#that hurts and is not fun and is not easy

[quarterlifekitty]

Hi! could you possibly write something about a fuckboy!soap and shy!reader that he uses for sex, and she keeps letting him? im craving angsty angst ANGST that just keeps hurting…you don’t have to if you don’t want to and thank you if you do! Have a great day!

Okay, one thing you all should know about me? Is that I’m a weenie lol so I can’t help but make things a little hopeful most of the time. Also— gonna make this like a college type AU

Soap clocks you from a mile away when he sees you at a party. There’s a cup of beer in your hand that you’ve been nursing, just sipping to have something to do while you cling to the side of the friend who forced you to come.

He’s seen you in his classes before. You’re good. Not the type to be seen in a place like this. And that kinda whets his appetite. He wants to fuck you, break you, make you fall apart for his own amusement.

He nudges Gaz— they have the routine down to a science— splitting up the birdies that are a little too huddled together so they can have their way with them. Gaz runs interference this time, Johnny mouthing an “I owe ye” his way— chatting up and pulling your friend away to talk a bit more. You’re alone now, and Johnny swoops in, weaving through people on a warpath.

He corners you expertly, and you’re a pathetically easy read. Easy to tease, to coax, to push. He just has to throw in a few lines about how pretty you look, peppered between him saying he’s always wanted to talk with you, always admired you in class— he gives just enough detail to lull you into thinking this is courting. That he’s going to fuck you because he likes you.

Works like a charm. Always does. You clumsily follow him to his room—“Ye didnae ken? This is my fraternity’s house, bonnie,”— as he pulls you along by the hand.

He enjoys pulling you apart. Like the birds taking Prometheus’s liver. He’s not a complete animal, he makes you cum, but he doesn’t give you kisses the way you’d probably hoped he would. He’ll tell his mates later— it was kinda cute how fucking bad you were at giving head, too.

He lets you stay the night even though your clinging is a bit annoying. Pushing you out would burn this bridge, and he’s not ready to do that just yet. Not when he could keep having fun.

Come morning your clothes are tossed your way (sans panties, those are going in his trophy collection), and he has the decency to drop you off at your place with the promise of further contact.

Come your next class, he’s back to acting like he doesn’t know you. You’re shy, but you’re not stupid. It’s easy to see that you were played, and you curse yourself for falling into it.

So why do you show up when he texts you, asking you to come over?

Promethean indeed.

And it keeps happening.

It’s not like he treats you badly— that’s what you tell yourself. You’re just the idiot for expecting more than orgasms. It’s nice to feel wanted. It’s not nice to put your clothes on and get out right after, but you’re willing to ignore that. You shouldn’t be. But you are.

You’re not the kind of girl who gets asked out. So why refuse the one source of attention you have? He makes you cum, right? That’s more than a lot of guys do, so it would be unfair to expect more. High maintenance. Right?

If Johnny can see the hurt behind your eyes when you turn to check behind you when you leave, as if he’ll suddenly change his mind and call you back into bed to hold you, he doesn’t do anything about it. He’s content to tug on his jeans and brush past you with a cigarette in his mouth.

You steel yourself as usual, double checking the straightness of your clothes as if it’ll make you feel like less of a cheap whore when his housemates glance your way as you leave.

The door across from Johnny’s is almost always open, despite how closed off its occupant seems. You’ve never met Simon. Well, you really haven’t met anyone in Soap’s life. That’s not what he keeps you for, is it? Fucktoys don’t get introduced to the friend group. Doesn’t stop Simon from staring holes in your back every time you leave. Must think you’re easy. Must wonder if Johnny’ll mind if he has a go. Or maybe he just thinks you’re pathetic. You certainly do.

But it’s happened one too many times. Apparently, even a worm will turn. His stare itches and crawls up your skin when you already feel like such a piece of meat— chewed up and spit out. And you must be losing flavor. Before long you won’t even have this. You turn to look at him instead of walking on as usual.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” You spit in a tone that surprises you. You’ve never said anything like that to someone, not in earnest, anyway.

“Lemme take y’out somewhere.”

What?

What?

[railingsofsorrow]

Back To Normalcy

[JJ Maybank x reader]

summary: JJ often caught your unfocused gaze drifting to a random corner, lost inside your head. After Morocco, he noticed that a lot.

pairing: jj maybank x f!reader

w.c: 2.8K

warnings/content: near death experiences (flashbacks); obx4 ending is discussed (as in graphic descriptions of what happened so be aware); jj being the best whipped boyfriend; PTSD is hinted; hurt/comfort (trust me, no one dies); paragraphs in italics are flashbacks.

A/N: this is kind of a fix-it and it is set after the pogues find the blue crown. it will have discrepancies regarding canon cause I didn't watch obx4 part 2. bear with me. I'm editing this in the middle of class lol. merry christmas to those who celebrate and a happy new years!!!

navi

masterpost

obx masterlist

request me something

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“So it's like... We gotta think of everything. Yeah, we found it, but we gotta—”

“... Have a solid plan, yeah, Pope.” John B cut him off, earning a glare which made the edge of his lips quirk up in amusement. If there was one thing the Pogues had fun in doing, that thing was annoying Pope Heyward. It was just too easy. “Sorry, sorry.” The Routledge boy raised his arms, pretending to surrender but the grin in his mouth betrayed him. John B never felt the will to smile more than he did in that moment. He had his friends. His family. With him. Safe and sound. Finally. Everyone in one piece. Barely. . . And back home. What more could he ask for?

What more could any of them ask for, really?

You tuned out the conversation for the tenth time that night. You loved bonfires. Especially the ones where your friends organized, where you felt at home around their stupid jokes and drunk laughter.

But you couldn't focus tonight. Somehow you always ended up right back in the scalding sand of Morocco, blood sipping through your fingers as tried desperately to stop it. Your screams of agony even though you weren't the one stabbed echoed through your brain like you had worked hard to memorize it.

You'd rather it had been you, actually. No doubt about that.

The soft nudge in your leg made you step out of the infusion of bad memories your head had conjured up. As your eyes adjusted to the bonfire's flames, you noticed all your friends staring at you in expectancy.

“What?”

Instead of the nudge, you felt cold fingers come in contact with your thigh and you almost flinched at the coldness — that coldness — before you caught the beer bottle in his hand. With a gentle squeeze to your thigh, JJ brought you back to Earth.

“I was just tellin' them here,” he began, leaving his beer aside to scoot closer. “how I'm gonna kidnap you to South America any moment now.”

“Hey.” You forced your breathing to slow down. He didn't need you freaking out now, he needed you to be on your best sane behavior, that's what JJ needed. He needed you. “Jay? Baby, take a deep breath, it's alright.”

“He, um...” JJ's shaky hands reached yours and you shook your head when his fingers curled around your bloody ones in his stomach. “I can't— You—”

“I'm here. It's okay. It's gonna be okay, yeah? You just, you just have to keep breathing. Slowly, like me? Okay?”

Where was everybody?

“And how are you gonna do that?” You forced out, taking a long sip of your beer in a foolish attempt of drowning the memories in your head.

Sarah let out a snicker and Cleo's thick accent scolded somebody but you couldn't bring yourself to the present moment. No, you were still fucking there.

“Pope!” You bellowed now unable to control the shakiness of your hands as they tried to stop the blood. So much blood. So much blood. Why? “John B! Where is— Kiara! Baby, hey, hey!” You used one of your hands to grab his cheek, tilting his head to look at you, his half-lidded eyes showed you how weak he was. You didn't care that his pretty face was smeared with your bloody hands, you had to make him stay awake. “JJ? JJ!”

He blinked with difficulty, gazing up at you. “Hi...” And he had the decency to smile. He smiled! How can someone who has been stabbed smile and it takes your breath away the same away? You never thought you'd see his last smile and you shouldn't even be thinking of that because you both are young and have a whole life ahead of you so why would you be thinking of your boyfriend's last smile?

“Hey.” You cried out. “J, you gotta stay awake for me, okay? I'm getting help. You just have to—”

“I love you.”

Certainly, your whole body froze right at that second. That hadn't been the first time he said it, no. JJ made sure to let you know he loved you thousands of times ever since he said the three little words for the first time. And every time he said it, you felt the warmth of his arms around you, his sunbathed skin against yours and the softness of his lips curling in his favorite spot on your neck after a long day.

That's what “I love you” means when JJ says it.

Except now there was no warmth because he felt cold. Everything regarding him was cold. The kind of coldness a boy with the sun in his smile shouldn't have. There was no smile, not the same smile, at least. There was no life because your favorite boy was saying goodbye and that's what his words meant this time.

Coming back to the bonfire was almost as if a bucket of cold water had been splashed in your face. Your friends had vanished. Nobody was around but you.

“Hey.”

. . . And JJ.

You should've thought he wouldn't have left you alone.

“Hey,” you offered him a half-assed smile. “Where's everyone?”

“Inside.” He mentioned towards the house with a jerk of his head before turning back to you. His cerulean eyes studied your frame for a bit before he let out a sigh, standing up and outstretching a hand in your direction.

You stared at it and him with a raise of your brow. A question.

There was nothing JJ hated more than waiting. So, he didn't wait. He lowered fully to kiss your lips since you were sitting down, enjoying the way they parted in surprise. Stealthily, he wrapped an arm behind your back and beneath your knees and before you could react he pulled you up as if you weighted a penny.

“Jesse James Maybank!”

Oh, he was well aware he was in deep shit when you say that but hell, he missed having a reaction from you that was something other than forced smiles and blank stares.

JJ often caught your unfocused gaze drifting to a random corner, lost inside your head. After Morocco, he noticed that a lot.

“Not the government name, babe.”

“Dude, put me down.”

A gasp. “And now I've been called dude what has this world become!”

He halted near the water, after walking across the beach for a few long minutes with you in his arms. You just stopped fighting, slapping his butt at every step he took.

“You think it's the drums or somethin'?”

“Could be.”

As he sent a look of disapproval your way once he placed you down on your feet, it pulled a laugh out of you.

His fingers — no longer cold — cupped your cheeks and brought you closer. “Do it again.”

“Do what?”

His eyes carried that glint of pure joy mixed with the ocean blue that would get you hypnotized. You just didn't know why this time.

“Your laugh. Haven't heard it in so long.”

Oh.

“That's not true.” You held his wrists just to feel the warmth of his skin when he began caressing your cheeks.

JJ hummed, the sound a gentle protest against your claim. He's come a long way to know your little tells, so he wasn't not easily fooled. With a glance in your way, he knew the hidden meanings.

“Uh, yeah. It is, babe.”

You pulled your hair behind your ears, burying your toes in the sand as you racked your brain to seek an excuse that would work to get you out of that conversation. Any excuse would do, really. But you feared you used all of them since you came back from Morocco. And he knew that.

“Are you ready to talk about it?”

Your throat bobbed as you swallowed down with difficulty.

“Are you?”

“That's not what I asked.”

You finally glanced up, finding him staring forward at the waves, almost distracted. No, not almost. The look in his eyes, you recognize in yourself when drifted back to two weeks ago and the horror took over your mind. It didn't only happen to the two of you, you remember that every time you caught John B outside in the middle of the night, arms behind his head as he stared at nowhere in particular. Or Sarah, when she would crawl up into your bed saying she missed you but you knew exactly what she meant by that. Or Cleo. Oftentimes you needed to force something out of her given everything she went through otherwise she would shove it all in and then never share. Or Pope, because he lost a lot and yes he would never say he hated the whole chasing gold adventure or Poguelandia but he missed safety and a time when you didn't have to worry about danger at your every corner. He's getting used to peace a little more now. Or Kiara, the girl who was a fighter through and through and would choose her friends over anyone in the world, but she needed reassurance once in a while and you all would coddle her a little when you knew it was time for it.

The look.

They all had it. They all suffered through stuff that made them carry it.

And not talking about it made it worse, you told Cleo that once, but since when did you ever take your own advice?

“Yeah, well, Jayj.” You begin, crossing your arms over your chest as the wind picked up. “It happened to you, not to me. It's you who should be ready to talk about it, not me.”

“I remember the blood in your hands, my blood,” JJ still didn't look at you. He was ready to talk about it, not ready-ready but he could accept what happened. That he almost wasn't here. “I remember your voice asking—pleading for me to not close my eyes—”

“Stop.”

JJ finally turned to you, his lips tugging downwards with sadness. “See? It's you who can't talk about it.”

“You almost died in my arms and you expect me to just accept that as if it was a common occurrence?!” It came out as an accusation but in reality you didn't really blame him. He had no fault whatsoever in being stabbed and almost dying. The fault relayed only on the person who caused this torture on all of you. “I can't...” Your voice cracked with newfound emotion. “I can't imagine living in a world where you're not in it, JJ.”

Before he could speak, you cut him off. The dam had broke and now everything you had been hold it in was going to be unleashed.

“You told me you loved me and then you... You stopped breathing.”

He blinked, brows furrowing in thought. JJ knew there was some things he couldn't entirely recall that day, but he didn't remember that.

“I love you.”

If his heartbeat was faint before, now it was non-existent and if felt like the weight of the world had crumbled down on you.

“Open your eyes,” you begged, grabbing his cheeks as a cry of pain left your lips. He was cold. His eyelids shut as if he was sleeping. He was calm. “JJ, open your eyes!” And that's when you felt something touch your shoulder, different hands and voices beside you. All you could focus was on him. “No, c'mon. Jay. Jay? I didn't—” you held his head to your chest, fully sobbing. It was like your heart was being ripped apart. “I didn't say it back.”

Even if she had told him she loved him as many times before, she hadn't say it one last time in time.

You flinched slightly when you were pulled into a pair of arms, fingers reaching the back of your neck to gently press you against a chest. A beating heart welcomed your ears and you didn't realize you were crying until the sobs must've echoed the entire beach.

“I'm sorry, I don't— I don't remember that.”

Your cries were muffled by his shirt. “It wasn't your fault,” you said, your chest tight. “I wish it hadn't gotten to that point cause it was... Fuck.”

JJ tightened his arms around your shoulders, burying his face into your neck. He was still clearly shaken up by what happened, reasonably so. But seeing you like that... He would've take back every decision he made that took your group to that moment just so you wouldn't have to go through that.

He complained when you pulled back a little, drying your tears to glance up at him. Your lips stretching into a timid smile. A real one.

“I'm glad you're okay.” You said with a nod, exhaling as the fog diminished significantly. “I'm happy. But I'm so deeply sorry that I couldn't do more. That I almost let you—”

“Hey, no, no.” JJ was quick to interrupt your train of thought, grabbing your shoulders. “Do not even go there, alright? Absolutely not. Don't even— babe.” He leaned down to connect your foreheads. “You saved my life. All of you. You really think I'd be fine with going... wherever that I wouldn't be able to annoy the shit out of you? I mean— ow!”

