#so much unrequited love

[aka-diarmuid]

Dee wanted to ask Dawn, his cute goth crush, out to the Winter Formal but he backed out when the big bad put her life in danger to get to Dee. He pushed her away to protect her. During the dance, Dawn apologizes to Dee for not being there for him and tells him she chooses to stand by him even when things get scary. They dance and even though Dee never confesses his feelings for her, he's happy just to have her in his life. They need each other. (Earlier that night, Colt confessed his feelings for him, thinking he'd never see Dee again because he was being sent to prison- and Dee was dying. Dee rejected him and then went to cry to Achara, who was not equiped to comfort him but did her best. We love our lizard bestie.)

[jpg-of-dorian-slay]

love love LOVE jesper fahey so much, kaz rips out someone's eye and tosses them overboard and jesper's just like "would he do that for me?" not at all bothered, just wondering if kaz cares about him enough to kill a guy for him. a man with his priorities absolutely in order.

[sheikfangirl]

A bitter sweet memory ❤️

Pre-Calamity flashback panel from my Zelink comic. Work in progress.

[shadebloopnik]

Unrequited/One-sided Radioapple but it isn't treated like an angsty end of the world thing.

Imagine they slowly get closer after all the banters, and eventually becoming close friends. Lucifer ends up catching feelings for him, and after a long while, decides to confess and ask Alastor if he felt the same.

Alastor admittedly does not feel the same.

He's getting uncomfortable, struggling to keep his composure because he's DONE this before. He KNOWS how this ends. He remembers Vox and all his insistent declarations of affection and desperate pleas for Alastor to reciprocate; the possessive entitlement. He remembers how all those sickly sweet words morphed into something venomous when he didn't give the lowlife what he wanted. He remembers the anger, the ridiculous notion that it was Alastor's fault why he was so mad, that Alastor led him on and that he obviously deserved something in payment for it all-

So yes, Alastor knows how this ends.

It doesn't mean he isn't disappointed though, because he actually LIKES Lucifer, far more than he ever did Vox. Perhaps not in the way the king might have wanted, but he did. He treasured their little talks, their drinking sessions, their shared love for their instruments, Lucifers singing, their little duets, the banter, the playful jabs, the sparring.

He'd even slowly grown accustomed to the other's touches, not feeling the same surge of disgust and discomfort whenever the shorter man would grab at his arm in excitement, forgetting his usual thoughtfulness of Alastor's touch aversion for the short moment of whatever distracted him. Alastor even enjoyed it at times, relaxing at the feel of soft feathers beneath his claws, or the sensation of gentle scratches against his ears.

Difficult as it was to admit, Alastor had grown to care for the angel, the same way he had for Rosie orv Mimzy.

But no matter how fond Alastor was of Lucifer, it didn't change the fact that he didn't feel the same way romantically, or even sexually. No way in the 7 rings of Hell was he going to lie to Lucifer about either, not going to even entertain the idea of pretending he reciprocated for Lucifer's sake. He respected his friend too much for that.

So a clear, direct rejection it is. It was a shame, but nothing could be done. He said his piece concisely, and waited, shoulders set, back straight, smile and eyes a careful blank canvas as he prepared for the inevitable.

Lucifer nodded, a normal soft smile still in place, "Thank you for your answer, it means a lot."

Which......what? Alastor expected an outburst, or at the very least sharp words.

What he did NOT expect was....acceptance? And not just that but, a happy one? Contentment?????

"You're....alright with that?", he had to ask, he had to. Lucifer was clearly just very good at masking his upset.

But the damn angel just smiled?? And it didn't even look fake, just as bright and soft as his normal smiles, albeit a little confused?? Lucifer smiled at him, his brows furrowing in a bit of confused disbelief, as though Alastor is being the weird one here.

"Uhh, yeah??? Why wouldn't I be??? Yeah I may have some feelings for you but its not like you're obligated to feel the same. Above anything else, we're friends first and foremost and i'm alright with that..."

