel her one hand snaking underneath your skirt, playing with your panty.

“H-harin!” You accidentally moaned out loud when you felt her fingers play your clit with your panties on.

“Shush, baby, you don't want Suji to see us like this, right?” Harin teases you.

“H-harin,” you said, getting breathless and trying to stop her from fingering you out in public, “I don’t want my first to be like this.”

That sparked something in Harin’s head. You’re a virgin? Harin thought to herself. Oh boy, she definitely is happy learning this new information from you.

With that, Harin pulled you and practically ran towards the hotel room she reserved for the both of you. You forgot that there was some activity your class had to do that night, so everyone saw the both of you running as if someone was chasing behind.

Harin is excited. When you entered the room, she wasted no time and undressed you immediately.

You were left in your panty and bra. Thankfully, you always wear a set of underwear. Well, who cares? Harin is crazy about you, and now that she sees you in your undies, that feels heaven to her.

She basically threw you on the king-sized bed, and she started to remove her top. Leaving her in a bra and still wearing her jeans. God, she looks so good with her toned stomach.

She hovered over you; kissing you, hungrily.

You felt her hand behind your back, and she easily detached your bra. How is she good with this? Was she with someone before? Your thoughts got cut off when Harin started to suck on your left boob.

“A-ah!” You can’t contain your moans anymore because she’s sucking off your tit and massaging your other tit with her soft, delicate hands.

“Be loud for me, baby.” Harin said in a seductive tone. Kissing your body gently while lowering her head towards your heated core.

She slowly and gently removed your panty. You are getting impatient with what she’s doing with you. You never felt this incredibly horny before.

“God! Just do it already!” You said so suddenly that you earned a laugh from Harin.

“You have to earn it, baby.” Harin said as she slapped the side of your thigh.

You know that Harin is such a bitch, but you didn’t know that even in bed she is even more bitcher. You wanted it so bad that you obeyed her and rolled over to your stomach.

“Pick a number, baby.” Harin giggled. She’s enjoying this, such a sadist bitch.

“One.” You answered, trying to get this over with.

“What about five?” Harin said, caressing your tender butt.

“Oh my God! Just do it. Let’s get this over with.” Your patience is very thin, and it doesn’t help that you were so horny that you just wanted to finish this sadist part and get her started to finger you.

“That’s ten, for being a brat.” Harin said.

You were going to say another sly remark, but Harin beat you to it when she smacked the hell out of your butt. Gosh, that hurts, but it somehow felt good?

“Count.” Harin demanded as she slapped again.

“Two!” You squeaked, “Three!” You continued as she continued being reckless to you.

“...ten.” You said in a whispered manner. You were so tired over that, but it also felt good, to be honest.

“Sleepy, baby?” Harin asked you because of your tired expression that is written all over on your face, “We can continue it tomorrow.” Harin teased you as she massages your butt with her handprints all over it.

“No, please finger me, Harin-ah.” You tried to plead.

“Tell me what you want me to do with you.” Harin said, getting in position in between your legs.

“Just do whatever you want with me, Harin.” You said, slowly.

“I want to sleep now. Can we do that?” Harin said," Oh, she thought she was smart with that reply. If you weren’t so worn out from the slaps, you would have taken control over the shit she’s trying to do.

“No, I want you to eat me out, finger me, use me however you want, Harin.” You said in a low voice.

“Use you?” That’s a word she can do every day to you.

“Please.” With that, she dived onto your core right away. She was very aggressive. You tried to help her by guiding her head where you wanted her to eat you out.

You were practically pulling her hair so hard because of the pleasure you were feeling right now. This is definitely better than you masturbating.

“F-fuuuck!” You dragged out your words.

You thought it was getting better and better until she inserted two fingers into your hole. You’ve never inserted your finger before in you and now she’s rushing. Gosh, that hurt so bad.

You were a whimpering mess when she bit your clit too. Why is she so rough with you! You thought to yourself.

As time passes, the pain that you are feeling finally turns into pleasure.

“O-oh! Right there! There!” This is the most pleasurable you ever felt in your life. Where the fuck did she learned this?

“F-feels soo good!”

Harin suddenly stopped licking your clit and went up face to face with you, still fingering you using the same motion that kept hitting your g-spot.

You kept your eyes shut because of the so much pleasure you were feeling, but you can feel Harin’s stare under the moonlight that is the only source of your room’s light.

“Did Suji make you feel this good?” Harin taunted you. She knows the power she holds over you, and she’s not scared to push it.

You didn’t seem to understand her question, too fucked to understand.

You yelped when she removed her moving fingers inside. You opened your eyes, seeing her slurping your wetness that was coated around her fingers. That. Is. So. Hot.

“Please, let me finish.” You squeaked, desperate to have your climax.

“Answer me, did she fuck you like this?” Harin smirked at you.

You were so put up with her bullshit.

You pushed her down to the bed and were now on top of her, “No, I already told you that this is my first time!”

You started to grind on her thighs. You weren’t satisfied, though. Still, it’s better than nothing!

Harin is impressed over you taking control. She’s not the type of person who submits easily, obviously.

Harin knew that you’re getting tired because your movements became slow. She decided to help you out by rubbing your core with her fingers.

“Mhhm! Mm-oore, please!” You embarrassingly moaned right after she started rubbing you.

Harin is satisfied with what had happened tonight, so she didn’t tease you anymore and just let you reach your climax.

“Fu–ck! I’m so close, ooh!” She was hitting that spot again where it makes you want to pee. With a few more pumps of her fingers, you reached your climax.

You were so out of breath and so tired. As the pleasure slowly fades away, you can feel the sleepiness and soreness start to come over you.

You were falling asleep, fast.

Clink

You hear a lighter sound, and then you smell a cigarette smoke. Harin must be smoking again.

“No smoke, please.” You said. You were expecting her to ignore or leave you now that she got what she wanted.

No words were spoken out of her, and instead, you heard the bin open. Harin must have thrown something.

You felt her lay beside you. Removing the hair that was on your face.

“I’m sorry.” was all she said as she was fixing your fucked up hair. You didn’t reply, just enjoying the soft quietness and the fact that she didn’t leave you after getting what she wanted.

“Are you asleep?” Harin asked as she was positioning to cuddle you. You laid in silence, not having the energy to talk anymore.

“The truth is, I was jealous of Suji. That day when I saw her kissed you…” Harin said, hoping that you were awake listening to what she’s saying.

You were awake.

“Right there, and then I realized that I like you. It’s not an infatuation. When I saw how happy you were with her, I just needed to have you right away, but I can’t because I’m not good at showing my affection.” Harin continued.

“I think I love you, Y/N.” Harin felt more comfortable speaking her feelings now that she thought you were asleep.

“Mhm, take me out on a date first.” You replied groggily.

Harin was dumbfounded when she realized that you had heard her whole confession.

Oh, to be loved softly by Harin.

I'm alive!!! Just went through the worst break-up, and that's why it took me so long to update. Sorry for making you wait and enjoy!!!

Requests are open ^^

[blueathn]

Obligatory coffee shop au art

Close-ups and ramblings under the cut because I spent waaay too long on this

Welcome to my brain soup.

Disclaimer, I didn’t really plan this piece and just kept adding concepts as I went, so it’s kind of all over the place. It’s more a big patchwork of dumb ideas I got excited over, rather than a well thought-out drawing, but I like it as it is! It feels like my brain did when I was reading htn :]

1. The whole concept behind this is just "Vintage coffee ad but make it the griddlehark coffee shop au". I was aiming for cheerful but also not quite right, in a very stock photo kind of way if that makes sense. Gideon is smiling but she is not a willing participant in this. Also that coffee is cold.

I - very predictably - took inspiration from Leyendecker’s work, since his ads and posters are the first that come to my mind when I think "vintage ad", and also because I do feel like his painting technique is close to how I naturally paint. This is not meant to be a study of his style tho, I didn’t try to break it down on more than a very superficial level.

2. 3. Nothing special to say, just Gideon’s arms (her perfect biceps are hidden from view lest they cause a riot in the cafeteria). Also arm hair. I feel like it’s becoming a recurring feature in my art lol

4. I debated whether or not to add a foam skull on the coffee then ultimately decided against it. That’s one skull too many, and honestly Gideon neither has the skill nor the patience to attempt one. Let’s be real, if they let her have access to the pitcher she’d make tits. So here is your tits-free coffee, courtesy of the Cohort photoshop editors.

5. Isaac, sporting the Fourth’s blue not only in dress but also in his questionnable choice of eye makeup. They have matching haircut only so Jeanne can showcase how much better it looks on her.

6. This is where I finally have something clever-ish to say. Thoughts ! I have them ! Sometimes. So. Harrow. You can’t see it but she has a nose piercing as well - this is relevant to spreading my agenda that Harrow is full of bone (piercings, that is). Sue me, I forgot that they let her keep her face paint in this scene. Onto the actual thought process.

This is where Abigail interrupts the scene, before Harrow can catch a glimpse of barista!Gideon. Her interruption is shown by the unfinished look of this panel : the sketch lines peeking through (in a reddish hue, to mimic sanguine, the red chalk that artists used to draw sketches and studies - and also because the contrast of the colors makes it pop better against her skin) + the rendering is messier from the neck and down.

Abigail is blocking half of Harrow from view - I wanted to have her hide Harrow’s eyes and thus line of sight entirely, but I feared Harrow wouldn’t be as recognizable with more than half her face hidden, frowny eyebrows and all.

Abigail herself is meant to look out of place here, without taking too much attention away from Gideon. I drew her in a much simpler style, using a more monochromatic palette and cell shading, to contrast against the rest of the gang, where I used a lot more color variation and a more detailed & textured painting style.

That’s about all I have on this, if you got this far thank you! Your support is much appreciated. If you liked this drawing I’d be overjoyed if you reblogged it and left your thoughts in the tags/notes! I’m always happy when I read them, even just a "#nice" makes my day.

[black-aurora-nora]

New Baby Pt. 3 | Platonic!Yandere!Todoroki Family x Reader

Every morning you were given your medication by Rei with the supervision of Enji. Then you'd get dressed for the day and head to the living area, where everyone would usually be waiting for you.

And despite the fact that you had grown used to the routine, the Todoroki's could still tell that you were holding onto the belief that your parents would one day come back.

How sad, they all thought.

Little did you know that they had been threatened to hell and back by Enji to ensure that your parents would never attempt to try and gain custody of you again.

They were in far too much debt and had no power against the #2 Pro-Hero of Japan.

Enji and Rei had been hoping you'd be easier to manipulate but you were so stupidly hopeful of the future like any other child and while they loved that about you, it wasn't helpful in their situation.

You were currently watching the Natsuo and Shoto play a card game against each other. When they finished a few rounds, they looked to you with encouraging smiles.

"(Y/N), you want to play?" Natsuo asked, raising his eyebrows.

A shrug left your shoulders, "Not really..."

Enji and Rei sat nearby on a couch. Rei looked at her husband, conflicted on whether she should say something to you. She didn’t want to scare you like she had previously.

Softly, she spoke, “(Y/N), why don’t you try playing one game? If you don’t like it, then we can find something else to do.”

Your lips pursed in distaste but you scooted closer to the brothers and allowed Natsuo to deal you your hand.

You quickly finished a round and gave the cards to Natsuo, unimpressed. “I’m going to my room.” You announced only for Enji to block the doorway.

“You need to stay out here, (Y/N). Tucking yourself away in your room isn’t healthy.”

With pursed lips, you timidly sat back down to watch the boys.

Shoto spoke up, noticing your souring mood, "Do you want to play a different game instead? It doesn't have to be a card game, it can be whatever you want."

You weren't in the mood to play anything but it appeared that you had no other choice and you didn't want to sit around doing nothing.

"Ok... that's fine." You chose a game to play and after a few rounds you spoke again, "When does Fuyumi get home?"

It had grown apparent to everyone in the house that Fuyumi was your favorite person in the house. In the past two weeks that you'd been here, you'd been at her side as much as possible.

If Fuyumi was in the kitchen cooking, you were there to help her. If you were watching TV, you would ask her to come watch with you.

It got to the point that Enji forced her to take extra hours at work so that they could get a chance to bond with you.

Having a relationship with your siblings was important, but not as important as having a relationship with you mommy and daddy.

Enji answered when no one else would, "She'll get here when she gets here."

Frowning, you slumped your shoulders slightly. You knew that meant that she wouldn't be back until dinner which was a few hours from now.

Natsuo stood up, patting your head sympathetically. He was jealous for sure. How had you bonded with Fuyumi so easily?

Hell, Enji had to force you to play with him and his brother.

You moved away from his touch and he bit back the anger that burned inside of him. What could he do to get on your good side?

Before he could ask if you wanted to do anything else, you walked over to Enji and Rei, eyes shifting around nervously.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Rei said, smiling sweetly.

"Um..." You trailed off. Any questions about your parents were off limits, but it'd been two weeks now and you still hadn't heard anything.

“I want to know how my parents are doing?”

The room stilled at the question.

Enji looked to the boys and they both left without another word, only glancing at you with something akin to pity.

“Did I not tell you those questions are forbidden, (Y/N)?”

You shriveled into yourself, “I just want to know if they’re ok.” And when can they come take me from this place.

Enji closed his eyes with a deep sigh, “(Y/N), you’re a smart girl. Isn’t it obvious what’s going on here?” He asked you condescendingly. "I thought you would've understood by now since you'd stopped asking."

You blinked, wondering what he meant by that.

Rei smiled sadly, “Oh, (Y/N), you’re parents don’t want you anymore.” She didn't sound sad despite the look on her face. You didn't miss the misplaced happiness in her tone.

She rose from her seat to give you a hug, “I’m so sorr-!” She jolted back when you shoved her with all your might.

Tears stung your eyes and you eyed the two strangers in front of you darkly, “My parents would never leave me! Don’t say stuff like that!”

Enji huffed, rising to tower over you.

You trembled but held firm, looking him in the eyes. Resolute in your declaration that your parents hadn’t left you.

But Enji had planned for this.

“How about we call them?” He said, pulling out his phone, “So they can tell you themselves.”

You swallowed your anxiety down, “Ok.”

He typed some numbers on his phone and held it to his ear, “ Hello? (Y/N) wishes to speak with you two.”

Enji passed the phone over and you gladly took it, smiling wide when you brought it to your ear.

“Mama? Daddy?” You called, beaming when you heard them respond, “I miss you guys a lot! This family is taking really good care of me…” you trailed off before starting again. “But I really want to come back home… But Mr. Todoroki said you didn’t want me… that’s not true though, right? When are you guys gonna come get m-“

“Look, (Y/N)… you’re too heavy of a burden. We can’t afford the medical bills.” Came your father’s voice.

“Huh?”

“We don’t want you anymore… don’t call us anymore. We’re trying to move on with our lives.” Your mom added.

“Please don’t say that!” You wept, “I miss you-“ You felt your heart tear when the phone call ended.

A thick silence filled the room. Only your quivering breaths emitted through the air.

You could feel yourself breathing but your chest felt too tight, there was no way this was happening.

There was no way your parents could just abandon you like that. How could they?

The day before you were taken to the Todoroki house, you were supposed to go the movies and have popcorn with lots of butter and a big soda.

And now, here you were, under the guardianship of two strangers that want to be your new parents without asking if you were okay with that.

“It’s unfortunate, but I promise everything will be ok, Y/N).” Enji’s voice barely reached your ears, “so long as you see us as your mom and dad.”

But they weren’t. You couldn’t forget that major detail.

The “I know it’s painful, baby,” Rei cooed beside you. Her arms leeched around you, entrapping you in her embrace. “Mama will make it all better.”

No, she wouldn’t.

Rei of all people wouldn’t be able to make this better.

“Breathe, (Y/N), you’ll make yourself pass out.” Enji warned, but you couldn’t.

You didn’t want to breathe.

What was the point?

You were stuck with this weird family that treated you like you were five.

Your parents sold you off because you were a burden.

What was the point?

Just as Enji had said, your knees crumpled beneath you but instead of falling to the ground, you stayed held up in Rei’s arms and she slowly lowered you both to the ground.

A smile bloomed upon her face when your breathing evened out, head rested in her lap with a tear-stained face.

You’d be sad for a little while, but that didn’t matter.

Your new parents would help you out.

You’re the baby after all.

[dia-souls]

DIABOLIK LOVERS Imajin Tokuten Drama CD “Big brothers' debate, history of the demons?!”

Original title: 兄弟間の話し合い, 悪魔の歴史?!

Source: Fanmade Tokuten Drama CD

Story by: Admin Irsa

Seiyuu: Suegara rie, Toriumi Kousuke, Takahiro Sakurai, Toshiyuki Morikawa, Tomoaki Maeno

Admin's note: Hey! I am back with a new Drama CD. These days I was confused whether I should upload a one shot or a Drama CD, after debate I went for CD as they are easier to write. Tbh this one is rushed as I didn't properly sat and think about scenes. I just wrote what came in my mind as Carla, Ruki and Shu are my favourite ships with Yui. I wanted to make a CD with any topic about them and finally I did. This cd is focused on Shu roasting as his roasting isn't appreciated enough I focused on that, Carla and Ruki are getting roasted. I have zero idea about demon things origin it's all made up and not canon. Again reviews are welcomed 😭 please review as it's the thing that gets me motivated.

Ruki: Oi! What's the meaning of this?

_Ruki entered the music room along with Carla.

Carla: That's should be my line. Woman, why did you call me with this guy?

Yui: Ruki-kun and Carla-san, thanks for coming!

_Yui walked up to them.

Ruki: State your reason here. I thought you finally stepped up your game by calling me alone in this music room, tsk.

Carla: You are truly a dense women with no sense of moral. Calling two men here in this music room, what do you hope to achieve.

_Yui's face flushed.

Yui: No-o.... You both have a misunderstanding... I-I--

Shu: Pwah.... Could you both stop ganging up on her. This shows your mentality instead of her. You are the one delusional for expecting something from a woman like her.

Ruki: Ohh... Sakamaki Shu. How about you remain quiet as you always have been.

_Ruki looked at him with cold eyes.

Shu: Hah! Why? Are you upset that I called you out?

_Shu looked at Ruki with cold eyes too.

Yui: Uhm... Shu-san wasn't cooperating to go anywhere, I had no choice but to call you both here in the music room.

Shu: Exactly! It was for my comfort don't get any ideas you perverts...

Carla: You inferior being dare to talk to a King of First blood like that!

_Carla stepped closer to Shu only for him to be blocked by Yui.

Yui: Carla-san calm down please!

Ruki: Hah! To think you need a woman to protect yourself, you truly are a failure as a man.

Shu: Is it me or are you both ganging up on me... What a pain.

Yui: Uhmm... I called you three here for an assignment.

Ruki: Assignment?? If you needed help you could have approached me privat--

Shu: Well she didn't for a reason and I think I can see why she didn't.

_Ruki glared at Shu.

Yui: Well this assignment is related to "Demons and Their history " I thought you three will be the best to talk about this topic since, I will get to know about history of vampires and founders. You three are the best options so please cooperate with me.

Carla: Hmm... So you want to know about History of founders. This will be a good idea. In this way you will know about your people.

Ruki: "Your people" what do you mean by that Tsukinami Carla.

_Carla looked at Ruki with serious eyes.

Carla: She will be the Queen of founders and as my wife she need to know about her people.

_Shu chuckled.

Shu: People? What people? Aren't founders extinct? Your history is already over.

Ruki: ...............

Yui: ................

Carla: You! How dare you vampire insult my royal bloodline! You scum!

Shu: This scum here at least has its race and isn't extinct like you.

Yui: Carla-san please-e stop I beg you don't!

_She immediately got between them stopping Carla.

Ruki: Livestock don't get in between. You aren't his Knight! Get over here!

_Shu looked at Ruki.

Shu: You need a knight actually considering your powers you half vampire.

_Ruki glared at Shu.

Ruki: You really got some guts for insulting me like that!

Yui: Ruki-kun please not you too!

_Yui left Carla to grab Ruki to stop him from getting to Shu.

Yui: Please! Please stop it!

Ruki: Hmph!

_Yui looked at them.

Yui: Umm.. For starters I have always wondered what's demons origin like how do they came into being.

Shu: In the same way you human exist we all exist that's it.

Yui: Huh? This means God made you all.