You glared at him after punching his forearm though you weren't upset as soon as he gave you his disarming grin that turned your legs to Jell-O.

“You told me you can't imagine living in a world where I'm not in it, right? Well.” JJ brought your hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles as his blue eyes full of life studied you in a serious manner. “I happen to absolutely not want to live in a world without in it either...” He tugged you closer. “It would be boring as hell and that's why I would probably, I don't know, crawl out of whatever grave I was in to tickle your feet during the night.”

“Fuck off.” You groaned with a laugh and he shut you up with a kiss, his hand crawling up on your back to press your closer.

“I can't live without your sounds,” he kissed the edge of your mouth, then moved towards your jaw. “Any of them. I can't live without your smile or seeing your lashes fluttering before you wake up. Or without seeing you when you're pissed at me and you pout the entire time, it just makes me want to kiss you but I know it would earn me a punch in the neck.”

“Yeah it would.”

He chuckled, lifting you so you could wrap your legs around his middle. He held the back of your thighs, thumbs running through your smooth skin.

“Hey.” He said softly, bumping his nose with yours as the waves crashed a few feet away, butting in on your moment. “I love you. And I'm gonna stay in your life for as long as you let me. There will be no stupid rushed goodbyes or near-death experiences that will stop that, alright?” He smiled when you nodded, pressing your lips to his. “Yeah.” He started kissing your whole face then just to listen to the inevitable sound of your laugh again. He could never get tired of it. JJ would crawl out of hell just to hear that sound for the rest of his life.

“And about that South America trip—”

“I'm in.” You said, resting your chin on his shoulder, fingertips scratching his scalp as you stared at the sea. “You can kidnap me to wherever you want.”

His excited laughter echoed in your ears like your favourite song chiming in during a stormy night.

“Oh we're gonna have so much fun.” JJ started rambling on his way back to the house, you in his arms because he refused to put you down. “I'm finally teaching you how to surf! And we can visit all the beaches in Brazil, 'm gonna show you some pictures, it'll be amazin', baby, you'll see.”

“I can't wait.” You mumbled with a kiss to his temple. “Are you just gonna carry me around or...”

“Yes.” He pecked your lips, hands squeezing your waist lightly which earned a proper curse out of you and his usual untamed laugh that you were crazy about. “Just stay put and look pretty.”

You rolled your eyes, wrapping both arms around his neck and didn't complain. Why would you? You had your favorite boy holding you in his arms, rambling about your future plans to South America on his way to your place. You had nothing to complain about.

You just had to get used to getting back to normalcy.

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taglist: @hoeshissworld

[tkomptgoedluv]

watermelon.

icantbelieveiletyougetaway pt.3

pt1. here | pt.2 here | pt.3

joost klein x f! reader

tags: f! reader, non-famous! reader, reader still really needs to see a therapist, established friendship, angst angst and even more angst, did i mention angst?, tooth-rotting fluff, so fluffy it’s honestly a little cringe <3, all characters are dutch and speak in dutch but dialogue is written in english for obvious reasons.

word count: 3,494.

warnings: very brief + vague reference to SA, rpf.

notes: hello!! welcome to pt.3 <3 this is probably the part that i’m most proud of, probably because it weirdly hurt the most to write. a couple fun facts about this part: reader’s coat is heavily based on one i have in real life and absolutely adore. also, i genuinely couldn’t bring myself to touch this wip for two whole days because my personal life started to match up with this storyline and i did not like it! became a little too self-indulgent. anyways — enjoy!! lemme know what you think.

love you all lots 💋

── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──

in a lot of ways, the whole situation was more or less your own idea of hell — ironic, considering it all started with literally the worst night of your life.

not once did you ever think that you’d be here, that this was how things were gonna go. the fun part? you don’t even know how you got here in the first place. for someone so in the middle of it all, you know surprisingly little about what actually happened, or what you must’ve done wrong.

all that you know is that it’s different now. joost is different now.

you still text everyday, a few phone calls here and there, and you’ll see him in person a few times a month or more, but you can still feel it. the subtle lack of emotion in his messages, the only-ever increasing wait times in between responses, the missing details in his stories that you’d still end up hearing from your friends. something, at some point, shifted and joost just didn’t seem to be your joost anymore.

at first, you tried to think nothing of it. you weren’t exactly a stranger to anxiety; it’s always been just a little too easy for you to get lost inside your own head. this also wasn’t the first time that you had fallen down this rabbit hole, suddenly convinced that someone you love doesn’t even like you because they said something in a slightly different tone once.

but then those weird few days where things didn’t feel quite right turned into weeks, and it just didn’t feel like nothing anymore.

you thought it could’ve been the videos because, as predicted, entire montages of the fight found their way onto each and every little corner of the internet. joost could be seen clear as day swinging for him, landing punch after punch until one of his friends would eventually step in. though somehow, the backlash against joost never came. for every clip there was a ‘story-time’ to go right along with it, and every single one explained how joost was just defending ‘this girl that had been attacked by that guy.’

so instead you exhausted yourself asking if everything was alright, just in case there was something else going on that he also hadn’t told you. but there was only so many times that you could ask the same question over and over again, only to get the same answer back.

joost was fine; great even.

so it had to be you. nothing was wrong, nothing bad had happened, it was simply just you that had repelled him all of a sudden. and that was all you could think about whilst you sat in a room surrounded by your closest friends — joost included.

it was someone’s birthday, a friend of a friend who’s name was still unknown to you and yet somehow you still ended up with an invite. aspon was on your left, deep in a conversation with stuntje about some new anime you’d never heard of, and alanis was on your right, asking to see pictures of daan’s latest art piece.

you, of course, were there in between them all, just staring into space. all of the ice in your drink had melted as it sat forgotten about in your hands, and you were fairly confident that you had memorised each and every scratch in the wooden flooring. you were yet to find a better place to look other than the floor, because of course it was joost that had to be sat opposite you.

he had pulled the short straw really, because by the time he came back in from his cigarette outside, the only seat left was one of those awful, plastic fold-up chairs. like the others he too was wrapped up in a conversation of his own, only his included a girl that you’d never seen before, and he was making her laugh a lot.

you didn’t have a single right to absolutely despise what it was that you were seeing, but still your skin felt hot and itchy, and tears burned behind your eyes. despite arriving together in your group and being seated a measly three feet away from each other, joost was yet to even glance in your direction, let alone talk to you. the blatant avoidance was unbearable; the new ‘you’ that he was talking to was even worse.

but with the anger came the shame, because really, you had no excuse to be feeling like this. two strangers with mutual friends, talking with one another at a house party of all places, wasn’t exactly incriminating. they also weren’t touching or even flirting for that matter — from what you could hear, their conversation seemed limited to small anecdotes about the people in common they both knew.

you weren’t being fair, you weren’t being reasonable; there was no excuse for the tightness in your chest.

without a word, you got up and made a dash for the balcony; desperate for a cigarette. so desperate in fact, that you didn’t stop to grab your jacket despite the rain bashing against the windows. you just needed the fresh air, needed space away from whatever the fuck was going on in there.

the small roof that the balcony upstairs provided did little to shield you from the rain. your hair quickly fell damp around the sides of your face as the wind brought goosebumps to your arms. you really should’ve stopped to grab your coat, you were soaking now.

but the pure, unbridled relief that you felt when you breathed in the smoke of your cig made it all worth it, though. it was something else to focus on, something to help soothe all of your aches and pains. best of all, it gave you a reason to be by yourself for a while — a moment alone to think, to breathe, a chance to get a fucking grip.

you took another drag of your cigarette.

“think you forgot this, schatje.”

over the sound of the heavy-falling rain and the music from inside, you hadn’t heard the balcony door slide open and shut again.

from the corner of your eye you saw joost standing there, clad in a black gilet and the same adidas track-jacket that you had bought for him two birthdays ago. your coat was in his outstretched hands; a big, red furry thing that almost swallowed you whole every time you put it on.

“yeah…thanks.”

you wanted to cry.

the silence that followed was heavy and awkward; neither of you could even look at each other as you took your jacket from him and slipped it on. whilst you focused on looking outwards towards the skyline, blinking away any tears that threatened to spill, joost busied himself with lighting up a cigarette of his own. it felt like you were standing next to a stranger, and not someone who quite literally knew every single little thing about you.

someone who always picked up the phone when you called; someone whose bed you’ve woken up naked in just a few too many times to count.

“you, uh, you doing okay?”

you almost choked on your cigarette.

he’d barely even glanced your way all night, too distracted by other female attention to really care that you were there at all, and now he wanted to know how you were doing? oh he had to be joking.

you stubbed out your cig underneath your shoe and went to storm back inside, shoving past him with your shoulder as you did so. you had almost made it too, before he caught you by the arm and gently pulled you back. it really pissed you off how hurt he looked, like this wasn’t all his fault in the first place.

“hey, can we not just talk for a minute? i wanna know what’s been up with you recently. we don’t really talk anymore.”

as hard as you could you pushed him off of you, and then you pushed him once more for good measure. you couldn’t bite it back anymore, couldn’t keep it all from spilling out when your blood was already boiling. if you were to regret it in the morning, you would just blame it on the few drinks you’ve already had.

“and why the fuck do you think that is, joost? tell me.”

a small part of you that you really couldn’t quite understand, genuinely hoped that he would push you back. that he’d get all up in your face, yelling at the top of his lungs, just as angry with you as you were with him. you wanted him to shout, to scream at you about how wrong you were; you wanted to feel crazy for even thinking that something could ever go wrong between the two of you.

you didn’t want him to just…stand there with his tail tucked between his legs, looking like he had already given up on you a long time ago. you found yourself shoving him again, only hard enough to knock him back a step or two this time.

“tell me!”

now more than ever you wished that you could stay angry, that you knew how to hold onto the outrage instead of always just breaking down into pieces. it made you feel so small the way that your voice was cracking; your shouts quickly shrinking into cries. you felt like a child again, begging to understand why everyone always left in the end.

“i just needed to work some stuff out, okay? none of this was meant to happen. i never wanted to make you cry.”

you pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes, the state of your mascara becoming an afterthought, before raking your fingers through your hair. thin strands stuck to the corners of your face and the back of your neck.

“please, tell me what i can do to make it better.”

joost was panicking now, looking a lot like an old dog that somehow knew it was about to be left behind at the shelter. you could see it in the way his hands were shaking and how he couldn’t quite seem to stand still, shifting from one leg to another.

“you can tell me what happened; what changed or what i did wrong. i don’t care.”

from the look on his face, you never would have guessed that all you’d asked him for was the truth; ‘panicked’ was no longer the right word.

“i can’t. i promise, i’ll tell you later but i can’t tell you here. not like this.”

you laughed — you couldn’t help it. three months ago, when you asked him why he was so insistent on doing anything and everything for you, he gave you the exact same line. either he forgot that he’s already used it once before, or he thought you were stupid enough to fall for it all over again; either way, you knew now that ‘later’ was never coming.

before you really knew what you were doing, you were back inside and weaving your way through the small huddles of your friends. a few stared as you began to tread water through the house, a long line of watery footprints following behind you on your way out. you muttered a quiet ‘i’ll see you guys later’ to whoever was listening and in one smooth motion, grabbed your bag from one of the tables and disappeared through the front door, slamming it behind you.

no one tried to stop you. probably for good reason, too, because you could feel the makeup running down your face.

the only good thing to come from looking so sad and drenched from the rain was that nobody on the street stopped to bother you either. not many people were out in this weather anyway, so at most you felt their eyes on you as they passed, a look of pity on their faces. pity for a girl all dressed up for a nice night out, just to be walking home early in tears.

you didn’t want their pity, you just wanted to go home. you wanted your bed and your pyjamas. you wanted a nice warm shower and to try and forget that today ever fucking happened.

you didn’t want joost to be chasing after you.

you didn’t want to hear your name being yelled from down the street by the one person you didn’t want to see right now.

“cmon you always do this! stop running away from everything.”

that was the thing to get you; the one thing that made you stop and turn on the spot.

“oh i’m the one running away? you’re the one that left!”

you met him halfway with steam coming out of your ears, your hands trembling and nose all scrunched up. you were fuming and it seemed as though he was now, too.

“i never went anywhere! you’re making it sound like i disappeared off the face of the earth or something.”

“well that’s what it felt like! what about that don’t you understand?”

you were each taking turns yelling now, oblivious to how loud you were actually being. people were sticking their heads out of their living room windows, morbidly curious about the scene that was unfolding right outside their homes. those that walked by did double-takes and even contemplated getting their phones out to record.

“but i’m here now! and i was ‘here’ back there and you just ran away like you always do!”

“did you really expect me to just stand there and listen to you lie again? all this ‘oh i’ll tell you later’ crap, it’s just bullshit. ever since that night you’ve been different and if what that guy did to me changed how you see me then maybe you’re right, maybe we should stop being whatever the fuck we are.”

joost physically recoiled at your words, his entire demeanour changing to one of hurt.

“what are you..? schatje no, no, it’s nothing like that. fuck, please tell me you don’t really think that.”

how could you not? it was the only thing left for you to think. it wasn’t like you wanted to come to that conclusion or that it was the first one you jumped to, but joost never gave you any other choice. as much as it hurt, it was better than simply not knowing.

something died in him when you nodded — you saw it in his eyes. tears of his own spilled down his cheeks as he rubbed his hands up and down his face, wiping his nose with the inside of his elbow.

“i…i would never; that guy…that wasn’t your fault.”

“then tell me the truth, joost.”

all that adrenaline, all that energy from before was long gone. you weren’t two people arguing in the rain, full of love and anger like something straight out of a romcom anymore. you were just two people standing out in the cold, soaked to the bone, just trying to hold on for a little while longer.

you were still waiting for joost to say something, trying to prepare yourself for the worst. if he was to say that same shit again, that he couldn’t tell you now but would later on, that would be it for you. you’d walk away and not turn back again, not for anything; just like that it would be game over.

but joost wasn’t saying anything, and you couldn’t decide if that was any better or not. he was silent as he took a couple steps towards you, the palms of his hands suddenly cupping either side of your jaw. the pads of his thumbs wiped away all the tears and rain from your eyes and tucked the odd strands of hair behind your ears. not once did he glance away from your gaze, not once did he say something.

it was driving you crazy.

“joost?” you were pleading with him now, desperate for him to say something — do something. the way he was looking at you, it was like you were the only thing he could see. “say something.”

“i love you.”

you blinked, and all of sudden you weren’t quite sure what to do with your hands anymore. it wasn’t the first time joost had said that to you because he says it to everyone, every single one of his friends. but he had never said it to you like that before, with a look in his eyes so heavy you feared that they might fall right out of his head.

“what?” your voice cracked as you spoke. “i don’t understand…what?”