Then he seemed to have reached his own little conclusion as his words trailed off, because suddenly Lucifer's eyes widened in realization of something, and his words picking up with a sense of panicked urgency.

Alastor would really like to know what Lucifer's supposed realization was about himself because he had absolutely no clue.

"I mean, we ARE still friends right?? I don't- I- I hope this doesn't like- change your opinion of me. You're not- oh gosh I'm not making you uncomfortable am I? I- I won't mention it! You can even forget this whole confession ever happened! We can just go on as before! I don't feel any different or would act any different! Honest! I mean, I don't regret confessing because you deserve to know and I'm not ashamed of my feelings, but I don't want you to be uncomfortable! It doesn't change the way i'll treat you! Or change any aspect of our relationship! I don't even think I like you more as a lover than as a friend! I really, really do love our friendship, it matters more to me than any thoughts of being in a romantic relationship with you! So please just forget it all-"

Alastor let the word vomit wash over him, every word leaving him more confused by the minute.

Because yes, there's the desperation he expected, but...it was more about, convincing Alastor to remain friends?? Reassuring Alastor that nothing has to change?? That their friendship is the most important thing here??

(If anyone asks, no Alastor's heart didn't swell. Only lesser beings would have had the urge to cry, and Alastor is anything but.)

Lucifer is unknowingly reassuring Alastor of every single one of his insecurities about the situation. Because Alastor DID want to remain friends, he cared too much about the man to let it go so easily. It was rare to find people who treasure friendships above romantic relationships.

"I don't tend to forget easily, nor will I forget this one in particular.", he spoke, finally finding his voice. At Lucifer's defeated, pained expression( is their friendship really that important to him?), he continued. "But....yes. I'd like that.. To remain...friends."

He didn't often say the word out loud, being comfortable enough with each other that it need not be reassured with the label. But with Lucifer brightening up like his namesake, relief and happiness palpable, Alastor felt no qualms at declaring their friendship out loud.

So life went on as usual. True to his word, Lucifer remained basically the same. The following weeks were a bit stilted for Alastor, as he put some rather painful distance between him and the angel; limiting their interactions, their usual touches.

Anytime now, Lucifer would break and show his true colors, Alastor would think, waiting for the boot to drop. Lucifer would end up angry, and dissatisfied, and that was that.

But it never happened. Lucifer never expressed discomfort when Alastor avoided him, seeming to be understanding of the others need for space. He was just as affectionate as before, though initially a bit held back, as though gauging Alastor's comfort.

Months would pass, and the king never faltered. Their friendship remained strong, if not growing ever closer than before. Alastor found himself even growing more comfortable with the man. Affectionate touches were becoming common, hugs and head pats and cuddles being a welcome thing, with the reassurance that the shorter king would never disrespect his boundaries.

Lucifer seemed genuinely happy about it, despite being clearly told that none of Alastor's actions hinted at anything romantic. In fact, he seemed ecstatic that Alastor was getting more affectionate towards him as a friend. The embarrassment the radio demon felt at having Lucifer basically tear up (no really, he was crying so hard, full on drama sobbing) with joy in front of him was intertwined with the sheer incredulous fondness he felt for the man at that moment.

They were sitting at a couch one night, more than a year passing since that confession. Lucifer was leaning back, resting against the cushions, while Alastor had his head on the smaller one's shoulder, nuzzling at the crook of his neck, legs tucked close to his body. Both had a book in hand, two nearly empty cups of tea on the table in front of them. Every so often, Lucifer would flex his fingers that rested on Alastor's head, running a digit against the other's ear, often prompting the demon to lean into the touch. White wings enveloped the two, blanketing them against the chill of the night.

As Alastor turned the page of his own book, relaxing into the touch of his dearest friend, he wondered how he ever got so lucky in hell.

[saturdaysky]

a little morning pick-me-up

-

A morning on the way to Baldur's Gate. The party booked themselves into an inn and enjoyed real beds, hot baths, and privacy for the first time since the Nautiloid.