Carla: No...No God made us! We are first blood the superior--

Ruki: Hah! So you are claiming you existed from start?

Carla: My ancestors yes! Me? No.

Shu: Obviously you are after product.

Carla: Are you insulting me?!

Shu: Who knows?

Yui: Ohh? I see so that's how it is.... what about vampires? Do you all think Karlheinz-sama is the first vampire to exist.

Ruki: Good question! That man is a God with thoes incredible powers and--

Shu: Here comes his inner fanboy.

_Shu mumbled.

Ruki: Did you say something?

Shu: No...

Ruki: I see as I said. But I believe this isn't the case cuz you see he has a brother--

Shu: It's obvious he didn't crawl up directly from the hell. He was putted in this world by some miserable people. He must have some nasty parents.

Ruki: Don't insult him--

Carla: There was a time when all species were under us founder. We all were on top the most feared. No one dared to disrespect us during my father's time-

Shu: "Was" so this mean you agree to the fact you aren't feared anymore....

Carla: You! Are you picking a fight here?!? I would love to show you what fear is!

Yui: Calm down Carla-san! Shu-san is joking!

Ruki: I would rather say you humbled yourself. It must be because of her. One of us is bound to awaken as Adam.

Shu: "Us" aren't you excluded because you are half blood.

Ruki: ...........

Yui: Shu-san, why are you doing that?! Please stop it! My assignment needs to be completed.

Shu: Pwah... I am so tired could you hurry up and get over with this all.

Yui: Shu-san if you keep saying such things which angers them how am I supposed to hurry up??

Shu: Then you shouldn't have invited these short tempered people.

Carla: Now I get why that guy hates you. You clearly are a disappointment.

Shu: Ouch.. that hurted....

_Shu calmly said closing his eyes.

Ruki: This man infuriates me with his attitude!!

Yui: Please calm down you three-

Shu: Its not "three" it's "two" or" both" will be more suitable......

Ruki: You talk as if you are perfect you are nothing but a disappointment both as son and older brother.

Carla: To think you will be the one leading the vampire clan, I am sure vampire clan will be bound to ruin if the future king is a sloth.

Ruki: Hah! To think you are Karlheinz's son is a big insult.

_Yui looked at both of them angrily.

Yui: You both, it's too much stop it! You are being mean to Shu-san, he --

Ruki: To think you need to relay on others to do your work... hmph a disappointment.

_Shu smiled and looked at them.

Shu: I might be this and that but you both are still not better than me in anything. I still have everything without trying. You both could never. You both sound jealous and envious.

_Shu laughed.

Shu: I will still become king because I am better than my brothers and that old man's sons unlike someone over here I will have actual commerades actual people to lead too......

_Yui's eyes widened

Yui: Look you all, we are diverting from topic this isnt---

Carla: Huh! You really think you will get away by talking like that about me? If I want I could wipe you and your whole clan from this world!!

Ruki: You think crown will be passed to you like that you are wrong Sakamaki sShu. The crown goes to someone who has Eve and you clearly don't have her!!

Shu: So do you have her? You talk as if you have--

Carla: That's my clan will be restored by this woman so put your nasty gaze off from my woman!

Ruki: "My women"?? You are being very bold considering she doesn't even bat her lashes to you!

Yui: You-u.. gu..ys...please listen--

Carla: Your half breed aren't even in race your blood is too impure to be contaminated with someone as precious as her!

Shu: She doesn't deserve to live with a guy who is as twisted as you in first place!

Ruki: Haha! So she deserve a sloth like you a man who sleeps all day and doesn't have a will too live you!

Yui: You... Guys... stop it's enou--kyaaa

_Yui disappeared without them noticing.

Shu: She doesn't deserve someone disgusting like you with such twisted fantasies.

Ruki: She doesn't deserve someone who is a faliure as a man. A man who runs from duties and responsibilities isn't suitable for her!

Kino: You all are right! She doesn't deserve you three!

_They all turned to look at kino.

Kino: She deserve a prince as she is a princess and that Prince is me!

Carla: You! Where do you come from?!

Kino: Listen up buddies from all of your conversation I realized I am the best option for her. So it's better if you wed her to me!

Ruki: You--where is livestock?!

Kino: She is safe and sound with me don't worry I will invite you three to our wedding! Ohh! Your families are also invited!

Shu: Hahh I knew something like this will happen...

Carla: I will destroy you! Give my woman back to me!

Kino: Hehe! Never and We will see that! Sayonara!!!!

[unclewaynemunson]

A soft knock on the door and a half-whispered "hey there" wake Eddie up from an uneasy sleep. A strip of light shines through the gap of the door, illuminating the figure of Steve standing in the doorway.

"I got some soup for you. Are you feeling any better?"

Eddie shuffles into an upright sitting position while Steve comes into the room and hands him a warm bowl filled with what's unmistakably his aunt's homemade creamed potato soup. Even with his blocked nose, Eddie can still tell that it smells exactly how he remembered it.

Before he knows it, tears start blurring his vision. It's the fucking soup that does it. The smell that brings back memories he tried so hard to leave behind when he suddenly had to leave what he once called his home more than ten years ago.

“Oh, honey,” says Steve in a voice that is so soft and caring that it makes Eddie want to cry even more. He sits down on the bed, right next to Eddie, and wraps both his arms around him, careful not to spill any of the soup. “This fucking sucks, right?”

“It does,” Eddie says quietly, and that's really all he needs to say. Steve will understand. Steve knows exactly how much Eddie was looking forward to this week, how excited he was to return to the mountains and to be reunited with his family and to show Steve all the places that hold so much meaning to him. 

For ten years he hadn't been able to visit. He had missed the mountain air like a chopped-off limb and seen his cousins grow up only through grainy polaroid pictures. And now that he's finally here, his body decided to betray him and keep him chained to his bed with the worst fucking cold he’s ever had.

It's been so long since he has been home that it almost doesn't really feel like home anymore. He never wanted to leave in the first place, but the circumstances gave him no choice. When his dad got locked up Eddie had nowhere else to go but to his Uncle Wayne, who lived states away and who he had only met twice before in his life. He had to leave everyone he cared about behind: his grandma, who would've taken him in within a heartbeat if she hadn't been too old to take care of a ten-year-old kid; his mother, who had already slipped away too deep into her addictions to keep Eddie around in good conscience; his aunt and uncle, who had too many mouths to feed with too little money and couldn't afford the additional burden of another rapidly growing teenager; and his many cousins, of course, who grew up side-by-side with him and made the move feel like he was leaving an unmissable part of his soul behind.

Granted, moving in with Wayne soon turned out to be not by far as dramatic as Eddie had prepared himself for. It turned out that Wayne was actually a better parent to Eddie than his dad ever was. But no matter how much love and care Wayne gave him over the years, it could not be enough to replace home. Nothing was.

Ten years had passed since Eddie left. Most of the cousins moved out, either to find a better life for themselves or to follow the path that Eddie's father had taken. Some of them had kept in touch with Eddie, some of them hadn't. Some of them had gained a family of their own, with spouses and nephews and nieces who Eddie never got to meet.

And now he's back, and everything keeps going differently than how he envisioned it.

He blinks away his tears and tries to eat as much as he can stomach of his aunt's soup.

“Your cousin Jay called,” Steve tells him. “He insisted on visiting tomorrow, whether you're feeling better or not. He said he can’t wait to see you.”

“That's nice,” Eddie answers flatly. “D'you know he hasn't reached out to me in years?” He sighs. “It's so weird to be back here. I thought it would be different.”

“Different how?”

“More like coming home, I guess. But all the places have changed. I barely know some of those people anymore.”

He places the unfinished bowl of soup aside. Steve pulls him closer in his arms and presses a gentle kiss on his curls.

“I've felt so angry about Hawkins for so long,” Eddie admits to him, “but now it's like I don't belong here anymore either.”

“You do belong in Hawkins, you know,” Steve tells him.

Eddie huffs.

“No, I'm serious,” Steve insists. “Has Wayne ever told you that he thinks you coming to live with him was the best thing that ever happened to him?” He doesn't wait for an answer as he continues: “And your bandmates, the Hellfire Club, all those lost sheepies you've been looking out for over the years... Maybe Hawkins didn't exactly welcome you with open arms when you just came there, but you made a home there. You did that.”

“And where are you on that list, Stevie?” Eddie asks, a teasing edge returning to his voice despite how awful he’s still feeling.

It takes Steve a few seconds to answer, but when he does, he sounds surprisingly soft and genuine, almost shy.

“Wherever you want me to be.”

“Don't worry big boy,” Eddie tells him softly, nuzzling his face into Steve's chest, where it's warm and where the sound of Steve's heartbeat forms a comforting presence. “You're the most important part of what home means. Top of the list, whether we're in Hawkins or here in the south or on the other side of the world.”

Steve hums and kisses Eddie's temple.

“I do wish this week would've been more like how you wanted it to be,” he says. “But for what it's worth, it sounded like Jay was really excited about reconnecting with you. Let's see if you can sleep off this cold, and tomorrow will be a new day, alright?”

Steve starts to pull away to leave Eddie alone in the bed again, but Eddie clenches his fists around the fabric of his polo.

“Stay with me?”

Steve chuckles softly. “Of course.”

He sits back down on the bed with his back against the wall and gently manhandles Eddie until he's lying with his head in Steve's lap. And with Steve's fingers softly stroking through his hair, Eddie quickly drifts back to sleep again.

Tomorrow will be a new day. And even if being back is bittersweet, at least Steve is with him - and the sound of Steve's heartbeat will always be home.

This one's for my dear friend dae @strawberryspence because sometimes life sucks and while nothing can actually solve it, some warm soup and a loving hug can at least make things a little bit more bearable <3

[anantaru]

what would your favs do in a modern au? and another really important question: who would they listen to?

cw. none, different tropes, gn! reader

a/n. nonnie I'm not sure what you meant with the 'who would they listen to' so i thought you may mean songs they like ??

heizou the private investigator, who has his own agency but prefers to work underground— he has a soft-spot for helping people in need and doesn‘t charge money for it. whilst, the local police knows of him and always hires him for quite dangerous, complicated investigations if they were to fail to do their own deep examinations on the mission at hand. heizou is vastly proud of his profession and his skills are one of a kind, for some he might appear to act relatively arrogant but it's not that at all if you dare to look at it closely, he's confident in his abilities if anything and treasures his own well-groomed skills the most. fun fact: currently, alongside the police, heizou was investigating the mafia whose members certainly are known to you.

heizou's favorite music of choice: french music (i'm biased okay leave me alone) for example demain by PLK or derniere danse by indila.

scaramouche the mafia hitman, who too— prefers to work underground to escape any awkward encounters with people. he exceedingly loathes conversations, they make his blood boil, peculiarly with his peers and would rather gauge his own eyes out than attend any special meetings. although as such, his work was in a class by itself, as perfect as someone can be, the higher ups know that he was not dispensable in any way and a real treasure within their ranks. in scaramouche's eyes, there was nothing he cannot do nor was anything off limits, if there was a mission to be accomplished, he will take the challenge without batting an eye.

scaramouche's favorite music of choice: mitski or melanie martinez (he doesn't admit it tho) &lt;3

alhaitham the library overseer at your university who never talks to anyone, kind of a weirdo, yet he cannot possibly do so anyways since most of the times he greatly engages in yet another spellbinding book. for him, it's the perfect job; listen— he never needs to work overtime, duh, he's always home by the same, exact time and although some students can be quite loud and jarring to be around with, the library was a place of pure silence, which he greatly relishes in. but be cautious, if you dare to even raise a single octave of your voice, he will shoot you a death glare and wow, what a terrifying and overly handsome sight at once, you already know that many students only go to the library to admire the hidden view.

alhaitham's favorite music of choice: the man not only uses his headphones for music, but to block out outside noises which works just wonderfully. he prefers slower tunes, ones that do not disturb his reading. for example, ludovico einaudi or johann sebastian bach.

yelan the infamous casino manager, who makes her peers shiver in both sharp fear and terror. if she wants you to win, you will, otherwise she'll do what she does best, manipulate the game to her own benefits to slowly enchant you with her intense charms you simply cannot get enough of, only for you to slowly, agonizingly slow, slant down into the pits of literal hell and large debts. the pretty, dazzling woman has a business to run after all, you cannot be mad at her for that. yet, she is also reasonable and makes sure she isn't tainting the precious, not to mention flawless image of her casino.

yelan's favorite music of choice: no tears left to cry by ariana grande and diamonds by queen riri

dottore the mafia doctor, who works alongside scaramouche and has stitched countless of his wounds in the past. although the two of them absolutely loathe each other, no one can deny the outstanding skills dottore would display on a daily basis. whether it's open wounds, deep, dark bruises or broken bones, there was nothing he cannot heal. notwithstanding the fact that his practices might seem unethical to the outside perspective— especially if you take his habits of experimenting on his patients into consideration, yet, as long as he sews and bastes together the injured, his boss simply does not care and aids him in whatever he might be in need of.

dottere's favorite music of choice: torture sounds /for legal reasons this is a joke, or classical tunes for example the four seasons by vivaldi while he conducts his experiments on some patients he has.

kazuha the lifestyle blogger who takes you with him on every new adventure taken. his youtube channel had blown up since and had become one of the top on the entire platform. his posting schedule is all over the place though, he can go without uploading a new video in months which his subscribers do not mind, kazuha was a free spirit who goes with his own personal vibe, if he was in the mood to film something from his exciting adventures he'll do just that. expect loads of selfies with different animals from all around the world on his other social media, (ignore the weed in his hand) beautiful locations and deep talks on livestreams late at night.

kazuha's favorite music of choice: everything by tame impala, he also likes listening to indie artists and support them on his channel.

venti the worldwide music star who sells out every tour he does. the man was envied by the ones who shared his profession while utterly loved by the countless amount of fans he has. his voice acts like a charm, it's sharply mesmerizing and soothing to the ears, in some ways does it appear as if he's wholly hypnotizing the audience with his tunes. another fact, he writes all his songs himself and gets praised from every direction possible, while if you take everything into consideration of his life, venti was still very much humble and loved interacting with his fans or do interviews so they can get to know him better.

venti's favorite music of choice: loads of kpop music, for example stray kids or txt, but he does have a soft spot for classical music whenever he composes his own.

kaveh the architect who gets booked by the biggest, most flashing celebrities on the planet. fun fact, he was the one who constructed venti's mansion, since the latter only wanted the best of the best— while, quite frankly, there isn't anyone better than kaveh himself who could've adapted to venti's wished and made his home all the more personal and extravagant. in spite of the fact that he gets paid loads of money for his work, the sweet, talented architect tends to find himself broke almost all the time in his life. thankfully he had made a special friend whilst going out in town to drink a couple of his favorite beverages, here's to note that he never thought he'd become friends with a certain librarian.

kaveh's favorite music of choice: he likes taylor swift, ariana grande and tends to listen to music that is older, yet quite underrated. kaveh claims that the tracks on certain albums that get the least attention, are the best in his eyes.

©2023 anantaru do not share, copy, translate any of my work

[hastyprovocateur]

Coaches Don't Play

(Coach! Abby x Soccer mom! Reader)

Summary- reader is a single mom determined to keep her act right for the sake of her son, but when his new, crushingly gorgeous coach enters the frame, she might have to ask herself some hard questions.

Word count- 12k

Cw- fluff, sexual content (ripping clothes, tribbing), mature themes (guilt, separation, divorce, single-parent struggles, mentions of domestic violence, sexual harassment, puritanism, homophobia, all-boys Christian school)

Reader desc- reader is a mom and has a name+surname, named son/ is not heavy on physical description)

Pickup at Noon

“The person you're calling is currently unavailable. Please leave a message after the tone." Still radio silence on the coach’s end. You clicked your phone shut, tossing it into your lap as you white-knuckled the steering wheel. The light took an eternity to turn green. The school office line was already busy. A school zone sign stuck out like an accusatory finger as you drove out finally. The minimal outline of the mother and child, hand-in-hand, appeared to mock you; what with your relationship with your only son on the rocks.

How did I forget… how did I forget… you chanted under your breath as a by-passer yelled at you for cutting him before. It was elevator music at this point. Whether it’ll compound with the verbal lashing at the office from Bill, your boss, making after-school pickup an n circle of hell, you’d find out at night. When the day crushed your temples; threatened to split your skull open like a clam. It was all this, going on grave-ward.

You pulled into the school parking in your messy Civic. The passenger seat sat piled with manilas, cigarette boxes, and empty coffee to-go’s. A wrapped sub sandwich remained half-eaten from a couple mornings back. Running breakfast situation. You shoved whatever you could in the glove box, throwing the rest in the back before grabbing your handbag. Your panty hose shifted as you got out the car. Itchy seam on soft skin.

Throwing a frustrated glance around the parking lot, you adjusted yourself, lint-picking your pencil skirt for insurance. Tilting the cracked side-view mirror up, you wiped the lipstick overlining the bow of your lip, scraped the smudge of mascara below an eye, smoothed a loose lock down the side of your face.

Zion City had a spare handful of private elementary schools offering football, your son’s sport of choice. His father’s, more like. Things used to be different. There was a 5-year plan. House with a picket fence. In sickness and health. Us and ours. A silver lining.

Now you looked at pieces of it on the floor, asking if there was anything at all. Yes, he was protective… he loved you. He wanted all of you. And he did until there was very little of you left. It started with slamming doors, screaming at night. A slap. It can’t be true. You’d pray like a stuck record, beg to wake up with your eyes open. But you didn’t until one morning as you faced a mirror. Gash in cheek. Staring down blood in the sink.

The preppy, Saints-associated, all-boys private school was very much for European wonder. Pointed arches, ribbed vault ceilings, and glass stained windows supplying the hefty tuition fee. Fielding the entire cost of your son’s education tempted you every day to transfer him. You wanted to pick up the shambles, cut losses, and move across state. But your heart couldn’t bear to crush him with more changes than you’d already dealt him.

He needed his friends, the old house, neighbors they’d grown with. The skewed swing you put together one day in the spring. Besides… the school fields were immaculate in all their green splendor. You had to admit as you ran across the side of the building, down to the back. Heels clicking on concrete, you arrived a perfect mess at the stairs leading into the third block. “I’m so sorry I got late… I had this work… thing” words go amiss from your tongue as you see your son sitting with a blonde stranger, watching her flip a quarter.

He laughed, the dimples sinking into his chubby cheeks after Lord knew how long. She had him enthralled, her tall frame lay sprawled back on the stairs, elbows propping her up as she smoothly danced the coin over her fingers, hiding it in her palm. Her conversation came easy, long ponytail punctuating her animated facial expressions. You shifted on your heels, legs squirming ever so slightly.

“Dylan, honey…” you called out, hand outstretched, waving to get his attention. She noticed you first, beaming brightly at you in the late noon sun, straightening up with respectful poise. Pocketing the quarter. You noticed her broad shoulders, filling out her inky jacket all too well. “Think your mom’s here, bud” she slapped her thighs veiled in sweatpants, yellow whistle jostling in the middle of her chest. His face fell at the mention of you, betraying your already broken heart, but you concealed it.

“Hey, churro pop!” You tried to greet him, but he acted like you hadn't, numbly getting to his feet, putting his backpack on. All traces of joy from seconds ago were now dissolved. The young woman gauged the switch in energy, eyes flitting between mother and son. “I’m Anderson… the new Coach” she interjected, cordially extending a hand. It dwarfed yours, calloused fingers shrouding your hand before giving it a firm shake.

It made your dainty gold wristwatch tinkle from the motion. You stared up at her blue eyes, the spattering of freckles on the bridge of her nose, high cheekbones. Youth spelled evident on her plump, pink lips. You felt a hitch in your throat as you ran a conscious hand up your blouse, closing the topmost button you’d carelessly left open all day. Your brain wracked.

“Oh” it clicked “That’s why Coach Carlson wasn’t... picking up… I tried to get through” You ran out of breath immediately. Strain hid below your tongue, sat like weight on your chest. Deflating you. You lowered your eyes, letting your exhaustion have its moment. “Yeah, it’s been a couple weeks” the young coach informed you, idly punching her open palm with the other fist “He moved to St George. To his daughter's”

Dylan bristled before you even spoke. “Baby, you never told me” You brought it up gently, except it landed like an axe. Maybe he did? You thought as his eyes deadened; face overcast with a shadow. He shook his head, storming towards the car, leaving you stranded with the new coach. You watched his little figure turn the corner and remember the skip in his step when he first started school. Head bobbing and his backpack swinging behind him.

