#that came out saltier than intended

[doodles-dearest]

made this for my bf for valentines idk if hes read it yet but i hope whoever sees this does ((late) update: he did!! xe loves it!! im a happy boyo now with validation <3)

Steve just made the biggest mistake of his life.

Worse than giving up his carefree life to become a people pleasing king of highschool.

Worse than going to apologise to Nancy back in '83, only to get dragged into all that Upside Down bullshit.

Worse than everything he ever did.

He let his chance with Eddie Munson go, and now he's sitting in the rain, wishing he wasn't a coward.

———

Valentine's Day. A day of love, of cheesy cards, and the worst day of the year for Steve Harrington.

Every year in the past he told himself it'd be different, he'd have the perfect Valentine's Day; but of course that never happened. The last good one he can remember was so long ago, he was about nine or so, and a boy (girl? Person? It was so long ago and Steve's memory was so bad nowadays that he wasn't sure) had rushed up to him and shoved a heart shaped card into his chest before running away. The card was clearly homemade, obnoxious hearts everywhere, covered in glue. It was made with love though, love that not many people had ever shown him since. Now it sat tucked in the back of Steve's closet, along with his sexuality.

This year, he was giving up. He was going to treat it like any other day, to the best of his abilities. Which was difficult, considering everyone else around him seemed to have a valentine. Robin was busy with Nancy, so hanging out with either of them was out. The kids all had their various valentines– Steve tends not to get into their love lives, the complex web that it is. Argyle and Jonathan were getting high together, which Steve reckoned was their version of a date. There was Eddie, but with a face like his and a wit like that, he was most likely snuggling up to someone too. It was strange, Steve hated picturing Eddie with someone more than he did picturing the others. The idea of Eddie wrapping an arm around a girl's shoulder, offering them his jacket, glancing at their lips, sent a dark, hostile feeling creeping through Steve's chest. He tried to ignore the thought.

So, Steve just decided that once his shift was over, he'd go home and get as wasted as possible. His plans were thwarted however, when the very metalhead he was just thinking of came trotting into Family Video, his chains and rings clinking as he walked, announcing his arrival.

"Ah, Munson, here to grab a rom-com for your valentine?" Steve commented dully. It came out a little saltier than he'd intended.

Eddie pulled a face. "Someone's grumpy. Valentine's Day not your thing, King Stevie? I thought it would be considering you're an absolutely brilliant charmer." He waved his hands around dramatically, Steve just rolled his eyes.

"It's not my fault Valentine's is always the worst day of the year for me." He grumbled back. "Now, the rom-coms are in the section with all the dumb hearts and confetti and…" Steve waved his hands around vaguely. "Shit."

"Actually, my dear Stevie, I'm also without a valentine. So, I was wondering if you'd like to–"

Steve cut him off, that sour creeping feeling vanishing. "Get wasted out of our minds? Hell yes. My place or yours?"

Eddie looked a bit taken aback, almost like he was going to say something rather different. "Mine?"

"Sounds great." Steve smiled, his eyes brighter now. "I'll see you after my shift."

"Need me to pick you up, big boy?" Eddie smirked. Steve rolled his eyes again, but he couldn't help but feel a certain type of hotness under his collar due to the nickname.

"I'll be fine, thanks. See you in a bit." Steve grinned.

The metalhead gave him finger guns and imitated a southern accent. "Whatever you say, pardner." And he trotted out the store as if on a horse, leaving Steve giggling and smiling.

———

The rest of the day went better, thankfully. Sure there were lovey dovey couples coming in to get their movies that they'd inevitably neglect just so they could make goo goo eyes at each other, but Steve had Eddie and booze to look forward to, and that thought kept him light and airy all throughout the day. He watched as the clock ticked to 5 and he rushed out the door, flipping the open sign to closed, before jumping into his beamer and racing off to the trailer, unable to stop smiling.

At that point he wasn't sure why he was so happy, really. It was just two guys hanging out and getting drunk on Valentine's Day. That was normal.

"Normal friend stuff." He mumbled to himself as he parked. He felt a sudden pang in his stomach of… surely not– butterflies. No, not butterflies, you can't get butterflies for someone you're just friends with. He was just nervous. But why would he be nervous? He sighed and shook his head. He was being an idiot; so much of an idiot in fact that he hadn't noticed Eddie tapping on the window.

"You gonna sit out here all evening, Stevie boy?" He said with a lopsided grin. Steve rolled his eyes and got out. He did that alot with Eddie; not in a dismissive way, of course. He just felt he had to, or else he'd let something else out, something he wouldn't be able to explain away.

And he definitely came close to a reaction like that when Eddie presented a heart shaped box. "For you." His tone was more subdued, his smile suddenly less confident. Steve took them with some hesitation, wondering if it was some sort of joke.

"They're chocolates." Eddie broke the silence that Steve didn't even realise had begun. "There's a dumb card inside too, here." He took the box back, their hands brushing for a moment Steve wished lasted forever. Carefully, he opened it, and in it sat a heart shaped card, almost exactly like the one Steve had received so many years ago. It had the same type of obnoxious hearts glued on, but placed with more articulation this time. He took the card, holding it as if it were a valuable antique. Without even needing to open it to see the chicken-scratch handwriting of "To Steve", he could feel the love put in it. He hoped Eddie might've signed his name this time, so he'd remember who brightened up his Valentine's.

Eddie was looking at him intensely, studying his expression, trying to read his emotions. "It's stupid, I'm sorry." He mumbled, taking Steve's silence as a bad sign.

"Thank you." Steve practically whispered, his eyes meeting Eddie's. They stayed like that, for a moment, their brown eyes locked together for what seemed like an eternity. Steve wasn't sure if Eddie could tell how much the gift meant, but in his heart he hoped he could. In Eddie's eyes though, he could see so much hurt, so much hope. The gift meant a lot to him too, it was to test the waters, to see if perhaps, Steve might like him in a way different to friendship.

Steve felt like Eddie could see so much of him at that moment, those big brown eyes pierced his soul like a pin in a balloon. It was like he could see everything about him, and Steve felt bare and open. It unsettled him somewhat, while also giving him a feeling of belonging. Eddie understood, he got what Steve had been through. He just wasn't ready to share that part of himself with Eddie yet, and so, Steve broke the moment, looking away at the floor.

"We should head inside, it's freezing." He mumbled, slowly walking into the trailer, clutching the card to his chest. Eddie lagged behind briefly before catching him up, and then, he put his jacket around Steve's shoulders. This was all… new. This affection. He wasn't sure what to make of it, really. It stirred feelings in him, feelings he tried so hard to bury so long ago. He didn't say anything, just kept on walking.

"Wanna watch a movie or something then?" Eddie smiled, his confidence returning. This was becoming more and more like a date as it went on, Steve noted. He tried to ignore it. Just two guys watching a movie on Valentine's Day.

"Totally normal and platonic." Steve mumbled.

Eddie frowned confusedly. "What was that?"

"Nothing, uh, nothing." Steve shook his head. "We can watch a movie if you want, yeah."

Eddie smiled again, and how Steve wished he could make Eddie smile like that more. "Great, what do you want, The Wicker Man, The Dead Zone–"

Steve grimaced. Despite having seen ungodly horrors in his real life, he still couldn't handle horror movies.

Eddie rolled his eyes and smiled. "Fine, what do you suggest then?"

"That Star Wars one? You know, it's called, uh… Back to the Future?"

And so began their night of idiocy, dumbassery and intoxication.

———

A couple hours later, and Steve was so drunk he could barely move. Eddie, who handled his booze better, was very entertained by Steve's drunken antics.

"And so, Eds, I told her, d'you know who pauses Fast Times at fifty–" He paused to hiccup. "Fifty three minutes 'n' five seconds? People who like boobies, y'know? Boobies!" Steve flourished with his hands, waving them about so dramatically that he nearly rolled off the couch.

Eddie giggled; while yes, he could handle his alcohol, he was still drunk. "I don't like boobies."

"What? Dude, c'mon, they're boobies, you can just…" Steve made grabbing motions with his hands. "Squish squish."

Eddie sighed. "No it's not that I don't like boobies altogether, it's just… I only like 'em on men."

There was silence for a moment, as it sunk in for both of them that Eddie had just outed himself.

"Men boobies." Steve giggled.

Eddie nodded and smiled. "Men boobies."

———

More time passed, and soon they were fresh out of alcohol and were sobering up slowly. They were sitting in a comfortable silence, when Eddie asked the question.

"Do you like men?"

Steve didn't respond. The effects of the alcohol and his head starting to throb didn't put him in the best state to answer. He wanted to say yes, because that was the honest answer, but all his life he'd been told that he didn't. Yes he knew the people telling him that were wrong on basically every other account but when you're told something enough times, you start to believe it, no matter who's saying it.

Eddie was looking at him. "Steve?"

"I don't know." Steve sighed and brushed a hand through his hair.

"Well…" Eddie sounded hesitant. "We could find out?"

Steve looked at him, only to see him getting closer, looking at his lips, leaning in and…

———

That's all Steve can remember. The next thing he knew he was at Lovers Lake at quarter to four in the morning, gazing into the water, raindrops pattering down on him, he'd be shivering if it weren't for Eddie's jacket.

He ran away, and now he's sitting all alone, drunk, on Valentine's Day. He had a chance, Eddie was going to kiss him, be his valentine, love him; but he's thrown that away, and for what?

I'm a coward. He thinks to himself. A dumb little coward who can't even kiss a boy.

He wanted to. Wants to. But for some reason, in that moment he'd just ran, ran away from his friend, no, his crush. He's sure it's a crush now. What else could it be?

Then, behind him, he hears the unmistakable sound of a beaten up old van and metal music. Eddie.

He doesn't turn around, he can't face Eddie, not like this, not when he has so much shame to deal with. He could swim away, avoid the confrontation. No that's dumb. He thinks. Then, before he can think of another plan, Eddie's sitting beside him.

"Hey." Eddie whispers. "I am so, so sorry. I thought…" He sighs. "I guess I misread the signals, I thought for some dumb reason you might like me back but I–" Steves stops him talking by placing a hand on his.

"You didn't misread anything, Eds, I just panicked and ran like I always do. Feelings are just… They're confusing. I'm confused. All I know is I really, really like you." He turns to look at Eddie, to gauge his reaction, their eyes lock.

There's silence. All they can hear is the rain slowly getting more intense as they stare into each other's eyes.

Eddie drops his gaze for a second before bringing it back. "I like you too."

And so the two boys sit together in the rain, hand in hand, sitting before a heart of water as they figure out how they feel.

[astralix]

  Act 022 Crocodile Tears

Pretty Guardian ✶ Sailor Moon

Characters: Original Characters, Canon Characters-mentioned Rating: Teen, Older Teen Genre: Angst, Action, Fantasy (Magical Girl) Song: “Ice” – Lights

Disclaimer: I do not own Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon.  I only own my version of the Zodiac Senshi, Phoenix, Ophiuchus, and Andromeda.

✦✶✦

What I mean is , all I need is,Just a little emotion‘Cause all I see is you not feelingAnd you’re giving me nothing niceI tried to do you right, why’d you have to go and turn to ice(Ice)

✦✶✦

  It was the girl she disliked in Home and Economics.  Umiko Himura sighed and muttered under her breath an “oh great”.  The girl put laxatives in her brownies that made the entire class and Umiko have the runs.  Umiko had gotten back at the girl for sneaking the ingredient into her brownies.  She told the girl the wrong ingredients on purpose.

The cake she made came out saltier than intended and the teacher gave the girl a failing grade.  Umiko wanted to smirk but she had to keep a low profile.  She was next to present her cake to the teacher.  It was pristine and decorated as best as she could.  Umiko had watched many cake decorating videos the last couple of days on her computer and television.  Umiko was a little scared about the taste testing portion of the class, but was relieved the teacher loved her cake.  She smiled and bowed her head in thanks for the grade she received.

As she returned to her seat with the sliced cake, the Cancer Senshi enjoyed a slice of her own cake.  The next classmate was called to present her cake to the teacher.

The girl Umiko greatly disliked came up to her and folded her arms over her chest.

“How come your cake got a better review than mine did?  You must have given me the wrong amount for ingredients!” the girl said.  Her name was Eri.

Umiko’s bangs covered her eyes as she sniffled.  “Gosh, I’m really sorry, Eri-chan!” she said as she looked up at Eri.  Her tears fell from her eyes.  “I didn’t know I gave you the wrong ingredients until I double-checked last night.  By then it was too late to call you.  I could bake you a nice cake next time just to make up for my mistake.”

Eri growled.  “You did this on purpose, didn’t you, Himura?��� She accused Umiko.

“That’s so mean, Eri-chan!  Why would I do something so mean to you?” Umiko sobbed.  “I apologized, didn’t I?”  Umiko turned to Eri who just stomped off.  Some other girls who did not like Eri snickered at her.

“She’ll get back at you,” Yuuga told Umiko as she came back from presenting her own cake.

“Hmph!  Whatever, I’m prepared,” Umiko scoffed as she wiped her tears and continued to eat her sliced cake.  “I’ll just make her day even more miserable than she’s making mine.”

[herecomesnaya]

Thank you for that post about latest RHATO. I've seen some discourse on twitter ie how Lobdell is suddenly a shitty writer and a monster because he supposedly redeemed Jason's bio dad and made Bruce abusive and it's so ooc. What makes it even funnier is when these posts advise people to read pre-Rebirth Batman stories if they want to see the real and well written Bruce Wayne. The same Bruce who chose to cut Jason's throat with a batarang in order to save the Joker and left Jason to die (1)

2 in the rubble. The same Bruce who frequently punched Dick and did other shitty things. And you're right - that fight between Bruce and Jason is all about pride, betrayal, emotional repression, and sexual frustration. The last one is even spelled out in the book itself when Jason basically tells Bruce that their showdown is probably more about Bruce's failed play date than about Jason shooting Penguin. And it's what prompts B to be even more enraged and brutal. So, nothing new for them both.

hoooo boy you say a lot of good things in this ask!!