Gale and Mayhew shared a room, of course. They were filled with the relief of surviving the shadows and the glow of finally getting together, so their private room was probably a blessing for the whole party, honestly.

-

This was some ascended anatomy practice! Referenced some great stock from @null-entity.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 103

Geralt keeps waking up miraculously healed from contracts. Witcher healing is good, yes, but not that good. And it doesn't work if he goes into towns. He's undoubtedly weary of the phenomenon, but he can't exactly do anything about it at the moment. One night, after a hunt was significantly easier than expected, he's hopped up on too many potions, and the world has blurred and everything is TOO MUCH. Except for the soft yellow light in the distance, moving closer to him. As it gets closer, so too do the soft twinkling sounds. The ball of light hums and sings to him, even as he can barely focus on it's presence. He feels warmth in his wretched shaking hands and spares a second to glance at them, watching in shaken awe as a wound heals before his eyes. Ever since the night where he saw the glowing ball, he begins looking for signs of someone or something following him. He's healed and sung to, but what could the creature actually want from him? Why bother with it all? So one night, when he's bandaged up a scratch wound on thigh, he pretends to sleep. He waits, waits, waits, until finally he hears the twinkling chimes. He springs up and forward, snatching it out of the air, and looking at what he's caught, ready to demand answers, only to see a very startled little winged man staring at him. A fairy? "Why do you heal me?" "Because I like you, obviously!" "You don't know me." "Oh, but I do! I've been watching you for a few months now!" "....Hmm." "You're my muse! I've written songs about your adventures, would you like to hear?!"

[justaz]

this got longer than i meant it to so im putting it under the cut

merlin and morgana watching arthur and gwen be The Couple in camelot. they are heartbroken, jealous, and tired- no, exhausted. they've arthur and gwen for years and fell madly and hopelessly in love with them (respectively). however, they care for the both of them and if they’re happy together then merlin and morgana will simply bite their tongue. besides, its not like their feelings are reciprocated so there’s no use in stirring up trouble.

but the pain eats away at them until they are shadows of their previous selves. merlin is quiet and demure while morgana’s lighthearted snark is growing harsher and harsher. it comes to a head when morgana makes a scathing remark to merlin about his feelings. before, her comments had been directed at others, arthur more often than not, but never toward merlin. they were in the same boat so why would morgana target him?

but she did and things get a little tense. then merlin finds a spell and shows morgana and the two of them, utterly exhausted and desperate for an end to their agony, agree to take part in the spell together. merlin concocts the potion and they both down it. the next day, merlin and morgana are as happy as can be. it was a startling 180° from the morose and downtrodden duo they had been not even twelve hours before to the happy, on cloud nine, nothing is wrong with the world people that hummed as they danced around the castle

merlin and morgana exclaim to one another how freeing it is to not feel such a heavy burden of unrequited love. they mention how easy it is to breath. how they haven’t been this happy and carefree in years. of course, like everything else, there comes a price

to be rid of feelings like love, the opposite feeling would take it’s place. a lot of people believe the opposite of love to be hate, but it is in fact indifference. it starts off slow where gwen makes inside jokes that morgana cant remember. then it moves to them having trouble remembering arthur and gwen’s names. then their memories begin to rewrite themselves to remove arthur and gwen from their minds. eventually, they roam the halls, arm in arm, without even a glance at either arthur or gwen bc they cant find it in themselves to care about these two random strangers. who would?

arthur and gwen go to gaius who has already noted their odd behaviors and has been looking into it. the rest of the knights join them in gaius’s chambers bc they had also noticed how weird they were acting. lancelot is quiet and brooding until arthur pushes him to confess what he knows.