“i love you. that’s what changed.”

a headache was coming, you could feel it. right behind your eyes, you felt a twinge, and then a subtle thumping that made your eyebrows twitch. you just couldn’t wrap your head around it, and the more you tried to make sense of it the more your head hurt.

“i swear to god if this is a fucking joke, if you’re just making this up -”

he shut you up with a kiss.

it wasn’t exactly for the first time or even close to being so, but it felt as though it could’ve been; all soft, gentle, careful. the hands that held either side of your face did so as though you could’ve cracked and shattered at any second. he moved slowly, almost hesitantly, until he felt you turn into mush beneath him. only then did he pull away, a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips.

but you couldn’t let him have it though, could you? couldn’t just let him have the upper hand, just like that. you had to chase it, had to pull him down to your height by the collar of his jacket until your lips could meet his. by the time you were finished, both shaking and breathless, there were faint smudges of red all across his mouth.

“that was so hot; do it again.”

you laughed at his words for not the first time tonight, but now it was only out of pure joy instead of anything else. you laughed because of how out of it joost looked now, his eyes glossed over and lips parted ever so slightly as he panted. you laughed because of how much you did want to do it again and how you felt giddy knowing that joost wanted you to do it again too.

so you did. only this time joost was ready and pounced on you hard enough to knock you back a couple of steps, almost making you slip on the wet pavement. his fingers lost themselves in your hair, gently tugging at the roots as yours gripped onto the nylon of his jacket for dear life, too afraid to let go and risk letting him slip away.

you would have stayed like that with him all night if it wasn’t for the wolf whistle you heard from one of the windows above, followed by the rumble of thunder. the rain was starting to fall harder now, the storm only growing and you didn’t like knowing that people were watching you now.

“we shouldn’t be doing this here — people are looking.”

with his forehead resting against yours, joost simply groaned as he struggled to catch his breath. his hands still cradled the back of your head and his eyes were still squeezed shut.

“don’t care. need you.”

he may as well have been one of the puddles at your feet, the way he couldn’t even form proper sentences anymore. the things you were doing to him right now were criminal, almost cruel, and you were loving every minute of it. proud of it, actually. you might have been mush in his hands, but he was like putty in yours.

“well…maybe you should take me home then, yeah? then you can need me as much as you like.”

joost groaned again, muttering something about how you were ‘going to be the death of him’, and leaned back in. from your nose to your cheeks, to your chin, every inch was peppered with very sweet, very wet kisses.

“have i told you much i love you yet?”

he had, at least a handful of times by now, but not nearly enough as you would’ve liked. so you shrugged, a shit-eating grin plastered across your face as you did so, and stepped back, lacing your fingers with his.

“it’s okay, you can tell me one more time.”

apparently that was way too far for you to go, because after one singular step you were tugged back again and kissed as though joost’s very life depended on it. ironic, considering you were certain that you were both about to be struck by lightning at any moment.

“i love you.”

you figured if that were to happen by some chance, it’d be worth it if it meant staying here with him for just a little while longer.

“i love you too.”

[watarfallar]

Is it bad that when I was walking down the street one day and saw a poppy growing out of a patch of weeds, my brain short circuited? Is that bad? Oh well, have some crumbs for your troubles.

Grian: It’s quick, it’s easy, and it’s free: pouring river water in your socks! Scar: Why would I do that? Grian: It’s quick, it’s easy, and it’s free!

Scar, texting Grian: Text me when you’re home safely. Grian: I’m home dangerously. Scar: Stop it. Grian: I’m home lethally.

Scar, trying their first ever cup of coffee: I am ENERGY! Grian, an avid coffee drinker, on their twelfth cup of the day: Someone slap me awake or I am literally going to fall into a coma in ten seconds.

Scar: Ugh, there’s always that weak bitch in the group who isn’t down with murder. Scar: glares at Grian Grian: Well, sorry I have morals!

Grian: I'm gonna need a human skull but you can't ask why. Scar: Only if you also don't ask why. Scar: pulls four pristine human skulls out of their bag Grian: … Grian, grabbing a skull: This one will do.

Grian: What is the one thing I told you not to do? Scar: Burn the house down. Grian: And what did you do? Scar: I made dinner. Grian: Scar: Grian: Scar: And burnt the house down.

Grian: Love makes people do stupid things. Scar: I love everything! Grian: That explains a lot.

Scar: What am I supposed to do? Grian: If I were you? I’d try and make peace with whatever deity, pantheon, or Divine Other you believe in. Scar: I’m an atheist. Grian: Then just get ready to die I guess.

Grian: You know what your problem is? Scar: I only have one?

Scar: Present your best argument for eating bacon. Grian: If animals don’t want to be eaten, then why are they made of food?

Scar: Isn’t it a bit dangerous? Grian: Scar, please. We’ve in a lot of unexpected predicaments before and we always escape unhurt. Scar: … Grian: Okay, we sometimes escape unhurt. Scar: … Grian: Alright, we escaped unhurt once… Then we hurt ourselves on the way home.

Scar: Hey, Grian, when you wake up you're legally obligated to agree with me. Grian: But I don't….. Scar: I don't see why that should be my problem??

Grian: There’s no “I” in team, but there is one in pizza. Scar: So, you’re not going to share? Grian: I’m not going to share.

Scar: I'm trash. Grian: As someone who's environmentally conscious, it's my duty to pick you up. Does 7 work for you? Scar: Scar: You smooth motherfucker. Scar: And yes it does.

Grian: on the phone Just snap his kneecaps and he’ll talk, I’m at a parent teacher conference. Grian: Anyways, you said Scar is enjoying finger painting! That's great.

Scar: A-are you sure this is safe?! Grian: Oh, quit being such a baby. It’s perfectly safe! …For me!

Grian: I’m Grian. I’m an accountant. Scar: I’m Scar. I have a knife.

Scar: I can’t do this, it’s against my moral compass. Grian: YOUR MORAL COMPASS IS A ROULETTE WHEEL! Scar: …Your point?

Grian: Scar, no. Scar: Scar, yes.

Scar: Do you have ANY idea what’s going on outside?! Grian: Judging by your outrage, I’d guess someone’s having fun?

Scar: Shut up, you’re messing with my train of thought! Grian: I thought you didn’t have a brain and now you say you have thoughts?

Scar: Two wrongs don’t make a right. Grian: sighs That’s true… Grian: But to negatives make a positive!!!

Grian: Have I ever told you that I love you with my whole heart? Scar: For the love of all that is holy, I am not taking you to McDonalds. It’s 2am! Grian: Mean.

Grian: Hey, about that love letter you sent me- Scar: blushes What are your thoughts? Grian: The fourth sentence- Scar: Yeah, that’s where I got really emotional and I- Grian: It’s “you’re” not “your”.

[wingedshadowfan]

this post has been met w/ a lot of support (endlessly grateful <3) but i'm aware i'm just in an echo chamber-y part of the internet bcuz i saw a video today of someone analyzing this scene in such a one-sided and way, i just had to comment on it.

they claimed:

caitlyn sees vi as lesser than: hot take lol, especially considering caitlyn is a character w/ almost no confirmation bias against zaunites however sheltered/uneducated abt their struggles she might be bcuz of her privilege. and before you pull up one of the 3 quotes you use to base that reading off of, let me debunk all of them.

her "why would i ever trust someone like you" (someone who got sentenced to 7+ years in prison as a teen with no record of their crimes and was moved to solitary confinement) which was at least partly in response to vi's own antagonistic attitude. sorry but i wouldn't trust vi either if i was alone in an unfamiliar place and situation and no one knew where i was like caitlyn was, and let's not forget caitlyn still let vi out (and fun fact she even forbid the use of that cell after she became commander) bcuz she believed she'd help her solve a crime so she did trust her and saved her ass multiple times at the expense of endangering herself

the convo with ekko where she refused to acknowledge enforcers were violent against zaunites (she obv didn't think zaunites deserved to be treated this way, quite the opposite - she didn't know this was a thing bcuz she believed enforcers were always protecting the innocent and that the world was just and beautiful aka baby's first realization she'd been brainwashed), and she still told ekko he can keep the gem if he deems fit and that the undercity needed healing (this is where vi fell in love w/ her btw)

the infamous "animals" quote: ignoring its contextuality and specifically caitlyn saying that now [that she's been personally hurt] she understands how easy it is to hate all zaunites - implying she didn't before (baby's first experience in understanding how prejudice works) and that she's battling those feelings - bcuz of the few ones who staged the attack and slaughtered a bunch of ppl, not bcuz of your average zaunite's characteristics or way of life. again, she's shown a desire to help and protect zaunites who were strangers to her multiple times before bffr.

and EVEN IF you somehow managed to prove to me that caitlyn has this insane prejudice against zaunites (which i don't believe at all), vi would still be an exception to that! caitlyn falls in love with her quickly, and wants to make it work (oil and water) despite their differences - i see no evidence in her words or behavior to believe she deems vi to be inferior to her, in fact, i believe she thinks vi is better than most, zaunites and topsiders alike

caitlyn is the one with greater capacity for violence: this is an interesting one bcuz i see how this can be true in general, but not in the breakup scene. in piltover's council room, miss decorated officer and leader of house kiramman has a greater capacity for violence against zaun through her name, privilege, money and subordinates in the form of armed enforcers invading zaun. and this is not bcuz she's more violent but bcuz she's got more resources she can take advantage of. that's... how privilege works. but in the vents, caitlyn who's almost just died again and is completely tweaking out that their mission failed, she let jinx get away, vi took the choice away from her after giving her the green light, etc, she does not have a greater capacity for violence than vi.

verbal violence: her words practically don't hurt vi at all imo (bcuz they're not jabs or insults, they're confirmed statements vi isn't ashamed of, "i thought you were different but you're not. it's her blood in your veins"), but vi's words ("what if you missed?", "then why are you the one acting like her?")? doubting/mistrusting her and comparing her to her mother's killer? that must hurt like a mf, caitlyn's arc and current mental state considered.

physical violence: caitlyn lashes out suddenly bcuz of vi pulling her back (she couldn't flee so she fought) and bcuz of vi's words. she hurts vi in the worst possible way she could've, but in any real fight, where vi would've anticipated being hit and defended herself, caitlyn would've eaten dirt. it's only circumstantial that she deals so much damage and it isn't after months of sparring with ambessa that she's able to drop vi.

violence/hurting the other wasn't the main goal of that altercation for either of them, it was something that just happened bcuz of a plethora of factors, none of which have to do with how vi and caitlyn truly feel abt each other.

caitlyn looks at vi with anger and contempt/caitlyn shoves her aside quickly, efficiently and coldly after vi did so much for her, caitlyn is brutal and cruel, leaving vi on her knees to rot in the vents: i didn't read any of her behavior that way, vi might've though - and maybe the truth is somewhere in the middle but here's what i got.

what vi did for caitlyn she did by choice and/or bcuz of guilt caitlyn isn't responsible for (i do agree caitlyn asked a lot of her but it's on vi for accepting instead of drawing boundaries). as far as i remember, caitlyn does not make eye contact with vi at all (so idk abt looking at vi with contempt lol) and i see how that can be interpreted as cold, quick and efficient. it's not. it's self preservation. it's bcuz eye contact is very important to caitlyn's character. it's how she understands and connects to people. it's safe to assume she's angry at vi but much more than that, evident in her words, she feels hurt, betrayed, disappointed and overwhelmed. she chooses not to look in vi's eyes, bcuz she wouldn't be able to bear it - she shuts herself off by choice, she doesn't want to connect in that moment, doesn't want to understand or be persuaded to stay (she knows vi has the capability of doing that), and it's not bcuz "contempt/the desire to shove her aside" are her true feelings for vi, it's bcuz caitlyn tried to remove herself from the situation but bcuz she's literally spiraling (please watch that scene again, ik caitlyn is really hard to interpret bcuz she doesn't scream, cry or blow things up, but this is her losing it in her own way), she snapped impulsively when she couldn't leave and put space between herself and vi

those are my two cents.

caitlyn grew up sheltered, she's privileged, uneducated and unaware of zaun struggles, zaun identity and generational trauma, zaun's history of oppression and piltover's of police violence. she's deeply in love with vi whom she sees as an equal (she sees all people as equals), is in the process of learning and relearning truths abt herself and the world, and in a time of immense trauma, stress and pressure, she lets her fear, anger, grief and guilt blind her to how vi really feels underneath her own guilt. she loses sight of what the right thing to do is. she commits violent acts, she makes bad choices. she's not violent or a bad person. she allows herself to be manipulated. she believes no amount of good will erase those mistakes. and she still tries to set things right and gives it her all.

some thoughts about the caitvi breakup scene

i saw ppl pointing out what looks like a tear running down caitlyn's nose after her and vi's fight w/ sevika and jinx (when she finally stops hitting the wall w/ her rifle and puts her forehead to it) and it could've been just sweat, but here's why i think it wasn't:

it's bcuz vi took the choice away from her.

we all know caitlyn's parents had been keeping her in a gilded cage since she was a child. we see this symbolically in her conversation with jayce when he gets kicked out of the academy after the explosion - he's outside in the rain, but she's within the gates of the kiramman estate, under an umbrella, protected, hidden. she tells him her parents don't allow her to talk to him anymore but she doesn't care. they're friends.

we know cassandra didn't approve of caitlyn's choice to become an enforcer either (we assume caitlyn had to fight for it and her family tried to stop her). even after that "win", her mother kept meddling and made sure caitlyn would always get safer tasks - out of harm's way and where she'd never be able to prove herself or do any actual good like she'd always wanted. her own coworkers make fun of her for being a kiramman and only "playing dress up" as an enforcer - a job she decided she wanted and had been working towards since she was a child, in order to help and protect people. she'd had to fight (not for the first time) to be placed on a case, in a real guard position, to be taken seriously.

caitlyn's choice and her agency - things she's barely been given in her own life, because of her parents, her name and how sheltered she'd grown up - she'd always had to fight for. she's had to fight to be able to choose, she's had to fight to defend her choices, and she's had to fight to prove herself over and over again.

then for the first time in her life, she didn't have to fight because vi (perhaps being swallowed by her own guilt for everything jinx had done to caitlyn) gave caitlyn the ability to choose what happens to jinx. unconditionally.

and caitlyn chose. vi agreed with her choice.

take the shot.

then vi took the choice away from her in the last possible moment, physically stopping her from shooting. (now, we can talk abt what that means to someone who's never been the stronger opponent in any physical altercation they've been a part of so far, but i won't)

this is the real reason caitlyn completely disassociates shuts down, not to mention the adrenaline after almost dying again bcuz sevika wasn't playing. caitlyn goes all out hitting the wall, lets out a single tear, refuses to look vi in the eyes and tells her, "i thought you were different but you're not"

she's yet another person who denies caitlyn the ability to make a choice in her life.

it's her blood in your veins.

vi's loyalties lie with the blood of someone who'd worked for silco in oppressing the undercity, lured and blown up caitlyn's coworkers, tried to kill caitlyn (and vi) multiple times, kidnapped her from her fucking bathroom, dressed her up against her will, kept her hostage for a full day in which she with almost 100% certainty tortured her, kept her as the only person gagged throughout the tea party, asked vi to kill her, then blew her mother up along with 4 more counselors and (allegedly) attacked their memorial. talk abt taking someone's freedom of choice away.

then why are you the one acting like her?

vi - not fully without reason - compares caitlyn to her worst fucking nightmare. a psychotic killer who's caused so much fear and trauma to caitlyn that she admitted jinx's smile is all she sees when she closes her eyes, up there w/ her own mother's lifeless eyes?? and yeah, vi has a point - caitlyn had indeed grown more violent and aggressive in her desparate pursuit for revenge. that doesn't mean it hurts caitlyn any less, especially when she'd been trying so hard to do the right thing (sending a squad to catch jinx instead of a full blown armed invasion, only her and vi having hextech, clearing the streets first), and vi knows this: she just automatically did what she does best - aimed for where it hurts the most. i think she even realizes she's overstepped but before she can do anything about it, caitlyn bites back reflexively and hits her with her rifle. there, in the place of the wound she once took care of herself.

the perfect storm.

the only question i have left is why everyone in this fandom keeps acting like caitlyn is the only one who hurt someone and vi is the only one who got hurt in that scene.