I really hate that people are calling Willis narratively redeemed just because we saw things from his point of view once. first off, unreliable narration much? second, people are allowed to have good intentions and still turn out to be bad people. third, and I’ve talked about this before, but the ties of family are really strong even if that family treats you like trash. Jason has a huge heart (Star Sapphires, hit him up), so it’s obvious he’d be drawn in by love for his father even if Willis doesn’t deserve it.

second, Bruce has always been an abusive my-way-or-the-highway prick! he’s been this way for literal decades! and protip: if a character has been written that way for that long, mmmmaaaaybe it’s not bad writers who don’t know what they’re doing. maybe you just like a version of Batman you’ve built up in your head who can do no wrong, or who only makes minor missteps.

Batman’s whole character is built on the fact that he’s an egotistical, obsessive maniac who thinks that he knows best. much as he trots out the “let the law take care of it” line, he certainly doesn’t believe that the police can do their jobs! he became Batman because he thought he could do better than literally everyone else.

I know I’m not the first to say that the concept of Robin is super fucked up. sure, we let things slide because it’s a comic book, but if you’re going to look critically at Bruce through an out-of-universe lens, then you’ve got to at least try to be fair about it. he trains children to fight with him on a crusade that he’s admitted multiple times they can never win! he is not an inherently good guy!

but here’s something apparently controversial in fandom nowadays: that’s why we’re supposed to like him. we like Batman because he isn’t a shining beacon of morality like Superman. we like him because he’s gritty and ridiculous and stubborn and a huge asshole. we like him because he fights an impossible fight and gives over his life to a dangerous crusade despite all odds. we like that he accidentally creates villains in an attempt to save his city. we like that he fucks up.

at least, I do. I enjoy characters that have flaws that are allowed to have a little life in the narrative, rather than the one-and-done “he does something wrong and everyone says it’s wrong and he repents for doing wrong” sort of setup that seems so popular on this website. it’s called telling a story. that’s how fiction fucking works, you guys!!

so, yeah. y’all can stan for the Bruce Wayne who loves all his kids equally and unconditionally and apologizes when he’s wrong and behaves like an emotionally healthy person, and I’ll be over here enjoying the actual character that DC has created.

[ahufflepuffhobbit]

4, 6, 8, 41, 45!!

Thank you, love! Sorry it took me a few days <3

Have you ever been published, or do you want to be published? I have not been published. I think I would like to be, but I think the thing holding me back is my lack of confidence in developing my own world/characters. I've tried writing original fiction before and I get way more discouraged than I do writing fanfic, soooo maybe one day?

Single or multiple POV? I do both! Most of my works tend to be more single POV, because I do come from a primarily RP background, but I've been playing with it a little more, and my current project is multiple POV.

Oldest WIP. Oh, man. I'll Die to Care for You is my oldest, merely because it's one of my few multichapters and I got very ambitious with it lol my oldest WIP one shot is Bottomfeeder [my merryxboromirxpippin fic ;) ]

Any advice for new/beginning/young writers? ACK this is hard because I feel like I'm one of them lol I think two things that have really helped me is not judging what I get inspired by (if it's a one off comment or a particular song, whatever). Whatever you get inspired by is just that: inspiration. It doesn't mean you're ripping anything off or anything, and even if you were - who cares? The other thing is that if you get hate, fuck them and just do it more. Whenever I get a hate comment on my fics - really only my sex scenes because people are COWARDS and don't like Thorin as a bottom - that just means I go to my outline and figure out how to write more bottom!Thorin scenes. So thank you for that, haters.

How much world building do you do? I wouldn't say I do much, because I write in Middle Earth and that's pretty well developed lol but I do add to things and I research a shit ton more than I actually need to.

[actliving]

﹣﹣  ·  𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠  · //  ❖  anonymous  whispered:

                                            do  you  have  any  unpopular  hcs  for  actor  mark  ?

all   of   them  ?    beyond   fetishization   of   his   presumed   lack   of   morality    &&    blatant   projection   the   fandom   really   doesn’t   put   much   thought   into   his   character  .

i   guess   my   most   controversial   hc   is   that   his   relationship   with   the   manor   was   adversarial  .    rather   than   him   being   solely   a   victim   or   partner  .    the   house   used   him  ,    yes  ,    but   it   was   a   messy  ,    bloody   process  ,    up   until   the   bitter   end  .    

what   we   see   in   the    damien    project   is   less   actually   mark   as   it   is   the   result   of   that   messy  ,    bloody   process  .

[lovecolibri]

SaL anon here friend, wishing you a Happy New Year 🎉🎆🍾!! Hope things are going well so far and you're not too drenched in ice or snow or cold (my brother is in NM and he's freezing his ass off apparently). For reasons that definitely include the upcoming season's proximity, I'm going to try to get more into 911 LS this year. I've decided that while we've got excellent taste in ships, we've done poorly in focusing on shows where those ships can thrive, meaning they have a showrunner who can

tell a compelling story, writers who can bring that story to life, and a promo team that can get the audience excited. Let's take just promo for example. LS just came out with its 2nd or 3rd trailer and it's still 3 week's away!! Even if they are also doing smaller emergencies, the frog storm looked a hell of a lot of more exciting than the blimp "emergency". And from what I've seen of the stills, it will feature a lot of Tarlos, and I haven't seen much in the way of guest stars. Contrast that with RNM. We all remember the seasonal promo posters that looked like an elementary school project and the 5 sec episode previews they abandoned during S4 (this isn't even considering the episode synopsis where if a particular character was mentioned my excitement level flatlined). Then there's the Malex if it all, remember we got so excited when a still of them was promoted on Twitter for 4x02 since it had literally never been done before?? Sad days. And as for OG lately we've gotten confusing/inaccurate episode synopsis, previews of scenes that were made to look intense and turned out to be "meh", stills released right before the episode and then 50 scenes released the day it premieres. Its a mess. And I guess I can't complain that those things didn't feature Buddie since there wasn't anything in the season for them to feature.  I don't think we have to rehash the baffling and horrible writing choices of both RNM and OG's showrunners those are well documented. So that leaves the individual writing of each show, where RNM abandoned logic and 911 abandoned emotion in order to force scenes that did no one any favors. Anyway this got longer than intended and ultimately saltier, I was trying to say Happy New Year and it turned into this. So again happy New year!! Maybe with time and GA input KR will come up with a plotline that doesn't make me hear nails on a chalkboard when it's mentioned.

Hi my friend and Happy New Year to you as well, even though this is now a few days late. (I wanted to finish the book I started yesterday, a sequel to a romcom I very much enjoyed and one of the only actual books I’ve managed to read recently, but it ended up being kind of awful and torpedoed my whole day and sucked the serotonin right out of me instead of giving me MORE like it was supposed to 😒😒😒 hate this for me. So I put this off a little longer so I didn’t end up being TOO salty or going off on a fully unrelated tangent). Luckily I’m back home where it’s chilly (for me) but nothing too wet or miserable and I got to enjoy some sweatpants for a few days before I have to go back to my cold office and uncomfortable work clothes.

You’re so right, we DO have excellent taste in ships but whooo boy WHAT is the deal with being shafted by shows? (And now books too apparently because my life is a joke, hell bent on not allowing me to thrive with the things I find joy in.) I have been soooo jealous of not just the promo coming out so early, but also official stills coming from set during filming! OG couldn’t even get stills for for some episodes until a few hours before airing! To say nothing of the incorrect synopsis/previews, and 700 clips released on episode day messes. Plus LS got new cast photos this year while OG has still been using stuff from s1-2!  I’m not gonna lie, I haven’t been paying much if any attention to news about LS so all I know is the Tarlos stuff sounds really exciting and the only guest stars I remember is for some FBI/DEA something or other operation that (of course) Owen is for some reason involved in helping with. Color me unsurprised. But knowing that’s how LS has been pretty much from the jump, it’s easier to just grit my teeth through the Owen centricity and sometimes it’s at least entertaining 🤷🏻‍♀️ The frog thing sounds interesting but definitely feels like a “hook” that’s going to end up being almost nothing and quickly resolved but if we’re lucky we’ll at least get some jokes out of it about TK taking one home and Carlos getting a panicked look about it. Also, the LS emergencies have never had quite the resonance or the tie in with the main plots that OG had so them cutting back after the ice storm (which really was excessive at 4 episodes and by cutting down on the weird Owen centricity could have been done in 2 *maybe* 2.5 or 3 episodes tops, revolving around the group as a whole more) isn’t probably going to change the format of regular episodes much from previous seasons. But with the wedding coming up, the possibility of Carlos getting injured, and Ronan being a tease and really excited for multiple episodes, I feel like the Tarlos stuff is going to be really good!

I’m cackling because taking shots at the RNM promo department will never NOT be funny. I mean, honestly WTF was their deal with promo posters?! *insert “is this a promo poster for ANTS” gif here* At least they were somewhat more honest by always seaming to make Alex the smallest and furthest away and never near Michael which is....mostly what we got after s1 so 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️. Not that OG 911 is much better since there’s a fan that does massively impressive posters for episodes that completely outshine anything the official team does.

ANYWAY, I’m with you down in the salt mine and surrounded by wasted potential so lets hope this year we can finally get some more fulfilling stories/storylines, and that our beloved OG wee-woos can get back on track. The only good thing about them having a longer hiatus is they have the chance to take the reaction to the finale, especially Buck’s mess of a storyline, and 6a as a whole into consideration and maybe make some changes. Honestly if they completely dropped Buck’s storyline and it never came up ever again I wouldn’t even care and would actually prefer that at this point. Remember when he got meaty storylines that involved the other main characters and was the focus for a few episodes and then arcs finished and new ones started and we got several things going on for multiple characters at once? *cracked voice* yeah.... Well, here’s to hoping! 🍾🥂 *clink*

[ganymedesclock]

how do you figure that the knight has a personality. from what i've seen, it's purpose is to stop the plague, and every action it takes is to further that goal. there aren't any sidequests that bring it to other, irrelevant things.

Anon pardon me for being rude but this just sounds a lot like you really weren’t paying any attention at all.

The first thing Ghost did was leave Hallownest entirely

They came back specifically because Hollow was dying. Numerous people speculate or imply about this and it is shown to us in the opening cinematic- Hollow screams, and then Ghost specifically returns to Hallownest. Given Ghost shows neither loyalty nor reverence to any figure of the Pale King, in any route, it is hard for me to believe this is their instruction.

Literally numerous characters explicitly discuss that Ghost is making independent decisions. Open the wiki and find a character page and read their dialogue. I challenge you to find basically any character in the entire game who has more than a single sentence of dialogue, that does not talk about Ghost making choices and having opinions. 

The soundtrack that plays during Hollow’s fight sharply changes tonally in response to Hollow stabbing themselves. No one else is observing Hollow. “We” as player do not have a presence that is acknowledged in the meta of the game. Ever. Ergo: These moments of sadness are emotions we are told that Ghost has.

The person who tells us that Ghost is empty was wrong about it explicitly and big time. Literally the entire reason Hollow didn’t work is because the Pale King was wrong about the vessels and his entire civilization ate shit because of it. In case you missed the charnel pit filled with dead children, or the fact that you basically find his dead body curled up in an empty throne room where you then have to smack it out of its chair and onto the floor in order to clear the area, PK is not a trustworthy source of information. He is factually observably incorrect about several things (see: the lore tablet in the Howling Cliffs that states there “is no world beyond” and implies sapience only exists within Hallownest’s bounds when half the cast casually talks about and is canonically shown via things like Quirrel’s prequel comic to have come to Hallownest from outside, and been sapient the whole time. PK HIMSELF came to Hallownest from the outside and was sapient. 

Also the specific thing you cite that would be counter-evidence to Ghost lacking a personality happens. like. all the time. Things that aren’t relevant to Ghost’s Assigned Objective:

Literally any ending except “Hollow Knight” which you can complete by ignoring everyone and running in a straight line to the goal. Even that ending requires Ghost to conduct independent synthesis of ideas to figure out how to complete this, which an entity that has a personality and thoughts does things. 

Any objective that requires the Kingsoul calls for you to wander what White Lady notes is a long way off the path and obtain objects you were never “supposed” to have when your path ahead to replace Hollow is clear.

Every aspect of the Delicate Flower quest

The Colosseum of Fools

The entirety of the Grimm Troupe DLC

The entirety of Hidden Dreams DLC

The entirety of Godmaster DLC

Sitting with Quirrel at the conclusion of his storyline

Sitting and listening to Marissa

Meditating with Mato, or seeking out the Nailmasters in the first place

Beating up Millibelle for robbing you

Accepting the Hunter’s Journal and completing it

Fighting Hornet a second time and acquiring the King’s Brand (which is used to defy an explicit order of the Pale King, that the Abyss is to be left sealed)

The grub sidequest

Pursuing any of the character storylines, such as Cloth, Bretta, Tiso, or Elderbug’s to its logical conclusion

This list is incomplete and could continue

It certainly looks like actually most of the game consists of actions that make no sense from the perspective of an empty creature who is completely apathetic, lacks a personality, and only obeys orders given to it by PK, and, after all, we are roleplaying the experience of being Ghost, considering never at any point does the game ever acknowledge the player as an entity or break the fourth wall. The closest it comes is the Shrine of Believers which is extremely esoteric to access.

It would also certainly seem I’m really mad about it, which I am: Anon, please consider that I am an autistic adult. Please consider that many people with autism, especially in childhood, can be:

Nonverbal

Prone to repetitive behavior or acting in a way that others describe as “robotic”

Lack what is considered “typical emoting” / could seem to be “blank-faced”

Basically, everything the vessels are. And autistic people are, you know, real actual human beings with thoughts and feelings. You know what people argue, all the time? That we aren’t. Especially young nonverbal kids.

Do you understand maybe why I am saltier than small oceans about this subject?

If so, I really hope you understand that while I cannot physically reach through the screen and stop you from believing this, broaching this attitude does cause me, as an autistic person, to trust you significantly less, especially since we are talking about a game that calls a huge amount of attention to the fact that all of the vessels suffered and were hurt by what was done to them. Broken Vessel reaches out to you when they fall. Hollow actively stabs themselves during their fight to prevent Radiance from using themselves to hurt you and comes back as a Shade to attack her in Dream No More.