The accusatory fingers returned. They weren’t in your face, but they filled your skull, fighting out your chest.

“He’s… mad at me” you muttered

“He’s just 9”

You gravely turned to the young woman “I missed his game.” “No, you didn’t” she shook her head, assuring sincerely “It was just practice round. Interschool got postponed by 2 weeks.” That simmered a quickly flooding guilt inside you, defusing something about to blow up. You exhaled in relief, spluttering as you wrung your hands “I promise I-I never miss his big matches. Rarely weekend practice. I do reach school on time. Just when, sometimes I rush in from work. I always leave a message for Carlson, then call Dylan from the office to make sure he’s-”

“Hey” Anderson’s eyes softened as she touched your arm, dragging the back of her knuckles down to your elbow “It’s okay” she assured you. Your shoulders dropped at the physical contact, melting the pent-up tension stiffening them like resin. You glanced at her hand and back up at her, brows scrunching above your doe eyes. A sudden proximity, forlorn depths in your gaze. Anderson dropped her hand upon realising, pocketing it as you rubbed your arms consciously. “I don’t mind staying back for a bit… Mrs Hendricks” her voice trickled slow. Deep.

“Angela” you managed a small smile, adjusting the handle on your purse as you shift your weight on one heel, part of your conscious focused on your son. “I’m…” “Divorced?” the new coach affirmed, seemingly aware of the family dynamics. “Separated. In the process of… divorce” you gave a brusque nod, pause weighing the air. With pretenses aside, you brought up your biggest concern “Is he okay?”. The coach drew a long breath, calm despite the choppy domestic matter she faced “Dylan’s our star goalie. A straight A student” she shrugged, smiling to comfort “He’s just struggling the way any child would.” “It’s… not just that” your whisper carried dead weight, grief.

“Mrs-” Anderson raised a finger to her lips to correct herself “Angela, I might be too young to understand marriage and children but I do see that you’re a great mom. I’m sure you’re trying your best.” You pursed your lip, lest you burst out into tears. Her voice touched a part too deep and wounded. You managed a grateful nod, pressing the back of your hand to your throat to push the lump down “I should… get back” you turned to leave, ankles struggling to hold up in your heels.

“Hey” she called after you, jogging to catch up and placing an innocuous hand on your back, causing a shift so mild, you barely felt it. “Why don’t you save my number?” she suggested, a touch of pink in her cheeks “I can keep you posted about important dates. For pickup or if you’d like to talk about Dylan.” “Oh” you blinked nervously, fumbling for your phone “sure’ you handed it out, flipping it open for her.

Anderson pored over the screen with focus as she fed her number in, handing it back “Put that in as Abigail. No! Just Abby.” “Abby” you echoed as you save the contact, hanging back ever so slightly to let your arm touch graze against hers. It felt like you were milking the moment, having felt nothing all this while only to come to feel something so strong. “Also” the coach bowed her head close, passing on a secret “I could be wrong but I think I accidentally unhooked your bra just now.” You swiftly averted your eyes, feeling up your back and realizing that the ends had indeed, come apart, leaving your breasts unsupported.

“Fuck” you cursed softly. Though Abby bit her lip apologetically, she barely masked the satisfaction. “I’ll… fix it later” you felt blood rush to your face, beating a hasty retreat. “Take care, Angie!” Abby called after you. A hand in pocket, other throwing the whistle around her neck triumphantly.

Later that evening

You double-checked the latch on your bedroom door, standing before your vanity mirror in your lace gown. It had been ages since it meant anything at all. To adorn yourself in the sheer silk and be slowly unraveled. It had been ages since you’d been touched tenderly, explored, and laid open like pages of a book, fingers running along every line. All that remained was a wretched mass left behind from a loveless marriage. You gulped as you pushed the strap down to expose your breasts.

They’d lost their former perkiness, sitting heavy and low. Milky blue veins and pale stretch marks ran around them like cracks of thunder. You cupped them gently, trying to remember what it felt like with your eyes closed. In sudden colorful musing, you imagined them being replaced by the young coach’s rough, warm hands. Running up your ribs and cupping you. The size of them perfect for her large palms. Tracing them gently as your nipples edged into her touch.

The stairs creaked as Dylan headed down to the kitchen, and you snapped out of it. You pressed the heel of your hand to your reddened face, and the mirror reflected your shame as you threw a robe over the gown, securing the cord tight.

Dinner across the four-seater was gravely somber. You served yourself a scarce portion of the pasta salad after doling heaps for Dylan, watching him spoon some into his mouth before moving to have some yourself. “Good?” you asked softly as he dug in with more spoonfuls, and he shrugged “It’s how it always is.” You fought the immediate woe upon seeing his disinterest. It was a losing battle. “Must be always good, then” you laughed a hollow laugh. Only for him to exhale, followed by an equally nonchalant “whatever.”

Painstaking silence ensued, and you struggled to push each morsel down your throat. A sip of water lubricated your words. “Your new coach is quite cute” you remarked after doing the mental gymnastics to bring up something he liked. “Yeah… she’s cool” Dylan responded after a while. “She said your interschool is in a couple weeks” you scratched the cheap synthetic tablecloth “Are you nervous?”.

“Don’t act like you know soccer” he snapped. Your jaw dropped with a sharp exhale, and you tried to cover it with a nervous laugh “What?” you grazed your chest “I… know soccer. I take you to all your games, we practiced when you were a baby, I was cheering on you when you won last season!”. He turned sour “Not like dad used to do” “Well, he’s not here now, is he!” you snapped back, regretting the moment it left your lips.

He stared at you, steeling his gaze as his soul turned away from you. He quietly got up, abandoning the half-eaten plate of food before leaving the room. “Dylan!” you call after him “Honey! I didn’t-”. It didn’t seem to matter. You couldn’t bring his father back for him, and he’d never let you forget that that he left. You could move wherever and so would the sinkhole he left in the house. One no amount of love can fill. You bit your tongue to distract yourself from the welling tears in your eyes, pushing your plate away.

Bedtime

Before bed, you checked your phone. It was chalked with the usual messages. Work, network service company info, local businesses, and scammers trying their luck. You’d long stopped receiving follow-up messages from fellow moms. Friends had faded in the process of tearing apart from your husband. He’d been the life of the party, rousing gatherings and infusing them with slapstick jokes. Always the funny guy. Which made you the shadowy outcast, the bad cop, the one to blame when things went awry.

Hence, why Abby’s message made your chest stiffen slightly. Butterflies tickled your ribs as you looked it over and over. She’d just sent herself a “<3” from your phone, perhaps making sure she saved your number as well. It doesn’t mean anything; you told yourself. As you moved to shut your phone, it burst into the sparkly digital ringtone you’d set ages ago. “Abby” it read on the caller id.

You clicked accept in a daze, realizing with the static-y blare of air on the other end that she was genuinely talking to you. “Hey, Angie!” her voice hit better than bourbon, running down your spine. “Good evening, coach…” you reply in wisps of words, breath irregular “Sorry… Abby”

“Is now a bad time? I know it’s late…”

“No, it’s alright”

“Cool” she bought a deep pause, seeming unsure of what to say next “… I just wanted to ask if… you and Dylan are doing okay.” You bit your lip, well-versed with standard answers “Yeah! He ate his dinner. Took care of his laundry. He’s doing his homework before bed” you counted off your imaginary fingers, hoping it was convincing enough.

“And you?” Abby furthered, taking you by surprise.

“Me?”

“What about you? How’re you?”

“I’m…” you fiddled with the hem of your nightie, fingering a hole in the lace “okay.” “Angie” Abby uttered, the faint sound of a TV in the back, match commentary in progression. You heard her suck air into her lungs for courage “You can talk to me, you know.” You pressed your thighs close, the tenor in her voice more penetrative to the senses than anything. It was scary how eager she had you over a phone call, fighting thoughts of how you’d be if she was close.

“There’s nothing to say. I really am… okay” you assured her despite the ever-present urge to unburden your whole heart “I’m sorry if I had you worry” you laughed for effect.

Abby chuckled in reply, clicking her tongue. Tough crowd, you heard her mutter under her breath. She cleared her throat “Can I see you in my office? Tomorrow?” she asked. You pressed a hand to your warm forehead, feeling yourself flush “Y-yeah… I suppose I can” you stammered nervously, to which Abby promised “Don’t worry, I just want to help.”

Next Day at the school office

You consciously bounced a knee in your cold chair, watching a handful of parents milling around the main office. You wondered what they’d been called in for. Failing calc? Smoking on campus? Jerking off into the teacher’s pigeonhole? You knew for a fact that some of them deserved it. The leather strap of your shoe dug in your ankle, compelling you to adjust the little gold buckle. A pair of white sneakers came to a halt near you, familiar ones. You peered up at the new coach. She smiled down at you, holding a hand out for you to hold. Her eyes inconspicuously flit towards your cleavage, and you blushed, sliding a hand up your chest. “Need help with that?” she asked softly, kneeling by your undone heel strap.

“No… it’s okay” you discouraged her but she gently moved your hand aside, feeding the leather into the buckle and securing it. “I’m quite handy with silly kid’s shoes, I’ll have you know” she tilted her head; hand wrapped around the underside of your shoe. “Women’s heels too?” you chuckled, shrouding the shiver from the way her hand grazed your ankle, how she knelt before you. Abby shrugged, smiling “New notch on my belt.” You headed through to the sports department. The trainer’s office was located on the opposite side of the building facing the field. “Like they didn’t know where it was going to be” Abby joked as she held the office door open for you, the metal plate outside still reading “Carlson.”

You looked at the partly disordered space, a fresh box of trophies and certificates in one, everything smelt like rubber. There stood a photo frame boasting of a grainy photo of a little girl with a braid, hoisted on the shoulders of a man. Dad and daughter. “They don’t pay me much, if you’re wondering” Abby joked, and you turned to her, smiling “They make me pay a lot.” “Well, thanks to you… I don’t have to share” she boasted, shaking her head.

The photograph lingered at your periphery, but you let the questions go for the meantime. “Thank you for meeting with me…” you said, a tone more serious, as she pulled a chair away from her desk for you, watching you settle down in it. “Me?” Abby frowned, leaning back against the side of the table, not too far from you “I should be thanking you. I know your work can be hard to get away from”

“It’s okay. I do need to get more involved. I barely attend PTA meetings” You confessed, eliciting a concerned nod of acknowledgment from Abby, “Those… are quite the spectacle”

“Parents can be passionate” you shrugged

“There was a petition to make the campus segway friendly”

“I… wasn’t part of that” you stifled a laugh

“Lucky you” Abby crossed her arms, her slight movements drawing your eye to her zipper glinting halfway down her chest, urging you to drag it all the way down. See what’s hiding beneath. You shook your head, placing your palms face down on your lap “Hey… I… really hope Dylan isn’t misbehaving or giving you a hard time”

Keeping it to the point there, Angie.

“Not at all!” coach denied swiftly, making you wonder what the issue was “He’s giving his all to practice and school. Which is why I was concerned… he seems stressed.”

“Oh…” your gaze fell to your lap as Abby craned her neck low, inquisitive. “Has he said something at home? Anything about the upcoming competition?”.

You fiddled with the hem of your skirt, stretching the pause out till it hurt your chest “Soccer season was always w-when… his dad would be home the most. At all his matches. They’d go on little hikes, drives, eat at his favorite diner, he’d buy him anything he asked for” you stretched your lips in a twisted smile “The house would be full.” Abby knit her brows, inching close to gently touch your shoulder as you fought the urge to start bawling. “He just misses his dad” her warm fingers slid down your back, almost breaking the dam holding it all back “a-and I don’t know what to do.”

Abby wordlessly pulled you against her front, your hands shakily wrapping around her waist as you steadied your breath. A tear still squeezed through, quickly bleeding into her jacket. “It’s okay” Abby rubbed your back, lightly combing your hair “You weren’t supposed to be doing it alone. It's not fair.”

You clutched your fingers deeper into her back, cinching at her shape through the loose athletic wear. Her fingers tickled the back of your neck, compelling you to pull away, peering up at her face. With your sweet lips rosied and wide eyes misty. Abby’s breath visibly hitched, chest falling still as she brought her hand towards your face, resting a thumb on your cheek, brushing your bottom lip. “No” you uttered breathlessly, curling into the chair.

Abby flew back into her desk, fingers digging into the wooden edge, visibly shaken as she drew jagged breaths. You covered your face in shame, breath hot against your palms “I’m so sorry.” “No, please” Abby brushed the air “You don’t have to apologize for anything.” “I’m sorry I…” you compose yourself, chin pinned to your shoulder “I can’t. I don’t want to give you the wrong impression and I don’t know why I just did that-”

“Hey, hey” Abby gathered your shaking hands as your guts twisted into knots “Hey… Nothing happened…” she asserted; blue eyes wide with her words firm “Nothing happened.”

You screwed your eyes close as you felt her hands shield yours, the weight of the emotion crushing your senses. “Yeah…” you collected yourself “you’re right” you consciously slip your hands out of her grip, clutching the arms of your chair “Nothing happened.”

Abby stared at the ground, idly punching her palm and letting the clock ticking on the wall swallow the whole incident. You strengthened your resolve, nodding “I’ll try and make things right with Dylan… I was planning on attending his weekend practice, anyway” you shrugged “I can fit in some stuff.”

“Sounds good” Abby remarked “don’t worry too much. I’ll do what I can from my side” she added. You raised your wrist to glance at the dial on your wristwatch. The metallic tinkle drew the young coach’s attention “Yeah… I need to head out to the field for PE class as well.”

You rose out of the chair, shuffling towards the door and reaching for the door knob, trying to maneuver it open. Abby came up behind, putting her hand over yours around the knob and holding it. Her breath ran warm down your neck. “By the way” a baited second passed “Coach Carlson didn’t move to his daughter’s.”

“What?” you whispered, clutching your purse as you turned to look at her. Abby licked her bottom lip, chuckle scratchy “They caught him with the guy who tends to the fields” she leaned closer “Utility closet down the corridor. Kicked him out the same day. Hired me three days later. Grateful as I was… I wonder” Abby steeled her eyes, hesitant yet bold as she grazed your wrist “If he regretted it…”

Morning of weekend practice

The car door shielded you from glances of the general passerby, soccer moms mostly. Also, from the cigarette between your fingers, cherry glowing bright as you sucked the smoke deep into your chest. The back of your throat tasted like cinnamon. You dug your fingers into your neck, lightly swinging as you sat on your haunches, delicately balanced on your high heels.

You’d battled for that half-day, leaving the temp in blaze amid ignored voice messages. You were determined to stay through weekend practice. An early drive home would be nice so you could spend some time together. Make a stop at the diner Dylan liked, ward off the bad luck with greasy food.

The inseam of your panty hose began irritating your skin again. “Cheap… fucking… shit” you forced a hand up your skirt, trying to relieve the itch.

“Hey, Angie” you heard from the sky above and nearly toppled to the side, throwing your elbow up to defend yourself from the unknown. “Coach!” you looked up to find Abby standing behind the door with her crossed arms propped on the window, smirking down at you. You quickly hid the hand holding the cigarette, moving to crush it under the point of your heel.

“No, save it…” Abby rounded the open car door, sliding down the side of the car to join you on the ground, big frame folding onto itself “Unless now’s a bad time” she whispered, holding two fingers out.

You released a chuckle, passing your cigarette to her, back of your fingers grazing hers in doing so “It’s never a bad time to sit and do nothing” you shrugged with a simple smile. “That’s the dream, isn’t it?” she watched your face keenly as she took a drag, blue smoke pouring from her lips. “I can’t imagine someone as healthy as you smoking” you mused and she raised a brow, staring at the ground “I usually don’t”

“Don’t let me ruin you”

“Too late”

You quietly plucked the cigarette from her fingers, your scarlet painted nails lightly scraping her hand. Her eyes connected with yours beyond a mere look. Deep and curious. “Why not the bleachers?” she inquired, and you bit your lip, flicking loose ash “I was hiding, I guess” you confessed.

“Me too” Abby chimed in exhaustion, casting a furtive glance back at the field. A flurry of moms monopolized the bleachers with folding tables decked out with food stuff for their beloved sons as they took a break from practice. Helicoptering and rallying what with the competition round the corner.

“You first” she shuddered in the shoulders before turning back to face you. “Let’s just say… a single mom on the verge of divorce doesn’t fare well in these shindigs.” “I can imagine” Abby raised a brow, and you nodded slowly “They’re always praying that he comes back. So my family can be whole. The way God intended."

Abby let the words linger, the bitterness in it evident, the false comfort. “Well…” she bit back a smile “I hope he falls off the edge of Earth.” That brought some warmth to your soul, eliciting a surprisingly loud laugh from your mouth "Not you being a flat-earther."

"I'm not" Abby's smile faded and you laughed harder "Flat-earther" you repeated for emphasis.

"That's not funny" Abby protested with dead eyes and you lost it. You bumped into her arm for buttress as you teeter once again, feeling the smooth ripple of her bicep beneath the sleeve of her jacket. It gave you another unwanted flash of how her bare arms would feel like as they wrap around your breasts. You squeezed your eyes shut “Why are you hiding?” you redirected your focus quickly.

“Well,” Abby reached back to smooth her ponytail “It’s a lot of pressure to begin with. The Dean is really keen on bringing the trophy this season even though I just joined and it doesn’t help that Carlson left most of the team is disorder. Plus… the moms can be…” she dragged out the silence, and you piqued with curiosity “Spit it out.”

“I know they mean well…” she fiddled with the cigarette, thumbing the ruby print left by your lipstick “But they can be really touchy.” You knit your brows with empathy “Tell me about it. I once got told off for a chicken casserole I cooked wrong. “No…” Abby blushed; legs splayed open as her knee poked into your thigh “Touchy as in… they touch me… a lot.”

You dropped your jaw, scandalized “What?”

“Yeah” she scrunched her nose in embarrassment “They call me round the clock, telling me to take their sons off the bench, asking about what to feed them, talking about troubles at home. They stand too close…” she shook her head. You widened your eyes, nail tips digging into your bottom lip. “Put their hands all over” Abby whispered, holding the cigarette out at your stunned face.

You shook yourself out of it, drawing the dregs from the dying cigarette before you finally managed a thought “That sounds like hell" you blew a raspberry "It's like they've never seen a buff woman”

“You think I’m buff?” Abby watched you fumble with words as you crushed the cigarette on the tarmac, dusting idle ash from your leather heels “I’m just stating the obvious.” Her blue eyes mellowed, scoping your evident blush. Seeking you out. For more.

“Tell me what you think” she leaned close.

“I thought you don’t like moms talking at you”

“Other moms, no”

“Well,” you shrugged lightly, scraping together your feelings “… We were raised on verses, tender mercies, and blind faith. Many bought into it. I did. I thought it would work for me the way it did for them. But now I look at how my life turned out, and then I look at you. You’re about the age I was when I got married, by yourself, doing what you like, the way you want… makes me question everything” you gathered your knees, resting your chin on top.

Abby playfully nudged her shoulders into yours, “You make me question everything too” she whispered “I used to think people who marry and have kids are insane. After my dad... I didn't want to take care of anyone for a long time. And it was good. Being free... having no one depend on me all the time. Though the empty house hurt sometimes” she gripped her bicep, considering deeply “But I see you with Dylan... and wonder what I'm missing out on”

“You’re not missing out on marriage” you tutted, biting the inside of your cheek

“Not even with the right person?” Abby tilted her face at you, curious pout catching you off-guard.

“Maybe... it's hard to believe”

“Just because something didn't work out once doesn't mean it never will.”

You blinked, switching your gaze to the vast field, breeze blowing loose curls across your cheek. You wondered for an inane second if she saw your heart leaping up in your chest. Unable to contain the spike of hope she gave you. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me” you confessed.

“What?” Abby’s voice pitched “I don’t believe that.”

“I’m being serious!”

“You're a gorgeous woman. People should be telling you sweet things all the time”

“You think I'm gorgeous?”

“You don't?”

“Dunno” you shrug “Hard to tell when everyone is mad at me.”