[magics-neptunes-things]

Mockingjay - Part 14

Hi guys!

We are at the end of this story... And this is the sad ending of it. There will have another part, were you can read an happy ending, coming in like one hour. Don't hesitate to tell me which one you enjoy the most!

And thank again for the amount of love, encouragement and everything I had during this story. It wasn't always easy to write it to be honest, it was an heavy one. But i liked it anyway.

Lot of love ♥

TW : Death, fight, angst, no happy ending, blood

Chapter Before

As they both are talking and fighting, neither Ona nor Tony sees the shape of the person coming next to them. Panting, the silhouette takes some time to take their breath. The fight was hard, as expected. Both Lucy and Kayla come from career districts, they both learned how to fight during their childhood and were almost prepared for the Games.

“Lucy won’t let anything happen to me” Ona states confidently.

She’s sure about what she’s saying, everyone can see it in her eyes. Ona doesn’t blink when she looks at Tony, who seems almost amused by her.

“Do you think so? I don’t see her here for now” he laughs softly.

His laugh is empty, without any fun. He looks like a psychopath in Ona’s mind, but she thinks it’s maybe better not to push him further. He seems close to a mental breakdown.

His hand is shaking when he raises it, showing his sword near Ona’s throat. Ona flinches but doesn’t try to back off. She doesn’t want him to think that he has any power over her.

“I could kill you, right now. She wouldn’t be able to do anything against it.”

He seems so sure of himself, looking at her from above, his smirks talking for him. But Ona has never had so little respect for him since the beginning. The brunette doesn’t even want to fight against him, he’s here standing while she’s sitting on the ground. How can someone’s ego be like this?

“Do you really think so?”

Tony turns around to face the person who just talked and Ona jumps on her feet when she sees them. It’s Lucy. Tony just has time to turn around before being hit right in the face. He falls somewhere near Ona, making her fall back with him.

Ona groans when she hits her head on a tree root, right where she was already hurt. She tries to get away from Tony as fast as possible, but the boy is grabbing her legs for his dear life, trying to drag her to him. But he’s less strong with his arms than he was at the beginning, Ona hurt him there before, and she knows it.

She manages to kick him in the chin, making him go back. Ona goes back on all four, standing again when she thinks that she’s away enough from Tony. He’s bleeding from his mouth and Ona deduces that he might have bitten his tongue.

Just when he was going to jump on Ona, Lucy grabs him by the collar of his jacket.

“Don’t even think about it” she groans, pushing him away.

Lucy is smaller, but Ona has to say that with her anger and the hammer in her hand… She looks impressive. Her green eyes stay on Tony, even when she throws the bow and the arrows at Ona.

But Tony just sneers, arming his hand and his sword before talking again.

“I don’t have any problem to kill you before killing her”

“Aren’t you sick of hearing you?” Lucy snaps.

Ona sees Tony’s face becoming darker, clearly not liking Lucy’s comment. Ona can’t help but smile at Lucy’s comment, the sarcasm of the girl always making her smile. She takes advantage of this little moment to have a better look at her girlfriend. She has blood on her body but doesn’t really seem hurt. She has some cuts on her arms, but nothing seems really bad.

“I’m sick of you” he answers.

Lucy snorts this time, waiting for him to attack first. He’s turning his back to Ona and the younger girl wonders if she should take advantage of it, but it seems to her that Lucy wants to defeat Tony alone. She has something to deal with, beginning with the fact that Tony seems to want what is hers.

The fight starts and is maybe not really fair, Tony has a sword which is longer than Lucy’s hammer, in addition to the fact that he’s bigger and then has bigger movements. But Lucy still manages to hit him several times, using her smaller form to move faster than him.

That was until…

“Wolves!”

Ona scream is a little bit ignored by the two others to be honest, until Lucy spots the urgence in Ona’s voice when she talks again.

“Lucy! Wolves!”

Lucy turns to the direction Ona is pointing, before groaning when Tony takes advantage of it to hit her on the arm. Lucy groans in pain and almost throws her hammer on Tony’s face, helped by the rush of adrenaline.

Just like Ona, she saw the four wolves walking in their direction, in the form of a diamond. They are white and she would probably have found them beautiful if they weren’t explicitly looking for their next meal.

Ona is fully concentrated on the animals, forgetting Tony for several seconds.

Wrong move.

The boy, seeing Ona not far from him, raises his sword once again and hits her right in her stomach. The pain is so intense that Ona isn’t able to say anything. It’s Lucy who screams something that the brunette isn’t able to understand.

She feels someone grabbing her and holding her protectively against their breast, before the person starts to run. Ona doesn’t need a lot of time to recognize Lucy.

“It’s okay, you will be okay” Lucy keeps saying.

Ona doesn’t really understand what is happening when she feels herself being shaken. But she trusts Lucy and if she says that she will be okay, she knows that she will be. It’s only the sound of the canon who makes her open her eyes again.

Her vision is gloomy, but she still can see Lucy’s face right above her very clearly.

“Is he…” she whispers.

“Dead. The wolves…”

Lucy stops her sentence, but she doesn’t have to talk more for Ona to understand. She’s glad that the animals chose the one of the three who will give them the most fresh meat.

“I’m so cold” Ona whispers again.

And it looks like it’s starting to rain. She feels one or two drops of water on her face, seeming strangely hot against her cold skin. But when she looks at Lucy again, she understands. It’s not raining. Lucy is crying.

“I’m dying”

She can only whisper for now, her strength just not here anymore. Lucy shakes her head, but Ona isn’t sure if it’s because she’s answering her that she isn’t, or if Lucy just couldn’t stand the idea.

“It’s okay” Ona whispers. “We are going to be okay”

She concentrates all of her strength to raise her hand and softly strokes Lucy’s face.

Lucy sighs softly when the sun strokes her face softly, sneaking between the blinds she hadn’t correctly closed last night. The sun is not something usual at this part of the year here, but today is a special day. It’s Ona’s birthday.

It has always been a shining day, just like if her dead girlfriend keeps sending her sign, saying that she’s still here. Just like she promised her before dying in the arena, seven years ago.

Lucy rolls on her belly, hiding her face in a pillow. She hates those days, but somehow it makes her heart flutter to see how many people still have clear memories of Ona. And she loves the idea that she isn’t the only one to celebrate with her despite everything.

Lucy just had the time to take a shower and get dressed before someone knocks on the door of her house. But Lucy smiles softly, knowing perfectly who it is. When she opens the door, a small silhouette jumps in her legs and Lucy takes the small girl from the ground to cuddle her.

Laia, Joan and Aitana’s daughter, is Ona’s certified copy. She has the same smile, the same cheeky grin and the same big doe eyes.

After the Games, Lucy made the decision not to come back to her District, but to come leave with Ona’s family instead. She got the Batlle’s approval before coming here, of course. It made several adjustments with the Capitol, but they finally agreed to give her a house in the victory quarter of the 8 and not the 4.

Then she gave the house to Joan and Aitana, choosing to live in Ona’s former flat. It’s maybe not the healthiest way to live her grief and mourn her girlfriend, but like she told her parents, she’s old enough to know what she wants to do.

The Batlle never judged her. They welcomed her into their family, making her feel really integrated in a family for the first time in her life. They maybe aren’t her blood family, but they are her chosen one and she would give them everything.

When Ona’s mother started to call her “Mija”, she understood clearly that the things were reciprocated.

“How are you?” Aitana asks Lucy, hugging her when her daughter finally agrees to go back on the ground.

Lucy just shrugs before accepting Joan’s hug. They are supposed to be at the train station in twenty minutes, to greet Alexia’s family. Like every year, Alexia and Olga are coming here to be with Lucy and the Batlle.

This year they will be here with a new addition though. They welcomed a little girl less than one year ago.

Keeping her promise, Alexia named her Ona.

“Tia I’m hungry”

Lucy looks back at her niece, who crossed her arm on her chest with her signature pout on her face. Lucy feels her heart clenched when she sees one more time a perfect copy of Ona.

“Didn’t you have breakfast?” Lucy smiles at the little girl.

She retains a bigger smile when she sees the girl looking guilty at her parents before answering. She knows that look too.

“Sí… But I’d like a mince pie, please”

“Of course” Lucy laughs softly. “Can I?” she asks Joan.

He nods softly and Lucy leaves for her kitchen to grab what to please her niece. This is something Lucy likes to cook from time to time and Laia loves them. Lucy always has at least one for Laia, no matter what. She still hears Aitana talking while rummaging in her cupboard.

“You can eat it while we are going to the train station, okay? Otherwise, we’ll be late”

The walk to the train station is pretty quiet from Lucy’s side, but the attention of the others is taken by Laia who is happily walking and running around. Ona’s parents join them at some point, and they all walk together to get to Alexia and Olga.

At some point, Ona’s mother grabs Lucy’s arm to link them together. They don’t have to talk, just an exchange of regards makes them understand each other. It is sometimes strange for Lucy to see that another woman understands her easier than her mother ever did.

Lucy misses her niece and her nephew, and she goes from time to time to District 4 to see them, but that's all. Going back there is very difficult for her, every time it’s like she’s separated from Ona once again.

“The train’s coming!” Laia says, pointing at it.

The four-year-old doesn’t wait for anything or anyone before starting to run towards the train.

“Laia don’t run there!”

Joan’s voice is audible by far without any doubt, but Aitana grabs his arm.

“It’s okay. She’s safe” she points out.

“But the train…”

“She’s safe.”

The married couple look at each other before Joan sighs. No one around says anything else, but Lucy understands perfectly. Joan lost her little sister; she was one of the most important people in his life. He might be dead afraid for her daughter, wondering how he can protect her from finding herself in the arena too.

They finally arrive at the train station, catching Laia who is jumping on her feet, waiting for the three people to get out of it.

Lucy can’t help but smile softly when she sees the small baby in Olga’s arms. She knows the two girls perfectly now. She saw her a lot during those last years and Alexia wrote to her every month to exchange news.

She heard a lot about Alexia thanks to Ona, and when Lucy got out of the arena winning, Alexia reached her very quickly. Alexia was devastated to have lost Ona, but she never blamed Lucy for anything. Just like the others finally.

Lucy hates it.

She would like someone who thinks like her. She doesn’t know why she need someone to blame her for Ona’s death, but the understanding and the care she received from anyone is making everything more painful.

Everyone coos while seeing the baby, who seems to have blond hair and light eyes, just like Alexia. To be fair, it’s a very beautiful baby.

“Do you want to hold her?” Alexia asks Lucy.

“Oh… I don’t know” Lucy mumbles.

“Here, take her”

Lucy mumbles something more, but Alexia ignores it prodigiously and softly puts her daughter in Lucy’s arms. The baby is looking at her already when Lucy puts her eyes on her.

A new life, an innocent one that she has to protect too, at any cost.

Like every other year, they went to Ona’s memorial together, putting Ona’s favourite flowers on her statue’s feet. And like every year, Lucy remembers Ona's last words.

“Just live your life. I’ll be waiting for you, wherever I am. Wherever you are.”

She still can hear Ona’s voice perfectly. She’s glad that with time neither her voice nor her face is blurred. She wouldn’t have stood it.

Lucy lost herself in the contemplation of the statue, Ona’s life froze in time. The statue was made by the most talented person in the Capitol, it is really similar to Ona. The colour has been perfectly chosen, whether it’s the colour of her skin, eyes or hair. But Lucy misses her laugh, the warmth of her skin and the wrinkles in the corner of her eyes when she smiles.

“We’re going back, Luce” Ona’s dad says softly.

Lucy turns away from the statue to look at her father-in-law. He has a soft smile and Lucy realises that Olga is just behind him. Lucy nods at him and she needs two seconds to understand why Olga is taking steps to approach her.

She still has Baby Ona in her arms, having cradled her almost unconsciously all this time. The little girl finally falls asleep, feeling easily confident in Lucy’s arms.

“Can I have her back?” Olga smiles.

“Of course! I just… Here” she mumbles, passing carefully the baby in her Mama’s arms.

She misses the warmth of this tiny human against her chest almost immediately. Olga smiles at her a last time and Ona’s father taps her shoulder two times before going to find the others.

“I’m coming. I just…”

“It’s okay. We know.”

Lucy nods and turns to face the statue again. Of course, they understand. It’s the same thing every year. They come together, they spend some time here together. Then everyone leaves except Lucy to go to Joan’s house, where Ona’s mother cooks Ona’s favourite meals. All together.

Alexia was here last year too, 8 months and a half pregnant. Lucy was almost sure that she would give birth on the train back home, but it wasn’t the case.

Lucy always needs alone time here and the others understand perfectly. They never know her when she was younger, those days in the arena changed her a lot. She’s not really smiling anymore, unless she is with Laia. She’s not really talkative either. She’s just here, seeming lost and sometimes so broken inside that the Batlle hate how they are helpless facing the pain of the woman who loved their daughter so much.

“I’m still waiting for you to come and get me” Lucy mumbles to the statue. “It’s been seven years, Ona.”

She’s now sitting on the ground, her knees pressed against her chest and her arms around them.

She doesn’t know where they would've been if Ona was still alive, but to be honest Lucy never asked herself this kind of question. It hurts too much. She doesn’t have any plan, any project now. She just waits.

The amount of money she has every year for being the winner of her Games is enough for her to live. She pays for her apartment; she works with her parents-in-law and uses the rest to buy presents for Laia or the others. The Batlle probably have the most well decorated houses around.