To insist there’s not evidence of Ghost having a personality is to both insist, in arrogance, that all of the humanity of playing Hollow Knight is only brought by the player- when we are not a force that exists in this world- and to deny the fact that there is anything wrong with the Abyss. Which is clearly not the conclusion the game intended to present you with. There is a reason we feel something about the Abyss, and not about the workshop in the White Palace where bits of Kingsmould armor are stacked up. And even the Kingsmoulds, it’s made clear, have at least the capacity to grow and form opinions given the implications of The Collector.

[thisismydesignhannibal]

The Stories We Tell Ourselves

My fic contribution to Leda and the Swan Fest @SwedaFest!

After their extraordinary dinner of "long pork" Lomo Saltado, Will finds himself stalling as the evening with Hannibal winds down... Until Hannibal’s Leda And The Swan painting and a tempting offer he wasn't expecting prove just the surprising catalyst required for an impending reckoning. Maybe the evening doesn’t have to end after all?

Rating: Explicit. See AO3 for tags <3

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A huge thank you to my dear readers for enduring my long writing hiatus. I’ve missed you! Life has been kicking us all while we’re down I think, so I’ll avoid any sob stories. But I’m glad to be back! Thank you for sticking with me and for all your words of encouragement. I love this fandom! XO

A big thanks to @fragile-teacup​ for being the best Beta <3

_________________________________________________________

Will caught himself pushing the last few bites of dessert aimlessly around his plate. It was delicious, of course, and he wasn’t overly full.

He realised, with no small amount of irritation, that he was stalling.

If you realised that, so will he.

He looked up to meet Hannibal’s eyes across the dining room table, studying him. He watched the slow spread of a smile, less a movement of his features than some kind of subtle telepathy, felt more than seen.

“Would you care for another serving, Will? I wouldn’t want to end anything prematurely.”

See?

Will shifted in his seat and forced a smile of his own, perhaps a little caustic. He cleared his throat, just a little too loud in the quiet room.

“I think this meal was enough, Hannibal, don’t you?”

It came out a little saltier than he’d intended. But Will had to admit, he was dragging his heels, not wanting to finish the meal, hesitant to break the spell. And to his annoyance, he was apparently choosing to play with his food rather than face whatever came next. Still, he didn’t put down his fork.

Hannibal responded as though Will’s snark was entirely to be expected, which, he had to concede, it generally was.

“Enough is a matter of perspective, Will. There’s always room for more... when there’s an appetite. But please, take your time. We’re in no hurry.”

Will hated just how much comfort those words gave him, blunting his growing but familiar sense of unease as the world re-insinuated itself. Hannibal continued to sit quietly across from him, expression neutral but watchful, seemingly in no rush to fill the silence that had fallen between them.

The room felt warm and close, self-contained but fragile, like a dream fragmenting at the edge of wakefulness. The dinner plates had all been removed from the table, the accusatory evidence of their  Lomo Saltado  gone with them, leaving Will picking at his final bites of dessert and trying to pretend the world hadn’t shifted on its axis.

Why do I even bother pretending? Why hide anything from him? He sees it all anyway.  

Keep Reading On AO3

[hermitcraftfun]

*DISCLAIMER*

This is not intended to be ship content! This is merely a fun au! Any characters that were intended to be in a relationship in the source material are no longer in one!

This is the first installment of my Coraline AU! Comment below or message me if you want to be added to the taglist.

Chapter 1: The Pink Palace

It was a quiet, chilly day when The Jones’ arrived at their new home in Oregon. The youngest of them, Tubbo was wandering around, excited to explore when he was released from unloading duties. If the boy remembered correctly there was a well nearby. Scanning the ground he found something that would help.

Picking up the Y-shaped branch the little green-haired boy followed the wind as it whipped around. A smile curled upon his lips as he could smell an oncoming thunderstorm, the air tasting saltier than it did in Michigan. Despite expecting it to start thundering soon he was nonetheless startled by a crash of thunder. He paused where he stood and looked around his eyes widening when a flash of lightning accompanied a loud growl. The young boy didn’t want to get eaten, so of course, he started to run away from the sound looking around.

Thunder and lightning crashed once more before he turned and sitting on a stump in front of him was the source of that demonic growling.”Stupid cat! You scared the living daylights outta me!”The young boy exclaimed to the blonde stray. He sighed and lifted the “dowsing rod” back up hoping to find the well he had initially come up here to investigate.

After a bit of pacing in circles, there was a particularly loud clap of thunder that lasted longer than supposed to and sounded like a dirt bike. Tubbo looked over and at the top of the hill ahead of him was a man in a strange mask. The man-made his way down the hill as Tubbo stood in place trying to process what was happening. One thing Tubbo knew was he was gonna stand his ground. He raised the stick and hit the figure while it was driving by. Whatever tongs or grasping tool the being had it grabbed him and yanked him off of his feet from where he was staying.

Tubbo yelped and looked over at the figure that had just dragged him to the ground. The mask came off and… That was a child. Probably the same age as the green-haired boy. “Let me guess… Somewhere barren… Like Utah or Texas? Y’know. You seem to be some sort of water witch.”The blonde asked, tilting his head to the side, examining the stick a smirk widening on his cheek.

“It’s a dowsing rod.”Tubbo huffed standing and groaning a bit when he felt the aches from being dragged off his feet. He swiped mud off of his raincoat and looked at the kid. “I’m Tubbo.”He greeted watching as the cat curled around the boy’s legs.

The blonde smiled. “Tobias… Quite a simple name for someone with such an eccentric hairstyle.” The boy lifted the ginger cat and pet it, letting the animal rest around his shoulders. “I’m Tommy. Short for Te’oma. This is the local stray.”He explained frowning when he heard a chuckle from the other, shorter boy.

Tubbo found the name funny. A weird name for a weird kid he figured. “Hey… Would you happen to know anything about a well around here?” He hoped to find the well and maybe find some bugs.

There was a short pause. “Yeah. I just saved you from falling in. What do you think I was doing?”Tommy questioned going over and swiping away the mud from the spot where Tubbo was standing, revealing the opening of the well. “See. Would’ve cracked under your weight…. One kid fell and they never found his body y'know.”It was a matter of fact tone. As if it should’ve been common knowledge to the kid who just moved here.

Both heads jerked looking to the source of a loud bell.”Te’oma! Te’oma!”An elderly woman shouted and Tommy sighed going to his dirt bike. “Alright… Well… Stay safe in that house, Tobias…” Tommy looked over as Tubbo lifted his “dowsing rod” and smiled. “Wear gloves… That may or may not be Poison Oak!”The boy quickly hopped on and chuckled as a stick hit the back of his head as he drove down the hill to his home.

---

Tubbo had gone home and slept soundly that night. He was excited to go through and organize the house plants and seeds they had. He went to work as soon as he could and began going through the box of seeds and looking around the house setting the seed packets where each plant would go. His father and uncle were working as he began moving the small plants he could.

Soon though he came to one he couldn’t move. “Dad! Can you help me!? I’m trying to move the Peace Lily!”The green-headed kid shouted, still trying to hoist the plan up despite knowing he was too weak to carry it on his own.

Jordan sighed. “Tubbo, I can’t! Ask Uncle Eret!”The boy’s father shouted back as he kept working. Tubbo sighed and skipped to his uncle’s office.

“Eret….? Could you help me move some of the plants? I planned where all of them could go…” Tubbo was quiet as he gently scratched his palms looking at his surrogate parent as he waited for a response.

Eret sighed and glanced back. “I can’t… I need to finish up the catalog… But… Some kid left this for you. Maybe you can look around and count the doors or something…. Just give your dad and me some peace alright. I promise the second we can the house will be flourishing.” Tubbo sighed and hugged his uncle briefly before skipping to the kitchen with the package.

When he had a sandwich and a notebook he sat and counted the doors and windows before he started eating. While he was eating he unwrapped the gift and squinted. The doll looked just like him. Even the buttons on the eyes were brown. He sighed and finished eating.

Despite the size of the place it didn’t take long to count everything. So when Tubbo made it to the final room he huffed seeing there wasn’t anything left to do. He walked around holding the doll by his arms peaking in the boxes of decorations. He pulled a box of snowglobes to the fireplace wanting to start decorating. He paused when he saw a tiny door wallpapered over. He hummed and left the room.

Tubbo was in the dining room. “Dad.. where are the keys that the house came with?” He questioned not wanting to interrupt his father’s writing too much. He rested against the door frame as his father looked up and pointed to a drawer of an old buffet table beside the dining table.

Tubbo kissed his cheek when he found an old looking key that didn’t match the doors he had counted. Skipping back to the living room he sat and hummed pulling out a pocket knife from his jeans pocket, cutting away the wallpaper and carving a tiny hole for the key and sticking it in. He set the knife aside and turned the lock and held his breath.”Ready little me?”He softly asked.

Once he made the doll give a tiny nod he smiled to himself and opened it. Tubbo frowned when there was nothing behind the door. Just bricks. He closed the door and figured he wouldn’t bother locking it. The key looked cool so he kept it with him and began organizing the globes on the mantelpiece.

Dinner wasn’t quite so peachy either. It was made by Eret so it wasn’t as good as Tubbo’s father. With a disappearing appetite, he went off to bed early carrying the doll to bed and curling up under the sheets. “Goodnight little me…” Tubbo muttered as he began to drift off to sleep

Tags! @petrichormeraki @prismartist

{The Pink Palace}{Other Father} {Strange Neighbors} {The Gloves}{That Was Fantastic!}{Horns}{Alone}{Trapped}{A Game}{So Close}{Home}

[25centsoda]

Initial Thoughts

Mister Impossible spoilers under the cut! 

Okay I am still feral but can use real human words now (like a human not a dream-- okay okay sorry) SO here are my disorganized first thoughts having just put the book down about twenty minutes ago, expect little in the way of chronological order

I was not jazzed about the book when I first got it, gonna be honest. The title, okay I guess, I can understand - the song Mister Impossible is a banger and definitely fits the mood. Would’ve prefered a line from the song rather than the title, which is, as some have pointed out, a bit more of an action-novel title than what we were expecting from the Dreamer Trilogy. But fine. Okay. 

Then I read the summary in the inside flap and I went :/ Hmm. Sounds a bit too high-stakes for me - listen, finding one dead king? Fixing one local ley line? That I can vibe with. Finding another dreamer a city over? Underground criminal magic market? Cool. Tangible. Fantastical! But tangible. World-ending stakes? I’m sorry, you’ve kinda lost me? But okay, okay, I trust Mrs. Stiefvater, I want to know more about dreamers and dreams, I’ll bite. 

The three quotes that come before the story itself? Another :/ Another hmm, okay. I’m not terribly jazzed. It’s not caught me. Even the first page! Didn’t catch me. I had to intentionally set aside critical-mode as I started the book

*takes a moment to set aside critical mode again because I did genuinely enjoy this book*

MATTHEW AND HIS CRISES, AA. Poor boy. “Was I made to be this way, or am I this way because I am me? How much free will do I even have? How much does it even matter? How much does anything even matter?” My philosophy phase last summer would’ve totally vibed with you, my dude *fistbump*

ALL OF THE MODERATORS EXCEPT CARMEN WERE DREAMS???? I’M SORRY?????? WHAT

No seriously they were all dreams?!?!? Since when?? Since how?? If they’re killing Zeds, were they killing all but their own Zed?? Did they all have sweetmetals?? Did Ronan dream them, too?????

If so that’s incredibly fucked up

SPEAKING OF SWEETMETALS

Bro what was that. I’m sorry but what was that.

Listen okay it makes sense in the context of the story I guess, but I couldn’t help but read it more as a part of her metaphor for like “dreamers are artists” and I totally get where she’s coming from looking at it as part of the metaphor, especially considering her recent/semi-recent health issues BUT as a story? Idk I just didn’t feel like I could mesh it with the story itself, see it as a thing on its own outside of the metaphor

TRC I could see both the metaphors and the story. CDTH I could see both the metaphor and the story. All The Crooked Saints I could see both the metaphor and the story. Here I was having trouble

Speaking of the metaphor

Why was Ronan committing ecoterrorism

I was almost getting like. Idk y’all read the latter half of Maximum Ride? We were edging into that territory where we were losing the thread of the story in the metaphor. Anyways

BRYDE

BRYDE

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I had to go scream at a friend when I read that part!!! Ronan dreamt himself a father figure, a teacher, a leader!! I’m FERAL

This part I felt was well-done

But BROOOOOOOOOOOOO, a dream that is also a dreamer???? WHAT. The power that takes, the power that has. Unstoppable.

MATTHEW FELL ASLEEP AT THE END AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Wait tho what was that at the end. I do not understand.

I get why Hennessy killed the ley line

BUT WHY DID MAGGIE

I saw Ronan and his dreamt fire and his internal conflict/angst. I saw Hennessy and her lace. Get it.

BUT WHERE DOES IT MAKE SENSE THAT ALL THE LEY LINES SHOULD DIE. WEREN’T WE GIVING MATTHEW AND JORDAN FREEDOM. WEREN’T WE WAKING BACK UP THE ARTISTS OF THE WORLD.

And Matthew was gonna go to school and be a real person instead of his brothers’ pet T_T

How could they do this to my sweet boy

And the book ended with Jordan??? I didn’t feel like she was a main-main character, enough to be ended on like that?? I thought the Dreamer Trilogy was about the dreamers primarily and dreams secondarily. CDTH even opens with stuff about the Lynch brothers (fantastic, btw, still catches me and gets me excited with the very first line even after three reads and about two years)

this is saltier than I intended whoops

Also

Also

Carmen and Lilliana

Appreciate the lesbians! Very much appreciate it. Feeeeeelin like it fell a little flat. Idk I saw possibility for more in the last book, maybe, but this book went from “hint of hint of space for development” to “they are KISSING, they are RUNNING AWAY TOGETHER, they are PAINFULLY OBVIOUSLY DATING”

Lowkey where did that come from

And where was Adam aaaaaaaaaa. I was worried about him! What happened to him! But then turns out Ronan just threw his phone away too fast bro, Ronan, plz 

I think that’s it? I think that’s it. No wait I did really like Jordan and Declan, that was nice. Henessey’s characterization was well-done I think; she be self-destructive and #struggling and desperately in need of some lesbian aunts (good for her on getting them).  ADORED Matthew and his personality and crises. Overall the book was just not the vibe I was expecting/necessarily came for; the stakes were too big, I think, was the most major issue.