“Not everyone”

You gulped, feeling Abby’s unwavering support setting fire to a part of you, reviving more bits and pieces of you against your will. Hope wasn’t a good thing to have in this tandem. The breeze swept your hair again as you turned to face her with some words of discouragement, catching your eye. “Ow” you winced softly, hand fluttering up to push them back, struggling as your eye burned a little.

“Hold on” Abby loosely wound her fingers into the feisty lock. “There” she smiled, tucking them securely behind your ear. Your brows peaked in that same old dance, like you were staring at the sun but it was just your son’s painstakingly gorgeous soccer coach

“Abby” you mumbled thinly as the warmth of her fingertips made you limp, cheek burying into her palm. She ran a thumb over to smooth a stray strand, grazing the raised bump on your cheekbone.

“Fuck” she uttered softly, eyes darkening as she switched between the scar and your eyes filled with fear. She knew before you said a word. “Angie…” her nostrils flared, lips pursing to contain her tongue. “No” you reach for her hand, holding it against your cheek as if to beg “Let me forget.”

Abby inched forward, gingerly leaning in to eclipse your faces. She hesitated, waiting for you to pull back but when you didn’t, she gently kissed your cheek, soft lips lingering over your skin. Her cool, smoky breath tickled you and you flinched, pulling back to peer into her blue eyes.

“Coach!” a distressed call erupted from somewhere in the distance and Abby jerked back. It was code soccer mom. Abby shot up, dusting her sweatpants as she sauntered over to the frazzled mother looking for her, briefly turning back to smile at you. “We need another table for the hors d'oeuvre, the extra broke and the boys-” she continued to explain as Abby soothed her “Let’s find another table for the hors d'oeuvre, Debra.”

She headed back to the field as you sat hidden behind your car door, stubborn smile pasted on your lips.

Towards the end of practice

“9, forward, forward, faster!” Abby yelled, wildly gesticulating to make it more coherent to the boys “4, free yourself! Goalie, watch the forward! Remember what I showed you!” She looked sexy when riled, golden muscles beaming in the sun, flexing through her fitted dri-fit tee after her jacket came off her back and sat tied around her lean hips. She was quick on her heels, eyes flitting over every single player. Sharp, barking instructions as her ponytail bounced behind her.

The mothers seemed to collectively sigh with every aggressive instruction. You fanned yourself with an expired Target voucher, wondering if they were imagining all the stuff they never got to hear in the bedroom.

As Dylan deflected another shot with a jump split, Abby sustained her whistle, signaling the end of the match as the boys slowed down to a canter in place. They bumped into each other, chirping about their respective goals amid rowdy back slaps and cheers. Soon they began looking around for their moms. You watched Dylan dully plod from the netted goal, unstrapping his protective gloves. “That’s my big guard!” you squealed, unable to help yourself.

Abby looked back, smirking lightly as the other moms shot unpleasant looks at you. You pursed your lips nervously, hunching down in your seat so you became less visible. Dylan acknowledged you with a quick nod, his face lighting up the second he saw his coach with a fist extended towards him. He bumped her back, laughing as she ruffled his head before hoisting him on top of her shoulders. Dylan beamed as Abby brought him over on her back as the other players rushed out with them. All running to their mothers.

Dylan seemed all too comfortable on there, hands gripping Abby’s shoulders as the mothers swarmed her, voicing various concerns as each grabbed her own flesh of the womb. Abby swung her head between the crowd, trying to hear everyone out. You remain seated in your plastic chair, watching the spectacle as it unfolded. Their voices soon became one united cacophony, the boys padded at her sides while the mothers clutched at her arms, shoulders, spouting question after question about every miniscule detail about the competition. The coral and bubblegum manicures dug into her arms and you bit your lip, mind wandering to forbidden places. A pang of jealousy perhaps. Because the way you touched her would be so much more dangerous than when they did.

Half an hour passed and the young coach had found no respite, they badgered her over the devilled egg halfway into her mouth. An attack no amount of soccer training could have prepared her to defend. You hadn’t taken too deep a breath either, swilling a glass of warm lemonade as two women interrogated you about your husband’s whereabouts, puzzled how you managed the bills alone, took care of the house and tuition fees. Bet nobody was asking your ex such questions. His friends are probably badgering him to sleep around again. You told some half-truths, intercepting a stray Dylan trying to shimmy past you as you braced to slither away from the gathering. The second they turned, you chanced upon glorious getaway, only that… Abby appeared so sapped and cute, trying her best to be attentive.

“Coach Anderson!” you called out to her over the din on the bleachers. She snapped up, attentive as a canine to your voice as you beckoned her. She excused herself from the hound, jogging up to where you were standing.

“Hey” you pulled her close, watching the moms break out in urgent whispers “Don’t act like it but… I was taking Dylan to his favourite diner and I was wondering if you’d like to join.” Dylan peered up at your faces, about to emote in excitement before you clapped a hand around his mouth, feeling him argue with your fingers. “Did you turn water into wine in your last life?” Abby asked gravely, quickly slipping a hand up your back as she ushered you out of the enclosure.

“A thankyou would suffice” you chuckled at her pallid stone-face

“It most certainly would not” Abby hissed

At the diner

You felt the bile rise in your throat as you nudged at the vinegary lettuce on your plate. Abby noticed, picking some off and munching on it. Meanwhile, Dylan had ketchupped both his hands, shoving his side of bacon and hash browns into his mouth.

“You alright?” Abby asked as you lightly rubbed your temple. “Did you really have to sit in the same booth as me?” you asked under your breath as Abby lifted a brow, corner of her lip twitching “Am I too close?” she shifted in place, spread thighs nudging into your crossed legs. “Don’t play…” you warned her with a stern glance “I’m doing this for my son.” “Coaches don’t play, Angela” she stole another chunk of lettuce from your plate, chewing with a smug grin.

Dylan had been talking nonstop about new goalkeeping techniques he had perfected at practice. Obviously, he was elated at the prospect of hanging out with his favourite person, more so now that she was sitting across him. It smarted a bit to watch it not be you but you just wanted to see him happy. Even if you weren’t the reason.

“Who taught you soccer?” he piped excitedly and you turned to Abby, watching her face fall ever so slightly despite the big smile. “I had the greatest coach” she simply said “the best ever.” “Will he come see us play??” Dylan hopped excitedly in his seat and Abby chuckled “Of course, he’d love to.”

You contemplated heavily before inching your hand to the side to comfort Abby under the table with a gentle hand over her knee. She kept her composure, quickly sliding her hand over yours. The callouses on her palm felt scratchy on the back of your knuckles, dwarfing your hand. You wondered if she lifted. Of course, she did. You weren’t the avid gym goer but you could pick those who were out of a lineup.

“Mom” Dylan gestured to the bathroom and you nodded, watching him slide out of the seater and bound down the diner, leaving the two of you alone. “Was it your dad?” you asked gently and Abby frowned, nodding.

“There was… this photo… on your desk”

“Right”

“I didn’t mean to pry”

“You didn’t pry” Abby managed a small smile “It’s me… I still don’t know how to talk about him” her voice broke despite the forced steadiness. You began to draw your hand back, feeling it linger on her knee for too long and Abby snatched it back, placing it right back on her knee. You threw a cautious glance around the diner, worried if you might have undue company. Perhaps a pair of eyes from the locale. You turned to her, welcoming her into embrace.

Abby gladly fell into you, arms catching on your shirt in a hurry to wrap them around you. “It’s alright…” you cradled her head, lips pressing into her hair head as she nestled into the crook of your neck. Abby tightened her grip on you, causing you to exhale sharply as you clung to her back. Her chest rose and fell shallow, breath quickened with her eyes closed. “Abby” you warn her as she slid her hand up your spine “I need this” she begged.

“We’re in public” you whispered only for her to groan back “You suggest we do this privately?” “No!”

Her warmth began seeping through the layers of clothes between you, getting to you and making an all too comfortable home at the back of your head. It was a hard thought to unthink, an even harder act to undo. Your eyes rolled back in your skull, fingers weakly pushing her arms down from your waist. Footsteps come bounding back from the distance and you barely tore yourself apart as Dylan hopped back in his side of the sofa. You self-consciously sorted your hair mussed on one side as Abby fought the flush in her face.

“Coach, you’re still eating” he laughed as Abby rubbed her neck nervously “Yeah bud, can’t get enough of it.”

“You’ve had enough” you weakly snapped at her, pulling your wallet out “Grab your bag, Dylan… we need to drop coach off at her house before we go home.”

That evening

You lightly knocked on the door, turning your ear against it. “Yeah, mom” Dylan acknowledged back and you cracked it open to find him hunched over his study desk. Upon a closer look, you found him scribbling defense formations on his notepad, tearing them out and scribbling more.

“Honey…” you stared at the papers “Come on… bed now” you rub his shoulder. He paused, hovering his pencil inches from the paper before dropping it. Trudging over to the bed, he plopped and laid down. “Good” you smiled, pulling his comforter over him. “You happy about today?” you sat yourself at the edge of the bed, patting him gently.

“Yeah” he said simply, rather numbly “Practice went well… I’m trying to perfect my technique.” You bit your lip, choosing your words carefully “Sweetie… you know you don’t have to be perfect, right?” you adjust the collar of his night suit “The only reason we put you in soccer was… so you’d have fun.”

“Hm” he stared vacantly at the wall, you words were already out his other ear. “I liked hanging out with coach today” he said out of nowhere and you turned your head to look at him. “I’m sure she feels the same” you smiled after some moments as he looked at you, a bit crestfallen “You won’t take her out of my life too… will you?” he asked.

“W-what?” you felt gut punched “I don’t… I mean, why would I…?” your voice broke while you fought to pull yourself together with a shaky hand in the air.

Dylan frowned; lips downturned “You didn’t seem too happy to hang out with her today… like how you were with dad” he clutched the comforter tighter “I think you’ll make her go away too.”

“Baby, I…” you wanted to speak but the ache of your heart breaking overwhelmed you, your chest hurting “I would never do that” you got up, making a hasty exit while your face was still dry. I would never you repeated to yourself as you shut your bedroom door behind you.

There wasn’t much you could do beside softly sobbing into your hands, hunched over as if wanting to disappear within yourself. Your cell phone erupted, the chippy caller tune distracting you. It was the coach.

“Hey, Angie” she said as you clicked accept, labored breathing into the receiver, realizing that you were in no position to speak yet “Hey…?” she repeated and you began to speak, words getting immediately swallowed by the lump in your throat. You slowly blew through your teeth, forcing yourself to act right.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Abby inquired with more urgency and you cleared your throat, finally catching your breath “Hey” you blurted “I’m okay… Dylan’s okay.” Abby paused, not knowing what to say “Are you sure?”

“Yeah... yeah” you breathed, nodding to yourself. Self soothing. “Are you okay??” you asked, realizing that you hadn’t checked on her or asked why she called.

“Yes! It's all good” Abby responded, her voice deeper… softer. “I know I’m calling late again but I wanted to…” she hesitated, making you clutch the phone tighter “I wanted to say sorry” she finally uttered “I realized I was being really pushy and I guess… I need to manage myself.”

You massaged your temples, mind wracked as Dylan’s words linger in your mind “It’s okay…” you exhale “I don’t mind you being a part of my son’s life… I’m seeing him act like himself after a long time.”

“And you?” Abby let the question hang in the air like a guillotine as you struggled to find answers.

“I’d like if we stay friends… for my son’s sake” you enunciated each word carefully lest the truth slip out “Nothing more”

“I see” Abby processed it, her tone dulling significantly “If that’s how you want it.”

“Please don’t take it the wrong way…” you trailed, fiddling with the lace trim on your robe “I'm in no place to reject you. You’re so young and energetic… you could find anyone your age. They'd be lucky to have you!”

“You’d think it would be easy but it's not” Abby confessed quietly, the static behind her voice hanging over the silence “The girls I’ve grown up with are all puritan and now teaching P.E at a Mormon private school. I can’t risk it…”

You gulped heavily, all too familiar with the situation “I get it” you replied shakily “My ex-husband’s fighting me for custody… telling family and friends that I’m this sleazy drunk throwing myself at strange men. I can’t seem to start over hard as I try.”

More silence ensued, punctuated by Abby’s frustrated sigh “We can start over”

“Abby…”

“I want you”

“No!” you discouraged her sternly, holding back all the feelings you didn’t trust. “You’ll find a girl. Younger, wiser… braver” you said cautiously, not wanting to entangle her in your fucked up world “I just know it.”

“And you?” she asked, calling your bluff.

“I’ll… be doing what I do" you laughed bleakly “I barely have to time to think between court visits, office, pickup, weekend practice and making casserole the right way” declaring hesitantly: “I’ll be fine.”

“Just say it, Angie…” Abby urged through gritted teeth “Tell me to fuck off so I’ll actually listen” she cursed in exasperation, anger thinly masking the despondency.

“Fuck off…” you replied firmly as you heard her draw a weighted breath, like she could burst out in a flutter of honest words but instead the line went dead.

I want you too… you mumbled to the nothingness.

At office

Abby’s words from last night haunted you, like a shadowy devil on your shoulder as you sat at your work desk. With how much time you’d spend in the same spot, doing the same things, you wondered if you’d truly forgotten about moving on. Because when she brought it up… it sounded alien. Absurd.

This life was all you'd known but what would things even look like outside of this. You could imagine Abby doting on Dylan, fussing over his games, engrossing him with coin tricks. You pictured them sharing a meal at the table, laughing. Like a family. You even fantasized about pleasing her when alone, crying and writhing in her arms… trusting her… loving her.

“Shh!” the sound punctured your thoughts and you turned around to catch your colleagues gossiping. They quickly hid their faces.

Just like that, you were back.

“Hello, this is Angie from Accounting. How can I help you?” you took a call, pinning the receiver to your ear with a shoulder, fingers flying over the keyboard as you sorted the invoices. “Bill?” you craned your neck to look outside your cubicle “He’s preoccupied, I believe” you lied, watching him stuff oatmeal cookies in his face in the breakroom. “Sure, I’ll pass it on to him" you clicked the telephone back, rearranging the reports on your desk as Bill strode up, brushing crumbs off his beard.

“It’s Nessie, she said you didn’t re about their company ad sizing in classified” you explained, and he rolled his eyes “How many times have I told her…

“Just talk to her”

“No, you talk to her”

“I’m just an accountant”

“Angela… please”

“God” you grimaced, staring at the growing pile of paperwork on your desk, tabs of spreadsheets open on your computer “Fine, but just this once.” “Cool” Bill dismissed it immediately. Your cell phone rang in the middle of work, it was from the school nurse’s office.

A shot of ice ran up your back, stiffening your body “Mrs. Hendricks? mother of Dylan Hendricks of 4C?” the nurse barked down the phone. “This is her” you replied shakily. “Your son hyperventilated and lost consciousness during soccer practice. The coach has handled the situation but we’re mandated to inform you.” “What?” you sobbed into the phone as the nurse cleared her throat “Ma’am… don’t pani-” you shut your phone as you swung your purse up your shoulder, getting up to leave.

You bumped into Bill on your way out.

“Hendricks” he grabbed your arm “Where are you off to? It’s not pick up yet.”

“Dylan fainted during practice; I need to get him right now” you tried to push past him but he forced you back, blocking your way in the hall

“He just fainted. You have bigger tasks at hand here. Is this how you’re planning on working here?” he hissed.

“Bill, you’re hurting me” you tried to pull your arm back as he looked around in annoyance from any attention you might be drawing.

“You’ve exhausted your monthly leaves and I just assigned you some important work even though we all know how you…” he snarled, unable to say it.

“Mighty kind of you” you spat back “To assign me work you’re supposed to do in the first place. Maybe you'd have more time if you weren't gossiping about me in office all the time.” Unnerved, he just glared down at you as you steeled yourself.

“You’re either letting go of me right now… or I’m going to leave you a bloody mess. Unlike yours, my son needs me and I’m not letting your sorry ass get in my way” you thinned your lips in a scowl, baring teeth. That seemed to do the trick as Bill unhooked his hand from your arm.

You stepped on the pedal, weaving and rushing through familiar streets as best you could. Abby had tried your number several times since you rushed from office, leaving a message saying “Dylan’s okay. We’re at my house. Please, don’t worry.” How can I not?? you screeched around a car moving out of park as it nearly slammed into you.

Your baby boy had burned himself out, trying to do Lord knows what and you saw all the signs. You had tried getting to him but you failed each time. You're a failed wife. And now a failed mother. The accusatory screams echoed around in your head till they became one united blare, bursting at your temples. You parked up Abby’s drive-through, rushing out the car and up the front door, banging it down.

At Abby's home

Abby opened the latch, her eyes hollowed, and her ponytail loose. You pushed past her “Where is he?” you threw a glance around the staid living room, lace doily on the television and a leather sofa. Old fashioned like it was stuck in time. “Where is he??” you raised your voice in urgency. Trophies and certificates sat on special shelves, jersey’s framed on the wall in clear glass, a tin of pre-workout pile, dumbbells stood along the wall by size. MCAT prep books sat in a heavy stack on the table.

“Shh… he’s sleeping upstairs” Abby called after as you hurried up the stairs, opening the first room on the right to find him safely bundled in a baby blue blanket. His face peeked out from under it and he looked the most peaceful you’d ever seen him. You began to step inside but Abby held you back with a gentle arm around the waist “Please.”

Your face twisted with contempt, bounding back down the stairs and into the living room before turning around to face her “Why’d you bring him here?” you pointed upstairs in upset, voice terribly shaky. “Angie…” Abby tried to placate you, reaching for your outstretched arm “He couldn’t defend a goal and panicked really hard. He needed to breathe... he needed rest.”

“And you brought him here?” you pulled out of her reach to which Abby deadened her eyes “I took care of my dad till the day he died… I can trust myself to take care of him." “And me? I should trust you too?” you pitched your voice, watching her face fall. “Why are you doing this?” Abby asked, hurt and confused.

“What? Worrying about some stranger taking my son home??”

“I’m no stranger”

“Sorry, my bad. You’re basically Dylan’s dad now. I should just fall to my knees and worship you. Since you’re saving our broken fucking family! My fucking savior” you spat each word out with more vitriol than the last, eyes stinging painfully.

Abby seemed equally disturbed, slowly shaking her head as she blinked fast “Angie… I understand you’re in pain.”

“You understand my pain?” you chuckled, nearly choking from how badly your throat was trying to close “Y-you understand how my stomach hurts from all the knots? Or how much my s-son hates me? That my family wouldn’t take me back? Or how I’m not allowed at church anymore?” Abby lowered her eyes, lips pressed to hide their quiver as she let you unravel.

“Maybe you’ll understand how the other moms say I have std’s… how my colleagues hit on me saying I’m s-spoiled goods, or maybe how my in-laws tear me apart at every court visit” you practically lunged at her, grabbing the front of her t-shirt, “Do you understand that all I wanted was to be LOVED and I BROKE my bones trying to love him in hopes he’d love me back… and HE NEVER DID.” Tears squeezed out your eyes, pouring down your cheeks.

Abby enveloped you in her arms as you broke down entirely, body going limp from the relief of spitting out all the agony coiled deep inside you. Unburdened. At long last. You screwed your eyes shut painfully as you felt her tighten her grip around your waist, hand cradling the back of your head, stroking gently.

You felt her chest rise irregularly; her breath jagged from your words. The front of her t-shirt turned dark from your bleeding mascara. You relaxed your fingers over her chest, peering up at her forlorn face. “Are you mad at me?” Abby asked softly and you shook your head, tears dripping down your cheek “No… I’m scared” you sobbed and she brought her hand to your cheek, pressing a thumb to your lips.

“We’re safe… it’s just us” Abby whispered close to your forehead, the blue in her eyes growing deeper with all the love she had for you. You tensed, raising your lips to meet hers. You pecked her ever so gently. A tender apology. Abby’s hands ached from sheer restraint, tugging you back in for a deeper kiss. You tilted your face, whimpering as she forced your lips open with her tongue. Soft and wet as it slipped deep. Past the hesitation of doing wrong, you gave in entirely. Your hands dragged up her chest, hooking around her neck as you kissed her back, leaving her lips red with lipstick smears to match the flush on her cheeks. Before long, Abby had hoisted you on her hips, hands cupping your butt as you nuzzled into her neck. Your heels clattered to the floor. The scent of her sweat made you squirm around her even more.