She knows Jana’s family too and she’s kind of friends with Jana’s sister. It’s a strange friendship to be honest, but Bruna is a nice girl. And just like her, she lost someone she loved deeply because of the Games. It makes it easier for them to understand each other.

“If you need me, you just have to look at the sky. I’ll always be here”

It was strange that it was Ona who needed to comfort Lucy when she was the one dying. But with this sentence she keeps looking at the sky. She sees Ona in every star, every planet, every rainbow, every sunset or every dawn.

“You are the best thing that ever happens to me”

Ona was the best thing in Lucy’s life too, so how is she supposed to feel like breathing correctly when Ona isn’t here anymore. It just doesn’t make any sense for Lucy. She was her everything. Now she just has nothing left.

If the Batlle hadn’t taken her in as one of their own, Lucy is certain that she would have given up a long time ago.

Watching Ona’s eyes slowly fade while she kept saying how much she loves her is still something very vivid in Lucy’s mind. She’s glad to have been able to say all those things to Ona, but she would rather be able to tell them again.

Soon, she hopes.

Because there is no world where she could forget Ona, even if she wanted to.

The Happy Ending

[narcjsistx]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 | OS

karasu tabito x fem reader ; words: 1.9k (1939)

coming from this event, fifth day, 22/12

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

plot: the pact had been clear from the beginning: only needy kisses when the situation called for it, but no relationships. everything had been going smoothly up until that point, but the main problem was that now you were falling for your enemy's best friend. does tabito not want relationships because he doesn't want to set up seriously or just because he's afraid of ruining everything by being mediocre?

Even though you are literally in each other's arms, you feel Karasu light years away from you. The grip he had on your hips a few seconds ago has suddenly diminished, remaining sloppily leaning but not holding them. It took just a few words to destroy the perfect harmony that has existed between you since this strange situation began, and you don't know whether to regret having said them or to still be as convinced as you were until recently. You just know that, now, Karasu is not the same one who was kissing you until a moment ago, with the same usual sweetness

"We should stop. I'm starting to develop feelings for you and I don't want to suffer through something like this"

Words spoken in one breath, but which contained everything, or more, that you felt for the boy who until today has always been your kisser. You said that you started, and not that for months now you have thought only and exclusively of him, that you dream of being able to have a relationship with him, that you would simply like to stop being an ordinary girl and become his girlfriend. But what you dreamed of didn't fit your plan, the one that until now had given you the chance to be so close to him. The plan was simple: just kisses, maybe sooner or later a sexual relationship if you both agreed, but never and ever a relationship

Yet, it seemed so easy to fall in love with him. Karasu is polite, he knows how to joke without being offensive, he has a hobby that he is committed to and has many friends who love him, and he also knows how to treat women. It was impossible for you to understand how a boy like that is best friends with Otoya Eita, the same boy who broke your heart after a relationship that lasted no more than two weeks. You could easily say that the hatred you felt for the ninja turned into love when it came to Tabito.

It all started with this pretext: help me make Otoya regret leaving me, make him understand that I am the best girl he could spend his life with. Betting on his best friend had been a risky choice, but Karasu had accepted. And so, in front of the white and green haired boy, the kisses between you and Karasu had begun their battle against him, who frankly had never paid much attention to you two, only surprised to see Karasu with someone after long time since last time

Almost everyone, even his friends, thought you were a couple. But you both said no, you were just young and a relationship would only hinder the beautiful bond you had. Yet, your goal of making Otoya jealous had turned into nothing in less than a few weeks, while you began to reflect that Karasu was actually a good guy. That, besides the kisses, he also treated you well, and he didn't have the same behavior with girls as he had with you

And so, for a year now, you had begun to think that you loved him seriously, that kisses were not enough for you. It had taken you a year to say the words you had just said to him, and yet you had already regretted it. His face conveyed an all too obvious surprise, untypical for someone like him

"I know you don't want a relationship, so let's end this. It was fun"

You knew he didn't want a relationship, he had made it clear from the start. You had talked about it other times, and his words were always the same. They hurt you, but they were reality

"I don't want a relationship, it would hinder me and my future career as a striker. Professional players never have a steady relationship until they reach an important goal, and I will do the same. After I win, I will look for someone to spend the rest of my life with. But it's not that time yet"

Your heart hurt, your body, everything. It hurt to think that from now on, you would do without him, without his lips on yours and without the good feeling that always existed in your stomach when you knew he was looking at you. You were letting go of something you loved so much, but you knew that by doing so, maybe you would save yourself more future pain

"Are you kidding me?"

"No. It's all over, I don't want anymore"

You didn't know why he didn't want a relationship, or rather, the explanation he had given you so long ago didn't seem entirely right. Karasu, in your eyes, seemed like someone who needed love so much, who even sought it, but why did he reject it if he had plenty of it, of yours, under his hands?

There was something that told you that he was rejecting love because of a more personal fear, because of something that you had always had before your eyes but had never understood. Something that, you thought, made him very insecure. But what was this insecurity of his if he was so perfect? What he was hiding from you?

Slowly, you pulled away from his grip, which no longer held you to him. Your lowered gaze helped you not to look him in the eyes, because seeing even a shred of sadness would have destroyed you. It was the best choice, but why did it hurt?

"You can't be serious, everything is going great"

"It's precisely because everything is going well that I want to stop. Karasu, I think I seriously love you, kisses are no longer enough for me. But at the same time, I know you don't want a relationship, and I don't want to force you to have one with me. If everything continues to go so well in my mind we will be like boyfriend and girlfriend, while you will continue to think of us as just two friends. And I will suffer from this, because I know myself"

You had to be harsh with your words, even if you didn't really want to be, and especially not with him, who hadn't actually done anything to you. But if you weren't, it would have been even worse

He didn't want a relationship. He didn't want a relationship. He didn't want a relationship

But really, why?

"You can't just go away and break everything. Don't you think about me?"

Karasu has never been someone who blames things, he has always admitted that he hates those who do it, because he thinks they are mediocre, and he hates mediocre people

"Yes, and it's better for both"

"You don't know what's fucking best for me..."

"Instead, yes. Think of it as if our relationship was a test for what you will have with your future girlfriend"

"I don't even want to think about anyone else other than you"

Karasu wasn't the type to say things like that, especially things that sounded like a declaration of love, and hell, it seemed like one to you. Why did he just say those words if he always reminded you that he doesn't want to think about anything but his career? Is there seriously something he's hiding from you that goes beyond the simple justification he's always given you?

"If you don't think I know what's best for you, tell me. What's best for you, Tabito?"

Maybe you had crossed the line, just maybe

"The best thing for me is to believe that I am enough for you, but I can't be if I am so disgustingly mediocre. Giving you something mediocre, being yours, is something that bothers me, because I never want to see you with something or someone who is not on your level. The thought of you walking away suffocates me, but I know that sooner or later you would realize how much I am not enough. I don't want you Y/n, even if I really do, because you don't deserve shit. Why did you fall in love with someone like me instead, so mediocre?"

So there was actually something in Karasu's thoughts, something that you actually didn't even remotely expect: how could he, so perfect in your eyes, consider himself mediocre?. The excuse of his career was therefore evidently just a bullshit to hide this more intimate side of his, who had fought so hard to hide it from your eyes, who instead saw it with an inhuman perfection

"Mediocre things don't work, they don't make things enjoyable. Settling is not love, and putting yourself in a situation like that would destroy me. I would ruin everything sooner or later, trust me"

You wanted to shut him up, you seriously wanted to. Hearing him talk so badly about himself hurt your heart, since you didn't even remotely have these thoughts about him. Never ever, in your thoughts, had you imagined him ruining everything, he who in situations always tried to resolve in the best possible way. Maybe he wasn't aware of how great it was, how 'mediocre' was the last word in the world to describe it. Maybe he was genuinely insecure about something that didn't actually exist, but was just in his head for some unknown reason

"If you consider me enough for everything, how do you explain the thing that I fell in love with you, that instead you consider yourself mediocre? Don't you think that I fell in love because you are so perfect in my eyes that I don't understand your doubts? Karasu, you have no idea how much you are not even remotely wrong, you are anything but wrong. Falling in love with someone so perfect, who knows how to love but is afraid, is I think one of the most intelligent things I have ever done, and you know that I have done a lot of stupid things in life. But I want to make you aware of how much you are enough, much more than enough. For me you know how to love, you want someone who loves you, but you are afraid. I want to take away this fear from you"

Silently, you had unmasked the mask that Karasu Tabito had so glued to his face: under that self-confident, sometimes even selfish face, there was a boy who was extremely insecure about himself, who was just waiting for someone who could love him without fear of his insecurities. You had destabilized him with your words, you could see it from the way he was slowly destroying himself. Your words were true, and you hoped that by destroying himself he would understand that you meant them

"Suppose I accept your love. Suddenly I do something, I ruin everything"

"I'll try to love you again until everything works perfectly. And in the meantime you learn where you went wrong and you don't do it again, because I know you can do it. To err is human"

You wanted to love him, you wanted him to love himself. And if trying again with him every time meant making him realize that he wasn't as shit as he said he was, you would try again and again

Mediocre was his fear, not he. A human mediocrity, because in reality everyone has fears of this kind; you had some too

"Let yourself be loved, Karasu. Let your dream come true, because I never want to see you sad about something like that"

"If I make a mistake, will you try again? Shall we try again?"

"Until my last breath"

TAG: @natmagaesp ; @kittenish0 ; @x3nafix

[amphitriteswife]

Keep quiet

Warnings: NSFW content it’s my first so its bad

Pairing: DG x fem! Reader

Summary: a pool party is too boring for you. Especially when it’s all just about DG…so why not spice it up a little?

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DG often hosts parties, they’re always limited, luxurious and lavish events. You usually complained to DG that you disliked the parties, often it was only all about it. His friends. Many influencers and models. The party was held on the top of his entertainment building, which he ofcourse owned. What doesn’t he own at this point? Once again you found yourself at the edge of the pool, bored out of your mind while DG talked to Daniel about something that ‘didn’t concern you’. What a dickhead. But to make it up to you he promised to let you have a little ‘control’ over him. Hence the reason for the remote in your hand. DG is confident and aloof. He can take a lot. Can’t he? He is THE DG after all…

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You watched DG from afar, many people were busy getting a drink at the bar. They were having fun dancing and ordering, it was all free and fun since DG was paying for it so who wouldn’t let this opportunity go to waste? Because of so many people put of the way you had a clear view of DG talking to Daniel. He wore a skimpy short and some slippers, as well as a shirt that he didn’t bother to button up. You could see the serious expression om his face as if he was talking about something rather serious. which made this all so much more fun…So serious and aloof. Just typical DG….why not take things further? He didn’t even seem to be bothered by the thing in his pants. How annoying!…it wouldn’t hurt to mess with him for a little right? Your finger lightly brushing over the buttons on the remote. Decideing to go easy on him, you pressed only on level 2. Shouldn’t be so hard right? You would be proven wrong when you see DG almost spit pit his cocktail. His reaction made Daniel rather startled and worried. But DG is no weak man, he simply put up his hand as a sign that he was fine and cleared his throat. Ofcourse the murderous glare he gave you didn’t go unnoticed by the either of you.

Standing up from the edge of the pool, you made your way to the pair, introducing yourself to Daniel and sitting on the pink couch DG was sitting on, he didn’t bother to put a hand around you. Too focused on swirling his straw in the cocktail and trying his best to ignore the vibration against his prostate. You could hear his breath hitch when you gave him a playful push. ‘Watch it.’ He told you sternly. His eyes trying to focus more on his cocktail and trying to not listen to the soft ‘vrrrr’ in his pants. The discomfort of not making any sounds made him move his legs. He could feel the blood rushing to his abdomen. The slight sensation of electricity shooting trough his spine which made him shiver. The feeling of his already short swimming trunks becoming even more tight. He surpresed the feeling by giving Daniel a sweet smile, although it was clear it wasn’t genuine. Even Daniel figured as much, which made Daniel think that he said something to offend him and apologized. DG smiled ever so sweetly, yet you knew he was getting way more irritated. The slight movement of his jaw clenching, his brows ever so furrowed and the way he gulped more than usual, all signs that he wanted you to stop. But…

DG having satisfaction? That’s no fun. So you why not put the vibrator up to another level? The sudden increase in vibrations made DG bite down a grunt, he spoke in a more strained voice to Daniel who was very v unsure of what was going on. DG clenched his legs together, the sound becoming a little more clouded, but still noticeable. The sudden tent in DG’s pants also made him hitch, his hand quickly covering his crotch. He still remained smiling to Daniel softly clearing his throat, yet his mind was practically screaming and begging you to help him out. The veins in his neck were on the verge of busting, and so was he. In one desperate attempt to cover himself up from the massive print in his swimming trunks he pulled you closer to him, half off your body covering him. He nuzzled into your neck while Daniel talked to him about someone called James Lee. It made you a little curious to who that was and if he was cute. DG on the other hand was heavily breathing next to your ear.

‘You have no fucking idea what you’re doing.’ DG practically hissed to you, despite his smile, you could see the frustration in his eyes. He hates it, but you’re his girlfriend. And he owns you after being too bust the lasts weeks. Hence why he is letting you do this. He shifts you around, letting you sit on his clothed erection. Damn it why are you like this? He’s busy and you’re over here making him hard! He kept you in place by holding you by your hips. Daniel seemed very friendly and offered to get a drink for you at the bar since he was heading there anyway. Which probably wasn’t true. He could feel that DG was quite…angry with you and he didn’t want to be in the crossfire. DG watched Daniel walk to the bar with a smile, the same fake smile he always gives someone. After Daniel was out of sight his smile dropped and turned his head to look at you. ‘Care to explain?’ The question sounded more like a demand. And it wasn’t with his silky idol voice either. ‘Explain what?’ You asked him with fake laced innocence. Your voice made him furrow his brow and scoff at you. Excuse him? Who is he to scoff at you? You’re the one with the power here! You ‘hmphed’ at him and switched the vibrator to a higher level. This earned a soft unexpected moan to escape DG which he tried to cover up with coughs. His prostate pressed more against you. He groaned. His voice hoarse and panting. The sudden hug from him made you stiffen. ‘What’s up with you?’ You felt his head on your shoulder and his arms wrapping around your form, his legs bouncing you slightly in his lap. He picked up the pace and after a while stopped, panting even harder than before. ‘What are you-’ you could feel the wetness creeping on your own clothes, your eyes darting down to see the wet spot in DG’s pants.

[starburstminibot]

Hey I loved your explanation of breakdowns development with bumblebee! I was wondering what bumblebee was thinking at the same time though? Like while he was carrying??