What I’ll be looking for in the next book

WHAT IS HAPPENING NOW THAT THE LEY LINES ARE DEAD. Will Matthew be okay? Will Ronan be okay? We established that he doesn’t work without a ley line, right, boy just nightwashes out of life?

ALL OF THE MODERATERS WERE DREAMS??? MRS STIEFVATER EXPLAIN

Ronan just. Did a bunch of ecoterrorism. For nothing? What’s up with that lol. Is somebody gonna arrest him

Opal was mentioned but we never saw her. Where is she? Is she okay?

HOW IS JORDAN AWAKE, WHAT. Is the sweetmetal, like, inside her now, because she made one? Also why did we end on her. I feel like “It was a very nice day/she felt awake” is a VERY different mood from the devastation we were just reading. Matthew slipped out of consciousness AND HE WASN’T EVEN A KING. Like this was TRK-level dramatic but then our last bite of story was not that. I Must understand.

Somebody better talk to Ronan bro seriously kid needs therapy, he made his own father/mentor/leader figure. Declan was worried Ronan joined a cult but turns out boy made one. Plz help him

Hennessy better be vibing. She doesn’t have the Lace to contend with anymore

I think that’s it legit! This was waaaaaaay longer than I thought it would be lmao and less comprehensible/deep but hopefully in the future I will be back with more organized thoughts because boy does this book invite them (and no those thoughts will not be majority salt)

[crossdressingdeath]

Hi so I'm the pastabean brain anon from before, and your response? Honestly yeah I get it. First I want to touch on the anti term I used. I understand that I did use a pretty vague (to some extent) term, and I probably came of far harsher than I intended. I meant in the way you mentioned being 'disliking character' and not pushing it on others. I also was very tired (I had a brain-attack after, so yeah my state was less ideal), so I was way saltier and pettier than I would want to. I'm sorry (1/

Then again I do stand for my opinion, though expressed poorly. In fandom context there tend to be a lot of preexisting impressions on how ones media interaction reflect on your personality. While you can't dictate other's personal experience, they can't dictate yours either. For example, you being uncomfortable with 'jc homophobia' jokes is valid. However, applying hurtful intention or ignorance to people interacting with this joke isn't. Also for the stan/anti situation, (2/

Refering to characters as one would with real people creates a personal ethic to a person's opinion and interaction with the character and it's fan-content. Having serious conversations on characters and their themes and roles in the story is valuable, as well as critical discussions on perception and interpretation. I guess what I want to say is that too often those conversations are tainted by assumptions and bias. (3/

And yeah you're right, it's probably weird to come here and half preach this, but I usually prefer it that way. Not because I want to convince you or 'make you think like me', but because I want to bring opposing perspectives for voluntarily reflection. So yeah. I hope I was more coherent this time, and I do want to come of as less accusing and more conversationally. Though Idk how well that works in this kind of interaction, oof. I wish you a good day, and remember to take enough breaks. (4/4)

Hang on. Let me get this straight. You’re saying I can’t apply hurtful intention or ignorance to... people treating homophobia like a joke? Because frankly I’d say nine times out of ten it’s one of those two things, and I believe I did mention the third possibility (people joking about it to take the sting out of something they do have to deal with), although I might have forgotten to add that last bit but I’m adding it now. Ignorance isn’t necessarily a bad thing, it just means they don’t have or aren’t considering the full context of what they’re saying. It’s not inherently malicious, but I really fail to see a reason to treat a character’s blatant and serious homophobia aimed at his brother as a joke that isn’t malicious, ignorant, or trying to make it hurt less.

And obviously discussions of characters will involve bias, no one’s pretending they won’t. That’s kind of how discussion works? Everyone’s biased for or against certain things, it’s impossible to have an entirely non-biased discussion unless the people having the discussion have grown up in a bubble! Also like... how, exactly, are people supposed to discuss characters without referring to them in any way that is also used to refer to real people? You cannot divorce the culture and morality of the time and place a thing is written and the time and place it’s being experienced in from the thing. MXTX sure didn’t when she was writing the thing, she injected her own culture and her view of morality into the characters she was creating. The setting has its own morality that is separate but still connected to real-world morality, but that doesn’t mean real-world morality can’t or won’t play a part in the discussion of the setting. It just can’t be helped. This is something people discuss for fun on the internet, no one involved is obligated to pretend they didn’t have experiences that shaped who they are. If you want people pretending to be perfectly neutral and unbiased this really isn’t the website for you.

[evilrubberducke]

You Danced Your Way Into My Heart

Here’s a little Valentine’s day themed IzuMina one shot that I hope you all enjoy, despite it being almost a week late. 

Summary: As Mina tries to work up the courage to give her crush chocolate on Valentine's, she reflects on the encounter that started it all.

Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22813273 Or on FF.Net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13505672/1/You-Danced-Your-Way-Into-My-Heart

“Are you doing okay, Mina?” Hagakure asked, leaning over to check on her friend.

“Yep!” Mina replied, lying through her teeth. “Never better!”

She was seated in the UA cafeteria, trying and failing to enjoy her lunch. Her problem wasn’t that the food was any less delicious than normal, but that her stomach refused to stop tying itself in knots.

The source of her consternation was twofold. Part of it was the box of handmade chocolates that was burning a hole in her backpack. Satou had spent several long hours in the kitchen with her over the past week showing her how to craft the delicious treats, but it had still taken her four attempts to get them right. They were oddly shaped, a bit streaky in places, and a little saltier than she had intended, but they were also filled with all the affection she could muster. Mina hoped that would be enough to make up for the chocolate’s shortcomings.

The rest of her nerves came in the form of a green haired boy sitting on the other side of the cafeteria, excitedly discussing their upcoming hero class with his friends.

Mina wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, but somewhere along the way her friendship and admiration for Midoriya had turned into something more. She hadn't even realized that was what had happened until after the culture festival.

A fond smile crossed her face as she remembered the awkward encounter that had started it all.

-

“Um, A-Ashido? D-do you have a minute?” Midoriya asked, shuffling awkwardly from foot to foot.

“What’s up Midori?” Mina asked, looking up from the textbook she had been pretending to read, and the poorly disguised magazine inside it that she had actually been looking at.

“I-I was wondering if you could teach me some more dance moves? I-If you have time, that is! I don’t want to keep you from studying.”

She raised an incredulous eyebrow at him, but didn’t contradict his statement. If he wanted to think she was actually studying, and not goofing off, that was up to him.

“I can,” she said, closing her book, “But I gotta ask, what brought this on? Got the boogie fever?”

He chuckled awkwardly before replying. “N-no. There was a… uh… a thing during the culture festival. And the stuff you taught me helped me out of a really tight spot. But… I can’t help but think I could have done better if I’d had just a few more moves. So I was wondering if you could help me with that?”

A surge of warmth shot through her at his words. She wasn’t quite sure what “thing” he was talking about, but the idea that her dance moves had actually helped him out in any way was amazing. It made her feel like an actual hero, and not just a kid playing pretend.

“I’d be happy to help you, Midoriya!” she said, a smile breaking out across her face. It transformed into a mischievous grin a second later as a thought occurred to her. “I do have one condition though…”

“What’s that?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

“You’ve got to call me sensei while we train!”

He coughed in surprise, which only made her grin wider, but recovered quickly. A second later, he stuck his hand out for her to shake.

“It’s a deal, Ash- Sensei.”

The title sent an odd thrill through her, and made her sit up a little straighter as she tried to live up to her self-imposed responsibility. 

“Great! How’s Friday sound for our first session?”

“That works for me.”

“Okay. See you then. Oh, and wear something you can move around in. We’re gonna have fun and work hard!”

“Will do!”

-

When Midoriya finally stepped into the classroom that Mina had reserved for their dance practice, her jaw dropped in shock. 

He was dressed in a pair of tight fitting green yoga pants that were a little too short for him, and a red tank top. Even his ever present red sneakers had been replaced with a pair of mesh running shoes.

It was the complete opposite of what he usually wore. Aside from his school uniform and hero costume, Midoriya usually favored loose, baggy clothing that accentuated his plain appearance. Now he looked like he had stepped out of some European club.

“Holy crap Midoriya!” she exclaimed, her mouth already moving before her brain could rein it in, “What’s with the outfit?”

A look of panic crossed his face as he stammered out a reply. “I-Is it not right? You said to wear something I could move around in, so I asked my mom, and she lent me her old dancing outfit, but the shirt didn’t fit, so I had to borrow one from Kirishimia, and he said it looked good, and Uraraka did too, so I thought it would be okay, but I’m so sorry if it’s not, and—”

“Midori, breathe!” Mina interrupted, stepping forward to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, “You’re perfectly fine. I was just surprised to see you in a different outfit than usual. Honestly, you look pretty good in it.”

She wasn’t just saying that to make him feel better either. Underneath the baggy clothes and awkward demeanor, Midoriya had been hiding quite the impressive physique. Everyone in their class was fit, of course, but Midoriya seemed to have taken it to the next level. His muscles bulged under his skin as he scratched his head, and the tank top rode up enough to give Mina a tantalizing glimpse of the stomach beneath.

She shook her head in an effort to clear her mind. A few muscles shouldn't have been enough to distract her. Kirishima's costume left him almost entirely shirtless, and that had never gotten to her before. It was probably just the surprise of seeing the normally timid Midoriya in such a flashy outfit.

"Um, t-thanks," Midoriya said with a small bow, "Y-you look nice too."

She snorted. Her own dance outfit was well worn and a bit stained in places. Still, it had been rather cute at one point, and she supposed that was still true, if one was as fashion illiterate as Midoriya.

“Thanks. But enough standing around. Are you ready to get started?”

“Yes Sensei!” he replied instantly. As he did, his entire demeanor changed. His spine stiffened, his shoulders went back, and he even raised his eyes to meet her gaze with one of steely determination. 

On the one hand, she should probably tell him that she had meant the “sensei” thing as a joke. On the other hand, he had taken it in stride, and telling him now would probably just start things out on an awkward note. So she decided to just let it go, and enjoy her new title.

“Alright! You’ve got the basics down, but it’s time to put that to the test! I’m going to teach you how to six-step!”

-

“How was that?” Midoriya asked, panting heavily from exertion.

“Hmmmm. Almost, but not quite,” Mina replied, shaking her head.

He’d done well at first, but as their lesson had progressed, Midoriya had begun to struggle more and more. His sense of rhythm was good, and he was definitely fit enough to pull the moves off. He just had a hard time flowing from one move to the next.

“You’re still putting too much weight on your wrists,” she continued, pointing to the offending appendages, “You need to let your legs do the work instead.”

He sighed, then clambered slowly to his feet to try again. He had an impressive amount of stamina, but dancing like this worked out a completely different set of muscles than combat practice, and it was obvious that he was feeling the burn.

“Sorry,” he muttered, so low she almost missed it.

“What are you sorry for?”

For a second, it didn’t look like he was going to reply. Then he let out another sigh, his excellent posture disintegrating into a defeated hunch. 

“For being a bad student.”

“Hey!” Mina said sharply, giving him a swift chop to the head that would have made Iida proud. “None of that! It takes one to know one, so I can totally say that you’re not a bad student!”

The attempt at humor did bring a small smile to his lips, though he still looked hopeless and defeated.

“Sorry. It’s just hard when I’m giving every move my all, and nothing is working.”

Mina nodded in commiseration. She opened her mouth to try to comfort him, then stopped as a thought occurred to her.

“Hey, Midori, when you say you’re giving every move your all, did you mean that literally?”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t let you down by not giving it my best.”

She clapped her hands together, startling Midoriya with the sudden sound. “That’s it! That’s why you can’t get it!”

He looked at her in confusion, forcing her to explain her thought process.

“You’re treating it like a punch, and putting too much strength into each move. But it’s not about strength, it’s about balance and dexterity. If you put too much power in, you’ll throw your balance off.”

His look changed to one of incredulousness, but she forged ahead anyways.

“Okay, I know it sounds weird, but just trust me. Stop trying so hard, relax, and just let your mind go blank. I promise it’ll work!”

He shrugged, then got into the starting position she had shown him. He closed his eyes, took a series of slow, deep breaths like he was preparing to dive into a pool, and then began to dance.

Mina had to bite her lip to keep from shouting in triumph. His moves were far from perfect, but that one change had improved his technique so much it was hard to believe that he was the same person who had been struggling with these same moves just a minute ago.

“That was awesome Midori!” Mina said as he hopped back to his feet, “You totally nailed it!”

A broad smile filled his face, despite the blush in his cheeks. “T-Thanks. I had a good teacher.”

Before she knew what was happening she had crossed the short distance between them and pulled him into a tight hug. It definitely wasn’t the best hug she’d ever had, Midoriya was far too sweaty and surprised for that. At that moment, however, Mina didn’t care in the slightest. She enjoyed his warmth against her, and the way his arms came slowly up to pat her gently on the back.

Then her brain kicked back in and her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. She quickly broke the impromptu embrace and stepped back to a reasonable distance. 

“Hey, great lesson, but I’ve got to get going. Have a nice weekend!” Mina said hurriedly, grabbing her bag and dashing out of the classroom before Izuku could say a single word.

‘What the heck was I thinking?’ She thought furiously as she dashed down the hallway ‘Just grabbing him out of the blue. At least it was Midoriya, so he won’t think I’m in love with him just because of a hug.’

She stopped dead in the hallway as her heart skipped a beat at the thought of Midoriya falling for her. 

‘I-I don’t… I mean, he’s sweet, but we’re just friends, and… oh god, I think I like him.’

-

“— to Mina! Earth to Mina!” Hagakure said, waving her chopsticks in front of Mina’s face to get her attention.

“Huh? What’s up?”

“You’ve been staring at Midoriya for, like, 10 minutes now. I’m kinda amazed he didn’t notice.”

Mina quickly glanced at the clock to find that Hagakure was right. Lunch was nearly over, and her window to give her chocolates to Midoriya was rapidly closing. She wouldn't have another chance until classes ended for the day, and Mina wasn't sure she could wait that long without going stir crazy.