lancelot tells them how he fell for gwen the first time he had come to camelot. she flushes and arthur seems upset but lancelot continues. he tells them all how despite, or maybe because of, his love for gwen, he let her go to be with arthur bc she was happy with him. he hesitates and gwen encourages him. lancelot mentally apologizes to his two magical friends and spills the beans. he explains how morgana has loved gwen for years and how merlin has loved arthur for years. the three of them had bonded after arthur and gwen were engaged about how much it hurt watching the person you love be happy with someone else.

slowly, he pulls out a vial filled with glittering, dark red liquid - dark like blood. he hands it to gaius and explains how they had come to him a few days ago with that and said how it would cure his pain. it would wash away his love for gwen so he wasn’t crushed under the weight of it. he says he never took it bc he didn’t think it was right but merlin and morgana had already taken it. he wasn’t sure what the side effects were going to be until he saw them that afternoon.

gaius finds what the potion is and explains how it did in fact wash away their feelings of love for arthur and gwen and with the absence of love, indifference took hold. he wasn’t sure if their missing memories could be attributed to the indifference or if the spell took to wiping the memories to prevent the love from regrowing.

arthur and gwen are quiet, guilty and upset that their closest friends were going thru such turmoil and they weren’t aware at all. leon clears his throat and asks how to cure them. gaius grimaces and read the book a bit more before responding that a counter potion would do the trick, it would neutralize the previous potion by bringing back their memories and feelings. arthur is quick to agree but gaius interrupts that once the counter potion has been administered, everything will come back at once. everything.

they question him and he explains that every memory, every word spoken, every touch, and every feeling from the past 7+ years will run through them at the same time. considering they’ve been dealing with unreciprocated love and watching the one they love be with someone else for the past couple of years, it wouldn’t be that farfetched to assume that they would look and sound like dying animals. suffice to say, it wouldn’t be pretty.

in spite of the guilt and fear in arthur, he insists that they have to bring merlin and morgana back. he doesn’t want to put them in pain but he cant just let them wipe themselves away and continue on with his life as if he didn’t just lose his best friend and sister. they spike merlin and morgana’s wine with the potion and, as gaius predicted, merlin and morgana both drop to the floor, screaming and crying in pain, pleading with anyone to make it stop and take the pain away.

gwen hides her tears in elyan’s shoulder, arthur uses his long taught skill of being an Emotionless Prick of a Prince his father taught him to not cry. the tears stay in his eyes and do not fall. a few minutes later, merlin and morgana are both catatonic on the ground, limp and staring at nothing. their breathing is slow, so slow they almost appeared dead.

lancelot and gwaine help merlin up and take him to his chambers while leon and percival do the same for morgana. no one mentions what happened and merlin and morgana stay locked in their rooms for two days before being able to get up out of bed. they aren’t back to their shadow selves from two weeks prior, nor are they the happy go lucky duo from the past few days. instead, they are slow and quiet and barely even there. they’re barely even people anymore. simply going through the motions.

[alchemistc]

Seeing all the saltommy headcanons floating around here and I'm obsessed with all of them but consider:

Unrequited saltommy but Sal's the one with feelings. Tommy considers him a good friend and a close confidant and Sal's the only one who Knows about Tommy, so they have their own shorthand and all their in-jokes and Sal plays up the bro thing because he realized five years in that he sort of maybe definitely wants Tommy to bone him and then press a kiss to his forehead and he needs Tommy to stick around for that so Gerrard can never know

Which. Tommy's never thought about it. Given the opportunity, maybe he would have. But Sal never says a word. Sal represses the feeling and dates around and through it all he's in love with his work buddy. They hang out when they're off shift and he listens to Tommy talk about the guys he's seeing casually and how they hate the job, hate that he's in the closet, hate that every time they're out in public he's tense and staring around the room like someone is about to pop out and call him every name in the book. He listens, and he knocks his knee against Tommy's, and they turn on the fights so Tommy has a distraction. And Sal loves him.

And it doesn't matter.

And then Gerrard is out, and they're finally in a place where Sal thinks - maybe. Maybe I could tell him. Maybe we could be something.