I love this AU though!! It’s the only thing I’ve been thinking about! 😩😩💗

It wasn’t easy for Bee either lemme tell you…

Bumblebee has the capabilities of seeing good in everyone… and he is very aware of how vulnerable it can make him. He’s been manipulated before, he’s been taken advantage of due to his child-like optimism. He’s been… hardened to a degree because of it. He’s not a young naive scout anymore. He still likes to see the good, but he’s much more cautious of letting that blind him to the reality.

Except everything goes out the window when it comes to Breakdown.

Bumblebee doesn’t know why. Maybe it’s because they were friends before the war, maybe it’s because despite everything Breakdown’s never really done anything to hurt him (at least intentionally)

Bumblebee is more aware than anyone how vulnerable he leaves himself by trusting Breakdown so wholeheartedly.

He knows how quickly Breakdown could give him a false tip and lure him right into a trap. And yet Bee would still take his words and trust them like the gospel.

Maybe it’s because he doesn’t value his life quite as much as he should. He doesn’t want to die… but he’s been in the trenches of a war far longer than he ever experienced living at peace (if that’s what you would call the civil unrest that was slowly tipping into war by the time he came online) he’s a bit desensitized to the extinguishing of a spark.

He knows the dangers of getting too close to anyone when you could lose them at any moment. Of course, he’s always been a friendly bot. Most Autobots favor him kindly and he always enjoys other’s company. But he doesn’t stick around long enough to actually get close. He’s a scout. Traveling across Cybertron, sneaking past enemy lines. He’s alone more than not. Perhaps the only true companion he has was the bot always checking in on him at the end of the mission, the one giving him the next orders, and seeking his unlikely advice. It was easier to get close to Optimus… he was less likely to get blown up in a random firefight and never come back.

Which only made his attraction to Breakdown more confusing. Breakdown was everything that Bumblebee tried to avoid: Reckless, foolish, thrill-seeking. Breakdown threw himself into fights he wasn’t likely to win for fun. Breakdown didn’t value his life quite as much as he should either.

They both were willing to gamble everything because neither of them had anything to lose. And that just made whatever they had that much more exciting

They didn’t see each other often. Years would pass before they could catch a glimpse of the other. It didn’t matter how long it had been… how many friends the other had lost… it was like their unspoken connection was the only true consistency in their lives. Sometimes Breakdown would give Bee information. Other times they would just play cards or race. Sometimes they wouldn’t have a chance to talk at all, being in the heat of battle surrounded by other bots.

They got pretty good at pulling punches and staging fights.

And then the war “ended” and Breakdown was nowhere to be found. Bumblebee would be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed. He should have known better… of course Breakdown would have run, all the Decepticons did. And Breakdown was still a decepticon.

He’s pretty confident Optimus knows about their friendship at this point… or at least has his suspicions. But Optimus had also pardoned the ex-leader of the Decepticons so Bumblebee doesn’t think he has much room to judge.

Being sent undercover for over a decade wasn’t the post-war future Bumblebee had planned for himself. He hadn’t envisioned it would take place on an alien organic planet either. He could still remember a time when he dreamed of retirement and maybe he’d take up a “normal” job like the ones Ironhide used to talk about. He always wondered if he’d be good at something more domestic… if maybe he would have an apartment of his own to return to each night instead of recharging at whatever outpost was closest after days without rest.

Now he views those as delusional fantasies. He’s not really sure who he is outside of his title of Autobot spy. He doesn’t think he can be anything besides a soldier. (A hero… according to some people)

He wasn’t sure if it was boredom that triggered his search for Breakdown or if maybe he was just looking for some kind of company (he was used to solitude but it had just been… so long) but somehow he ended up at nearly every race he caught wind of. It wasn’t desperation, certainly not… he just… had a lot of free time is all.

He got close a couple of times. Breakdown was changing his alt mode regularly, Bee was sure of it. But still every so often he’d catch a streak of blue and white. Breakdown had always been faster than him…

Bee considered himself great at adapting to any environment or situation that he would land himself in, but nothing could have prepared him for his latest assignment… Sparklingsitting…

Why Optimus had pulled him out of 15 years of hiding for something so… mundane? Bee could only begin to question. He was convinced it was a waste of time. Bee didn’t know the first thing about younglings, there hadn’t been any since… well… him. And that was a very long time ago.

But after a while he hated to admit he found them… endearing. It was almost nice… it felt like what he used to imagine a peaceful life would be like when he was still naive enough to think true peace was achievable.

And yet… something was still missing.

Bee assumed it was the thrill of the missions he longed for. Considering Optimus was dead-set on sidelining him… Bee decided to resume one of his personal missions…

And thats when he finally reunited with the only bot he could ever consider his best friend. They had been apart for longer periods before… but somehow this felt different. This could be a new start. The war was over.

And then he lost Breakdown again.

To the same humans to claimed to be their allies no less.

He didn’t care how it must’ve looked when he demanded Optimus give him a status report on Breakdown’s condition when he was brought in.

Bee only got a lecture on how he was cutting it too close by getting involved with a race he knew G.H.O.S.T. was planning to bust.

So no, he didn’t really care what Optimus would think when he broke Breakdown out of prison. And he was only slightly hurt when Breakdown drove off ignoring his pleas of assistance. It wasn’t Breakdown’s fight… he had no right to be upset.

Of course Breakdown came through in the end… he always has.

And so what if they started meeting up periodically to race and talk and forget about everything else for s little while. Even if the times Bee had fallen into recharge in his arms and woken up alone hurt more than he’d like to admit.

Breakdown was quick to remind him, they were still on opposite sided. They could still betray each other in a moments notice… they both still had nothing to lose.

Except… that wasn’t quite true anymore.

Bee was carrying.

At first he didn’t do anything about it. Didn’t tell anyone. Didn’t even act like anything was different. A reaction he would later clarify was shock.

Then came the avoidance. The ticking time bomb until he had to do something about it was like a constant countdown in his head. He started seeking distractions. Lessons with the Terrans. Missions with Arcee. Drives with Breakdown. Anything to avoid thinking about the decisions he would need to make in the future. The very rapidly approaching future.

Breakdown was the first to know.

Looking back, Bee wished he had been able to break the news a little differently. He hadn’t intended to tell him that night at all… he wasn’t sure if he was ever planning on telling him period.

The reality of a sparkling was beginning to hit and for the first time in his life… Bumblebee couldn’t put himself at risk anymore.

And Breakdown was a risk.

It was supposed to be their last time… a chance to say goodbye, even if Breakdown didn’t know it. Instead in a moment of emotion, Bee accidentally let it slip.

He wasn’t expecting Breakdown to choose the path of caution too. To desperately pledge to stay by his side. To stop taking risks… to stop running… to finally face this emotion they’ve been dancing around for centuries

Bee almost felt guilty for assuming so negatively of the one bot he has ever loved, but then again Breakdown has never really done much to prove his loyalty besides never actually betraying him.

This was different though. This was their real new start. The desperation in Breakdown’s eyes, like he’d never seen before, was enough to prove it.

And he trusted Breakdown… because now they both had something to lose.

The hard part was convincing Optimus to do the same…

Bee is lucky he was always Prime’s favorite. Pretty sure any other bot could be charged with fraternizing with the enemy. And of course… the news didn’t go over very smoothly… Bee wasn’t expecting it to…

He’s grateful Breakdown survived to the end of the conversation, though there were a handful of blasters involved in the process.

But after the lectures and the disappointment and the numerous encounters of bots trying to convince Bumblebee to abandon whatever bond he had with Breakdown and allow the Autobots to assist in the Sparkling’s upbringing… Bee noticed for the first time just how hard BD was trying.

Breakdown never cared about what anyone thought of him. He never did things for the approval of others… so Bee knew it was his own decision when BD formerly defected from the Decepticons and took on the autobot mantel.

He’d never seen him more dedicated to anything before… and that’s when Bee knew. They were going to be okay.

He had only ever been a soldier before… he wasn’t sure if he was really cut out for this whole Carrier thing. Breakdown joked that the Terrans had been the trial run, and he had all the training he needed.

They both joked to avoid the spark numbing fear.

They had never experienced it before… not like this… the fear of losing.

Bee wasn’t sure when Breakdown became so… domestic. Sure, he still teased and flirted and ran his mouth. He still made bets he couldn’t win. But he also brought Bee his energon every morning, mixed exactly the way he liked it. And everytime Bee fell into recharge, he’d still be by his side when his optics opened again.

Bumblebee couldn’t help but be angry a little…

Why was he only now receiving this treatment? They’d known how they felt about each other for how long? How long had Bee tried to convince him to stay by his side?

But Breakdown didn’t need Bee’s anger to feel guilty. He barely felt deserving of the chances he’d been given long before this one.

And Bumblebee couldn’t bring himself to act on his anger… not when Breakdown was trying so hard for him.

For them.

Perhaps Bee’s dreams of peace weren’t so far off after all.

[kindaasrikal]

The ninja only ever wear their gi unless necessary. Such as a super fancy event (dancing with your husband in a dance lesson), its their work uniform, or for undercover work.

So thats why I like to think they just don’t prefer modern clothing anymore, which then led me to think how they would react to wearing more ‘impractical’ clothing.

Kai wearing heels is something we all think he would be good at, but thats only after MONTHS of practice, and only because it was to better his balance. The second he has them on he’s trying to rip them off because feet are not supposed to bend like that. Bros stumbling, bumbling, and tumbling for weeks trying to figure how the work. And they ain’t normal heels either. They’re those tall thin ones, so maybe possibly he broke his ankle ten times. The problem was how he tried to act like he had it everything under control. As if he doesn’t need help picking up something heavy on the ground, or like he doesn’t need the walking stick Nya lovingly bought him. He did like showing them off though.

In some cultures, dresses can be incredibly heavy with the amount of fabric, jewels, diamonds whatever on them. When Nya has to go undercover at a wedding to protect the guy getting married, she had no idea a dress could weigh so much. That, plus the heels and jewellery, made it sooo much worse. She tripped multiple times, didn’t even attempt trying to use the stairs, and just sat in a chair in a corner near the guy she’s supposed to be protecting trying to resist the urge to itch her back.

Cole isn’t a small guy, but he isn’t super big in some areas either, so buying clothes in general that aren’t his gi is an impossible task unless he’s allowed to go tits out. Give him pants? It’s over the second he bends down. A small shirt? Just go shirtless at this point. A big shirt? Where are his arms. He even has massive feet, so its makes shoe shopping horrible for him because toes shouldn’t squish like what.

Zane…doesn’t like shirts. He’s fine with his gi tops because they’re easy to put on and off, they’re breathable, and they’re stylish. Give him any modern stay shirt that isn’t for some sort of uniform and he’s ripping it off and hissing in a fridge. However, Zane also dislikes purses. Any other bags are fine, but purses are just so annoying to him because either they’re too small or too big and in the way. The small straps also keeps getting into the little gaps on his body and its annoying.

Jay hates long socks and gloves. Long socks are such a pain to handle, he once had to stop a mission five times in the winter to pull them back up because God it doesn’t feel nice having them bunched up like that. He also hates gloves because electricity comes out of his damn hands, it causes this irritating sensation on his hands that gets worse until it almost hurts, so he takes them off and flings them at Lloyd’s face because he likes having free hands thank you.

Lloyd had a completely opposite problem to the ninja at first. He wouldn’t wear anything put his hoodies when he first became a ninja until he had to when he aged up. Ain’t no way did they have the money to buy Lloyd new clothes in the middle of a crisis. Then, later on, he would be very comfortable wearing any clothes as long as it’s considered some sort of uniform. Outside of that though, he hates anything with buttons on them. They’re so annoying to button up and then try unbutton and he has delicate hands okay, he doesn’t wanna mess them up more than they already are. He also has a hate love relationship with zippers because they’re fun to use but he may or may not haven’t accidentally broken the zip every time.

Is this me writing all this because i wore tall heels for the first time today? Yes it is.

[anonymousewrites]

Lavender for Royalty; Sage for Wisdom (Book 1) Chapter Eight

Kyoya Ootori x Reader

Chapter Eight: Rhododendron for Danger

Summary: The Host Club goes to the beach, and (Y/N) and Haruhi have their worst experiences with the club yet.

            “(Y/N), why don’t you come in the water?” said some of the guests as they walked down the beach.

            “Yeah!” said another girl. “Haruhi, you should join us!”

            “Haruhi and I would rather just watch,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “Are you sure?” said a guest.

            Haruhi smiled. “Go on and have fun.”

            “You all look so cute in your swimsuits, we don’t want them to go to waste,” said (Y/N).

            The girls blushed before squealing and running to the water. (Y/N) shook their head in amusement, and Haruhi deadpanned about how easy it was to fluster the guests.

            “We were so tricked into this,” said Hikaru. “I didn’t think we’d have customers here.”

            “We should’ve caught on when Kyoya greenlighted the trip,” said Kaoru.

            “Don’t you know him by now?” said (Y/N), chuckling.

            “Fools of summertime!” said Tamaki, grinning proudly. “This is all according to plan. Why would the general public view my daughter in her bathing suit?”

            “Tamaki, you really do need to stop referring to Haruhi as your daughter,” said (Y/N), leaning back on their arms.

            Tamaki ignored (Y/N) as he sighed dreamily. “In the evening, when everyone else has gone home, I shall walk along the beach with Haruhi, who will wear a fetching white sundress.”

            The twins deadpanned.

            “Summertime fools are one thing,” said Kaoru. “But to be one year round is sad.”

            “So true,” said Hikaru. “Anyway, why are we in Japan instead of the Caribbean?”

            “What is our budget, again?” said (Y/N), frowning.

            “I can assure you we are perfectly within our means,” said Kyoya, barely looking up from his notebook.

            “It must be rich means,” said (Y/N). Who else could get a beach?

            “Are you all having fun?” A spooky voice appeared over Tamaki’s shoulder, and Tamaki screamed. Nekozawa had arrived.

            “We’re at Nekozawa’s private beach,” said the twins, looking at (Y/N) with a shrug.

            “Aha, a discount,” said (Y/N), looking at Kyoya.

            “Precisely,” said Kyoya.

            “Kyoya! We were going to visit your beach!” said Tamaki (he was terrified of Nekozawa).

            “Unfortunately, one of my father’s clients is using it. It was a sudden request, and Haruhi preferred somewhere within the country,” said Kyoya. “She doesn’t have a passport.”

            “Nekogaiwa is a sacred spot for the guardian of the Nekozawa family,” said Nekozawa. He gestured to the strange formation of rocks that looked like a cat (as did everything in his family). “According to legend, anyone who jumps off the rock will never rise again. Nice, huh?”

            Tamaki looked terrified, and the twins just rolled their eyes.

            “There seems to be a courageous challenger,” observed Nekozawa.

            “Haruhi!” shouted Hikaru, Kaoru, and Tamaki.