Sterling her resolve, she rose to her feet and slapped the table dramatically. 

"I'm going to do it!" she declared, hoping that stating her intentions aloud would help to quiet her nerves.

"You've got this!" Hagakure cheered, as the pink girl grabbed the box of chocolates and marched across the cafeteria.

-

“And that is why I believe that Valentine’s day is a ridiculous and old fashioned practice that should be phased out as soon as possible,” Iida finished his rant with a satisfied nod.

“So the answer is no, you didn’t get any chocolate today,” Tsuyu said, addressing the question that had set Iida off in the first place. 

She, Iida, Uraraka, and Izuku were seated at their usual table near the edge of the UA cafeteria. They had finished with their food several minutes ago, and were now waiting for their next class. Given the season, their discussion had naturally turned to the subject of Valentine’s and romance.

For Izuku, Valentine’s day had always been depressing. He had spent year after year watching his male classmates brag about how many chocolates they had received while the girls giggled in groups, daring each other to give homemade chocolates to the guys they found cute. Izuku, meanwhile, had sat forlornly at his desk, wishing for even a single friendship chocolate to magically appear. No one was ever brave or foolish enough to give him one, however. 

So it was with great surprise and elation that Izuku had received friendship chocolate from nearly every girl in the class. The candies may have been low quality (with the exception of Yaoyorozu’s ridiculously expensive imported candy bar), but to Izuku they were the most delicious treats he had ever had. 

There was a small part of him that was disappointed in the lack of one particular person’s chocolate, but he refused to acknowledge it. He was being selfish, thinking that Ashido would consider him a close friend after such a short time, and he was being completely ridiculous if he imagined receiving anything more than friendship chocolate from her.

“Tsuyu, Iida, I think it’s time for us to head back to class,” Uraraka said, drawing Izuku back from his thoughts. Her gaze was focused across the cafeteria, and a small, knowing smile graced her lips.

“An excellent suggestion, Uraraka!” Iida said happily, “Taking extra time to prepare for our next class will only improve our performance!”

“Whatever you say, kero,” Tsuyu said, rising to her feet and grabbing his arm, “Come on, Iida. Let's make ourselves scarce."

Izuku tried to rise with them, but Uraraka shoved him back into his seat before he could finish.

"Not you. You're staying here right here,” she said forcefully.

“Wait, why am I…” Before he could finish, Uraraka had walked off, leaving him alone and extremely confused. Thankfully, he wasn’t alone for very long.

“H-Hey Midoriya!” Ashido said, walking up to his table. Instead of taking a seat, she stood just to his side, with her hands clasped behind her back.

"Oh, hello Ashido. Are you feeling okay?" he asked, noticing that her usual pink complexion was much paler than usual. 

“I’m fine. Just a little under the weather. But that’s not important. There’s… there’s something I want to ask you.”

He was a little surprised at how circumspect she was being. Normally she just barreled forward without much thought for the consequences. Whatever problem she was having must have been very important. He turned his full attention towards her words as he nodded for her to continue. Her training and advice had been incredibly beneficial to him, not to mention how much he enjoyed spending time with her. Helping with her problem was the very least he could do.

“Okay…” she said, swallowing loudly. Then, she brought her hands, and the package they held around and thrust it towards him. “I wanted to give you these, and to ask if you wanted to go see a movie this weekend?”

The package was small and covered in heart-patterned wrapping paper, with a small bow wrapped around it. A small white tag in the upper corner had his name on it, with a small heart in place of the dot on the I.

His brain ground to a halt as the implications of the present, and the question she had just asked registered for him.

“A-A movie? This weekend? Like… Like a d-d-d-date?”

Her cheeks burned lilac as she nodded, her eyes firmly fixed on his feet. 

“W-W-W-With me?”

Another nod.

“I-I, uh, I would l-love to.”

Slowly, her eyes rose to meet his once more as a wide smile bloomed on her face. Her eyes seemed to shine, turning her irises to liquid gold, and she began to bounce on her heels with excitement.

Izuku felt his heart skip a beat at the sight. He had noticed long ago that she was pretty, but in that moment she looked more beautiful than anyone he had ever seen before.

“Great!” Ashido said, clasping his hand in hers as she thrust the box of chocolates into his grasp, “I’ll text you after class and we can pick something out!”

With that she spun on her heel and marched out of the cafeteria, leaving Izuku to slowly melt down as the fact that a pretty girl had just asked him out finally registered. 

Mina, meanwhile, made it all the way out of the cafeteria before she let out a shriek of excitement and elation and ran off to tell Hagakure about everything that had just happened.

[headoverjojo]

Hi there! Can I ask for BucciG with a Crush that is already in a relationship with a total asshole? Like, they are patient, hoping it would work out, but honestly even a pass by would see it won't, then get cheated and broke out? How they approach, etc.

Hello there, darling! :3 Uuuuh sure! It was a bit looong and maybe more saltier than intended -especially the final parts- but I just hate cheatings and cheaters and I thought this is what they deserved, lol. Hope you enjoy it!

Bruno’s gang having a crush who’s already with someone but they’re an asshole, cheat on them, break up with them and then mock them and ask them to come back together

(Under the cut for length!)

Bruno Bucciarati

Bruno developed his crush when they were already in a relationship. Usually he wouldn’t have hidden his feelings, but in this case he couldn’t go and confess, not when he would have put his crush in a bad situation. He isn’t one who ruins couples. So he was content to stay their friend and nothing more.

As much as their friendship grow, Bruno finds out how his crush’s s/o is a total bastard asshole. He boils in rage: how could an asshole like that be with a caring and patient person as his crush? That person didn’t deserve them!! He can’t restrain himself from saying it to them, bluntly, even if trying not to hurt their feelings. He’s just baffled when they say, with a small smile, that things will go better, that it’s just a period… How could they say so? Bruno is more than sceptical about it, but he can’t forcefully bring them far from their s/o.

As predicted, however, they, in the end, break up and in the worst possible way: they saw their s/o romantically hanging out with another person. The moment he knows, Bruno is immediately with them, consoling them and never leaving them alone, if they need him near. He tries as much as he can to keep them in one piece, even if their heart is shattered. He can’t let them fall in a sea of sadness and guilt: they have no fault in all of this and he’s here to always remind it.

Slowly, he manages to keep them oyt of their gloomy mourning. His heart skips a beat when they smiles again. He’s so proud of their improvements! But here the asshole comes back. Bruno is at their side, protective, a hand on their back, boiling in rage, as the other person laughs at them. How dare they to laugh after breaking their heart?! He doesn’t contain himself, now, especially when they say “they want to come back with them”. How dare they?! He just takes away his crush, after muttering to the asshole not to come near them anymore, with a deadly -and frankly terrifying- voice. If asshole is a smart person, they’ll take seriously Bruno’s words; if not, they’ll taste a Caporegime’s rage.

Leone Abbacchio

When he comes to know that the person he likes is already with someone else, he’s crushed. Of course… he should have suspected it. Still, luckily for him, he’s one who’s good at hiding his feelings, so his crush never suspects anything. Still, he cares deeply for them, so he does his best to be their friend.

It doesn’t take much to find out that his crush’s s/o is a complete asshole whose hobby seems really to just hurt them. He’s deeply, deeply pissed both with the asshole and even with his crush. How could they be so foolish and blind? How could they love such a person? And he almost gets even angrier when they patiently say it’ll go better, that they’ll be happy… Bullshits, thinks Abbacchio. He knows it’ll not end well.

And indeed it ended badly. Even if his crush wanted to trust their s/o, some doubts started to root, and Moody Blues could deny them. But the stand just confirmed their fear: his s/o was cheating on them. He’s here to keep them together as they break down, perfectly understanding their rage and anguish. He’s tempted to go to his crush’s s/o and give them a piece of his mind, but his crush pleads him not to do it and, to please their wish, he doesn’t lay a finger on the asshole. But the rage is always boiling in his veins.

He can’t restrain himself anymore when, right when his crush finally was starting to heal, the bastard came back in their life. And not to apologize, as they should have done, no, but to laugh at them and call them pathetic. Abbacchio definitely snaps. Afte gently telling his crush to wait for him in a nearby café, he drags the asshole in an alley to give them a piece of his mind. After all, it’s known: he doesn’t need a stand to break some kneecaps. After finishing them, he just tells them not to ever dare to come back in G/N’s life, or they’ll not be so lucky, next time. And he means what he says.

Guido Mista

It doesn’t take a lot to Mista to fall in love. He’s a hopeless romantic and it’s enough for him to feel at ease with a person, to feel a bond with them that here his romantic side goes. However, it’s almost never serious: just bland crushes or flirts. This time, however, it’s real. It’s a strong crush, more than everything he ever felt before.

But fate is a cruel person -and loves number 4-: his crush is already taken. He’s desperate. How could it be true?! How could he be so unlucky! It’s because 4 is involved? It must be so. Really he doesn’t have even a chance? No, he hasn’t, he knows. He flirts and shit, yes, but never with girls already taken. It’d not be right. He hates who cheats and who agree to have a story with someone already taken. He finds it disgusting.

So he just stays their friend, even if, in private, he sighs in love with them. He has also to keep his Sex Pistols down, or they’d spit everything like they always do. Being their friend, he has the chance to know the person who has the lucky to be at their side. And when he does, well… he’s baffled. He can’t believe that his crush, who’s so wonderful, could stay with a… with someone like them. An irrecoverable asshole. And the way they treat their supposed s/o!! He boils in anger. It’s so disrespectful, so humiliating… .when he asks them why and how they’re still with them, they just smile, a small, even a bit tired smile, saying that it’s not the first time, that it’s a period and will pass. Mista doesn’t think so: he knows how people like his s/o’s crush are. It will not end well.

And, as he feared, the break up day arrives. They crush in his house, crying, in the middle of the night, stuttering and sobbing. He immediately makes them enter, sit them on the sofa, gives them a blanket, something warm to drink… and sits near them asking what happened. When they say that they found their s/o with another person in their bed, his rage reaches untouched peaks. He knew his crush’s s/o was a bastard, but at this level… he’s so, so tempted to go and kick the bastard’s ass right here and now, but his crush is so fragile, now… he can’t leave them alone. They are his priority number one: he and the Pistols will stay with them as long as they need them.

It takes some time, but his crush is able to get up again. And Mista is always at their side, step by step, proud of them. They’re so strong! And he’s so happy to see them finally start to feel better. They deserve all the happiness and joy in this world and they’re finally taking it back! They’re more relaxed, they smile more, laugh more… until the bastard who ruined their life decides to come back in their life. Mista is so, so pissed. How dare they, after everything they did?! And not to crawl at their feet and apologize as they should be but to laugh at them and call them pathetic and then even have the guts to say them “ehy let’s go back together”? What?! Mista is deeply indignant and disgusted. He never saw a so shitty person. And, after telling his crush not to watch, he proceeds to drag the asshole away and beat the shit out of him, while the Pistols stay with the crush and cheer them. After the asshole has to keep their eyes closed from how many beats they have taken, Mista just hisses at them not to ever, ever, come near anymore, if they want to taste not his punches but his gun, next time.

Narancia Ghirga

As Mista, Narancia doesn’t take long to fall in love, but, contrarily to his teammate, he doesn’t recognize it at first impact. At first, he thinks it’s just a deep friendship, nothing more. He thinks they’re so cool, he wants to spend time with them… just when he realizes that he wants to kiss them -and this is not so friendly- he understands that his feelings are deeper than what he thought.

He’s a bit sour, knowing they’re already with someone else. Does he not have even a chance, uh? Still, even if he’d like so, so much to try, he’s not going to steal his crush to their s/o. It’s not right, he knows it. Betrayal and cheating are never right. Even if, when he knows their s/o, his desire to “steal” them becomes even stronger. They are just… awful. He didn’t feel something like this, a revulsion so strong towards a person since the last time he saw his father. He really can’t understand how could they be with such a person…

And he tells them so, oh, he does. He never shies away from expressing his opinions and thoughts, even if sometimes -often. they may be worded in a not so polite or delicate way. Still, his crush doesn’t take it as offence: they just sweetly smile, even if there’s tiredness in their eyes, saying that it wasn’t always like this and that surely it will pass. It’s like a wheel, all in all: good period, bad period, good period and so on. This is just a bad period, they say. Narancia is so, so sceptical about it: his crush’s s/o is right like his father and his father always brought just sadness and sufference both to him and his mom. He tries to warn them, but they go on saying it’ll get better. He knows it won’t.

And he was right. One day he just receives a call: their voice, raspy and broken, announces that they broke up. Narancia grabs the first things he can -some snacks, a blanket- and crushes at their place, immediately hugging them tightly, protective. He lets them cry on his shoulder, as he caresses their hair and back, anger building up in his chest. They’re suffering so much, so much… how dared that asshole to treat them like this?! What did they do wrong to deserve it?! Narancia just wish to meet them, one day or another, to beat them as they deserve. But, for now, he focuses on his crush, cuddling them, after enveloping them in the blanket, and trying to distract them. It works, it always works with him around.

As they start to feel better, Narancia feels better too. Seeing them smiling again, laughing again… it’s like starting to live again. He lives for their smile, for their happiness… and they’re finally grasping it again, after all the time their s/o tarped their wings. Now they can fly! But, when it all seems to go finally sweet and fine, here they come back. Narancia is so, so upset. Right when his crush was starting to feel better!! And he’s even more pissed when they don’t apologize but mock them, laughing at them, and daring them to come back with them, since, alone, they’re not worthy of anything. At this, Narancia snaps and snaps bad: he doesn’t even tell them to go back, he just points at his crush’s ex’s throat his pocket knife, a deadly and dangerous look in his eyes, ordering them not to show their ass around anymore, if they want to live peacefully and nicely. Narancia’s words cannot be mistaken: even if he’s not going to kill them, he’s going to make them suffer. A lot. Using both his capacities and his Aerosmith.

Pannacotta Fugo

Fugo is a person who tends to follow more logic than anything else. He doesn’t want to have troubles -and love brings a lot of them-. He has too problems on his own, his anger issues, his stand, his trust issues… he doesn’t want to drag someone else into this hell. Still… emotions aren’t something he can control at his pleasure. He can’t help but to fall for them.