And Tommy comes over one night a few months into their revolving door of Captains and he's giddy, he can't stop smiling, he's nursing his beer and picking at the label and

He's met someone. They've been seeing each other and Tommy didn't want to say anything because it felt different than usual. Felt real. This guy understands the secrecy, he understands why Tommy has concerns about being out. He's sweet, and kind, and a bit of a freak in bed, sorry, you don't want to hear about that, and Sal absolutely doesn't but not for the reason Tommy thinks. It's serious. And Tommy had realized he wanted his best friend to know.

So. Sal tells him to bring the guy around, and he can never find a reason not to like him, because he's great. He's great for Tommy, he's fun to hang out with, he doesn't begrudge Tommy keeping the private part of their lives private. He can turn the lovey-dovey look off in a moment, play at being buddies when they're out and about and never seems upset about it. And in privacy, he's pressing a hand to the small of Tommy's back and pressing his lips to the bolt of Tommy's jaw and he always, always drinks Tommy's shitty beer even though Sal can tell he'd prefer a simple Bud Light. He makes Tommy happy.

So Sal lashes out at work instead. He presses, and he pushes, and he calls out captains left and right and does stupid shit for the hell of it. And eventually it bites him in the ass.

Sal loses his house, but for a while there he doesn't lose Tommy. He's there when the relationship with the guy implodes, and there's just never a good opportunity to bring up how he feels. So he doesn't.

They drift. Without the impetus of working together they inevitably just don't spend as much time together.

Sal meets a woman. He likes her. Her laugh is ridiculous. She smiles with her whole face. She's delicate and soft and when she tucks her face under his chin and curls her arms around him she can barely wrap her fingers together behind his back.

He introduces her to Tommy six months in and Tommy is happy for him, Tommy congratulates him, Tommy slaps a big hand to his shoulder and Sal soaks in the warmth and puts it away.

He marries the girl and Tommy orbits his life but they're never as close again. He has a couple kids, and they love uncle Tommy, and he watches Tommy move stations and stop hiding himself and he meets a few of the guys Tommy dates and they never feel right. They're never enough. They don't treat him the way Sal thinks he should be treated. He welcomes them into his home and hates the way they roll their eyes at Uncle Tommy stuffing his big long legs under the kids table so he can paint a butterfly with his daughter, the way they watch him with Sal's son balanced on his shoulders. He hates the way they get quiet when he and Sal are comparing scars and stories about the job. He hates the way they just don't love him enough.

They drift, and swing back together for random nights out or the kids birthdays, see each other less and less as the years pass.

And then he hears in passing that Tommy's reconnected with some of the 118, that he's spending time with all of them again, and he shoots him a text to catch up because you flew into a hurricane to rescue the guy who fired me but mostly he's just curious to know how he managed not to get fired.

Tommy invites him out for drinks. They settle in a corner booth and shoot the shit and Tommy tells him about how Hen is doing, how Howie is doing, about his new buddy Eddie and all the drama surrounding the 118. He keeps eyeing his phone, and Sal doesn't think much of it until Tommy's smile lines start to dimple and he tips his head up and grins, wide and happy as he waves at the guy who'd just stepped in.

Sal's pretty sure he recognizes him. One of the 118, maybe even the guy who'd filled the spot Sal had left open there. His grin is wide and his eyes are bright and Tommy shifts out of the booth to hug him and they linger in it, Tommy's face pressed into his neck and the guys hands drifting low across Tommy's waist, and when Tommy turns to introduce him as Buck the guys face scrunches up like that's a strange way to introduce him but he shakes Sal's hand and he slips right into the booth and he's rattling off a million questions like he's heard a hundred and two stories he wants Sal to confirm.