            “Oh, dear, those are jagged rocks,” said (Y/N), frowning.

            The three men were already running to get her down before she hurt herself, though, so they didn’t have to move.

            “(Y/N), you should come seashell hunting!” said Honey, running up to them excitedly.

            (Y/N) smiled. “Sure, Honey.”

            “But, senpai, it’s not the right season or tide—” whispered Haruhi.

            (Y/N) pointed at the police squad putting out sea urchins, shells, and clams while Honey happily picked them up. “They’re apologizing to him.”

            Haruhi deadpanned. Rich people…

            “Come on, (Y/N)! Come on, Haru!” said Honey.

            (Y/N) and Haruhi smiled and headed over to help Honey.

            “So cute,” said Tamaki, watching the three collect shells with stars in his eyes. “Right, Kyoya?!”

            Kyoya looked up from his notebook to watch (Y/N) pick up a shell and hum pleasantly as they listened to the sound of the ocean within. “Mm.” He hummed noncommittedly.

            “Here, Haruhi,” said Kaoru. “It’s a huge scallop. Do you like scallops?”

            “I like it.” Haruhi smiled. “Thanks, Kaoru.”

            “Haruhi, a turban shell!” said Tamaki, trying to get a cute reaction. “Do you like them?”

            “Look here, a blue mussel! Do you like them?” said Hikaru.

            “Haru, a clam!” said Honey happily.

            “Octopus,” said Mori.

            “Enough already!” shouted Haruhi as she was crowded.

            “Here’s abalone,” said Kyoya, holding a smooth, iridescent shell out to (Y/N).

            “Very pretty,” said (Y/N), smiling. They reached out and glanced at him. “May I?”

            Kyoya dropped it into their palm, and he watched them put it in their bag at their towel. He stood a tiny bit straighter.

            “Look, Haruhi, a giant crab!” Tamaki was still trying to impress Haruhi. “Do you like crabs?”

            “Eee!” The guests screamed as a millipede crawled out of the crab. “Gross! A bug!”

            “Where’d that come from?” said Haruhi, picking up the bug. Calmly, she tossed it back into the bushes.

            “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and say you’re a kind of girl who likes bugs…” said Kaoru.

            “I don’t like them,” said Haruhi.

            “Who was going to help? You two?” said (Y/N).

            “But couldn’t you at least let it go on the grass or something?” said Hikaru.

            “It’s a fine. A fall won’t kill it. And I threw it to the grass,” said Haruhi, shrugging.

            “Haruhi, you’re so manly!” said the girls, hearts floating around them.

            “It’s alright, girls,” said Haruhi to them.

            The twins huffed. They had been looking forward to Tamaki’s antics “protecting” Haruhi. It seemed she wasn’t afraid of anything. A lightbulb went off above their heads, and (Y/N) sighed. That couldn’t be good.

            “Hey, Boss, we thought of a game.” The twins leaned towards him with identical smirks. “It’s called, ‘Who can find Haruhi’s weakness?’ ”

            “An evil-minded game!” said Tamaki.

            “You two need to work on boundaries,” sighed (Y/N).

            “I’m sorry. Do you two not have the confidence to play? You’d have to be pretty close to her to find out her weakness, huh?” said Hikaru and Kaoru, easily goading the pair.

            “Still no,” said (Y/N).

            “The rules?” Tamaki fell for the trap.

            “The deadline is tomorrow at sunset,” said the twins with smirks. “Whoever finds her weakness first wins.”

            “And? What’s in it for the winner?” said Tamaki.

            “Assorted photos of Haruhi’s middle school days,” said Kyoya, holding up a packet.

            Kaoru, Hikaru, and Tamaki were extremely invested and ran off to make plans. Honey saw them and excitedly chased after them, Mori not far behind.

            (Y/N) leaned on the back of Kyoya’s beach chair and raised a brow. “How do you have those? No, more importantly, why do you have those?”

            “It’s quite easy to get them to leave me alone with some incentive,” said Kyoya with his closed-eye smile, very signature Kyoya but oh-so evil at the same time.

            “Poor Haruhi, getting pulled into your plans,” said (Y/N), shaking their head.

            “Would you rather I used your middle school pictures?” said Kyoya.

            “I doubt Tamaki would get excited over those,” said (Y/N). Thankfully. No one needed to see any middle-school phases of theirs. (Hey, experimentation in fashion is valid. It’s also embarrassing). They paused. “Do you really have those?”

            Kyoya smirked. “Do you want to find out?”

            “Nope,” said (Y/N) easily, smiling. “I’d rather not.”

            “Pity. I’m waiting for a chance to use them,” said Kyoya.

            “I can’t tell if you’re teasing me or not,” said (Y/N), looking down at him.

            “Do I tease?” said Kyoya, raising a brow.

            “Absolutely,” said (Y/N), grinning.

            “Then perhaps I am,” said Kyoya with a light smirk.

            (Y/N) chuckled.

            “(Y/N)!” said a guest, smiling. “Will you come with us up onto the cliffs?”

            “We wanted a view of the sunset,” said a second girl. “It will be so romantic!”

            “Of course I’ll come,” said (Y/N). “I’m sure it will be beautiful. And I can take some photos for you all if you’d like.” Plenty of the guests were active on social media and would love the opportunity.

            “You’re so sweet!” squealed the two.

            “Bye, Kyoya,” said (Y/N), turning away to walk up the rocks with the girls. It wasn’t a tough hike, luckily, just a few minutes’ walk, but (Y/N) was a gentleman, so they helped the guests up the rocks all the same.

            “Thank you, (Y/N),” chorused the pair, blushing as (Y/N) held their hand to guide them.

            “Wow, it’s so beautiful,” said one of the guests, sighing as she looked out at the sunset.

            “Imagine having a date here,” said the other girl.

            “With Nekozawa? I’d be scared…”

            “He’s letting us use his beach. It’s very nice of him,” reminded (Y/N). “Who knows? Maybe he’s a gentleman with a penchant for magic.” They winked playfully, and the girls squealed. “Now, who wants pictures?”

            “Are you sure we look good?” said a girl nervously.

            “You’re always beautiful,” said (Y/N), smiling and taking one of the guest’s phone to take photo of the group together. They smiled shyly, and (Y/N) snapped the pictures from several angles while the girls blushed. “There.” They handed the phone back

            “Thank you!” said the girls.

            “Hey, look what we found.”

            (Y/N) bristled and turned, eyes narrowed. Three boys were walking up the rocks—trespassers on the beach. The two guests’ eyes widened, and (Y/N) moved in front of them.

            “Wow, it’s a party,” said one boy, grinning widely.

            “With only pretty girls, too,” said the second. “You must be bored.”

            The third leered. “Well, not all girls. But still pretty.”

            “Leave,” said (Y/N), standing in front of the girls. “This is a private beach.” The way the boys were looking at them and the girls sent a disgusted shiver down their spine, but (Y/N) had to remain firm and strong in front of the boys.

            “Ooh, rich kids, huh?” One of the boys stepped forward and tried to grab a girl’s wrist. She stepped back, and (Y/N) stepped towards him to get him to back off.

            “Oh, come on, we can have some fun,” simpered the second, reaching for (Y/N).

            “Not a chance,” said (Y/N), slapping his arm away.

            “You little—Ow!” He jumped back with his friends as spiky urchins hit his shirt.

            Haruhi stood, stone-faced, behind them with an empty bucket of shells and urchins. “Leave them alone, please. They don’t want to spend time with you. You’re a nuisance.”

            “You brat,” said one of the boys, reaching for her.

            Instantly, (Y/N) grabbed his arm and twisted, putting it into a lock. He squawked angrily as (Y/N) pulled his wrist back and braced his elbow, pushing one and pushing the other uncomfortably.

            “Go and get the other hosts,” said (Y/N) as the girls’ eyes widened. Instantly, they nodded and ran, and Haruhi moved to help (Y/N), but another boy grabbed her. “Hey!” (Y/N) threw the boy they were holding down and moved to help Haruhi as she struggled.

            The third boy grabbed (Y/N), and they twisted, slamming their heel into the top of his foot. He let out an angry yell, and his grip on their arms tightened as his friend got up and slapped their face.

            “(Y/N)!” said Haruhi, eyes wide.

l

            “Tamaki!” The two girls ran back to the towels with wide eyes. “Haruhi and (Y/N) are in trouble!”

            Tamaki’s eyes widened, and he, Kaoru, and Hikaru jumped up. Honey’s sunny smile turned sour, and Mori’s eyes narrowed. Kyoya’s grip on his notebook tightened, and he threw it down as he followed the rest of the hosts up the cliffs.

l

            “You rich kids, thinking you can push us around,” sneered the boy, glaring at (Y/N) again. “Where do you get off ordering us around?”

            “Where do you get off thinking you can treat women like that?” shot back (Y/N).

            “Why, you—We’ll teach you a lesson!” The boy grabbed them roughly and wrenched them from the other’s grasp.

            “Wait!” Haruhi’s eyes widened, and she pulled against the third boy.

            The boy pushed (Y/N) from the cliff, and their eyes widened. The wind rushed past them, and they hit the water with a splash. Their mouth opened in shock, and water flood them. They coughed and floundered, sinking farther as the shock of hitting the waves settled in. Their vision blurred as seawater stung it. The last thing they saw was a figuring with dark hair diving in after them.

l

            Kyoya had reached the top of the cliffs a moment too late. He saw (Y/N) falling from the rocks, watched their eyes widen in fear, and immediately ran forward. He was tempted to hit the boy who had pushed (Y/N)—when had he become tempted to violence for another person—but his concern was for them.

            Kyoya threw his glasses to Tamaki and dove over the rocks. He landed in the water with much more elegance than (Y/N) and swam downward to them. His hand closed around his wrist, and he pulled them to him. Thankfully, their eyes fluttered as they broke the surface, and they coughed up the water they’d swallowed. With powerful strokes, Kyoya supported (Y/N) and swam them to the shore. As the water got shallow enough, he tucked a hand under their knees and picked them up bridal-style.

            (Y/N) coughed up seawater, and they groaned as their head lolled and leaned against Kyoya’s chest.

            “(Y/N)!”

            “Oh my god! Kyoya, (Y/N)!”

            (Y/N)’s eyes blinked as they heard Haruhi calling for them and the sound of the guest’s concern. Their eyes opened fully, and they looked up at Kyoya’s face. Their heart stuttered. He had come to save them? Kyoya had cared?

            Oh. Oh. Oh, no. They liked that. They liked…him. Oh, no.

            “(Y/N), are you alright?” said Haruhi, looking at (Y/N) in Kyoya’s arms.

            Their panicking thoughts were broken by Haruhi’s words, and they looked at her. “Oh. Yes. I am.”

            Haruhi breathed out a sigh of relief as Kyoya put (Y/N) down but kept an arm around their middle to steady them. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t more help, senpai.”

            “You were plenty of help,” said (Y/N). “It was three versus two.”

            “Hikaru, Kaoru, arrange for the guests to go back to the hotel,” said Kyoya, his hand remaining firmly around (Y/N). “Tamaki—”

            “We got their IDs. Nekozawa got the police and is taking care of them,” said Tamaki, nodding.

            “Good.” Kyoya’s grip relaxed slightly. “Honey, have Nekozawa call a doctor—”

            “I’m fine,” said (Y/N), reaching up and touching his shoulder gently.

            “You’re fine?” Tamaki’s eyes narrowed as he looked at (Y/N) and Haruhi. “Are you a martial artist? Do you have diving experience?”

            “I know some self-defense. And I was startled,” said (Y/N) firmly.

            “No, you were unprepared to fight three men,” said Tamaki.

            “They did a great job. They helped the guests get away!” said Haruhi.

            “You don’t get to talk, either,” said Tamaki, whirling on her. “You didn’t call us, even though we were right there! You and (Y/N) don’t have the strength to fight them!”

            “There’s no time to think when we’re on the spot,” said Haruhi.

            “Well, think a little, idiot!” said Tamaki.

            Haruhi’s eyes widened, and she glared. “We’re sorry for troubling you guys, but I don’t see why we should be scolded for anything! (Y/N) and I did nothing wrong!”

            “Is that so?” said Tamaki angrily. “Fine! Do whatever you want! I won’t speak to you until you admit your mistake!” However, it only took a few paces away until he looked back at Haruhi.

            Everyone looked at Haruhi.

            “I don’t want to talk to him,” she said. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”

            (Y/N) nodded. “We didn’t.” They turned away from Tamaki and looked at Mori and Honey. “Hand me a towel. I’m heading back to the house.” Tamaki and his opinions of their strength could go to hell for all they cared.

            Kyoya’s eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly as (Y/N) walked towards the mansion. They didn’t care for their safety at all.

Taglist:

@roo024

@jmclouds

@yappydoo

@ramblingsoftheill

@girgal73

@rockerica

@nosoyyo1213

@ritzes28

@grippledee-galaxy

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@introvertathome

[clarkeyhill]

Consequences | Arthur Hill

Arthur and I had been together for a year. We had that kind of relationship that felt easy—built on laughter, trust, and shared traditions. One of Arthur’s quirks was his love for “splitting the G,” a Guinness drinking game where you try to drink the pint down to the middle of the golden “G” in the Guinness logo. It was silly, but it was his thing, and I adored him for it.

When he told me he was going on a boys’ holiday with George and Chris, I didn’t think twice. He updated me every day like clockwork—photos of beaches, beers, and their latest adventures. It felt like he was keeping me close, even from miles away.

Until the last night.

That night, the updates stopped. I told myself it was fine—maybe they’d just gotten carried away with their final hurrah. But then I saw the Instagram post.

A girl I didn’t know had tagged him in a photo. The two of them were standing close, her arm slung over his shoulder, grinning at the camera. The caption read:

“Met this guy and he taught me how he splits the G, many ways than one.”

The words hit me like a slap. I knew what “splitting the G” meant to Arthur, but what was the “other G” she was talking about? My stomach churned as I scrolled through the comments. People were laughing, teasing her, and dropping winking emojis. Arthur hadn’t liked or commented on the photo, but that did nothing to stop the flood of doubt and betrayal coursing through me.

I waited for him to text, to call, to explain. But there was only silence.

Arthur returned home two days later, dragging his suitcase into the hallway with a weariness I hadn’t seen before.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low.

“Hi.” I tried to sound normal, but my heart was already racing.

He was distant, avoiding my gaze, and his usual warmth felt replaced by something colder. I asked him about the trip, but his answers were short and guarded.

“It was fine.”

“Yeah, we had fun.”

“Nothing crazy happened.”

It didn’t feel right. He was hiding something, and I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Arthur,” I said finally, “I saw the photo.”

His entire body stiffened. “What photo?”