Still, he doesn’t say anything, both fearing to be rejected, both ‘cause he finds out they’re already with someone. Even if he tells he doesn’t care, since they’re just friends, he can’t help but to feel a pang of pure pain in his heart: even if he tried not to think about them in a romantic way, he couldn’t help but to think, to imagine how it would have been to be with them…  all shattered. He doesn’t even try something with them: he respects that they’re already in love with someone else.

So he resigns to be just their friend. Still, when he meets for the first time their s/o, he’s absolutely disgusted. He thought he had already met the major scum of society, but here, well… there’s a great example of it. He detests his crush’s s/o since first instant, and not because they’re together. He would have been fine, if they would have been a good person. But they’re a shitty trashy person, and Fugo can’t bear it. He can’t bear that his crush is paired with someone like this. He tries to speak to them about it, but he’s baffled when they say it’ll pass, that their s/o is not always like this… how can they say so? Love made them blind? Maybe it’s so… still, he can’t forcefully make them break up with their s/o. He just hopes to be wrong.

Unfortunately, he’s not wrong. Not even after much time, he sees his crush all slumped and depressed. Asking what happened, they answer telling him everything, that they broke up with their partner, about the cheating… Fugo is so disgusted to be almost nauseated. How could that asshole cheat on someone so wonderful as his crush?! They, who deserve just happiness and love?! He votes his time, now, to stay with them, to protect them from the pain that threatens to swallow them down. He knows how it is to be betrayed in a so deep way, so he’ll not leave them alone, he’ll be their shoulder to cry on, he’ll be here to hug them when they need, to listen to them when they need to vent. He wants them to feel better, before actually going to search for the asshole and make them pay for the pain they inflicted to his crush.

Finally, they seem to start to feel better. They eat properly again, they smile, they started to live normally again and not in an eternal state of anguish… it all seems to get better. Until, while they’re walking together, his crush’s ex don’t bump on them. Fugo is deadly serious, trembling in rage, as he keeps his crush near him, as to protect them from their ex’s words. How dare they to come and laugh at them?! To mock them for how they look, to make jokes on them?! And to say they’re pathetic and they should go back with them not to be like this anymore?! He’s so, so tempted to call out Purple Haze. Not to kill them, just to scare them a little… maybe. If he can. Still, he manages to contain himself and to take his crush away. But, that evening, oh, he goes to find his crush’s ex and he doesn’t need Purple Haze to beat the shit out of them. He uses all his rage and fury, leaving them as a pulp. Alive, sure, but with more than one broken bones. As to warning not to bother his crush ever again.

Giorno Giovanna

It was the first time he actually fell in love. He never had time, before, between his dream and taking off the mafia boss and being a boss himself, neither he was interested. But now… they were different. They were special and managed to make their way in his heart. He was totally enchanted by them. So this is love…

However, nothing, not his position, not his power, can obtain someone else’s love. And his crush’s love is already dedicated to someone else. It hurts… Giorno never had his heart broken. He accepts it, anyway: love means also letting go, right? And he lets them go. They don’t belong to him; they belong to themselves and if they love someone else, then so be it. He’ll still be their friend anyway.

Finally, he has the chance to meet the person who his crush loves. He thinks it’s someone worthy, someone who’s more than a good person, but… they’re not. They are a horrible living scum and Giorno can’t sincerely understand how such a person deserves his crush’s love. He’s sincerely baffled. When he sincerely tells them his opinion, of course in a polite way, they just smile, telling him not to worry, that at a first impression their s/o is always a bit… misunderstood, they say. Still, Giorno doesn’t think so. They’re not misunderstood, they’re a shit! However, he sincerely hopes to be wrong, for his crush’s happiness.

Just that… his instinct is never wrong. As he feared, his crush’s love story doesn’t end well, absolutely not well. He receives a call from them, asking him if they can stay at his place for a while, since their s/o threw them out of home. He’s immediately out on his car to go to pick them up and, once they’re safely in his house, he asks them what happened. When he hears about the whole thing -the cheating, the fight, they thrown out of their own home- his face is plain and almost emotionless. This is how he expresses his deepest rage. How could someone be so cruel and horrid… he offers them his house and his friendship. They can stay at his place as much as they need, they’ll be safe here. From everyone and everything.

He reschedules all his appointments and meetings to stay more time with them. He helps them to recover, to start to live again. He’s the best friend they could ever imagine and desire, present, attentive, always ready to hug them when they need it, always ready to listen to them and dry their tears. Thanks to him, they start a new, happier life without their s/o. Still, when things seem to go all well, here they come back, both to Giorno and his crush’s complete dismay: and he’s not even ashamed for what he has done, no, he laughs on their face, calling them weak, pathetic, telling them that they’ll never be happy far from them, that they have to go back together… Giorno doesn’t take even a word of these bullshits. He gently ushers them inside of his house, before turning around and meeting the asshole with his coldest and most dangerous gaze, the Don’s one. He doesn’t even need to call out Gold Experience: his look is enough to make the asshole shiver and tremble in fear, as they finally realize who is in front of them. Giorno has just to say not to come near ever again: it’s more than enough to make them understand that, in case, their fate will not be pleasant.

[artificialqueens]

nobody knows where we might end up, chapter eighteen (branjie) - holtzmanns

(read on ao3) | (tumblr: plastiquetiaras) | word count: 4710

AN: The penultimate chapter - it’s hard to believe that this fic will be over by next week. This fic has really pushed me with plot development and storytelling, and I’m so grateful for it. Enjoy this doozy of a chapter. Thank you all for the sweet sweet feedback and reviews, they truly motivate me so much and make me so happy. Writ is the best beta one could ask for <3

(then)

It’s just a Skype interview.

Vanessa can do it.

A Skype interview. She doesn’t have to fly to California or anything for it, either. She just has to wear a nice button down shirt and a blazer, do her makeup and sit in front of the webcam on her computer to try and impress an admissions committee approximately four thousand kilometers and three timezones away.

She’s more confident this time around. The humming in her veins is less so that of nerves about embarrassing herself, and more so her brain running through possible questions that she’s already practiced, her potential answers already rolling off her tongue.

Vanessa’s done this once already. She’s been through this process.

This time, she’s going to do it right.

She doesn’t have to worry about being interrupted, either. The kitties are asleep on the bed and Riley’s resting by her feet, and Brooke, well…

Vanessa doesn’t know where Brooke is. Probably class? Maybe the library?

There’s a tiny voice in Vanessa’s brain that reminds her of how her and Brooke always used to be hung up on each other, even when they were busy. Constantly texting, sending each other funny pictures from things they encountered on campus. The way that Vanessa would always snap a photo of the weird foods the guy in front of her in organic chemistry would always bring to lecture, just to brighten Brooke’s day while she was stuck in her human biology lab.

Hell, the last person she’s texted is her mom. Before that, Silky. Before that, A’keria.

She hasn’t texted Brooke since three days ago when Brooke told her to clean out the fridge when she had time.

Vanessa doesn’t need Brooke for this interview. She doesn’t need any help in preparing, she’s done it herself.

And she’s going to keep doing it, too. Because she’s strong enough, smart enough, if the last year has taught her anything.

If it doesn’t work?

Well, there’s always nursing school.

“Thank you, Vanessa. It’s been wonderful talking with you and hearing your perspective, especially from the lens of being part of our neighbours to the north, with a differing healthcare system. You absolutely possess qualities that we value in prospective students.” The woman from the panel on Vanessa’s screen sounds happy, actually happy, and Vanessa has to press her palms onto her knees to keep herself from pumping her first.

She’s done well. First interview of many, and she’s done well.

It feels like retribution. Like she’s reclaiming what’s been taken from her, but doing it with her own spin. Making her mark. Staking her claim on what she’s been working so hard towards.

Vanessa’s going to get it. One way or another, she’s going to start med school in the fall.

She looks underneath the couch cushions, trying to find her cellphone. She’s gotta call her mom, tell her that she did well, that things are finally, finally coming together. If she’s done well with this Skype interview, who’s to say that she won’t with the interviews in person at all the Ontario universities? Vanessa feels like the Skype interview has given her a boost of confidence, pulling her off of the ground and towards the ceiling that’s been holding her back. And now, she’s going to break through it.

Vanessa grumbles when Riley gets up from his spot on the floor, because of course her phone had fallen on the ground earlier and he’d been sitting on it the entire time. Typical.

Her phone is already up to her ear and ringing when the front door bursts open, and there Brooke is, waltzing in and dropping her bag in the entrance and opening the fridge while…some strangers wait in the doorway?

Vanessa hangs up as Brooke turns to her, biting into an apple. “Oh, hey. Came to drop stuff out before heading out again.”

Vanessa wrinkles her brow. “Where are you-”

“The second year med students are planning some prank on the third years, apparently. Supposed to happen soon. We’re gonna go watch.” Brooke throws out the apple core as she finishes it, turning back towards the people at the door still shouldering their own backpacks.

“You ain’t even gonna introduce everyone?” So what if it comes out saltier than Vanessa intends it to be? It’s been a semester and a half that Brooke’s been in med school and Vanessa feels like that part of her life is completely separate, untouchable to her.

“Oh.” Brooke pauses. “Well. Steve, Jon, Aurora, Courtney. In that order. Everyone, this is Vanessa.”

The guy farthest on the right (Jon? Steve? Vanessa’s missed it), his arm around the guy beside him, lets out a noise that makes the normally loud Vanessa want to plug her own ears. “You! You’re Brooke’s girlfriend!”

“The one and only.” Or so Vanessa hopes. Not that she wants to go down that spiral.

“Honestly, we were beginning to think that you didn’t exist, from the way we’ve never seen you.”

“I may as well not.” Vanessa mutters it under her breath, so that they don’t hear. As much as she’d love to start shit right now and as much as she loves mess, she’s not gonna stoop low.

“Well, come along with Brooke to our library study sessions sometime. We get stuff done. Occasionally, at least.” The girl with the bleach blonde hair turns towards her friends. “Remember that time that B ordered pizza to the library? And we snuck it in and-”

“We ate it and hid it from the security guard under the table-”

“-that was hysterical.” They’re all cracking up, the lot of them, and Brooke is too, and Vanessa wants to disappear into the couch. More inside jokes that she’s not a part of. Probably will never be a part of, at least not in the same way that a group of friends sharing a med school class are a part of.

It’s fine.

“Yeah, sure, maybe.” The words leave Vanessa’s lips halfhearted, because really, does she want to go and hear about people that she doesn’t know and classes that she’s not part of, and generally feel like she’s still on the outside looking in?

Not really.

“Brooke?”

“Yeah?” Brooke looks surprised, almost, that Vanessa’s calling out to her. It could be due to the fact that they haven’t been speaking much over the last few weeks, or maybe not.

Who’s to know for sure, really?

But Vanessa’s interview went well, real well. And she kinda wants to share it with someone. Someone there in person, not just on the phone. “Can we talk for a sec?”

Brooke bites her lip, looking between her friends and her phone. “Um, can it wait? Just got the text from a girl in our class that everyone’s meeting outside Convocation Hall to watch. We gotta go.”

Sure, Vanessa expects it, because the two of them aren’t each other’s highest priority anymore. But it still fucking stings. She patches up the hole in her chest, the one looking for Brooke’s pride, Brooke’s approval, the one that preens under Brooke’s appreciative glance because she’s not going to get it anytime soon. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

She could fight right now, yell at Brooke for being flippant. But does it matter? When Brooke probably won’t even give a shit?

It’s not like she really does these days, anyway.

The door closes behind them and Vanessa pats the couch, letting Riley jump onto it and curl up beside her. She buries her face into his fur as the sounds of talking get softer and softer down the hallway.  

Vanessa doesn’t feel like calling her mom anymore, either.

Brooke comes back when Vanessa’s already climbed into bed, reviewing her notes for her upcoming microbiology exam. Vanessa doesn’t want to look up, she really doesn’t, when Brooke climbs in beside her.

They don’t automatically snuggle into each other the way they used to. It’s like there’s an invisible wall between their sides of the bed, and Vanessa’s not sure which one of them keeps on adding the bricks on to it.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Vanessa flips to another page of her review, trying her hardest to focus on the virus that she’s supposed to be studying, but can’t help pulling her eyes up.

“The second years set a bunch of chickens loose on the lawn in front of Convocation Hall as they left their lecture. It was hilarious.” Brooke lets out a small laugh, evidently remembering the sight in front of her. Not that Vanessa cares.

“Fun.”

“Yeah.” There’s an awkward pause, one that makes Vanessa want to fidget before Brooke speaks again. “You wanted to tell me something earlier?”

Oh. That.

“It doesn’t matter.” Vanessa mumbles the words as she turns another page over, because it really fucking doesn’t. Brooke didn’t care enough a couple hours ago. She doesn’t care now.

Vanessa doesn’t need any reactions or cheering from her.

“What? Just tell me.” Brooke shifts on her side, raising an eyebrow. “What was it?”

“I ain’t gotta tell you anything,” Vanessa snaps, suddenly annoyed. The interview feels like it happened ages ago by now, anyway. She’s already told her mom and Silky and A’keria and celebrated how well it went by ordering in Postmates and why should she have to retell it, when Brooke didn’t even want to hear about it in the first place?

“Fine,” Brooke huffs, crossing her arms. “Don’t say I didn’t ask, later.”  

“Fuck off.” Vanessa doesn’t want to deal with this, doesn’t want to end up in the shitty mood that Brooke always manages to put her in. She’s tired of it. “Not like you actually care.”

Though apparently, Brooke isn’t. “What the hell is your problem?”

“Excuse me?” Vanessa feels her voice raising as she finally puts her review down on the bedside table because is now the time that Brooke is going to come for her? Really?

“I don’t actually care? You’re the one who never talks to me anymore, you never want to come to things with me or meet my friends and, you know what? I’m tired of trying with you.” Brooke looks cold, real cold, in a way that Vanessa’s never really seen directed towards her. The kind of closed off expression that she only gets when she talks about her parents, or when she’s ranting about one of her professors. The kind of Brooke that Vanessa’s not quite so used to, not when the Brooke that she normally gets is soft and open and not so closed off.