You fell back on the couch. Her on top, pinning you down. You dropped your gaze down her front and she chuckled ever so softly. Voice low. With a quick yank, she pulled her t-shirt off her chest, stretching them over her broad shoulders. You bit your lip, staring at the veins throbbing along her waist, the deep v-cut leading inside her shorts. Your lids grew heavy with passion, running your nails up her smooth abs and cupping her silky breasts.

“I wanted to do this the day I met you” Abby groaned, fingers fussing with your first few shirt buttons, ripping the rest off as you gasped from the shock. “God” she nestled into your ample cleavage, inhaling your perfume as she kissed the tops of your breasts.

You wound your fingers into her ponytail, throwing your head back as she lowered the lace cups covering you, rubbing your nipples. Making them more sensitive. “Abby…” you mumbled into her hair as she began to tug and suck on them. You gripped her bare back with a hand, slipping the other low to push her shorts down, exposing the elastic of her underwear… the sight of her happy trail and lean hips left you panting in place.

Her back muscles rippled below your fingers, nails digging into her soft skin. Abby tugged your shirt off, leaving it draped on the couch arm as she ran her tongue down to your navel, slowly pushing your skirt past your hips. “Let me take them of-” she desperately tore your pantyhose mid-sentence, eyes affixed on the milky patch staining the narrow strip of fabric covering your pussy.

“I’m sick” you whined, covering your face as Abby slipped a thumb inside your crotch, slowly rubbing along your sticky folds, dipping ever so slightly into your entrance. It oozed on her thumb. She smiled at the way you closed around her. Teasing you. “I’m sick too” she raised her soaked thumb to her lips, dragging it across her tongue “I think we’re just right for each other.”

She took your hands away from your face, pinning them above your head “I wanted to ruin you in my office that day” she confessed, stroking the lace trim of your bra, caressing you with your eyes. “I wanted to straddle you in the booth at that diner” you admitted breathily, digging your thighs into her sides as she chuckled.

Abby’s voice trickled beneath your skin as you pushed her shorts down, slipping a hand below to cup her groin, the other squeezing her butt. Her pussy was plump and warm. Dripping wet. You slid over her slippery lips, her swollen clit. You giggled, watching her lose composure as you rubbed a circle around it, feeling it throb even harder.

“I want to feel it” you bucked your hips eagerly, back arched as she snuck out of her shorts and underwear. You hungrily stared at what the happy trail had been leading down to, offset by her massive, perfectly built thighs. You fell limp, legs open for her use as she pulled your panties aside, drawing out wet strings from your sopping pussy. You cried out softly as she ripped them at the seams, leaving you exposed. Dragging you forward, she raised your leg up on her shoulder, edging herself into you.

The skin on skin made you delirious, throbbing and snaking as she pulled you even closer. She held you in place with her hand on your ankle. Unable to inch away from where you eclipsed, rubbing and griding earnestly, the sounds getting louder. Wetter. You gripped her forearm, nails raking her skin, feeling the steady rhythm of your hips rocking, her abs dully slapping your inner thigh.

You bit your tongue lest you screamed from the pleasure. Sex had always been such a chore to you that you’d began associating it with work. But the friction of your folds and how perfectly you fit together made you rethink everything. Made you float. Made you wonder if you could ever stop once you started. The way her body pressed into yours at all the right places. How her muscles flexed and rippled against you. How needy her face looked; lips swollen and her eyes watery.

"Fuck” you cursed softly; hips raised to meet hers as the pressure on your clit made you shake uncontrollably. You reached below to place a palm on her hip, thumb pressing onto her clit. “Angie…” Abby’s hips grew more demanding, grinding down harder, squirting until you were sticky. Your breasts bounced pathetically as you fucked senseless, eyes rolling back into your head, lashes fluttering.

Your climax came hard and slow, bursting into an involuntary spasm which you let overwhelm you, quivering and squirting in place. She followed suit, holding you firm as she came, chasing it with more strong thrusts onto you, eliciting incoherent sounds of pleasure from your lips. Abby groaned, a sound rooted deep in her belly, chest rising and falling deeper. She collapsed on top of you, heaving.

You were already burning, but something about the weighted heat healed you. Let you know for sure that you weren’t alone. That you were being touched, heard, paid attention to. You couldn't be close enough to her, if only you could nestle inside her. Abby slipped her arms underneath you, head resting on your chest as you both cooled down. The ceiling felt blurry for the longest time, yellow lit from the standing lamp in the corner.

Her voice seemed to fix the ringing in your ear “I can hear your heart” Abby mumbled, the movement of her lips tickling your breast. “I can feel yours” you smiled, tracing down her shoulder blades. Abby wriggled up, level with you as she simply gazed down. “What?” you asked gently, looking into both her eyes, dilated with love.

“Promise me you won’t regret this…” she whispered, idle hand on your cheek. Wrought with innocent longing despite all the lust. “Promise me… you won’t regret us” she kissed the corner of your lips, wiping a loose eyelash. “M-mom!” Dylan shakily called from upstairs.

“Baby!” you shot up, frazzled as you look down. Ripped clothes leaving your tits sticking out, nethers exposed. Red-faced and desperate. Shame washed over you with the effect of cold water to the face, realizing how you’d been fucking around with your son’s soccer coach when you should’ve been paying attention to him. You shimmied your skirt down, grabbing your shirt from the couch and throwing it on.

Abby got herself in order too, straightening her t-shirt, slipping on her shorts “Hold on.” “No” you insisted, doing the buttons on your shirt that still remaining, tucking the shirt inside your skirt “You stay away.” You scrunched your face in regret, tucking your loose hair up as you hurried up the stairs and into the bedroom.

Dylan sat up, looking disoriented and tired. “Sweetie” you sidle up on the bedside, pulling him into a hug “You’re, okay?”. He meekly nodded into your chest, mumbling a soft sorry. “It’s alright, baby…” you cuddle him “I’m just happy you’re safe.”

Abby hurried down behind you as made your way to the front door, holding Dylan in your arms. “Angie, wait” she tried to talk as she unlatched the front door, joining you down by the car “I’m really grateful for your help… but I need to take him home.” Abby helped open the door to the backseat, heartbroken as she watched you set Dylan down with the blanket curled on end to let him rest his head.

You shut the door turning to her “Abby, I…” you drop your words, uncomfortably crossing your arms as her face fell “You regret it” she affirmed with a quick nod of her head. “It’s not like that” you threw a glance back at Dylan, he was groggy again. “No, I get it" Abby looked defeated, deflating in exhale before she fetched a folded piece of paper from her pocket “Just wanted to give you this.” You took it quietly, biting your lip.

“She’s a child therapist… specializing in children of divorce” she stared at the road behind you, unable to meet your eyes. “Take care of him… Take care, Angie.” You caught skin from where you’d bit your lip. A sharp pain. “Thankyou” you stared at her just a second longer, reluctantly turning and getting into the driver’s seat. Abby didn’t stay back, no wave goodbye even as you kept looking in the sideview mirror. You didn’t deserve one.

Later at night

You lightly kicked open Dylan’s door, lugging in a big, steaming bowl on a wooden tray. “Big, chunky chicken noodles for my big boy” you sang, carefully setting it on his lap “Be careful, love.” Dylan smiled guiltily, accepting dinner. Too easily. “You didn’t have to, mom” he fiddled with the tray handle. “Who else will I do it for?” you shrugged, dipping the soup spoon in and bringing it to your lips to blow it cool.

“Open sesame” you fed him the first bite, raising your brows inquisitively. He gulped it down, nodding “It’s the best” he nodded “you’re the best.” You did a double take, shocked “Really?” you asked in disbelief. Dylan nodded, wiping his lips with the back of his sleeve. He paused, contemplating.

“Sorry, mom” he repeated what he said after he’d woken up at Abby’s home. “What for…?” your hand hovered midair, spoon caught between your fingers. “Coach… she talked me down when I panicked on the field today” he confessed and you lost focus, staring down at your lap. “She told me to think of you” Dylan went on “Said that you love me the most, that you’re always thinking of me… protecting me. That you're the strongest person she knows.”

Your face crumpled and you tried to hide them but the tears snuck past “I know things have changed in a way they weren’t supposed to… I haven’t done my best, baby” you tried to keep your voice level, coherent “I know your miss dad… a lot.”

“I do but I miss you more, mom” Dylan reached for your hand, “I was being mean with you because you’d changed… and I didn't know what to do.” “It’s okay, baby” you held his little hand back, turning your face to him as you smiled despite "Sometimes, we're mean when we don't understand our feelings." Dylan smiled sadly but it still felt like hope. Like all the frost had finally melted. Warm and full again. Safe and sound.

At bedtime

After doing the dishes, you headed back to your bedroom to change for the night. You slipped into satin, brushing your hair in the mirror. In the reflection, your phone sat heavy on the nightstand, like a dancing pointer. You tied your hair in a knot, walking up to it and picking it up before you could let a thought interrupt.

You called her, getting rejected immediately. The screen went red and you gulped painfully, knowing you’d fucked up. You decided to message her, punching in “Will wait for u at school reception at 8 tom… would like to talk” you sent it and thankfully it went through.

You stared at the screen, waiting for something to happen, feeling stupid after a while. A knock came at the door, and you slid your phone under the pillow. Dylan peeked inside, pillow in hand “Can I sleep here tonight?” he mumbled and you beamed, patting the side on the bed next to you.

You snuggled in, covering you both in your comforter like old times. The scent of his hair and the back of his neck took you in like an embrace, reminiscent of when it all felt so new. Cradling your new baby, the night you brought him home. Nothing had changed. The thought of the young couch sat at the back of your mind, and you stared at the wall. Thinking.

Next day at school

The concrete flooring amplified your anxious heel clicks, drawing dirty looks from the couple other parents sitting on the plastic seaters. You made a quick oops face, stilling yourself. The container on your lap was beginning to leave an imprint. The felt bag you’d brought along had fallen into your side again.

It had been 20 minutes past 8, and it was starting to look like you’d be running late for work again. Not that Bill was going to take it up with you. You zoned out on a blur before realizing it was the coach walking towards you. You nearly leapt out of your seat before remembering the contents of the Tupperware.

“I’m so happy you came” you smiled at her gladly, slowly getting to your feet. “How can I help you, Mrs. Hendricks” Abby remained stone-faced, oddly formal. “I was hoping to talk to you” you glanced at the container in your arms and the felt bag on the chair behind “… in your office.” Abby sighed, body angling away from you. With her hands in her pockets, she turned on her heels “Follow me.”

It made for a silent stroll across the poorly blueprinted building to the sports’ department. Abby walked several steps ahead, unlike last time. Her ponytail was limp, slump in her walk, keys jangled in her pocket. It reminded you of Dylan angry-marching whenever he was in a funk. Abby unlocked her office door, holding it open for you as you ambled inside.

While still amenable, she wasn’t as warm as before. Understandably so. You entered her office, aware you had to do better if you were going to halfway fix things. You set the stuff you’d brought on an available corner of her desk, reaching for the photo frame. You gently stroked the glass case, smiling at the tiny, grainy girl. White jersey clad. She had blonde pigtails, big grin on her face. The grass stains must’ve been hell to remove you chuckled to yourself.

Abby clicked the door shut, hands in pocket as she turned around, awkwardly pillared in the corner. “I talked to Dylan and we called the therapist whose number you gave me” you tried to initiate chat “She said she’d be glad to see him Sundays and… he’s willing to give her a try.” “That’s promising” Abby bit the inside of her mouth, cautiously approaching her desk.

“I got your blankie back!” you beamed, placing a hand on the carry bag “I wanted to wash it but it smelt so much like you, I didn’t have the heart to” you looked up at her “so I just lint rolled it.”

Abby wordlessly tugged at her blanket. Fuzzy from wear, spattered with stars and rockets from her childhood. You tapped the ridges of your wristwatch to drown the silence, dropping your gaze upon realizing you were losing focus on the bumpy bridge of her nose. “I made you some chicken noodle soup” you said softly, pushing the box into view “Not that canned stuff! This is my grandma’s recipe I made from scratch” you threw a glance around the office. “You have a hotcase? I can just leave it there… have it warm by lunch.”

“Angie, you didn’t have to” Abby finally uttered and your hand flew to your chin, covering your neck so she wouldn’t see you gulp painfully. “I’m sorry if I’m doing too much” you apologized softly, facing in the opposite direction from her. Abby sighed, “It’s not that. I’m not mad at you after… what happened. You don’t have to make it up to me” she whispered. “I understand if you don’t want to complicate things over a relationship. With how things are for you, it’s beyond understandable. Just… be honest” she dug a nail under the Tupperware lid, toying with the rubber.

“Okay” you stepped closer to her, steeling your voice with as much brazen as you had in you. Honest. “Last night was the most alive I’d ever felt” you confessed, feeling the immediate burn in your cheeks from confrontation but you soldiered on. Abby exhaled ever so slightly, like she’d constricted her chest too long.

You lightly pressed your arm against hers, feeling her shiver despite the jacket “I wasn’t expecting to… not this strongly at least… to develop feelings for someone” you felt yourself losing breath “I’ve been a wife and mom for so long, I forgot how it felt like to be a lover… to be loved.” Abby blew out her cheeks as she tried to look at you, blanching quick “Love’s not enough, is it?” her voice broke, sliding her hands over the edge of her desk, gripping it.

“It’s not… my marriage taught me that if nothing else” you shook your head “But what I felt with you… it wasn’t frivilous. It was pure and hopeful. It was beautiful. I didn’t know what to do with it so I abandoned it... I abandoned you. I shouldn't have.” you apologized earnestly. Abby’s breath grew labored as she visibly fought to compose herself.

“Hey” you gently pulled her before you by her sleeve, peering up into her eyes “I want this” you raised your hand, stroking her freckled cheek with the back of your fingers. Abby nuzzled into your touch, closing her eyes in relief. Lashes fluttering. Her hands returned to their familiar place on your waist as you cradled her neck, soothing the goosebumps on her skin.

“I want you” you mumbled into her chest as you felt her graze the small of your back, rubbing a soothing circle “And though I’m a single mom, with a 9-year-old. I work a boring desk job, have a messy Civic and an even messier ex. I don’t have much going for me-” “Stop that” Abby lightly scolded you. “But-” you kept your eyes low, tugging on her zipper, scraping the cool metal “Never put yourself down, you hear me?” Abby angled your chin up, pressing her forehead to yours.

“Yeah but…” you tried not to lose yourself entirely in her overtures, her lips pecking your nose, brow and cheek. She snuck across your cheekbone to your ear, tinkling your earring. “I need you to know what you’re getting into” you insisted. Abby whispered against your temple “What makes you think I don’t know?” as you weakly tried to discourage her, more for your own sake than hers “Abby…” you stifled a moan.

“And I’ll have you know…” she firmly propped you on her desk, hand curling around your bare thighs “I wouldn’t have it any other way”. She noticed something, looking down at your legs.

“I told them I hit myself with a cabinet door” you sheepishly explained, lifting your leg to show off the deep red handprint on your ankle. Abby smiled, folding her sleeve up to reveal the devilish nail scrapes on her arm “Haven’t been able to take my jacket off all day” she informed you gravely, sending a rosy blush over your cheeks.

“We’ll have to invest in quite the parka, then…” you pouted; eyes filled with faux guilt “because it will happen again” a sudden smug grin curled up on your lips. Abby’s jaw dropped, grabbing you as she vigorously nuzzled into your neck amid your giggles “Someone’s going to be explaining several curling rod incidents soon.”

To be continued (?)

[simpforchuchu]

Hi! How are you? May I please request a fic with Kamui where he gets caught sneaking around SWORD territory and badly beaten, the reader finds him and takes him to the Nameless City where she nurses him back to health? The theme is "be good to the crows, the crows will be good to you" because crows do remember faces and will give people who are nice to them random trinkets they find. In H&L, that could be saving her from some thugs or bringing her to live with one of them. No pressure, take your time! Thanks! ❤️

Crows never forget

a/n: Hello, it took too long for me to write sorry:( But it was really an amazing idea, there will be definitely a part2🫡 It is all fluffy and soft 😭 I hope you like it 🌸💕

Sorry for the grammer or spelling mistakes.English is not my main language so...

Thank you and love you 🥰

Warnings: mention of fights, blood, wounds but mostly fluffy

Dark streets had always scared the young girl. Even though she had been wandering the streets for years, she knew that the SWORD area was never safe. She was going to a nearby market to cook dinner for the kids. Even though she couldn't buy much, she wanted them to be able to eat warm meals on a cold winter day.

The weather was quite cold, she had to be quick. The moment she left the Nameless City, she had a bad feeling.

SWORD was pretty chaotic these days. She had to go back before anything happened to her.

She hadn't gone far, and as she walked down the quiet street, she saw someone fall to the ground in the narrow passage behind the containers. Even though she was undecided whether to check it out or not, she gave in to her curiosity and walked there slowly.

A masked boy, dressed in black and obviously around her age, was lying on the ground. Blood was flowing from his head and his face was injured. Even though she couldn't see his face because of his mask, she was sure she didn't know who he was.

"Hey! Are you okay?"

She asked worriedly and shook him gently. When she realized that the boy opened his eyes but could not move, she was not sure what to do.

Should she help him? Her brothers probably wouldn't like this. But she didn't want to leave him here injured.

She looked for a while to see if there was anyone around to help her. Noone was there. But the boy didn't look too heavy.

Kamui was watching the young girl with faint eyes. He should have stood up, he should have walked away from here immediately. But all his bones ached. He couldn't even move his finger. The young girl was calling out to him, but he didn't have the energy to answer.

Y/n crouched down in front of him and called out to Kamui

“Jump on my back, I will carry you.”

Kamui was looking at her in astonishment as if the young girl had just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. He never believed that this girl could carry him. But y/n was pretty confident.

“Hey, hurry up. We must leave here as soon as possible.”

Kamui knew he had no choice. Even though it hurt a lot, he sat up slightly and wrapped his arms around the young girl's neck.

He was heavy, the young boy was heavier than he looked. But y/n was determined. She would carry him to a safe place, albeit slowly.

***

Despite all the stares of the people around, Y/n brought the young boy to the Nameless City. Kamui knew that the young girl could be in a difficult situation. He had regained some of his strength. He gently touched y/n's shoulder

“You can put me down, you must be very tired.”

Y/n giggled.

“I'm not very weak. Don't worry, we're almost there."

Kamui was listening to the young girl with fascination. She was both strong and fearless. He was also feeling quite embarrassed.

Not much time had passed, when y/n walked the streets of the Nameless City for a while, her brothers blocked her path.

“Rude Boys” y/n stopped her steps when Kamui whispered in surprise. Of course, they couldn't pass through here without being seen by them.

Kamui slowly landed on the ground, but y/n immediately took his arm. The young boy looked pretty bad for standing.

“Y/n, who is this?”

When Takeshi approached the young girl and asked, Kamui shivered as he looked at the man in front of them. SWORD was much more than their little games.

“I don't know who he is” y/n replied calmly. “I found him injured on the street.”

Kamui looked at the young girl's answer. Yes, it was true, but was now the right time to be so honest?

Takeshi didn't react. He didn't want to shout at the young girl. Everyone loved y/n. He also loved the young girl very much. But he couldn't allow a stranger to enter the city.

“I can't allow this y/n, you have to leave him where you found him.”

“Hey, stop talking about him like he's a puppy.”

The young girl wanted to erase her brothers' seriousness by making a joke, but she wasn’t successful.

“Y/n, Im telling you for the last time-“

"Me too. I want to help him. He's just a boy around my age."

When the young girl raised her voice at Takeshi, P intervened. He was always more understanding.

“Y/n, you know the rules of the city. You don't even know who he is. I'm sorry, but we can't allow this."

Even though P spoke in a soft tone of voice, his authoritarian attitude was clear. Kamui didn't know what to do. He knew that he had really put the young girl in a difficult situation. But he didn't ask her for help.

As the argument between Y/n and the Rude Boys continued, a voice everyone recognized was heard. When Kamui looked at who the deep but sweet voice was coming from, he didn't expect to see the famous leader of the Rude Boys.

Of course he knew him. The famous Smoky. He knew he would do anything to protect his family. So he couldn't help but wonder what he would do to him right now.

“Y/n-chan… is he your friend?”