“You know what photo. The one with that girl. She said you taught her how to ‘split the G, many ways than one.’ What does that mean?”

For a moment, he just stared at me, his face pale. Then he sank onto the edge of the couch, running his hands through his hair.

“I messed up,” he said quietly.

“What do you mean?” My voice cracked.

“I was drunk,” he began, his words spilling out in a rush. “We were playing drinking games at the bar, and she joined in. We were laughing, talking, and then… she kissed me. I didn’t stop her. I should have, but I didn’t. It didn’t go further than that, I swear, but I know I messed up.”

My heart sank. The image of them together, the way he looked at her in that photo, it all felt like a dagger to my chest.

“She kissed you? Just like that?” I demanded, my voice rising.

“I was drunk, and I let it happen,” he admitted. “But it didn’t mean anything. It was a mistake. Please, believe me.”

I stared at him, my mind racing. The man I trusted, the man I loved, had let this happen. How could I ever look at him the same way again?

I slept in the spare bedroom that night. I couldn't bear to sleep or even look at Arthur.

The next morning, I packed my things. Arthur hovered around me, desperate and pleading, but I couldn’t stay.

“I love you,” he said, his voice breaking. “Please don’t go. It was one mistake.”

“One mistake is all it takes,” I said, tears streaming down my face.

And then I walked out.

For weeks, Arthur tried everything to win me back. He sent flowers, texts, and letters filled with apologies.

“I know I hurt you,” one message read. “But please don’t let this destroy us. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Another said, “I’m not giving up on us. You mean too much to me.”

Each gift, each message, felt like salt in the wound. I didn’t respond. I needed space, time to figure out what I wanted.

Then, one day, a small package arrived. Inside was a single notebook. On the first page, Arthur had written:

“Our Story: The Reasons I Fell in Love With You.”

Every page was filled with memories. The way we met, the time I surprised him with his favorite concert tickets, the night we stayed up talking until sunrise. He’d written about the way I laugh, the way I scrunch my nose when I’m annoyed, and how I always leave notes in his lunchbox.

At the end, he wrote:

“I know I broke your trust, and I might not deserve another chance. But I want to spend the rest of my life making this up to you, proving that I’m the man you fell in love with. Please, let me try."

I closed the notebook, my hands trembling.

For the first time in weeks, I let myself imagine a future where we could work through this. Where we could rebuild.

I wasn’t sure if I was ready to forgive him. But for the first time, I thought… maybe I could try.

-

🫶🏻

[sflow-er]

For YR Faves Fest organised by @youngroyals-events Prompts: 2. favourite teen side character (Henry), 7. favourite (not-quite) friendship, 9. favourite season (S1)

To accompany my Henry & Simon analysis post, I thought it could be fun to post a selection of scenes from my S1 longfic Other people's secrets as Sunday snippets!

These three scenes consist of 1) Henry observing Wilmon on the night of the Society party, 2) him trying to small talk with them the next day, and 3) him apologising to Simon after rowing practice some days later. They should be easy to follow and enjoy even if you haven't read the entire fic.

The first scene is under the cut, and I will reblog this twice (later today) to add the others!

1: The night of the Society party

When a cold breeze touched Henry’s ankle, he realised he had failed to close the window after climbing in. As if on cue, there was a noise from outside – it sounded like someone falling down, followed by muffled voices arguing.

“Fuck, not again. Get up, Wille!”

“Sorry, sorry! Just need to catch my breath.”

“On your feet now, come on!”

“It’s nice here, sit with me for a bit.” Sounds of a scuffle again. “I want to sit with you, come on!”

“No, you’re going to get up and point me in the right direction. Unless you want me to just leave you here.”

“No, don’t leave me! Everything’s spinning and I just, uh. I need a minute to – ungh…”

As more struggling followed, Henry gradually unfroze to look over at his roommate, who seemed to be fast asleep still. He wondered if he should wake Walter up for this but decided not to waste time. This sounded like a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it type of situation. He curiously approached the window and peered out through the corner pane, hiding behind the curtain to avoid being seen from the outside.

It was dark, but Henry could make out two figures on the lawn. One was pulling the other to his feet, but the one reluctantly getting up – Wilhelm, obviously it had to be Wilhelm – threw his arms tightly around whoever was helping him and slumped against them.

“Damn it, Wille, get a hold of yourself! We’re almost there.”

“Don’t be mad,” Wilhelm slurred, still hanging on for dear life, even though the object of the hug tried to pry him off. He sounded desolate saying, “Don’t leave me, Simon, please don’t leave me.”

Henry’s eyes widened as he mouthed the name: Simon? His thoughts were a whirlwind in his still slightly inebriated brain. Why was Simon bringing Wilhelm home from a party he had not even attended, and more importantly, were they really this close?

This was best-friend territory. Not something any two classmates would do for each other. Henry for one couldn’t imagine other than Walter dragging him home like that. Simon didn’t even live here, so he was really going out of his way to do this.

Henry squinted his eyes to see better as Simon let out a stifled grunt and heaved his clingy friend off. It was too dark to see their faces, but luckily there was enough moonlight to catch their silhouette.

“Of course not, I just said that to get you moving again.” Simon held Wilhelm by the elbow as the prince almost lost his balance from the push. His other hand was gesturing towards the windows. “Now, focus: which one is your room? How do we get in?”

“That one over there. I left it open. I’m clever like that.”

“Just not clever enough to say no to whatever junk they put in front of you,” Simon muttered, lifting Wilhelm’s arm on his shoulders and starting in the indicated direction.

Wilhelm groaned and signalled his reluctance to move. He grabbed a handful of Simon’s jacket and whatever he was wearing under it, most likely a hoodie knowing how Simon dressed. Then, he actually nuzzled his face into the crook of Simon’s neck.

Simon, who was quite clearly at the end of his wit, tried to push him off again.

“I don’t need this from you, okay? I know you’re hurting, but this is not the way to fix that. I can’t be dragging your ass home high in the middle of the night, it’s not fair. Okay?”

“Please don’t be mad,” Wilhelm whined again. “I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“We can talk about this when you’ve sobered up,” Simon said, obviously mad.

Henry was holding his breath, transfixed. This was a much more private conversation than he had expected. He tried to get a better look, but all he could see was Wilhelm’s frame slumped against Simon while the shorter boy insistently dragged him along.

“Will you stay until then? Please stay.”

“Well, somebody has to make sure you don’t choke to death in your sleep.”

Henry stifled a giggle at the similarity with the sentiment Walter had expressed earlier about him potentially dying in the woods. Yes, definitely best-friend territory, although he couldn’t really imagine himself being quite that physical, even with Walter. Hugging, sure, but the nuzzling was a bit much. But then, Wilhelm was obviously high out of his mind, so it was no wonder he was acting strangely.

“Thank you, Simon. Thanks for coming. I can’t believe you came.”

“Of course I came.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Wilhelm sounded sincere, his voice small and broken.

“You have a funny way of showing it,” Simon replied a bit more bitterly than Henry expected.

“I didn’t really want what I wanted.” It was getting harder to hear Wilhelm’s slurred words now as they were getting further away. Henry silently pushed the window slightly further ajar to catch the rest. He couldn’t risk looking out anymore for fear of being spotted, but at least he could hear better. “I’m sorry.”

“I know. Now, is this your window?” Wilhelm did not say anything in response, but he must have made a gesture to that effect, because the next thing Henry heard was the window creaking open. “Get in, and don’t make any noise unless you want your bodyguards to rush in.”

“Quiet as a mouse,” Wilhelm proclaimed at a volume that was anything but. He proceeded to knock something over on his way in, then cursed as that something clanked against the floor. His bodyguards must have heard, but they probably had enough tact to avoid catching the crown prince in the act.

Simon laughed quietly despite himself, and Henry could imagine him shaking his head in exasperation. Wilhelm muttered an ’oops’ and shushed himself, still extremely loud in the absence of any other noise.

When Simon spoke again, his voice sounded less angry. Instead, it was laced with affection. “Real smooth. Now get out of the way.”

Henry heard Simon climb in and close the window. It was quiet again, and he turned back towards his sleeping roommate in disbelief. He really should have woken Walter up for this, because he had no idea what to make of it on his own.

“Well, I guess that’s what happened to Wille,” he whispered to himself. Rubbing his wrist on his cheek, he realised he had blushed vigorously at the awkward excitement of watching and eavesdropping on something he so clearly wasn’t supposed to witness.

He shook his head to snap out of it, then he shut the window and curtains. He lay down to contemplate the discussion he had just witnessed, hands behind his pillow.

Obviously, Simon and Wilhelm had to be very close friends based on everything they had just said and the touchy-feely nature of it all. But if that was the case, why were they hiding?

[---]

He lay awake for about an hour, listening to Walter’s steady breathing from the other bed and feeling low as conflicting thoughts swirled around his slowly sharpening mind. Witnessing that interaction had made it abundantly clear how different Wilhelm was with a true friend than he was with Henry and the others – and if Simon had been able to get through Wilhelm’s seemingly impenetrable walls, there had to be something special about him.

The more Henry thought about how wrong his approach to them both had been, the larger and heavier the ball of guilt inside him grew, until he had to clear his throat in an effort to move it. Thankfully – or unfortunately, he wasn’t sure which – Walter didn’t seem to stir.

And so, he whispered quietly into the dark, “Maybe we should try to be nicer to Simon.”

[loving-jack-kelly]

something something jack and davey both thinking they were acts of service love language types because they were both so deeply insecure in themselves that they needed to feel useful to feel loved. and something something both of them finding for the first time with each other that they don't need to provide utility to be loved. and something something this spilling out into the rest of their lives as they make each other better and push each other to grow.

[lazylittledragon]

what do you mean youre technically a detransitioner cause of terf bullshit?

it's a v long story but i detransitioned for a couple of years when i was 16/17, for multiple reasons but mostly because i fell into the blaire white/kalvin garrah chamber of "you have to be This way to be trans otherwise you're not real".

i was already Deeply insecure about myself and my 'passing' and i was led to believe that i couldn't want to wear makeup or skirts, and i couldn't choose not to have bottom surgery, and i couldn't do anything but bind for 12+ hours a day to the point that my ribcage is still misshapen. basically i thought that if i wasn't suffering enough doing 'feminine' things, i couldn't really be trans, so i should just go back to being a girl and suck it up.

the terf bullshit is because i'd seen a lot of terfs/detransitioners talking about the 'dangers' of testosterone and how it would turn me into a horrible ugly evil monster and how there was nothing worse than wanting to be a man. which combined with 'you need to fully medically transition to be valid at all' creates some very dangerous and upsetting feelings to cope with.

it also came from trying really hard to put myself in a little box before i realised that my sexuality/gender are very fluid and it's FINE for me not to have a label and just do whatever i want. when i was 19 or so i went back to using they/them (and eventually he/him) and changed my name again because even though i like doing 'feminine' things, i don't want to be seen as a woman.

tldr: i was conditioned by transphobic/terf rhetorics to think that i was being trans the 'wrong' way so i couldn't be trans at all, so i believed i must actually be a girl if i still wanted to do 'feminine' things. nowadays i am a transmasc who does feminine things because i don't give two shits about what any transmed prick thinks of me anymore.

[bonefall]

Hey, what makes a character a 'plot device but not a character'? And how do you not do that? I'm trying to do it on purpose but also I need to still make them interesting because it's on purpose, yknow?

A good skill to pick up is to learn to criticise criticism itself. A "plot device" is simply a thing that moves the plot along, it's a neutral literary analysis term! Usually, when people are angry that "a character has been used as a plot device," it doesn't mean they hate plot devices. It means they're gesturing at something deeper.

Runningwind and Bumble are equally plot devices in their deaths. They are both killed by the antagonist to escalate political tension. Runningwind is rarely "accused" of just being a plot device, and yet, we're talking about Bumble for the same thing.

So, why?

Well, Runningwind is just a background character, but in life, he was a part of the community. He was characterized as impatient but responsible. Yet, he wasn't SO important that he died with a bunch of unresolved plot threads.

He is mostly an extension of the entity of ThunderClan. His killing by Tigerstar, and the fear and paranoia that settles on the group after this, feel like a progression of the story insteas of something forced.

Bumble, on the other hand...

Is hated immediately by Gray Wing, when she's established as Turtle Tail's friend. Bumble's abuse at Tom the Wifebeater's hands invites even MORE investment. The rejection is shocking and upsetting. There's a story there about our main characters being imperfect; jealous, bigoted, and judgemental.

But, she is simply killed off. Everything they set up for this character is gone with little personalized fanfare. It's not a tragedy with a lesson about cruelty, or something anyone regrets.

It's just... plot. Gray Wing whinging that no one will like his shitty brother now that his body count is 2.

More than that, in the discussion of women in particular, "Fridging" was coined to give a name to the way women characters often don't get their stories told at all. There is a CULTURAL trend of female characters facing disproportionate violence, for the sake of advancing male plots.

Bumble has a lot going for her. Petal had a lot going for her. Turtle Tail had a lot going for her. Bright Stream had a lot going for her. When they died, they took their potential with them.

It's not always wrong to kill off a character of high potential, mind you. In Gurren Lagann, Kamina's death is sudden and shocking, leaving a massive hole in the hearts of the cast that never heals. Grappling with that loss, but also letting his memory fuel them, is a major theme of that story.

All that to say... there's no formula for avoiding it. You've gotta identify what the deeper issue is, in your specific narrative.

I can't say for certain what that will look like for your story, but here's some things I keep in mind;

When you make characters who exist to die, make sure they're people before you axe them.

Ask yourself; what about them does the cast miss?

If they just miss them because they were (pre-existing relationship), go back to the drawing board.

Fluttering Bird as an example. Who was she? Dead sister. Why do they miss her? Dead sister. No traits until after her death.

Runningwind was short-tempered and helpful. Kamina was a valuable leader who made people believe in a brighter future. Swiftpaw was fiesty and desperate to prove himself. The better characterized, the more profound the loss usually is.

If this is a female character who is dying just to serve the plot, be aware of cultural bias and tropes. How is the gender ratio looking in your cast? Is this happening disproportionately with your girls?

Note how Quiet Rain's litter had both a boy and a girl, but the girl was chosen to be "weaker" and wither away.

And how most of the time in DOTC, whenever a man had to be upset, a girl would get killed for it.

If you ever feel like the character on the chopping block is NOT a full character, ask yourself why it needs to be a character at all. You don't need to spend narrative time building out someone when a literal object of high value might suffice.

"My sister died when I swore to protect her and I can't face my family" = Old. Tired. Ive seen this.

"I lost my heirloom sword when I swore to protect it and I can't face my family." = Fascinating. Why was the sword so valuable? Will they really not take you back? How did you lose it?

When you do kill off "high value" characters, try to make sure you're not leaving too many plot threads hanging. Or at least make a point of how they will never get closure.