Vanessa’s about to run her mouth, though Brooke isn’t done, cutting her off before she’s able to say anything. “All you’re doing is pushing me away. Like the past three years have been bullshit and don’t matter anymore.”

“You’re the one who’s left me behind!” Vanessa runs a hand through her hair, because how doesn’t Brooke get it? Brooke’s moved on, moved onto other things and left Vanessa floundering in the dust and they’re supposed to be a team.

That’s what they’re supposed to be.

“No I didn’t, and you know that. I’m still trying, I’m the only one that’s still fucking trying between the two of us because you can never bother to even give me the time of day anymore.” Brooke’s jaw is set and she swallows hard, as if she’s trying to push everything back down and it’s not fair. Because Brooke is acting like this is solely her fault, when it isn’t.

“You’re never here anymore, how do you expect me to even do that? You’re always in class or hanging with your own friends or doing some med school event or the other. Not like I can even come to those.” Vanessa crosses her arms. She’s not going to follow Brooke to the ends of the earth to try. Not when Brooke wouldn’t even do the same for her.

“It always comes back to med school, huh?” Brooke lets out a bitter laugh. “Always the thing that makes you snap.”

“Don’t-”

“You still blame me because you didn’t get in, don’t you? Or at least, you take it out on me. Because I’m here and the admissions committees don’t exactly respond well to any sort of threats.” Brooke hasn’t raised her voice, not really, but the words still set Vanessa on fire, make her angry because Brooke’s so damn calm while she says them.

“You think real highly of yourself.” Vanessa doesn’t care about being quiet anymore, unlike Brooke. Not when she’s being like this. “You ain’t that important, bitch.”

“Believe whatever you want.” The ice is back, the tendrils beginning to creep along Vanessa’s skin from her words. “We both know it’s true. That’s when things started to get like this, when you stopped trying to actually talk to me about things. When you didn’t get in and I did.”

“Fuck off.”

“Maybe try a little harder for this next year and you don’t have to be so bitter anymore.” Brooke has a smirk on her face, the bitch. As if it’s all a joke to her.

“You really think I didn’t try hard? Like I didn’t put in as much effort as you, didn’t deserve it like you did? Like I wasn’t supporting you that whole fucking time?” Vanessa’s mad, real mad, because how dare Brooke even say that she didn’t fucking try hard, when Brooke was the one who was there, and saw her. “Maybe the reason I didn’t get in was because I had to spend so much time trying to make you feel better. Holding your hand constantly when you got anxious and stressed and had to put my books down to make sure you didn’t fucking blow a gasket on me.”

It’s a low blow and Vanessa knows it, by the way Brooke’s eyes darken because this isn’t something that they make light of, or joke about. Either of their mental health. But part of it is true. Sure, it comes with being in a relationship, supporting your partner. But maybe, just maybe, it’s taken away success from Vanessa too. Or at least, that’s what she’s going to tell Brooke, to drive that knife in just a little bit deeper.

There was a time when the last thing that Vanessa wanted to do was to hurt Brooke.

That was a long time ago.

“I didn’t realize I was such a huge burden to you.” Brooke narrows her eyes, and Vanessa can see the way that she’s covering up her heart, reinforcing it with every brick that she puts in front of it for protective armour. “You know what, though? I’m doing just fine. Just fine without you, don’t you think? Meanwhile, you look like you’re falling apart.”

Vanessa wants to scream and tell Brooke that she’s not, that she’s just fine, but the words don’t come. Because Brooke’s right.

And Vanessa hates it because it means that Brooke really has moved on.

“What, you don’t have anything to say, now that you don’t have anyone to blame anymore? Now that you actually have to take responsibility for something, for once in your life with no one to pick up the pieces for you?”

Vanessa doesn’t.

“Fine.” Vanessa’s off the bed, grabbing her coat that’s hanging on the back of their bedroom door, because she’s done. “You win.”

“Can you just fucking listen to yourself for once? It’s not about winning!” Brooke’s following her and she doesn’t care, she’s not going to stop even with how frustrated Brooke sounds. Because she’s wrong.

Brooke’s won, left her in pieces the way that she’s so good at doing again and again.

Vanessa doesn’t need Brooke to build herself back up.

(now)

The light of dawn makes Brooke glow in shades of gold.

It’s 5:45 a.m., and Vanessa’s unable to sleep anymore because of the rays of sun that are beaming directly into her eyes from Brooke’s bedroom window.

Their surgery starts at 8 a.m. sharp. They’ve done the practice run, have had consult meeting after consult meeting. Vanessa would probably be able to do the procedure with her eyes closed. Even if the surgery is approximately four and a half hours long.

Vanessa’s done longer. They both have. She’s not worried.

For now, her thoughts are solely drawn to the woman lying beside her.

There’s something about Brooke in sleep that continues to be absolutely mesmerizing to Vanessa. The way her lips are slightly parted, the way the worry lines etched into her face smooth themselves out while she’s dreaming. The slight twitch of her fingers and the soft breaths that she lets out as the sheets brush her skin.

She’s beautiful.

Vanessa gets up as slowly as she can to not wake Brooke up, and pulls on one of Brooke’s sweaters before she heads to the kitchen. She can’t help the little curses she lets out as she tries to get Brooke’s Keurig to work, different from her own at home.

“Stupid, damn machine-”

Though she doesn’t have to grumble to herself for long, two steaming drinks in her hands before the clock strikes 6:00.

When she heads back to the bedroom Brooke is awake, a hand running through her hair and her eyes wide as she sits up. Vanessa can see the palpable relief in Brooke’s eyes when she spots her in the doorway, along with the way that Brooke’s grip on the sheets begins to lessen, her body releasing the tension that had began to build up.

“You okay?” Vanessa hands Brooke a mug before sitting down beside her on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah, I-” Brooke draws in a breath, looking down at the sheets. “Thought you’d left.”

The words lie heavy in Vanessa’s heart, because she knows she’s the one that’s made Brooke so afraid of it.

“I ain’t gonna leave, B,” Vanessa starts, voice soft, “Unless you want me to.”

Brooke looks up at her and Vanessa can see a vulnerability in her eyes. Neither of them are talking about this morning anymore. Vanessa knows it, she knows that Brooke knows it.

Vanessa’s not going to leave.

“You know it’s different now, right?” Vanessa puts her hand on top of Brooke’s on the mattress, feels Brooke’s hand turn over to grab hers. “It’s not like it used to be. We’re not like that anymore. We’re different.”

“We are, aren’t we?” Brooke’s just as soft, her voice on par with the way the sun is beginning to rise even more, lighting up the room.

“We’re not gonna end up like that again. I won’t let it.” Vanessa won’t. She can’t, because she’s already lost Brooke before, slowly and then all at once. Ripping off the band-aid at a torturous pace.

“How, though? How do we know we won’t end up like that again?” Brooke’s voice is almost pleading and Vanessa gets it, she does, because the tug in her heart is asking the same question. Waiting, just waiting, to catastrophize and concoct scenarios of how they could go all wrong.

“‘Cause we’re not gonna let that resentment build between us. We’re killing it in our own fields, both the heads of our departments. We’re not competing against each other anymore. We’re cheering each other on.” It does make a difference, it really does, when Vanessa thinks about it. Not having to vy for the same opportunities, same goals.

Brooke’s success isn’t a detriment to Vanessa’s own, and vice versa. She knows that now.

“Plus, I’m not a bitch ass, immature, twenty year old anymore.” Vanessa is sheepish as she says it, watching Brooke giggle. “You succeed now? I’m gonna have my phone out to record everything with a proud fucking grin on my face.”

“Same.” Brooke tilts her head and the sunlight glints off of her hair and Vanessa’s never seen a more beautiful girl in her life. “I want those memories with you. I want them to happen.”

“Look at you getting all soft on me, B.” Vanessa leans forward to kiss her, cutting off the half hearted protest on Brooke’s lips (‘I’m not that soft’).

But it’s true, Brooke is. So soft and open in a way that Vanessa loves, in a way that she feels so lucky that she gets to experience, since Brooke likes to keep that part of herself hidden away, not showing it to just anyone. Vanessa had been lucky enough to have that version of Brooke in university in the early years. And now here Brooke is, trusting her and letting her see the most beautiful parts of herself again.

Not the fact that Brooke’s a great surgeon, even though she is. Not the fact that she’s brilliant, absolutely brilliant, a fact that everyone already knows.

But rather, the fact that Brooke’s grip on her hand always tightens when she’s happy, and also all the little kisses that she presses to the crook of Vanessa’s neck whenever they snuggle as they’re about to fall asleep. The way that Brooke seems to remember little flippant things that Vanessa says, ever so thoughtful, like when she brought coffee before their consult meeting with the entire team yesterday and Vanessa’s had a dash of vanilla, just the way she likes it.

The softer parts of Brooke that contrast from the tight ship she runs as a surgeon, the rigidity that she imposes. The parts that make Vanessa realize that she really still loves her, so so much.

Brooke’s alarm clock blares as the numbers shift over to 6:30, making them both jump. Brooke turns it off, and Vanessa can’t help the way she leans against her side, revelling in how Brooke wraps her arms around her and rests her chin on top of her head.

“We have to get ready.” Brooke mutters the words into her hair before pressing a kiss there, and it makes Vanessa want to squeeze her eyes shut tight.

“No, we don’t.”

“We have a surgery scheduled at 8:00 a.m. sharp.”

“Who said that?”

Brooke snorts. “Come on, baby. Let’s go.”

The term of endearment makes Vanessa’s heart flutter more than she wants to admit, as if she’s eighteen again and crushing on the girl that sits beside her in anatomy class with two french braids in her hair.

Except, now? She knows, really knows, how much this girl actually means to her. And how hard she’s going to work not to lose her again.

“Tie up the back of my gown for me?”

Vanessa dries her hands and turns to see Brooke standing with her back towards her, scrub cap already on along with her face mask, surgical gown on top of her scrubs but untied.

“Sure.” Vanessa double knots the ties on the gown the way she always does with her own, always remembering the one unfortunate instance when she hadn’t tied her gown properly and it promptly came off on top of a patient’s open chest. Not one of her finest moments.

“All done. Anyone tell you how fucking adorable you look with a scrub cap covered in cats?”

Brooke’s mask is covering half of her face, but Vanessa can still see the way she blushes, the top of her cheeks glowing pink. “Shut up.”

“I’m serious! It’s cute.” Vanessa protests, pointing to her own covered in puppies. “Besides. We kinda match.”

“That’s true.” Brooke grins behind her surgical mask, and Vanessa can tell by the way that her eyes scrunch.

The charge nurse for their surgery yells out a timecheck, and it makes Vanessa remember that they’re really about to do this together. After so much planning, so many late nights. So many fights in the early stages, which seem almost comical now, looking back at them.

She and Brooke are both too damn stubborn sometimes, though it’s something that Vanessa hopes never ever changes.

“You ready?” She reaches out, squeezes Brooke’s hand before letting go. They’re still at work, after all, but she knows how Brooke can get, how an extra check in never hurts.

“Yeah. Now c’mon.” Brooke tilts her head towards the operate suite, at the way their team is finishing their set up for the surgery. “It’s a beautiful day to save lives.”

Vanessa gapes. “You did not just quote Grey’s Anatomy at me-”

Brooke cackles as she follows her into the suite. “I’m quite the McDreamy, aren’t I?”

“You wish.”

Vanessa massages her own shoulder as they stand in the line for Tim Hortons, neither of them particularly keen that morning on packing lunches for after their joint surgery.

“I’m fucking sore from being hunched over.”

Brooke looks over at her with an adorably furrowed brow. “You’re a surgeon. You do this for a living.”

“And you’re supposed to say you’ll give me a massage.” Vanessa pouts, though it morphs into a grin when Brooke wraps an arm around her shoulders.

“If you’re patient and can wait until the end of the day. Can you do that?”

“It’ll be real difficult.” Vanessa lets out a fake sigh as they head to their table, where some of the neuro and cardiac surgeons have already began to eat. “I dunno if I’ll have it in me.”

“If you’re good, you can have something in you-”

“Bitch-”

They’re both giggling as they sit down at the table, and Vanessa can already see the incredibly curious faces of their coworkers.

“You two aren’t fighting?” Kameron points between them, squinting her eyes as if she’s attempting to solve a complex math problem.

Brooke shoots Vanessa a look, almost asking permission. Vanessa nods, because what the hell. It’ll be funny to see everyone’s reactions.

“Considering she woke up in my bed today, no.” Brooke takes a sip of her coffee as their table erupts into chaos.

“Goddamn! And y’all say that I’m the loud one.” Vanessa yelps when Yvie grabs her hand to high five it, ducks out of Kameron’s bear hug directed towards her. “Absolute animals.”

“So. Tell us.” Plastique looks delighted as she takes a bite of her sandwich. “Was the sex good? After that much fighting, it must be good.”

“A lady never kisses and tells.” Brooke smiles faux demurely before stealing a Timbit from Vanessa’s lunch.

“Hey-”  

“Sorry, baby.” Brooke doesn’t look the least bit sorry as she pops the Timbit into her mouth. “I’ll make it up to you later.”  

She’s so cute that Vanessa can’t even be mad about it.

Yvie wrinkles her nose. “You two are already gross. Unbelievable.”

Brooke grins. “Says the girl who wouldn’t shut up about her date with her girlfriend during the temporal lobe tumour removal last week.”

Yvie sticks her tongue out at both of them. “Hateful.”

“Truthful.”

Vanessa’s about to chime in, when she’s interrupted by the slam of Asia’s tray on the table, Asia herself looking out of breath and quite smug.

“You all won’t believe the tea I have on these two from yesterday.” Asia looks positively delighted as she points between Vanessa and Brooke.

Vanessa can’t help herself. “We already told everyone else. It ain’t breaking news no more, Anderson Cooper.”

“Damn. And here I was actually excited about something for once.” Asia scowls, before pausing. “Wait, how do you know who Anderson Cooper is?”

Vanessa scoffs. “I watch shit sometimes. Nah, I’m playing. It was on the TV in the cardiac outpatient waiting room the other day. I prefer 90 Day Fiancé, myself.”