With Smoky's question, everyone turned to him. Y/n looked at the boy on her arm who couldn't even stand and smiled.

“Will you believe me if I say yes, Smoky-nii?”

Y/n was a sweet girl. She had never done anything to put her family at risk. She cared about everyone as much as Smoky. But Smoky knew she was still a kid. Of course she could make mistakes

“Y/n, I've known you almost since you were born. Of course, I know that when you want to lie, you start mocking.”

Y/n smiled but Smoky wasn't smiling.

“I'm sorry, I can't allow this.”

"Then I'll go with him too."

With the young girl's sentence, there was a deep silence. Smoky knew her well. He knew she could really do it. He didn't like the determined look in her eyes.

When Y/n looked into her brother's eyes, Smoky sighed even though Takeshi and P protested. He nodded and took a few steps closer to Y/n and Kamui

“Okay, but we won't take responsibility for him. Please don't disappoint me, kiddo.”

Y/n smiled and nodded. Even if she was making a mistake, she would figure it out before anyone else. But she still trusted the boy she had met half an hour ago.

***

After Smoky’s permission to the young girl, P did not want her to suffer any more and took Kamui on his back. After walking for a while, they entered the building where y/n was staying. After placing Kamui harshly on the bed, he gave the young boy a threatening look and turned to the young girl.

“One of the boys will also stay here for the night. If there is a problem, don't forget to call us.”

Y/n smiled and nodded at the soft-hearted boy.

“Thank you nii-chan, don't worry.”

P patted the young girl's head and took one last look at the boy who was watching them with weak eyes on the bed and left.

Y/n looked at the young boy after P left and smiled. The mask on his face was still there.

“I won't ask who you are.”

Kamui whispered.

"Thank you"

Y/n could tell from his voice that he was still in pain.

“I'll find something to clean your wounds. Don't go anywhere okay? Although I don't think you can go, but-"

Y/n giggled at what she said and left the room. She knew that there was a first aid kit in one of the old cabinets inside the building. She quickly started looking for it.

After a while, she returned to the room with the kit she found. But she noticed that the boy in the bed had already fallen asleep.

***

When Kamui woke up in the morning, he could feel his whole body aching. He was surprised to realize that the mask on his face was still there. He looked around and looked for the young girl, but the room was empty.

Even though it hurt, he stood up and looked at himself in the broken mirror on the wall. He had bruises and band-aids on his face. Someone had cleaned his wounds. When he pulled down his mask and looked at his face, he realized that the mask had never been removed and smiled.

Didn't she really wonder who he was?

He lay on the bed in the room and thought for a while. Should he go? But he wanted to thank the young girl. Were his friends worried about him? They would probably be very angry.

While he was lost in his thoughts, he did not notice the young girl entering the room. When he noticed the girl looking at him with a tray in her hand, he turned to her.

The young girl looked confused for a while, then smiled. Kamui was trying to understand what she was surprised about. Immediately afterwards, he realized that his mask was not on his face.

“Didn't you really take off my mask yesterday?”

Y/n laughed and shook her head.

“You were injured, I didn't want to take it out without your permission. This is SWORD, everyone has a valid reason to hide their personality.”

Kamui smiled, surprised by how thoughtful the young girl was.

“You must be hungry, I brought warm soup for you.”

Kamui looked at the tray in the girl's hand and slowly sat up in bed. His whole body still ached.

“Kamui, Kamui Ito.”

The young girl sat on the chair next to the bed and handed the tray to the boy. She smiled.

“Y/n, but you probably already know my name.”

Kamui laughed and shook his head. The smell of the soup on the tray made him realize how hungry he was.

“I… thank you. I will never forget what you truly did for me.”

Y/n smiled at the boy who shyly tried to thank her. The scars on his face were obvious, but he had a very sweet face. For a moment she realized that she had been staring at his face for too long and looked away. Kamui had done the same thing.

“I better go now, I don't want to cause you any more problems.”

Y/n laughed.

“If you are still tired, you can rest, but if you want to go, I can walk with you.”

Kamui laughed.

“I may look pretty weak, but I'm not bad at fighting.”

Y/n giggled and shook her head.

“I don't think Suzuran students are weak, I just wanted to say goodbye to you.”

Kamui was embarrassed by the sentence the young girl said sweetly, he even thought his cheeks were turning red. But then he realized what the young girl said.

“You… How do you know that I am from Suzuran?”

Y/n smiled and nodded.

“I hope you don't think you're the only one who knows something.”

Kamui frowned when he realized that the young girl was much more mysterious than she seemed, now he was even more curious about who she was. But he left that for later, he had to enjoy the short moment he could spend with her right now.

He took a spoonful of his soup and relaxed with the warmth entering his body. Y/n smiled as she watched him. He knew that the boy sitting in front of her was a very dangerous person, despite his innocent face. She didn't need to know him completely to know that. But she didn't want to think about that right now, she had to enjoy the little moment she could spend with him.

HnL taglist : @straysugzhpe @tiddly-winx @ninamarie1994 @emperorsnero @koala-yuna @little-miss-naill @materialprincess01

[nkplanet]

WON’T LET YOU DOWN (AGAIN) : nmr smau

<- prev : walk away : next ->

back to mlist wc: 500-600

it seemed like riki was appearing everywhere after you’d blocked him. all of a sudden he was in your english class, he was bumping into you in the hallways, he caught the same bus home as you. you couldn't escape him. so instead, you began going places with your friends. every time riki tried to talk to you, he was shut down or glared at by one of your friends. your personal favourite was yunjin's way of deterring him, which involved a series of rude gestures and a "fuck off."

riki, on the other hand, was trying tirelessly to find a way to talk to you. aside from the fact that he'd been seeking you out in the school corridors, he now realised that you were in his english class and caught the same bus as him. it was like his eyes now searched for you wherever he went, seeking you out in the hopes of explaining himself and apologising. he truly never meant to hurt you. he just didn't have much choice in whether he moved or not, and didn't have the courage to tell you or break up with you.

he spotted you by yourself a week after yunjin's last attack, standing by your locker. you were clearly waiting for someone.

he wandered over, leaving a decent distance between the two of you in case he made you uncomfortable. "y/n," he said, clearing his throat, "please." "fuck off, riki," you replied, not even sparing him a glance.

ouch. as much as he deserved that, it still hurt.

"please, you don't have to talk. you don't even have to look at me. just listen." you turned your head, glaring at him but not saying anything, so he continued. "i want to apololgise. i know what i did was awful, and i probably hurt you really badly, but i had to move. it was because of my grandma, and i couldn't stay here." you sighed, turning fully to face him. "i don't understand why you couldn't just tell me that two years ago. you broke my heart," you said. "i know. i'm really sorry," he replied sheepishly, looking down. "listen, i remember how much your grandma meant to you. i'm still really hurt, and despite how much i want to, i don't think i'll ever be able to fully forgive you. but i get why you had to move," you told him, reaching into your locker for a textbook.

riki sighed as a weight lifted off his shoulders. "thank you."

“that doesn’t mean i accept your apology. you still suck, just slightly less now.”

“i know. you don’t have to accept it, i just wanted you to know. i’ve wanted you to know for two years but i didn’t have the balls to contact you.”

you sighed, looking him in the eyes, “if you’d even do much as shot me a text it would have been better than ghosting me. it really hurt, you know?”

he looked back at you, saying a heartfelt, “i’m sorry.”

"i guess i have to unblock you now, huh?" you said, giving him a small smile. he laughed in return as a crowd of students headed your way.

yunjin emerged from the crowd, looking scarier than ever. "hey, nishimura," she said, pointing at him, "what did i tell you? walk away."

riki walked away from you, feeling the best he'd felt since seeing you again for the first time. you might not be friends again, but at least you knew why he'd left, and he'd take what he could get.

NOTE : remember that backbone that y/n had in the last chapter lol

TAGLIST : CLOSED : @yvjw @k1ttylvr @soobs-things @daniels-hlini @asteria-wood @eneiyri @sel1uv @tzuyusluv @natalunae @eleanorheartschishiya @candyhere @ttylxox2

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[queenshelby]

Our Little Secret (Part 13)

Pairing: Dark! Cillian Murphy x Virgin! Reader

Warning: Infidelity, Brief Mention of Stillbirth

Notes: This will not be a love story. It will be dark, twisted and kinky. Cillian is portrayed as totally off cannon.

Two weeks had passed and you had almost moved on with your life which did not involve your family. 

Your mother had kicked you out of her own house following your tryst with Cillian. But as luck would have it, your cousin Lukas had offered you a place to stay after Emma's parents too would not allow you to remain at their family home for more than a week.

You had to find a job quickly to sustain yourself and fortunately, you managed to secure employment at a local bookstore. The hours were flexible, and they paid decently, making your living situation somewhat manageable under these circumstances.

School, however, had to give way to your new lifestyle and you chose to transfer to college in the evening in an attempt to finish your education.

As far as Cillian was concerned, you had not heard from him since that afternoon, leaving you in a state of limbo regarding your relationship status with him.

From the local papers, you since learned that he had finally left Danielle and was now publicly fighting for custody of his son Max who the columns claimed was not his actual son at all.

Yet none of this mattered as you sat there staring blankly into space, haunted by memories and regret. Overwhelmed by guilt and confusion, you tried to block out the past few months - how you became entangled in such a mess with no future, only moments spent locked away from the world. But, it wasn’t easy. It felt as though the entire universe conspired to punish you for daring to experience passion beyond societal norms, yet you continued searching deep inside yourself for answers that wouldn't come easily.

You were pregnant with Cillian's child and an abortion was not currently something you could afford emotionally nor financially, forcing you to confront your reality alone. For the first time in years, the choices you made seemed to echo hollowly in your ears as you attempted to navigate this complex web of deceit, betrayal, and self-discovery.

"Em, I do not know what to do," you admitted honestly, breaking down in tears as she visited you, just like she did every day after you finished work. 

Emma pulled you close, offering comfort as she held you tight.

"We're going to figure this out together," she assured you reassuringly, wiping away your tears. "But I honestly think that you need to tell Cillian," Emma added cautiously. "He has a right to know."

Her advice struck a chord in you, causing you to sit upright and nod thoughtfully.

"I asked him if he could meet, about a week ago, and he never got back to me, Em!" you said, feeling worthless and unwanted.

"He is going through a lot himself and he doesn't know about you carrying his child. Maybe you should try and give him a call again?" Emma interjected, attempting to mediate.

Despite Emma's suggestion, you remained hesitant, unsure whether reaching out to Cillian was the right decision. Nevertheless, you decided to pick up your phone and call him regardless of the consequences.

After a series of rings, someone else picked up on the other end – a stranger.

“Hello, can I speak to Cillian please?” you asked politely, trying hard to maintain composure amidst growing anxiety.

"Who am I speaking to?" replied the unfamiliar voice, curiosity evident in her tone.

”This is Y/N and I really need to speak with him,” you introduced yourself, taking a deep breath in preparation for what might follow. “Is Cillian available, please?” you begged and, just after you did, there was silence on the line for several seconds before the woman spoke up again.

"So, you are the homewrecker?" she snarled bitterly, anger radiating from her voice.

You flinched upon hearing those harsh words directed at you. You didn't expect the person answering Cillian's phone to actually know who you were, but then again, you did not know about the woman on the other line either.

"Listen, my brother isn't available. Don't call again. Please don't bother him anymore," came the venomous reply. Taken aback by the hostility, you couldn't understand why she reacted so aggressively when you hadn't even spoken poorly of Cillian. After a momentary pause, you found your voice.

"Actually, it's important we talk, whether you like it or not," you stated resolutely, ignoring the sharp edge in her voice. There was another brief silence followed by a mocking laughter that broke the air.

"Listen sweetheart, Cillian is going through legal proceedings against his wife, Danielle, because of you. He should not be speaking to you and if you call this phone again, I will provide you with a cease-and-desist letter on my brother's behalf. Any further contact will be considered as harassment, " she threatened ominously making you realise that the woman on the other end of the line was not only Cillian's sister, but also his solicitor, handling his custody case. 

You recalled having met her at the funeral a few weeks ago. Her name was Alison and she worked at one of the largest law firms in Dublin. 

As the conversation progressed, it became apparent that she despised you with an intensity that took you off guard. To make matters worse, she insisted you ceased communication with Cillian altogether. This was problematic considering she served as both Cillian's attorney and sister, putting her in a unique and potentially influential position.

You struggled to comprehend the full extent of your predicament until now. How were you supposed to inform Cillian about the child growing inside you without incurring the wrath of his sister?

It appeared impossible. Nonetheless, you had to reach out somehow, eventually, and hope for understanding from both sides despite their conflicted history.

As days turned into weeks, you grew increasingly anxious and restless, worrying constantly about how you were going to break the news to Cillian as the dire three-month mark drew nearer and you had yet another appointment with a local social worker to discuss your situation.

She offered you both, a community funded loan to carry out the procedure you needed or the option of putting you in touch with an adoption agency so that, further down the track, you could give up your child if you desired to do so.

Although it may seem cruel, it seemed practical and logical in light of your situation and, in the end, even Emma agreed with you on that front. The idea that you could choose whether or not to become a parent appealed to your desire for control over your destiny. However, this was easier said than done. Having a baby meant drastically altering your course forever, but you also knew that, not having the baby, might cause you regret. 

The choice loomed large, casting its shadow over your daily existence. You frequently found yourself pondering the gravity of your options while walking along the quiet streets surrounding your temporary residence late at night. You often stopped in your tracks, contemplating your fate as a result of your irresponsible actions.

Life seemed determined to play itself out according to the chaos you created. Every passing day brought you closer to facing the inevitable truth and this truth was now something you had to confront by yourself. Without the man who caused all this by your site. 

Tags:

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[whore-ibly-hot]

💚👻Yan!Harold Biddle Hc's💚👻

"Viewer beware, you're in for a scare."

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Yandere themes, dark behavior, possession, general spooks, serial killer, bullying, angst teen ghost boy?

AN: Requested by an Anon, this man has me down so bad, and I hope this inspires others to write for him. I love both old and new goosebumps media, and how our reader meets Harold is VERY similar to the goosebumps TV show episode 'The Phantom of the Opera'. Enjoy and happy belated Halloween! Go watch Goosebumps on Disney ➕️. Never done an HC before...

👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚

💚In a situation for Harold to grow truly attached to someone, you would have to be from out of town, or visiting a family member, perhaps. Harold is filled with such hatred for his former classmates and there spawn, that even those who didn't kill him, he knows stood idly by and ignored him in school. Because of this, he probably wouldn't want the son or daughter of a former classmate.

👻Maybe you moved to Port Lawrence with your family, whether for work or a fresh start, or maybe your a distant cousin of one of the people in town. As long as you aren't a direct descendant, Harold will have an easier time coming to terms with these feelings.

💚Being new in town was hard for you, nerve wracking even. Everyone at this school seemed to have a clique or group, and even the loners had their own things going on. Luckily, you caught wind through overhearing some classmates that a party was being held on Halloween night. Hoping to make some real friends, you donned a costume and set out.

👻The address had been kind of hard to find, some old, blocked off road with a creepy mansion at the end. Still, the party was in full swing, teens dancing and drinking, strobe lights and shitty music filled the main room of the house. You asked one of your classmates, Lucas, about the house.

"Oh, yeah. Some kid died here like, a hundred years ago or something. Big explosions, a fire..." A skinnier boy in a cat costume cut him off. "Don't listen to Lucas, it wasn't a hundred years ago, dude. It was like, the 90s." He rolls his eyes.

💚A little uneasy about sneaking into a house, much more the site of a gruesome death, you tried to enjoy the party. After a few drinks, Dr. Pepper, you weren't trying to call your parents to take you home, you went looking for a bathroom.

This would prove pretty difficult. That same boy from earlier, Lucas, ate worms, and was puking in bathroom number one. The second bathroom was locked, and from the groaning and smacking inside, you could tell you didn't want to know what was going on inside.

👻This had left you with not choice but to go to the bathroom in the basement. Standing at the edge of the stairs and looking down the dark hallway, floored with rickety wooden steps, you had gathered your courage and descended.

💚Biddle had expected company, but unlike the mask he coerced Isabella into taking, or the camera he snuck in Isaac's bag, you didn't take anything. He waited for another, foolish teen to take something. He had a few items set out for specific peoples... but, he wasn't against another thief falling victim to his cursed items.

👻However, you surprised him. Just looked for the bathroom door, went, and then headed right back up to the party. When Mr. Bratt came home, the teens scattered, to cars and into the woods. Harold used this time to torment Allison, his burned, ghostly form shrieking at her. She had screamed in terror, and Isaiah soon found her.

💚You were driving home, but took pity and stopped to help a few of your classmates whose rides had fled. After several hours of dropping people off, you were finally able to get back home. A pair of pale ghostly eyes watched you from the window of your room. No one else had stopped to help their friends, much less strangers. How nice you were...

💚As days went by, and mysterious terrors afflicted the teens of Port Lawrence, you grew close to some of them. A busy body named Margot, a cheer leader named Allison, and a jock named Isaiah. All shared and English class with the new teacher (and owner of the Biddle house), Mr. Bratt. Mr. Bratt was odder at sometimes than others, almost like he was fighting with himself. He was always tired and dark eyed.

👻From deep inside, viewing the world through Mr. Bratt, Harold would observe the teens. It was just as he remembered it, the gossip, the catty looks and the fake smiles. But nothing sickened him more than watching you interact with the others, so sweet and kind, but only friends with the filth in this town.

👻On your end, you really liked Mr. Bratt. He was a funny teacher, always cracking jokes and saying something odd. He always gave you perfect grades, which was odd because you noticed you had gotten a few questions wrong when you would compare projects and assignments to classmates. Still, he was a great teacher.

💚Harold wasn't a fool. He had always been smart when he was alive, and his evil intentions had made him no less cunning. He knows he can't pursue you romantically as long as he's possessing a teacher. He'd rather not get his possession vessel arrested and sent to jail. He doesn't want his house empty, not right now.

👻When he heard you had taken up the role of a tech member for the drama department, he formed a plan. The old elevator platform to the schools abandoned basement was 'accidentally' left open, a gaping hole in the dark of the stage.

💚You unfortunately weren't aware of this, and had stayed late to finish some lighting set up. As you close up and turn out the overhead lights, the floor had felt as those it disappeared beneath you. As you plummet, you let out a pitch scream. It wasn't a long fall, not even that deep, but it hurt. Your hips and ankle were aching, throbbing, and red hot tears had begun to stream from your cheeks. You felt to scared to stand or move, but it was late. How were you supposed to get out of here?

👻As you whimpered, you heard a sound in the silence. Just then, a sound from the side. It sounded like a creaking floor panel.

"H-hello? Is someone there?" You called out fearfully. A boy, haired curly and tall looms over you. His eyes have dark circles, his face almost blends into the shadows of the basement, but... you chalk it up to blurry vision and bad lighting.

💚"Aw... how'd you end up down here?" He asked, voice low and slow as he had tilted his head. "I'm on tech crew, I fell. I think my ankle is... twisted or something. Could you help me?" She asks.

"Of course..." he drawled. His eyes darkened and a grin tugged at his cheeks as he said the next statement. "What kind of sick, sick monster would leave someone to die in a basement, all alone?" He said. You gulp and chuckle awkwardly. "Well, it's just my ankle. Don't think I'm dying." You joked.

👻"Course not. Come on." He had extended his hand to you, and hoisted you up against him with surprising strength. Despite the soft flannel shirt he was wearing, his skin felt frigid to the touch, yet oddly warm, an icey burning sensation could be felt where his hand was still on your arm.

"Should be a lever... right over-" he looks around, the snaps his fingers and points. "Right there." You had both hopped on the platform. "How'd you know how to get out of the basement, I heard it's been blocked off like, forever." She asks.

💚"I guess I just, know more than other people." He shrugs. Once he had helped you out of the school, you had gone to your car. Fidgeting with your keys, you faced away from him as you unlocked your car. "What did you say your name was?" You ask.

👻"Doesn't matter. Just a friend." When you turn to him with a confused look, he's gone. You looked around, but tired, you drove from the lot.

💚Back at the Biddle Manor, while Mr. Bratt tried to get a peaceful night of sleep without being possessed for once, Harold is in the basement, playing with the Polaroid camera Isaiah had tried so hard to destroy. He wonders, can it just take normal photos if he wills it too? He has other things to attend too, he can't always watch you, but he'd love a few pictures of you.