And Sal - he doesn't remember ever enjoying time with Tommy's boyfriends, doesn't remember seeing Tommy's gaze so focused and intent, so heavy. But this Buck guy keeps a hand on Tommy's knee, or his neck, not in a possessive way really, just like he can't quite stop reminding himself that Tommy is there with him, and Tommy is playing it cool but he's soaking it up, rolling his eyes at Buck's praise but ducking his head when Buck's not looking, darting gazes through his eyelashes and desperately fighting grins and giving the same energy back and no one, no one has ever treated Tommy so delicately, so carefully, no one has ever shot Tommy bedroom eyes with quite so much unadulterated adoration.

Buck goes to buy another round and Tommy's eyes flit to Sal's.

"He's a lot," Sal says, because he's not quite sure how to encapsulate "I know you guys said this was still fairly new but I'm already planning out the bachelor party where you get drunk and soppy and tell me you wish he was here with you."

"I should have mentioned he might come," Tommy tells him, and Sal narrows in on that.

"Why didn't you?"

Tommy shifts. His shoulders curl in. He chews on the inside of his cheek. "I figured some things out, after I started at Harbor. Took a long look at my life up to that point. The way you always hated every guy I introduced you to percolated long enough for me to understand it."

It's Sal's turn to feel like a jackass. "You thought I'd hate him too."

"I hoped you wouldn't."

Sal sighs. Catches sight of Buck tilting sideways at the bartop so he can send an eager grin in Tommy's direction. If he had a tail he'd be wagging it, Sal thinks, and then he thinks a little harder. About the easy way Tommy grins back, about the way he eyes Buck up and down, leering a little for his audience of one, and the way Buck bites his lip and his gaze goes dark and heady and the way he has to fucking blink himself out of it when the bartender hands him their drinks.

Sal knocks his knuckles on the table. "He fucks it up I'm reserving the right to show up unannounced at his job to make him fix it," Sal tells him, and Tommy's gaze is a little misty when it meets Sal's.

Buck slides in next to Tommy and passes out drinks and when he leans back and starts on a tirade about the travesty of shot pours he'd just witnessed, his hand lands a lot higher up Tommy's leg than it has all night. Tommy takes a heavy pull off his beer and grins at Buck like he's never been more enchanted by another living soul.

Sal's incensed when Tommy refuses to have a bachelor party unless both grooms are involved.

[carveus]

Eternally quietly fuming that the accepted meaning of Hanahaki Disease got turned into unrequieted love from the original of unadmitted love.

Because oh my god the beautiful metaphor of having to try and keep everything locked inside only for your body to physically turn those feelings into beauty that slowly choke you to death?

Fucking Sublime.

[emillungs]

some unfinished moiraine x liandrin art

[darkwings-and-horcruxes]

There’s this deep possessiveness at the center of Luffy’s chest whenever he looks at Sanji. 

Come with me. Be mine. I want you. 

But he can’t take him by force - no matter how much he wants him. Sanji has chained himself to the Baratie with ropes made of grief and guilt, and he’s hard-pressed to let go, even now.

People don’t stay for Luffy, but he’s hoping Sanji may stay with him for the sake of his Dream. That’ll be enough - to have Sanji by his side while they accomplish their dreams together. 

Or maybe, he’ll stay with him for the sake of Nami. Luffy knows the way the others have written Sanji’s flirtations off, but there’s a depth to Sanji’s feelings, visible in the way that he looks at Nami like she’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, like he’s blessed to have her near him. Maybe Luffy’s not worth staying for, but Nami is. It's why he’s going after her despite everything she says.

No matter the reason, he just needs Sanji to stay.

[k3t4min5]

maybe in another universe i'm the one you want

[dreadark]

regardless of how exactly you interpret ivan and till's relationship, two things are undeniably true:

ivan is the person who cares most about till till is the person who cares most about ivan

and yet…...

[honeypleasejustkillme]

oh to be loved without telling how i want to be loved

[runraerun]

Billy with hanahaki disease ?🌸?

Pain!:’)

I love it! Here ya go🌸🩸

Fic prompts are: OPEN if anyone else is interested 💌 -> 📬

Tw; blood, slight body horror.