Kameron snorts. “A woman of culture.”

“That I am, bitch.”

Brooke nudges Vanessa’s side. “Gotta go. Consultation with a patient in ten.”

Vanessa gives Brooke her best fake pout. She knows that they’re at work, surrounded by coworkers and patients and families, but sometimes it feels like time spent with Brooke passes by too fast, like it’s in fast forward.

“Don‘t give me that face.”

“Hmph.”

Brooke raises an eyebrow. “Don’t you have a meeting in ten, too?”

Vanessa shrugs. “Maybe so.”

“You’re something else.” Brooke reaches over to ruffle Vanessa’s hair and Vanessa yelps, because her curls don’t stay this nice with anyone messing them up.

“I’ll see you soon?” Brooke’s eyes are expectant as she stands up, gathering her things from the table.

“That you will.”

It’s true, in more ways than one. Vanessa doesn’t want to let Brooke go anytime soon.

[antireylodragsquad]

Could you like, please not reblog from reylo-is-abusive, they're a fucking abuser lmfao

The subject of this ask tells me it’s a serious message from a fellow tumblr user trying to tell me something I should probably know, but the wording of it says almost the opposite. I am?????? confused?????

On that note, I don’t actually follow reylo-is-abusive, and have never interacted with them, directly or indirectly. Any post we’ve directly reblogged from them probably came to us via the anti r*ylo tag. Due to the lack of familiarity with the blogger in question and the anonymous nature of this ask, I’m skeptical to quickly believe the accusations made in it.

In short: I’m gonna need receipts.

- Mod Rey

[wickedyan]

The Blood In Your Veins Excites Me- Chapter 2

Read chapter one on tumblr or on Ao3

Warnings- Non consensual drugging, NSFW, dub-con

Character- Lawrence Oleander, Boyfriend to Death

-

As you awoke, you were keenly aware of your surroundings.

That same room. Plants in every corner, a beautiful view, those green curtains. Nothing in particular had changed, it looked a little cleaner than when you had last been awake.

What day was it? How long had you been here for? Days passed quickly here, with Lawrence’s tea doing nothing to help that.

He wasn’t in the room, you noted. Your binds were of average strength today. He liked to change them often, he didn’t want them to make you too uncomfortable.

It was… odd. He kept you bound, no contact with the outside view bar from that tease of a window. But, he took care of you. He had kept his promise. He would let you shower as often as you wished, brushed your hair, changed your clothing, fed you, kept you warm and sheltered. He’d even replaced that awful wooden chair with a much more comfortable one. The most bizarre part? He asked of nothing in return except for your company. He liked to touch your skin, feel it, smell it. He wanted to smell your natural odours, feel the wrinkles and skin folds. He wanted it all. And now, he had it.

But lately… He had been antsy.

It was only odd because of how comfortable he had become around you in the past few… however long you had been there. No more nervous twitches or stutters. No, he wasn’t confident, no. He was… content. You liked this side of him more than his frightening side, when he would let his hair loose, and stare at you with those eyes, those eyes that promised you pain and suffering. That’s when he would brew some tea. You would, more often than not, partake too. It was more calming than you would think.

This odd, antsy change had you wondering. What could have possibly happened to him? The only times he left the apartment was when he left for work. He would even have groceries delivered, not needing to venture out for any other reason. Had something happened in the little time before and after work on his way back to the apartment?

No… He trusted you. He confided in you, often actually. He would have told you if something had happened.

Why couldn’t he talk to you? More importantly; what was bothering him so much that he couldn’t talk to you about it?

The click of locks startled you from your thoughts, you gazed to your left, watching as the doorhandle slowly turned to reveal the blond. He slowly trudged in, dragging his feet as he dropped his satchel-bag somewhere along the hallway. His eyes were on the ground. He looked exhausted. Now that you thought about it, he had been much longer than you had expected.

“Sorry I took so long, pet, work held me up…” he mumbled, shrugging off his jacket, making his way to the bathroom.

“It’s alright… I slept anyway.”

“Oh.” He didn’t seem to be fully focussed on what you were saying, so you didn’t bother repeating yourself. He shut the door behind him and you could hear the tell-tale sound of running water. Steam crept from under the door, and you could hear him lightly humming.

You sighed. You were in need of a shower too, your last one was two… a few days ago. You didn’t do much, so you didn’t need to shower as often, but at this point it was very uncomfortable.

Soon enough, Lawrence emerged from the bathroom a towel around his waist and another being rubbed into his hair, drying off the excess water.

“Law… could I please have one too?”

Lawrence widened his eyes, pausing his movements, “Yes… Of course, pet. I’ll just put some clothes on and I’ll be right out.”

You nodded, waiting patiently. It didn’t take long for Lawrence to come back from his bedroom, clothed and a fresh towel in hand. You heard him shuffling around the bathroom for a minute, probably picking up his dirty clothes and making sure your shampoo and bodywash was accessible.

Untying your wrists, Lawrence gave them a soft kiss, before tugging you towards the bathroom.

“Your things are already inside, but I still need to get you some clothes. I’ll grab them and come back in a second.”

You nodded, “Yes. Thanks.”

“No problem, pet.”

He left you in the bathroom, so you shut the door, beginning to undress. You twisted the nozzle, sighing at the feeling of hot water that flowed from the showerhead. You stepped inside, resting for a moment in the hot water, wetting yourself.

“(Y/N), I thought I’d bring some pyjamas instead of normal clothes. It’ll be dark soon, so theres no need to wor—oh…”

He hadn’t bothered to knock, spying you in the nude. You weren’t too bothered or upset, you knew it was a mistake, but you were still embarrassed. “Ah… Okay, that’s fine…”

Your flinch preceded the quick and loud slam of the door.

Lawrence stood on the other side of the door, face burning and eyes wide. His hand pushed his hair back, clutching onto his bangs.

‘Fuck’, he thought.

He was… in need. See, he was happy that you were here, overjoyed even! But now he was being selfish. He wanted more from you. He desired to lay with you, clothes long abandoned.

You wouldn’t want that. But he desperately did.

His eyes lit up as an idea came to mind.

After turning off the shower and the steam had withered, you realised that Lawrence must’ve been cooking dinner. It smelled delicious. Roast, maybe? Towelling off, you pulled on the fresh clothes. A sigh came from your mouth, why did female pyjamas have to be so skimpy? As you tossed your clothes in the dirty laundry basket, you slowly made your way to the kitchen, taking a seat as you watched Lawrence work.

His head lifted in surprise, “Oh! You’re done already, huh? Well… dinner is almost ready so…”

You nodded, the corners of your lips lifting slightly.

“Are you… cold? I can give you my sweater if you’d like?” Lawrence’s gaze was on your skin, warmth rising to his face as he took you in.

Short and revealing… The skimpy shorts exposed the majority of your thighs, skin ablaze from the intensity of his stare. On your upper half you wore a singlet that failed to come down enough to cover your lower stomach, just hiding your bellybutton. Feeling self-conscious, you attempted to pull it down, only for it to snap back up to the place it had started.

You weren’t cold, if anything, you were too warm, your face ardent with pink.

“No. But thank you.”

Lawrence slowly tore his eyes from your exposed skin, focusing back onto the dinner he was preparing. He paused, perhaps hesitating, then he walked towards the cabinet, picking out a glass. He poured an orange beverage from a small bottle into the glass. He poured himself a drink from a different bottle.

“Here, I put some vitamins inside, should help you since you don’t see too much of the sun these days.”

You thanked him, taking small sips of the drink as you watched him toss vegetables around in a pan. Early in your stay there, he had told you that he had never been too talented at cooking. He said that he learned so that he could feed you good food. At first, the food at been mediocre at best. Edible. But now, he was your personal chef. Usually, he would ask you what you wanted to eat, but maybe he had a craving tonight.

“Sorry, but I need to get into the cupboard underneath the bench…” Lawrence pointed at the hidden cupboard door that was immediately in front of your legs. Quickly standing and moving the chair out of his way, he crouched down to retrieve a few bowls.

What surprised you was the small, wet puddle that you had left on the seat. Quickly before Lawrence could see, you wiped it away. He smiled warmly at you as he moved the chair back where it was, gesturing you to take your seat.

The wet feeling in your panties shocked you once more. Once you had noticed it, you became aware of a dull throbbing that took place in your panties.

You were… extremely aroused.

Your senses were heightened, and each time you readjusted your position on the seat, you had to bite your lip and force yourself to abstain from grinding down into the chair. You glanced up at Lawrence, he was completely preoccupied with putting all the food into a square, porcelain dish.

You watched him for a moment, making sure he wouldn’t suddenly look back, before reaching down into your panties.

Your eyes widened at the amount of slick that had pooled in your underwear. Your face heated as you began circling your cunt, rubbing and massaging. Everything was extremely sensitive for some reason. Gasping as your finger swiped over your clit, you bit your lip to contain the noises that tried to force their way out. You felt naughty, touching yourself while Lawrence stood only metres away, it ignited a fire in the pit of your stomach like nothing had ever done before.

You squealed as a rough hand clamped over your wrist, “(Y/N)… Look how bad you’re being, touching yourself… That’s not what good girls do.”

Flinching, you turned your head to look up at Lawrence. His expression was dark, eyes glassy and intense as he stared down at where his hand squeezed you. His cheeks flushed, panting.

Cursing under his breath, his eyes lit up.

“It… worked.”

Reaching around your waist, he lifted you over his shoulder, forcing your hand out of your pants. Kicking open the door to his room, he threw you down onto the bed. Staring down at you from the end of the bed, he groaned. His fingers deftly unbuttoned his shirt, having already shrugged off his jacket.

“I-it really worked. Look at you, your panties are filthy… I… can’t wait to taste you.”

Your eyes widened, he had drugged you. The drink he had given you… it had been saltier than usual, now that you thought about it.

But you were too horny to care, he wanted you, and fuck if you wanted him too.

You bit your lip, a wave of arousal washed over you as his skin was revealed, thick sections of inked skin circled his large biceps. He paused, his hungry eyes taking in your bareness, those skimpy shorts showing off more than intended.

Maybe it was intentional, Lawrence had been the one to buy them.

“Fuck…” he mumbled, “Ever since I first saw you, your luscious thighs, full of muscle and blood. So warm…” Crawling up towards you, he came at you slowly, your heart beating so fast and hard that you thought that it would come out of your throat. “The fat of your stomach… How deep do I have to cut for your precious lifeforce to spill out…? I wonder… But not tonight. No. I just… need to have you…”

His large hands gripped onto your thighs dragging his hand up and down its length, inching closer to the where the shorts began to cover your sopping pussy.

The heat in your stomach was becoming uncomfortable, your private’s throbbing. Clenching your hands in the bed sheets you gazed into Lawrence’s eyes, seeing nothing but pure hunger and dominance.

Lawrence leaned over you, pushing his pelvis into your own, groaning as he watched your face twist in pleasure and pain. It hurt… “Lawrence… do something… It—”

“Hmmm… I don’t know, princess… touching yourself isn’t what good girls do…”

Picking up his discarded shirt, he began to tie your wrists to the bedhead. You tested the bonds, tight.

He settled himself in between your thighs, forcing your legs apart, chuckling as you did nothing to resist. Your face red and hot, eyes watery and fucked-out, pussy clenching in anticipation, lips bitten raw… even though he hadn’t touched you yet. His hands pulled at your shorts that left nothing to the imagination, revealing your pretty, pink panties.

“Aw… did you wear these just for me, princess? So… polite.”

You were… mad. You didn’t want this, but because of Lawrence’s actions, if he didn’t touch you, you didn’t know what you would do. It felt as if you would die if Lawrence didn’t touch you soon.

“You… chose my clothes.”

Lawrence’s face was anything but amused, painfully squeezing your thigh in reprimand. “Good girls don’t speak back, princess…”

He was rougher now, ripping off your shirt, leaving it at your wrists, not needing to untie your hands. Pushing his face into your neck, he bit. Hard. You cried out as his teeth sunk into your throat, thrashing as arousal filled your body.

“You’ll do well to be a good little girl, hm? It’s okay. I have you, I’m gonna make you feel really good…”

Nodding, you agreed. “I’m sorry, Lawrence… I’ll be good…”

He began lapping at your folds, sucking and kissing at your clit until you were squeezing his head with your thighs, but he forced them back apart, fucking your sensitive hole with that skilled tongue. A burning heat formed in the pit of your stomach, the fire being fed at each suck to your sensitive bud.

You let out a loud moan as he slid a finger inside your hungry slit. You vision was blurred, hands gripping onto the bed sheets as you thrusted up onto his face, biting down hard on your lip as he added another.

“Oh pet… you’re ready for me…” His face was moist with your arousal, the flame in your gut burning hotter as you watched him suck the slick from his fingers, icy blue eyes trained on your own.

His pants were tossed somewhere behind him, underwear pushed down just low enough to expose his hard, dripping cock. The blunt girth was pushed up against your slit, teasing you and himself. With one sharp thrust, his length was buried deep inside of you, ripping a guttural scream from the depths of your lungs.

“Fuck!!” you screamed, thrashing against your bonds as you begged for more. More more more.

And he gave you more, fucking into you hard and without care, nails digging into your scorching hot skin. Your body was on fire, pussy leaking like a faucet.

And Lawrence loved every single part about it. The needy look in your eyes, your hands that grasped the fabric that bound them, gripping tighter with every new thrust. You wanted him, he could tell with the way your walls clenched around him. You had never wanted him like this before.

You were warm, burning up his cock and it felt so fucking good. He sped up his thrusts, wanting to feel your hot cum coating his dick.

You gasped, squirming on his dick, crying out as he began rubbing on your clit. Your skin erupted in goosebumps as you reached your climax, broken moans filling the room.

A hand wrapped around your neck, cutting off blood circulation and your airways, his cock still slamming into you. Your eyes widened, bugging out of your eye sockets as your skin tinted red became purple. Your hands struggling in your bonds, you thrashed your body, staring up into his carnivorous eyes, staring down at you with no remorse, a sly smile lifting onto his face.

He fucked into your sensitive pussy, stealing another orgasm from you as you lost consciousness.

Your slick tasted delicious, he wondered if your blood was as sweet.