👻Even if the camera could only take pictures of your fate, maybe it wouldn't bother him too much. What would the future hold? Would you be with him? He hoped so, but the idea of what he could see that would displease him swayed him away from that path. No, he'll stick to watching you through Bratt, when he can, or through your windows on those precious nights you leave a curtain open.

💚As he sits in the room of his demise, he looks at his hands, black char marks occasionally appearing. For once, he doesn't focus on the burning rage and actual burning feeling that courses through his body. No, this warmth is softer. The warmth from when you touched him and he touched you. Contact, from someone who cared. Someone who he saw every private moment of, just to ensure that you had only pure intentions with everyone you met. Would you betray him if you knew, what he was like, who he was? He shakes his head. No. He holds all the cards now. He won't be weak ever again, he won't let you slip away.

👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚

General bonus hc's:

💚Harold only wears what teens at Port Lawrence high now think of as 'grunge'. Oversized sweatshirt, flannels, loose pants. He has never once brushed his hair, even when he was alive. He doesn't hate that grunge is popular now though. He enjoy leaving a flannel or a Jean jacket in your closet, hoping you'll assume one of your parents gifted it to you.

👻You can always tell when his ghost in nearby, even if he's not visible there are tells, even if you don't realize what they are pointing too. You might feel a stinging if he passes by, a side effect of the pain from his burns. The smell of smoke and dark room chemicals fills the air if he's around, and you feel like your being watched.

💚He'd like to kiss you, or hold you, but he's not ready to even attempt that, much less a real introduction. He's got a lot going on right now. For now, you'll only see him around town, at night when your alone. At a bus stop? Oh, that mysterious boy from the other night us passing by. Buying a snack? He's got some spare cash. Walking home alone at night? Good thing his lanky silhouette can be seen leaning out from under a streetlight. Don't worry, he'll walk you home. You wouldn't believe the sort of monsters that live in this town, that lurk. It's enough to give you goosebumps...

You wonder why you always forget to ask his name...

[bookwyrminspiration]

ok not to alvar post in your inbox again but liek.

“You want to talk about being left for dead?” Alvar lunged forward, but Sandor and Ro shifted their blades to block him. “ I was left in a pod of orange goo while my brother and sister stood by watching! The same brother who threatened to carve me up with a knife earlier that night! The brother who stopped pressing buttons to try to save me as the pod filled up—did he tell you that? He let the tank fill, waiting for me to drown” (632).

this excerpt makes me want to eat concrete in a good way. we love to talk about fitz stopping pressing buttons, but the way alvar is angry at fitz for stopping isn’t really talked about as much as it could be i think.

i always thought it was so funny because alvar was given the chance to change and come back from what he did throughout flashback. and when his memories came back, he made his choice to turn his back on his family, but he’s mad when said family turns their back on him in return. but i rlly wanted to hear your thoughts on this because you’re one of the most ardent buttonsposters on this site

this is FASCINATING. Okay, so. Looking at Alvar's familial feelings, a lot of his hatred is centered on his parents. He felt drowned in unrealistic expectations he could never live up to as the only Vacker kid, and saw Fitz as a replacement, his parents saying he'd never be good enough. Whether this is true isn't really relevant, as it's how he took it

Fitz ends up in a weird cross section here where he hasn't actually done anything to Alvar but exist. Alvar hates Fitz for replacing him, but it was their parents that chose to have him. Everything Alvar hates about Fitz is a manifestation of his resentment for Alden and Della.

Fitz is the perfect golden boy. A telepath like their father, the youngest to naturally manifest at that. Replaced Alvar in looking for Sophie--actually found her when Alvar passed her by. Fitz enrages Alvar for being everything he thinks their parents wanted that he wasn't

But Fitz doesn't have to be. I think that's key. Fitz could throw it all away, stop being perfect, drown under the pressure like Alvar did, and join him. And I think Alvar wants him to. Then he wouldn't be replaced, and instead Fitz could serve as evidence of how horrible their parents were. If Fitz breaks, too, then the problem wasn't with Alvar

And yet he isn't. FItz is choosing, again and again, his family. His parents. To be on the opposite side. Which means he's now making an active choice to become the replacement he inadvertently always was, proving the problem's with Alvar. Which means Alvar can hate him for being himself now. He's just like them, and he's turning their sister, too. The little sister who was the most likely to get him--so when she doesn't? They're blinded, representing everything wrong with their world. The expectations, the indoctrination of the next generations, everything

Alvar is desperate to be the one hurting. He grew up incredibly privileged and only talks of the burden it was. Keefe said Umber was left for dead and he immediately lashes back with this quote, talking about how he's been hurt just as much if not more because he got gooed. And not only that, his family gooed him.

Which reveals he does value family to an extent. If it's worse to be hurt by your siblings, it's because they matter more. Again, everything Alvar hates is centered on their parents. Fitz and Biana were supposed to choose him, to see his pain and understand him, leave their parents behind. They're siblings, even if they're bratty and naive.

We see that in the repetition of brother before each point; he's highlighting the connection they should've had--and blaming its dissolution on Fitz. A little on Biana, but mostly on Fitz, as Fitz was the replacement and the spark to the fuel of Alvar's suffering. The last straw. He's furious. And frames everything as if its unbelievable.

Which implies, potentially, that he wouldn't do the same. That he wouldn't take a knife to his sister, or watch his brother drown. That for all his talk, he sees them as different from their parents and that they matter, deep down.

I think Alvar is desperate to have his pain acknowledged, to be seen and understood, which is a valid desire. But he has blown it entirely out of proportion in his quest to be seen--and his siblings were his main hope. Who better to understand what being a Vacker kid did to him than the other Vacker kids? But because of that blowing it out of proportion, even though they're all Vacker kids, they can't understand. Because Alvar's reaction is illogical. He's in the wrong, and he refuses to understand or realize that because there's kernels of validity to his feelings.

so he's simultaneously furious at Fitz for replacing him, being everything he wasn't, and not choosing him, and desperate to be seen and acknowledged and understood by him and Biana.

basically Alvar's a clusterfuck of complications of a man

[gummyfang]

♡♡♡ |   ˗ˏˋ Passing Stars || Chapter 1  ´ˎ˗

➳　【 C a p t a i n　Ｒ e x　ｘ　Ｒｅａｄｅｒ】

❧ Warnings: 𝐠/𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 / 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐟𝐡), 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧-𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲/𝐰𝐚𝐫

[ 4.0𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 ]

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬:  first multi-part series. clone fever hit hard. i'm actually really happy with this for a change. This chapter is the set-up for the conflict at hand :) im currently on s6 of TCW and AUFHHGHH i just got past the Fives arc. im a bit insane atm. anyways ENJOYY

“I promise, you will get your rifle back when you leave the premises. It’s just procedure- you’re not authorized to carry any weapons into the Jedi Temple.”

You gritted your teeth at the Guard blocking your path as firmly held onto your sniper rifle, as if he’d have to pluck it from your cold dead hands if he wanted to take it from you. 

Despite your stubborn attitude, you knew your faux little display of rebellion was a losing battle. As much as you refused to trust the Jedi, you were left with little choice but to go to them for help. 

There was very little on your planet for you to return to, other than the remnants of the cities the Separatist forces had quietly seized for themselves. A sparsely populated planet circling a neutron star, right near the outer edge of the mid rim. Nothing remarkable on its own, but full of mining communities ripe for the Separatists to exploit for their excessive droid production.

For as far as you knew, you were the only one who’d been able to penetrate the blockade.

You sniffed, still agitated as you dropped the sniper rifle into the storage bin. The thought of the poor working conditions your people were being put through to mine materials for those bastards was enough to temporarily put yourself past your distaste for the Republic.

“Thank you.” the Guard responded dryly, unable to hide the hint of sarcasm in his voice. 

“Be careful with it.” you sneered, almost shoulder checking the man on your way past him. If you were being honest with yourself, you had to acknowledge you were being unreasonable with this poor man. He was only here to do his job and people like you did not make it any easier. But being subject to an invasion had clouded your sense of self, and maybe your ability to be reasonable. Just a little.

You were led to a woman dressed in robes, but you did not know enough about the clothing habits of the Jedi to tell whether she was one of them or not. She nodded, exchanging a few friendly words and beckoning for you to follow her. Your arrival was expected.

A sense of unease washed over you as you made your way through the towering hallways of the Temple. The air tasted warm and stale, the building’s age and the many people that passed through it permeating through its scent. The hallways were far from empty, used for conversation, and in some cases even training, judging by the bright light emitting from those unsettling trademark blades they carried.

Keeping your head low, you ignored the passing glances that were being sent your way. 

A morbid part of you wish you’d died and the torch of fate had been passed on to another unfortunate soul, one more equipped to deal with diplomatic matters such as these. But these were the cards you’d been dealt, and you had little choice but to play them now. 

The tapping of the lady’s shoes accelerated as she swiftened her step, opening the door for you. She moved out of the way, gesturing for you to head inside as she stood outside the door. It was clear she was not accompanying you any further, so you gave her a curt nod and stepped through the opening. 

When the heavy metal doors fell shut behind you with a loud thunk, you were met by several pairs of eyes fixated on you. As if you were a scared animal, you could feel the hair in your neck begin to rise. Despite your feverish thoughts of reassurance and weak attempts to ease your nerves, your sense of unease had failed to dissipate. 

There were three of them. None of their heads adorned the same mask as the woman that had guided you through the hallways, and two of them were sporting similar robes, though there were some differences in how they wore them. Jedi, you were sure of it. 

As soon as you’d entered the room, the taller of the two Jedi took a step forward. He had a striking appearance, eyebrows casting a shadow over his blue eyes. Across his right ran a scar, marking his experience in combat. His robes were black and reddish brown, much darker than those of the red-robed young togruta who stayed in her place by the table. You did not fail to take note of the weapons hanging off their hips, subconsciously feeding into your discomfort even more.

The man in the corner stood out from the two. He was clearly not a Jedi. In the absence of robes, his body was instead covered in full white armor painted with blue stripes. This included his head, covered by a broad helmet covered in markings. A clone, you realized, eyes widening slightly. Your life being mostly secluded to a neutral planet in a neutral system, you’d only ever see brief glances of them on propaganda posters and on the occasional business trip to systems under Republic control.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when the tall Jedi cleared his throat. When you gave him a good look a second time, you noticed he’d moved his hand to cover the hilt of his lightsaber, as had the younger one in the back. Right, Jedi. Mindreaders. 

“Welcome.” he began, giving you a small nod. You nodded back, waiting for him to continue. 

“My name is Anakin Skywalker. This is my Padawan, Ahsoka Tano.” He gestured towards his apprentice, who in turn also greeted you with a small nod. You briefly glanced at the clone in the corner, but he did not speak up to introduce himself, nor did Anakin make a move to introduce him. Oh well. Maybe he was not to be in contact with you directly, who knows what hierarchy they set up in these Temples?

“[Name].” you responded briefly, nothing more, nothing less. 

“[Name].” Anakin echoed your name back at you. “It was your distress signal we received last week, then. We know the basic details of the situation described, but following your message, the Council has been unable to make contact with any representative from your planet. Would you mind explaining what’s going on back there?” You scoffed.

“I would, actually. Having said that, I want to make it clear I am not telling you anything before we have laid down some ground rules.” Despite the hints towards their ability to read your mood and mind from earlier, this seemed to catch them all by surprise. Anakin’s eyebrows lifted slightly, and Ahsoka exchanged a glance with the clone behind him.

“Not telling u- But you’re the one who contacted us for help.” His voice was stern, but mostly laced with surprise.

“The only reason I visited this war-forsaken place was because this is the Jedi’s conflict to resolve! Nobody else’s!” you snarled, somehow working up the courage to jab him in his chest. “The Hakheen system has been a neutral system for the entire duration of the war that you started. We’ve done everything we can to keep ourselves uninvolved with the conflict- and a decade of hard work was undone when you decided to take over our only two neighboring systems! Your thoughtless actions are what put us on the Separatist radar which has now resulted in a full hostile planetary takeover!”

“What?” the togruta spoke up for the first time, giving you a wide-eyed stare. 

It was just as you feared. Hakheen’s takeover had been effectively kept a secret from the rest of the galaxy. Not only did that mean the Jedi Order would only have your word to go off, it also meant you really had been the only person to escape the droid suppression and the blockade around the planet.

“You’re sure? The entire planet has been subject to a takeover, not just your region?” Anakin chimed back in, putting himself past your hostile disposition towards him.

“Trust me, General, I don’t want to be here either. I’d rather have come groveling at the feet of anyone before I came licking the boots of the Jedi Order. But the scale of this invasion has left me with no choice but to come knocking at your door. Like I said, this is your responsibility and you are to fix this mess that you made. After we have been liberated, the Republic will leave us be and we can call this even.”

Ahsoka struggled to speak for a moment, the markings across her brow furrowing. “But that’s not a fair assessment to make.” she retorted. Your gaze met with hers, feeling your blood begin to run a few degrees hotter with building anger. “The Jedi Order only steps in when-” “Snips.” Anakin’s firm voice interrupted her. The Jedi had turned his head to face her, shooting her a warning glance. “Enough.”

This was difficult enough as is. You clearly did not trust either of them, which meant that any form of discussion or negotiation was going to be a struggle. Even if they didn’t agree with your point of view, there was no point in arguing against it. Letting the Separatists enslave the population of a planet being used for a large-scale assault against the Republic was not something they could ignore regardless. 

You were grateful for the intervention. Ahsoka was clearly younger than you, but given the situation and your emotional state, you don’t know how long you could’ve kept your cool.

“I agree that we should stage a counterattack. It’s in everyone’s best interest, from what you have described.” Anakin explained calmly. “But that doesn’t mean we can just blindly agree to your terms. Regardless of whether or not we believe you- and trust me, we do- we will need more concrete proof that what you are saying is true. And if we are to negotiate terms like this with you, you need some form of political status.” Averting your eyes, you stared at the ground. You didn’t have a proper response to that. Sure, you had political aspirations growing up, but the situation you grew up in did not allow many people from Hakheen to pursue their dreams. Despite your promising education, like most people, you were forced to sell animal parts you and your family hunted to make ends meet. There was no room and no budget to invest in some vague ambassadorial aspirations, and this was likely the furthest you’d come in that regard.

“There were others.” you decided to pivot, realizing there was no lying your way out of this anyways. “I was with a group of six escapees. Among them was our Minister of Intersystemary Affairs and two ambassadors to different planets in the Outer Rim, don’t know which.” For the first time in that conversation you looked desperate. You eyed Anakin questioningly, slightly hopeful your presumptions were incorrect.

“We… haven’t heard anything but your distress signal.” he responded quietly. “I’m sorry.”

You could feel your heart skin in your chest. That severely complicated the situation. Although you hated to admit it, Anakin was right. Nobody on Coruscant had any reason to take someone of your age and status, or rather lack thereof, seriously. 

After a moment of silence, Anakin took a step back. “Either way, this is enough information to alert the Council and to send people to look into the situation. Especially considering the urgency, this will be dealt with swiftly.”

You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose in thought and frustration. “Even with how long the Senate takes to allow, well… fucking anything?”

“For matters that impede our ability to defend ourselves we don’t have to run it by the Senate. Otherwise we’d be handing our asses on a plate to the Seppies at their every move.” He cracked a grin at his own joke before quickly steeling his expression again. “Considering what you told us about an imminent attack on neighboring systems, I consider that more than enough probable cause to take action.” You softly exhaled a breath you didn’t even know you’d been holding. Seems like something was going your way at the very least. Bitterly, you thought how the impending attack on the Republic was the only incentive they had to act so quickly. Still, you’d take their selfish help over waiting for your people to die anyday. 

“You two, with me.” Anakin turned around. “We will be right back.” The clone and the padawan followed right behind him, and you watched the door close, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Just as you were, Rex was also left to stew in his own thoughts as he followed the two Jedi out of the meeting room. The information weighed on his mind. He’d of course heard the stories of how the Trade Federation attempted to pressure Naboo into signing a treaty with a takeover and a blockade. It wasn’t entirely new territory for the Jedi Order to deal with. But he’d never heard of a successful quiet overtake to this extent before. This was on a whole new level, even for the Separatists. 

Furthermore, he was not entirely sure what to make of the character they’d just met. Although he had nothing against you personally, you did not present yourself as the easiest person to work with. They were going to have to find a way past that if you really were the only person who could testify about what the Separatists were carrying out on Hakheen. 

Still, there was a lot he admired about you, even from such a short interaction. 

Separatist blockades could be a serious hazard. Those things had cost the Republic a lot of men over the years, both regular pilots and clones alike. It was nothing short of a miracle you had managed to break through one, but was also undoubtedly a sign of skill on some level. 

He also had to admit he admired your resolve. For as far as he could tell, you weren’t military. Time and time again he’d seen that the challenge of stepping up for what was right was too difficult for many people, even if the situation forced them too. You’d proved well enough you were not a part of that group.

“Rex, a moment. Snips, you go on ahead.”

On queue, the clone captain straightened his back. “General Skywalker.” 

Anakin looked between him and Ahsoka rounding the corner at the end of the hallway before continuing. “I think you should stay with our guest. I was originally going to have Ahsoka stay with them while I discussed our plan of action with you, since she’s probably a bit better at small talk than the two of us. But, as you could see, our friend isn’t exactly comfortable around a bunch of Jedi.”

Your discomfort was hard to miss, even without the outright spiteful curses you spat at them. 

“Good point, sir. But don’t you think this discomfort extends to any aspect of the Republic?”

“Eh, not really.” Anakin shrugged. “But it’s worth a shot. It’s not what I sensed, anyways. And I don’t think they’re particularly eager to hang out with Snips after what happened back there. We need them around here in case the Council wants to question them. Just act relaxed, try to put them at ease.”

Rex hummed. “Alright sir. I’ll await further instructions.” he stated, nodding quickly before turning back around.

Though you couldn’t discern what they were saying, the fact you could hear their voices humming faintly through the thick doors made you uneasy. They were talking about you, you were sure of it. The General had sounded sincere enough when you explained your situation to him, but you had no way to tell whether he was being sincere or not. The Jedi had a reputation for being deceptive, and for likening themselves to heroes despite being warmongers. 

For all you knew, you’d done nothing but initiate a second territorial takeover with this stunt. But, then again, doing anything to try and fix the situation was worth trying over being complacent with the millions of deaths on your home planet. 

You were snapped out of your restless train of thought by the door sliding back open, revealing the clone captain from earlier standing in the doorway. The Jedi were no longer with him. Probably they’d gone off to relay your message to that Council they mentioned earlier, you figured. 

As the man headed towards one of the chairs on the other side of the meeting room table, your eyes followed him sharply, though it was more out of curiosity than distrust. Although you’d seen and heard a couple of clones distantly during your business trips to nearby Republic systems, this was the first time you encountered one up close and personal. 

Of course you'd seen that helmet plenty of times, whether it be on Republic propaganda posters or the holonet. It almost looked fake to be met with one in real life. Though you noted his was far more decorated than the ones you’d seen in illustrations before. Aside from the two deep blue markings glaring at you above his visor, the surface was absolutely covered in tally marks. You could only guess whether it represented the number of lives he took or the number of battles he’d fought his way through, but you didn’t doubt it marked his skill in combat. 

“Ah, right. Sorry. Where are my manners?” His modulated voice snapped you out of your gaze. You could feel the embarrassment rise up in your chest as you realized you’d been staring at him like a frightened lothcat.

Swiftly, the man removed his helmet, leaving it to rest on his hip under his arm. Once again, the face you were met with was one you’d definitely seen in illustrations many times before, but never had you seen it in person.

“No, no, I’m sorry.” you apologized with a dull tone, too flustered to keep looking him in the eye. “I was staring.”

Rex cracked a small smile as he placed his battle-worn helmet down on the table, taking a seat diagonally across from yours. Quietly, he still wondered how he was going to approach you, considering mediation was not exactly his specialty. However, it seemed that Anakin was right to a certain extent at least. They’d only just left the room and your attitude was already nothing like it was five minutes ago.

“I’ve never met a clone before.” you continued at his silence, feeling the need to explain yourself.