—

It started shortly after Billy moved to this shitty little town in the middle of assfuck nowhere. He chalked it up to the air quality being dogshit compared to California, or maybe he was allergic to that pungent smell of manure that the locals seemed totally nose blind to. The absolute last thing he would have considered was a goddamn plant had started growing inside of him–a love plant.

It was rare. You were only susceptible to it if you had a certain gene that you inherited from your maternal line. Lucky him.

Guess he can’t say his mom left him with nothing when she packed her shit up and skipped town. No, instead of a forwarding address, Billy’s mom left him her shitty, fairy genes. Thanks, Mom. Real swell of you.

“Has there been anyone you’ve had your eye on?” The school nurse asks, voice pitched low, gentle, like she was trying to soothe some kind of volatile beast.

Billy spits another mouthful of blood into the pan he’s holding, the crumpled up flower petals that he’d just finished hacking up look like chunks of his lung rather than a part of a plant. Runs his tongue along his teeth to try and fish anything out that may have gotten left behind in the carnage.

“No.” He says, stubbornly. He doesn’t look up from the pan.

“Well, Hanahaki disease can only take root under very specific circumstances. It feeds off a pheromone our bodies release when we experience a certain emotion; the stress of a love that’s unrequited. It’s the only–”

“I said no, alright?” Billy barks, voice still a little ragged from his coughing fit. Like he’d swallowed with a mouthful of gravel. “Get off my back.”

The nurse sighs, but she doesn’t move to stop him when he puts the pan down beside him and gets to his feet.

“It’ll only get worse if you ignore it, Mr. Hargrove.” She warns.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” Billy mutters, but he doesn’t have the energy to put any heat behind his words, so it doesn’t do much to wipe that stupid sympathetic look from her face. He grabs his jean jacket and leaves, shoving the door open with enough force that it slams back against the wall.

Despite his repeated denial, Billy knew who was responsible for this fucking mess.

Steve Harrington.

With his perfect hair and his stupid fucking Bambi eyes, lighting up every goddamn room he strode into with those long legs of his. Jesus… How could Billy ever have stood a chance?

Just thinking of him brought a tickle to the back of Billy’s throat. He suppresses a cough into his fist as he stomps down the hallway, now empty due to everyone else having gone home for the day. Except Billy, who of course couldn’t fucking breathe after gym class today after getting a little too rough with Steve.

It hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary, but something about the way Steve elbowed Billy away, how he barked at him to give him some breathing space, yelled at Billy to fuck off already—it had Billy’s chest acting up.

He held out for most of the class, fighting against the fucking petals that were pushing their way up through his fucking esophagus by beating at his chest, shouting to clear his airways, but then in the showers, Steve had avoided him completely. Had somehow managed to slip and out of the stalls without Billy noticing, depriving him of their usual naked back and forth banter that Billy had come to look forward to.

It was one thing for Steve to hate him, but it was another thing entirely for Steve to be indifferent toward him. That was way fucking worse.

The sting of rejection quickly turned to a coughing fit, worse than any he had experienced before. Like he’s hacking up a fucking lung. A few of the other boys had asked him, ‘you okay man?’ or, ‘should we get the coach?’, and worst of all, ‘oh shit is that blood?’

Billy was barely able to shove his legs back into his jeans and shoulder one of his classmates out of his way before he stumbled into the nurse’s office.

Fat lot of good that did him…

He’s gotta pick up Max. He can’t afford to hang around and talk about his pathetic, one-sided love with a complete stranger anyway. Billy leaves the school, gets into his car, puts the windows down and cranks the music as loud as he can stand it, and he tries very hard not to think about Steve and this ever growing thing that’s taken root inside of his chest, steadily consuming him from the inside out.

Christ, who knew he was such a fucking romantic…

[fembunidoll]

the sapphic need to take care of her and treasure her and kiss every inch of her and bite the inside of her thighs and make her cum on my tongue until every last worry fades from her pretty little mind and the only thing left is how much i love her, how good i am to her, how well i pamper her