“Right. We don’t go to neutral systems unless we have a good reason to. Having our men on ground untouched by the war usually causes more unrest than it is worth. You don’t visit Republic systems often, then?”

“Not much, no.” you replied, slacking your shoulders a little. “Sometimes, though. To sell our stuff elsewhere. We're hunters.” Rex rested his elbow on his knee, leaning forward. “Hunters, eh?” he asked, interested. His position did not often require him to make small talk with civvies. 

“Yeah. Most of our planet’s exports are minerals. My family members from a few generations back or something decided to capitalize on something else. I mean- We sell most of our meat on Hakheen, but the horns and bones are sought after in other systems. But… yeah, that’s probably not something that’s going to draw any clones to our booth.”

“Guess not.” Rex chuffed, leaning back into his seat again with crossed arms. The captain was not exactly familiar with your planet or the wildlife it contained, but he figured it wasn’t a small deal if it was worth the transport to other systems to sell your products.

The room became quiet again as you both struggled to find something to say. You found the courage to look up at him again, giving his face a proper look. 

Beyond a shadow of a doubt you’d seen that face countless times online before, but there were a lot of details to his appearance that set him apart from the mental image of a clone you’d built up over the years. The most obvious was that his roots were blonde, as opposed to the trademark brown you were used to reading about. You vaguely wondered if he dyed it to stand out as an individual, or if it was a phenotypic abnormality he was born with.

The second thing that caught your attention were his eyes. They were nothing like the cold, battle-hungry stares you’d come to learn they all supposedly had. There was a certain tension to his posture that stayed present even as the two of you conversed about nothing, but his eyes carried a strength that was more reassuring than threatening. It honestly made him a lot more handsome than the faces you remembered from the posters.

Rex cleared his throat, thinking of a sensible way to ask the question that weighed on his mind.

“If you don’t mind me asking, sir… How were you able to penetrate the blockade? We’ve lost a lot of good men to those, no matter the size of the blockade. It might help us strategize on how to get through.”

You took a deep breath, your fingers interlocking nervously. You hated thinking back to that day. The trip to Coruscant had been a laborious traumatizing trip on its own, but it did not compare to the hell you had to endure to break through the Separatist army.

“Apologies. I shouldn't have asked that until General Skywalker is back.”

“No.” you quickly responded. “No, it’s fine. Honestly though, it’s probably not the answer you’re looking for. I just- I just got lucky.” Feet rubbing together in a nervous tic, you continued. “I know none of the crafts near the west of the capital did not even make it out of the atmosphere. My group all managed to overwhelm the droids stationed at the southeastern airport for long enough to hijack a few spacecrafts. From there on out I guess I just got lucky.”

“It takes more than just luck to survive something like this.” Rex reassured you gently. Though he sounded genuine, you couldn’t agree with him. 

“To a certain extent, perhaps. But I was panicking and I guess that ended up being in my favor. We all decided to split up to heighten our chances of one of us breaking through. I heated up my hyperdrive as soon as I passed the atmosphere and just prayed to whatever gods I could think of that I wouldn't blast myself through a star.”

“You didn’t do calculations?”

“No, none. I was right above a city south of the capital when I made the jump. Didn’t end up seeing any ships from the blockade, but they must have been there. Nobody else I left ever contacted me after I made it through.”

Rex made a mental note to ask you about the details of that location later. Identifying a potential weak spot in their blockade could be vital to a successful mission, but he sensed you’d been asked enough about this for today.

“It’s good that you took that risk. I promise your case is in good hands with General Skywalker. He personally insisted on tackling it as soon as he received your distress signal. We will do everything to ensure your planet will be free of Seppies when we leave.”

Despite sighing through your nose, you managed to flash him a weak smile. Even if you weren’t particularly fond of the Jedi Order and the factions it was allied with, you had desperately needed someone to just be kind to you after the horrendous situation you’d found yourself in for the past week. 

“Thank you, uh…” Your voice trailed off as you stared at him, questioningly. 

“Captain Rex. At your service.”

You gave him a proper smile this time, nodding. You were about to open your mouth to continue the conversation, when a high-pitched beeping started emanating from Rex’s wrist. His comlink. You stared as he pressed the button, a light blue hologram of the General you’d met earlier springing up from the device. “Rex, you should come over here. Both of you.”

[chronicsyd]

yea, we ALL know why I'M here at this point (like most people i waited All Night for this thing) but Enough Yapping, let's do this! (go watch it first, I'll be doing an Excessive deep dive of this thing (I also had a couple of drafts I've made in the last 48 hours talking about certain worries I've seen from the fandom about season 2, but decided to lay off posting about it until the trailer came out so I'll be addressing some of those in a later post as well), and as always, leakers will be blocked and deleted).

SO, with All That outta the way, let's get into it: Firstly, i was left Completely Speechless by this whole thing like HOLY SHIT! i don't even know What to SAY! Yes we've had a few repeat scenes from the old teaser and clips but obviously the new stuff's what I'm more interested in.

The trailer opens up with Vi admitting to Caitlyn that she was right and saying "My sister is gone. there's only Jinx now." which is something that I've been speculating about since June (well the "there's only Jinx and Jinx is the one that needs to be stopped" thing), so we've already had a clear cut path where Vi is concerned. BUT what interests me is that first part of the conversation is still part of when she's talking to her in her Enforcer Uniform, so her head's probably telling her that stopping Jinx is the right thing to do here after what happened with the Council.

I also don't think I've mentioned this in a post, but I've also had speculation that the person in the hood from the teaser was Jinx not Viktor (just things like how the shoulder width didn't seem to match him but the one second clip we got of him i wasn't able to cross-reference all that well, also the monkey painting in the background added to that factor) but it seems like the show is reenforcing that this is Jinx here.

I've also somehow underestimated just HOW unhinged Caitlyn's going to be this season. like "I want to tear that laugh from her throat forever." is a Crazy line like Jesus Cait!

But what sticks out to me about this scene is not only the fact that Vi's very clearly crying here, you can tell not only by the length of her hair but the fact that the black seems to be somewhat fading means that she spends quite a bit of time hiding out in Zaun (downright Confirming about my thoughts of a timeskip from my last post). Now of course we don't have the context about what she's crying about but it seems like she's just overall frustrated about her situation. But another thing that actually pops up later in the trailer is that Vi actually still has her hair like this,

which means that I actually might be wrong about Vi being in Zaun before she's even in her Enforcer getup with Caitlyn. it seems to me that this whole thing with Vi wearing black actually happens after she fights against Jinx in the temple, perhaps thinking that being an Enforcer and in Piltover with Caitlyn isn't the right choice for her and tries to go about life her own way for a while (which is probably the thing we're "going to hate" when it comes to Caitvi).

Now, the next part of the trailer is what they already showed us with Caitlyn and Jinx talking to Ambessa and Sevika so i don't need to go over that again. However right after that, Sevika asks Jinx what she's planning.

Jinx's response? "to watch it all burn". Whether or not if Piltover recovers from Fishbones doesn't seem to matter to her, she wants everything to burn to the ground. But just a side note the way she's looking at the match in this frame very clearly reminds her of Silco, and still going by the streaked makeup, it's still a fresh wound for her.

now, this frame?

I don't actually have any solid answers for. by the look in Vi's eyes, I'm presuming she's reaching out to either Jinx, Caitlyn, or Ekko. She's not wearing her Enforcer getup here (at least it doesn't look like what she's been wearing) and i can't solidly place the background, there isn't any familiar landmarks sticking out to me. But Vi's hair and bandages make me think that this is probably when she's just starting to come out of hiding here.

There seems to be a bunch of Undercity riots happening against Piltover, which i think is a factor where Ambessa tells Caitlyn that "in order to restore peace you have to enact Martial Law". I could be wrong about this but honestly i don't think I am.

Warwick looks just as fantastic as ever, but they haven't really given us any clear cut answers on how they're planning to utilize him besides being a living weapon for Singed. Singed says "you felt it, haven't you?" but it's rather unclear who he's talking to here, i don't think he's talking to Warwick, i think he might actually be talking to Viktor and talking about the Hexcore and the Arcane and such because of Viktor's "glorious evolution" path.

Now to the part of the Trailer that COMPLETELY confuses me...

someone says "the Arcane is waking up", NO idea who's saying this or who it's being said TO, NO idea who These people are supposed to be, I just-- yea this is the only part of the trailer that I'm at a Complete loss for words. The Arcane is magic we all know that, it's what Jayce's whole thing has been about, mixing magic and technology together into Hextech. but this is implying that while Jayce was doing all this the Arcane itself was just... slumbering? i guess. like are these people going to turn out to be mages because of this or something? idk, see, endless list of questions but Absolutely no answers. let's just move on before my brain explodes trying to figure this out.

I skipped a few repeat scenes (like the ones of Caitlyn and the other enforcers against the Chemtanks because I've already talked about it), and put a pin on the Ekko scene i skipped I'm coming back to it.

SO, it turns out we were right in claiming that Jinx loses her middle finger with the art book cover, and I'm Pretty sure that Caitlyn actually shoots it off (which probably explains the "WTF CAITLYN?!" comment i was talking about with addressing the leaks). Also this is like, the Most psychotic I think I've ever seen Jinx like Jesus Christ do NOT leave me alone in a room with her!

Ekko says "sometimes taking a leap foward means leaving some things behind"; maybe he's talking about the past? I don't know who he's talking to here specifically, it may just be giving advice to Vi, seeing as we do see the two working together later in the trailer after Vi's hair is grown out.

Now, I'm going to go a wee bit out of order here for a moment, just because I'm saving something for last.

I was Completely right about Vi facing off against Warwick at some point (i was basically Screaming "Chekov's gun!" for months when Warwick was confirmed), But Vi's still in her Undercity getup here, so I don't know if she's recognizable to him at all here, if this has to do with the illegal fighting ring that she's doing, but the dust seems to kinda go against that, like it's not a "now for our main event!" smokey kinda entrance, if you catch my drift here.

I can't tell if this is supposed to be a flashback of Powder or not because the other person is extremely hard to place, like it looks kind of like Sevika's new hair it's just that the lighting is so dark you can't make out their face. and if its a flashback to the age that Powder was in the opening shot the clothes don't seem to match, like there are things that contradict each other that doesn't make the scene clear cut to me.

Now this frame basically confirms something I've had on my mind, I just never made a post about. and that was my concern that Caitlyn was going to get herself hurt by these Chemtanks. the reason for that being we only saw her going against these things with her rife (and not the Hextech one). Vi and Jayce could handle themselves back in episode 8 because they had the Hammer and Gauntlets, but every other Enforcer there with a rifle was Easily taken out. and Arcane doesn't really go about the "simple plot armor" route, so i saw this ending not very well for her, despite being a good marksman.

And of course we only get another ONE SECOND clip of Viktor to prove he's alive that doesn't even Show His Face! like we Know this is him, and the gem in his wrist seems to imply that he's already going down the "glorious evolution" path here.

I don't have anything to say about this other than i have NO idea what it's supposed to be and that its Freaky looking. Like it kinda reminds me of Silco for some reason, like i don't think its supposed to but that's where my heads leaning for some reason.

Now, does it seem like I've left something out? It's because I did.

What these shots in particular are telling me is that Ambessa actually turns on Caitlyn (because I claimed that earlier in the season Caitlyn actually allies herself with Ambessa and i still believe that to be true) and tries to take over Piltover, because in the shot of Ambessa she's clearly hitting Enforcers, not people of the Undercity, and Caitlyn and Vi are wearing matching outfits here (Vi also reminds me of the ironhulk from Infinity War with this thing) meaning that the two are still working together here, but there is one little thing that I did leave out talking about these shots.

I can totally see this being a chaotic fight between the Undercity, the Enforcers, and Noxus, because Jinx is clearly still in Piltover during this shot. Now Jinx says "then stop me." during this but its definitely a spliced line i don't think she's saying it during this scene and I do believe that she's probably talking to Vi here (and maybe my ears are playing tricks on me but it kinds sounds "echoey" so it's probably from the temple fight). but can we talk about the Purple in her hair now? like despite having a hood on, That's Badass!

Edit: NOPE! I lied, I have a couple more things to point out.

Caitlyn blows up Jinx in this shot, which if I'm right about Vi being an Enforcer before going underground this is gonna cause some Serious issues between the two (because despite saying "my sister is gone" I don't believe that Vi would want an attempt at her sisters life, another pointer in the "thing we're going to hate with Caitvi" oy-vey...). When I mentioned Caitlyn probably being the one shooting off Jinx's finger earlier, i didn't also think about that final shot of Caitlyn from the teaser being right before what happens here. Because we already knew that Caitlyn was apart of this fight, just didn't dawn how drastically this fight is probably going to turn out. Because the explosion is all glowey like that Because Caitlyn's using her Hextech rifle in this scene, and it functions more in the way Jayce's Hammer does than Vi's gauntlets do.

So I'm not exactly sure when this fight scene is taking place, I don't think it's the temple fight, despite what little i can gather from the background, it doesn't seem to quite match the temple, and i think Vi and Caitlyn are still alone during that specific fight (could be wrong but that's just what they've shown as of right now) and I'm seeing Vi as shooting a rocket, blowing up the building that Sevika and Caitlyn were standing next to. it's also hard to name the expression that Jinx is wearing right after this, but it's clear that she was at least part of this fight as well.

Ok, NOW I'm done! I promise! I spent the last TWO HOURS on this thing since the trailer dropped and I'll most likely be spamming about it more if/when i suddenly get new thoughts about it. But that's all for now, bye! (I'M SO EXCITED FOR NOVEMBER AHHH WHY CAN'T IT GET HERE FAST ENOUGH?!)

[silverflqmes]

i know you got like 37393793749 requests already but HEAR ME OUT BABES.

genesis x reader where he's at banora making plans to revolve against shinra but his (other) childhood best friend still lives there. zack is coming too with tseng and they're planning to 'get rid of the evidence' right??? what would genesis do once he finds his other childhood best friend in banora and would he save them from certain death by the hands of shinra???

໒⦂ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑.

notes. hi anon, you’re so real for this request let me slap you with some angst real QUICK — or um, hurt / comfort.. ahem, luckily i finished this part in cc a couple nights ago otherwise i would be clowning🫥 ALSO THE GREAT WAR FR FIT A LITTLE TOO MUCH HERE

genre. angst + hurt / comfort

tw. detailed descriptions of injuries

genesis rhapsodos x gn!reader.

the smell of smoke polluted your lungs as a cough left your lips, eyes barely half lidded.

how.. had it come to this?

the logs holding your home childhood home together began to scorch, crack and cave in on itself — blocking most, if not all, plausible escape routes.

what had banora — or rather, the people of banora — done to earn such a cruel kismet?

sweat trickled from your forehead down to your chin, the heat sweltering —growing even more unbearable by the minute. had your predecessors known an aerial assault like this would befall their homes one day.. perhaps they would have reconsidered their building materials. alas, it was too late for that.

had you caused something to share part of this punishment, too?

blends of warm colors engulfed your vision as you ascended the decaying steps to what once was your chambers. a place of solace, where you would read to your heart’s content and indulge in your hobbies. the stairs that once led up to your happy place now groaned in protest, waiting to wither away into dust.

would there be enough time to evade fate?

the darkened planks snapped beneath your battered boots, throwing you forward onto your knees at the top of the stairwell with a stuttered yelp.

or was there truly no way out, but death?

ash and grime painted the surface of whatever skin you had left exposed, eyes glossing over with tears as the flames kissed your limbs. it was painful, unlike anything you’d felt before, but you told yourself to endure.

what choice was there but to tolerate it?

you wouldn’t trust in help being on the way, not with banora deserted — oddly deprived of its population. the only one left.. had been the mother of a childhood friend of yours.

was she suffering the same as you were? or had she been lucky to make it out, likely not unscathed, but alive at least..?

or.. would she suffer worse? as the parents of your other childhood friend had a few days ago.

such was karma, sadly. but with the mother, stuck in that house alone for years after the loss of her remarried husband, and the later departure of her son going off to join the elite SOLDIER program.. perhaps death was the solace needed to be set free and return to the planet at last, sailing the lifestream in peace.

you forced yourself back to your feet, wincing at the chars and cuts poking through the holes of your clothing. exhaustion was creeping up on you — coercing you into dropping your efforts and allow yourself to be consumed entirely by the great inferno.

but something — a gut feeling — told you it was not your time yet. whether or not that had been a fear of dying or a selfish desire to defy destiny.. remained unclear.

all you knew, is that you needed to hang on and get out.

“almost there..” you whispered to yourself as a reassurance, despite feeling as though your skin had been peeling off. layer by layer, tissue by tissue, melting down into a pathetic pool of residue.

a final stumble towards your windowsill and you nearly breathed out in relief. the casement thankfully had no fallen logs or debris to block your exit, however, the real obstacle would be the drop that awaited you.

grabbing ahold of a stool that once paired with your now destroyed vanity, you lined the pegs up with your window, heaving a breath. “here goes.”

not wasting another second, you drove the piece of furniture into the glass, watching as it shattered into thousands — millions of pieces.

the flames howled against the breeze, growing with fury as you hissed when they grazed your skin.

there was no luxury left for stalling, you needed to get out and fast.

overcome with sorrow, you threw one final glance at your precious, shriveling, home before stepping onto the charred outline.

escape was at last within your grasp, and yet..

your breath hitched, trapping in your throat when you realized how far the fall had been, and no less.. into a field of fire.

..it continued to be so far out of reach.

stay in your home and die with it, or flee your home and die before it — those had been the options that had presented themselves to you. both equally gruesome.

a series of cracking halted your train of thoughts, panic flooding you as the wooden trim fractured beneath your weight.

stripped of a surface to stand on, your hand flew out to seize the splintered frame, eyes widening as you did so.

was this.. the end?

the log crumpled beneath your tight hold, nails clawing helplessly for dear life as your vision began to blur.

maybe.. it was.

not wanting to witness your demise, you squeezed your eyes shut despite the tears that leaked out. it was probably wise to just give in.. and accept fate for whatever it was.

only, it never came.

a feather-light touch caressed your body as a pair of arms secured you against a firm chest, lifting you into the air.

startled, you opened your eyes despite your fears to find a crimson jacket — mixed with charcoal. it.. it couldn’t be.

“falling out of a window, my dearest?” a chuckle seemed to follow as your body was cradled closer to your savior. “you would be wise not to do so while in my absence.. who would be your hero, then?”

had your eyes deceived you amidst the calamity brought upon your homeland? had the fumes gotten to you so badly that your mind had created an image of your friend, now winged, rushing to your aid..

or was it all real?

“ge.. nesis..” you winced, dragging your gaze over to the dark wing protruding from his right shoulder blade before looking up at the ginger. “is it.. really you?”

the former first class SOLDIER regarded you for a moment, an absentminded smile on his lips as he let out a mirthless laugh. “does my monstrous appearance frighten you that much, y/n?”

monstrous? “where did you get that sort of conclusion..? i’m over here thinking this is all.. just a dream, a-and that’s what you assume i think?” you scoffed, reaching a hand to pinch his cheek despite your wounds before closing your eyes. “you are completely mistaken, do not ask me that ever again. you, genesis, are not a monster.”

he stared down at you for a brief second, descending slowly as his boots at last made contact with the ground. “a man who brought discord upon his homeland is anything but a ‘hero’, therefore ‘monster’ emerges as the more suitable term.” the mako-eyed male answered softly, casting one final glance toward his crumbling home — the banora apples melting away with his memories.

knitting your brows together, you lifted your gaze, frowning. “you.. did this?” your voice came out as a whisper, heart trapped in your throat. genesis couldn’t possibly have done so.. it couldn’t have been his doing.

his eyes lowered back down to yours, the sullied smile still tugging at his lips. “indirectly, i suppose, yes.” he affirmed, looking up at the smoke filled sky. “shinra did not take kindly to mine and angeal’s resignation. this, it seems, was their response.” burning a town off the face of the planet until was unrecognizable.

as if it had never been there to begin with.

you gripped his jacket tighter, dropping your head to his chest. “i’ll never forgive them..”

genesis petted your head gently, gaze sharpening. “you would be right not to.”

notes. oki finally finished this, several sittings were taken but here you go anon, i hope you enjoyed it😭 there was not much genesis but he saved the day, um kind of??? maybe.. but yeah🥹

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